Spectacular Reinforcement

Performance in architecture frequently involves the use of spectacle as a means of drawing attention to itself. Similar to the attraction of nocturnal insects to sources of light, the use of spectacles produces a rhythmic, predictable cycle that integrates the landmark or site into the routine and conscious of the end-user. This imparts a social use and significance to the cultural landmark, which under ordinary circumstances, would likely function strictly as a touristic object.

The Wild Goose Pagoda in XiAn offers a comprehensive example of such performances. The pagoda experiences, during low season, sparce attendance at best. However, at night, the great park that lies just north of it erupts in an elaborate fountain show that involves the use of 1124 frequency converters, 3300 colored lamps, and 2000 nozzles in total. It is during this daily event that the pagoda experiences its greatest volume of visitors, most of which are local residents, which establishes this fountain show as not just an isolated spectacle for tourists, but also a regular feature in the lives of the denizens of XiAn, and an essential diurnal episode in the life of the city. It keeps the pagoda constanly in the vision of the city and its inhabitants, aiding to prevent the Tang Dynasty monument from ostracization.

Urban Duplicity in Touristic Shopping

Having now visited two of the major capitals of East Asia, Beijing and Tokyo, some similarities have arisen in preservation strategies between these two distinct metropolises, even if the motivations and processes resulting in such projects differ enormously. For example, having visited QianMen DaJie in Beijing a few weeks ago, we encountered an almost comical instance of preservation that seemed only concerned with the cosmetics of an old-style Beijing architecture that the local government seemed to desire to redevelop. In attempting to reconcile the demands of both local residents, who stressed the maintenance of the original architectural style of the once-prominent bustling commercial street, and the government, who wished to find a more pertinent use for the deteriorating commercial thoroughfare, a peculiar compromise was struck: the local government would affect total reconstruction, first razing the existing structures, then rebuilding them. The result was a cosmetic reconstruction of the old QianMen Street that housed none of the original inhabitants nor sold any of the original wares or services. A concrete-shell structure faced with tile-like veneer replaced what was once made entirely of masonry, mortar, and wood. This new development, whose occupancy costs were astronomical, deterred inhabitation by all but the most wealthy retailers and services, attracting a smattering of western companies, including Starbucks and Hagen Dazs, and a number of high-end Chinese retailers and restaurateurs, including a number of gourmet tea shops and a rather large Peking Duck restaurant. Tourists now constitute the majority of visitors to this redevelopment, and supply a significant amount of its income.

Similarly, the commercial construction just outside of the Asakusa Shrine Temple in Tokyo arose also as a response to touristic stimuli. Due both to a desire to profit from increased tourist volume and to further increase the volume itself, a string of street-vendor-like stands were set up along the way leading up to the Shrine's gate. Featuring none of the expected casual architecture of typical street vendor stands, these stands are organized almost exactly in a line, are styled and internally organized in approximately the same way, and sell more or less the same products, most of which are trinkets, souvenirs, or other bric-a-brac meant to lure the attention of passing tourists, many of whom are foreigners. Similarly to QianMen Street, the evident construction methods used to produce these stands do not match those of original traditional practice. A blatant use of steel beams and columns attest to what appears, ironically, permanent, which contradicts the transient nature of street stand architecture.

Of particular interest is the back alleys that each have produced. Both QianMen Street and the souvenir vendors outside of Asakusa Shrine host a hidden urban condition behind the pristine veneer of touristic shopping delights. A wide array of lively signs, more humble consumer services and products, and typical urban architectural forms line these back alleys, revealing a distinct, other world that, arguably, more resembles the current state of urbanity in these cities than the more deliberate and largely cosmetic commercial novelties that face the major ways.