Hutongs and Farewells

This month has become a season of farewells, and it’s bittersweet. The thrill and wonderment of life overseas is partly derived from the bountiful mix of people one discovers and meets along the way. And yet, since “change” is really the only certainty in life, I’ve decided the only rational defense to the sad twinges I’m experiencing is to embrace the wonderful things I’ve learned from and shared with these people instead of bemoaning their departures. My paraphrase: “It is better to have known than never to have known at all.”


Farewells have loomed large in my mind lately, and not just because of friends’ leave-taking. Last week I roamed the hutongs south of Qianmen (south of Tiananmen Square), areas I happened upon first in March of 2006 when development for a new/old Qianmen multi-purpose pedestrian area (to rival that of Wangfujing, supposedly) was underway. What I came across then seemed to be the aftermath of a war-zone; in a 360* revolution one could only see collapsed roofs, crumbling walls, broken glass and rubble and the occasional stray cat or itinerant dweller huddled over a small fire for warmth.

(before, March 2006)

(after, December 2008)

Two documentarians Olivier Meys, a Belgian, and Zhang Yaxuan, a Chinese, spent more than one and a half years silently filming this 500+ year-old neighborhood as it slowly was razed. Their film “Qian Men Qian”, or “Dans les decombres/A disappearance foretold” was the winner of the SCAM International Award at the Cinema du Reel Festival in 2008, and while it cannot be shown in regular theatres here in China (due to censorship), it has shown at independent theatres and private showings. In the film Meys and Zhang quietly capture the natural rhythm of the traditional alley lifestyle as development slowly encroaches and changes the hutong completely. There are many poignant scenes, including a grandfather and his tearful granddaughter standing in their demolished courtyard, and a family barricading themselves in their partially demolished home and encouraging their young student son to sit closer to the simple fire so as to complete his homework. In one scene, a retiree bikes back to his old lane to visit former neighbors. They ask him how the new apartment is and he responds, “Okay. It’s comfortable, but lonely! There’s no one to sit around and talk to.” (Zhang Yaxuan is now Director of Iberia Independent Film Archive at the Iberia Center for Contemporary Art in the 798 Art District.)

During my return last week I attempted to locate the original site where I had photographed scenes of demolition. On one new, wide avenue (built for cars since the old street south of Qianmen had become a closed pedestrian shopping place) I found a new wall fronting two doorways I had photographed 2 ½ years ago. Yet only two lanes west, the telltale “Chai” or “teardown” symbol was painted throughout the alleys, indicating more destruction and reconstruction ahead. It was a freezing cold day; we encountered no one but stray cats and frozen streetcleaners in the neighborhood.

("Chai," or the symbol for teardown, lines a hutong south of Qianmen)

Many decry the demolition of these old neighborhoods, and yes, my preservationist heart doesn’t want them destroyed either, but throughout history, including in my own old textile mill area of northeastern Massachusetts, cities have undergone demolition and change in the pursuit of “progress”. Is not having running water or toilets really that great, as most homes in the hutongs experienced? Are leaky and drafty windows really so wonderful and charming?
A group of international architects and engineers lived in Beijing for three years studying, taking surveys and analyzing structures before making a proposal for conserving and rehabilitating two of Beijing’s hutong quarters. Beijing Hutong Conservation Study (by Andre Alexander, Hirako Yutaka, Pmpim de Azevedo and Lundrup Dorje) was published in 2004 and shows in detail how traditional siheyuan or courtyard residences became sub-divided, multi-family residences following the social reforms in the 1950s and the Cultural Revolution, and even later to accommodate thousands of homeless following the Tang Shan earthquake. The detailed plans show their proposed rehabilitation of two courtyard homes, reducing the number of families living there (in one case, from 12 families to a proposed 6 families) so as to keep the original living space layout without the need for extension buildings. The group takes into consideration as to whether the courtyards still have original, historic buildings or not in their rehabilitation proposals.



Sadly, economic development has driven the demise of the hutongs as developers build high-rises and office towers. Perhaps the current economic crisis will slow this process down, giving time for new proposals and for conservation to succeed. In the meantime, we say goodbye to old times and live with change.

(new pedestrian development of restaurants

and shops, south of Qianmen)