Shall traditional courtyards survive and prosper?

掌柜

BEIJING – The record snowfall in early January not only crippled the capital’s transportation network, but also evoked reminiscences for old residents, vestiges of the past.

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In a diplomatic compound near Jian Guo Men, a new-born snowman was standing on the side of the road, carrot as nose and a slice of coal as mouth. Besides it, cleaners were busy sweeping the snow-blanketed street.

“In the old days before Beijing began massive construction, we had traditional courtyards everywhere, ” a cleaner surnamed Mao said. “It was easier then for snow to melt because the ground was earth rather than concrete.”

Traditional courtyards, also known as Siheyuan, witnessed the emergence of Beijing as the capital of the Liao and Jin Dynasties (690-1234 AD), and amazed the Italian traveler Marco Polo, at a time when the sprawling Mongol Empire was at the height of its prosperity.

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Obviously they have been a symbol of atavistic hierarchy since the day they were built. Only bureaucrats and aristocrats were privileged to hold their residency inside those quadrangles and receive their living subsidies from the royal court. The scale and design of each courtyard was supposed to follow certain rules: officials with lower ranks were prohibited from building larger courtyards than their superiors even when they had more money in their pockets.

Then came the founding of the new China, the brandished ideology of communism and common wealth, and the ensuing elimination of feudal residues. In 1958, all the courtyards owners submitted their housing property rights to local authorities, some voluntarily while others reluctantly, and courtyard houses became publicly owned to keep in line with the Socialist Reform.

Like the cycle of human life, courtyards have their own cycle of growth, thriving and declining. During the controversial Cultural Revolution (1967-1977), the spate of farmers and workers flooding into the capital brought courtyard housing to its most embarrassing moment, when four to ten families might be squeezed into one courtyard. Thousands more built unregistered annexes everywhere and courtyards became scruffy and tatty.

Wang Gang preferred to call this kind of shabby houses "Dazayuan" (messy houses) instead of Siheyuan. He recalled from his relatives' living experience how Dazayuan came into being.

"Some original Siheyuan owners became bankrupt so they sold some rooms to outsiders. Some were urged to give up some of the rooms to the government so the government could offer them to the new migrants (army cadres and so on) and the homeless. Those inhabitants had only one or two rooms each family, so they tried to expand their territory by construct their own buildings, usually small kitchens to begin with, in the Siheyuan. So the Siheyuan lost it's original layout and became messy," said Wang.

According to Wang, many Siheyuan in Beijing were reduced to Dazayuan, which were difficult to live in because there were no drainage inside, and several families shared one water tap.

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Zhang Wei, a spokesman with Old Beijng, a local non-profit organization keen on heritage conservation, said over 80% of traditional courtyards have disappeared since the 1950s, many of them demolished by the government.

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Beijing municipal government, amidst mounting public outcry, published a protection list of 25 historic and cultural areas in 2002. This was followed by the PRC Cultural Protection Law which took effect in October 2004, also Beijing Administrative Punishment Procedures (Provisional) that commenced implementation in January 2005.

The government measures were far from effective and convincing as the murky provisions entailed left great loopholes for further demolition. No. 23 courtyard in Chaiyuan Hutong, which was inscribed in 2002’s list, was demolished in 2003. No. 13 courtyard in Xiagongfu St which was under municipal government protection was struck by the same nightmare in 2006.

He Shuzhong, founder of Bejing Cultural Heritage Protection Center, said traditional courtyards are still being demolished, though at a lower pace.

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“We see illegal demolitions underway because many officials are hasty about new town development and GDP is deemed as their top priority, ” He said. “There is also alleged corruption among government officials and real estate developers. ”

The limited capacity of the old town compounded the civil society’s protection efforts. According to a recent survey published on Jan. 12, 2010, in East District alone, over 60k cars spent nights in narrow alleys without appropriate parking lots.

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Beijing Municipal Commission for Urban Planning posted its imperial city protection plan as early as 2003. Under article 8.0.4, it has the authority to remove residents who occupy culture heritage but have no ability to undertake appropriate renovation.

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After bulldozers left, a new generation of courtyards sprouted out. These courtyards no more belong to frugal city builders, but have been restored to their former status as the luxurious estates of the wealthy. Bistros and trattorias located in these exquisite courtyards open their doors to the capital’s well-heeled bureaucrats.

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Beijing churned out a series of plans to develop courtyard tourism. A new regulation on courtyard hospitality was unveiled early January 2010, and a street linking Dashila and Liulichang will open to tourists at the end of the year, offering visitors a nostalgic walk through the city’s past.

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Some locals reckon their traditional courtyards have forever gone.

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“What we lost is not only the material of Siheyuan, but also something spiritual, ” Huang Ye, who grew up in Beijing, said. “When I was young all the kids in the courtyard would run and play together from dawn to dusk. But now, we even don’t know our neighbors. ”

Traditional courtyards protection was among the agenda of the 2009 National People’s Political Consultative Conference as many representatives proposed to make it a UNESCO Cultural Heritage, in the hope that the UNESCO enlisting would raise public awareness. Professor Lynn DiStefano from the Architectural Conservation Program of the University of Hong Kong, who is also actively involved in UNESCO cultural heritage programs, said fundamentally education is the answer.

“Just because a building has legal protection, there is no guarantee that the building will be carefully conserved and/or rehabilitated,” Professor Lynn said. "This is especially true at the provincial and municipal levels. Quality work depends on careful implementation by well-trained professionals and tradesmen.”

Higher education institutions in mainland are responding to this call. The Cultural Heritage Law Research Center at Renmin University, established in 2007, is China’s first institute devoted to teaching and researching cultural heritage law . Professor Wang Yunxia, vice director of the center, saw her students as hope for the future.

“Students will become the backbone of governments, law practices, media in the future. If they have fundamental concepts and knowledge of cultural heritage protection, they will surely facilitate our cultural heritage protection in its entirety,” Professor Wang said.

 

 

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原文处处：http://www.allvoices.com/contributed-news/5162938-shall-traditioanl-courtyards-survive-and-prosper