From Round to Square (and back)

For The Emperor's Teacher, scroll down (↓) to "Topics." It's the management book that will rock the world (and break the vase, as you will see). Click or paste the following link for a recent profile of the project: http://magazine.beloit.edu/?story_id=240813&issue_id=240610

A new post appears every day at 12:05* (CDT). There's more, though. Take a look at the right-hand side of the page for over four years of material (2,000 posts and growing) from Seinfeld and country music to every single day of the Chinese lunar calendar...translated. Look here ↓ and explore a little. It will take you all the way down the page...from round to square (and back again).
*Occasionally I will leave a long post up for thirty-six hours, and post a shorter entry at noon the next day.
Showing posts with label housing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label housing. Show all posts

Friday, January 27, 2012

Asian Miscellany (20)—Housing in Heian Japan

[a] Housing RF
My last few posts in "Asian Miscellany" have been driven by deadline—and many of them will follow in the coming weeks and months, since I have signed contracts to deliver a whole passel of encyclopedic material to various publishers before a self-imposed deadline of January 30th. As I explained in the introduction, this series of posts allows me to try out a few ideas that I plan eventually to include in various encyclopedias or on-line sites that have asked for my input. They are not the same as the pieces that will eventually be published, but constitute more of a "long draft," meant to work through a few ideas as I work on brief essays that often mandate strict "word counts" of 250, 500, 1,000, or 2,000 words. 

For the next dozen or so posts, I have been asked to write about Heian Japan (794-1185). It is one of the most fascinating periods in world history, so I trust that the topics will "connect" for readers of the first ten "Asian Miscellany" posts (almost all of the topics—children, family, urban/rural—are the same). They work well for people interested in a brief introduction to Heian Japan or for people interested in comparative issues. Although an introduction to the Heian period in Japan would require its own introduction, I trust that a reading of these "Heian Japan posts (11-20 in Asian Miscellany) will encourage a few of you to read a bit of the literature of the period.


Click here for other posts in the Heian Japan mini-series:
City-Country    Children         Food-Drink      Entertainment               Sports-Games
Education        Family Life     Work-Labor     Language-Literature     Housing-Shelter
Housing in Heian Japan was dominated by a common theme and a stark variation. The divide can be seen between urban and rural locales, where in each case the structures were made to fit the demands of ritual and commercial life, on the one hand, and agricultural productivity, on the other. Housing in Japan’s tenth century began with functionality and moved outward toward more and more refined definitions of space and place. What they all had in common is just as important as the differences, and that is wood. This is also one of the reasons that the oldest housing in Japan having exact origins dates back only to the beginning of the seventeenth century. Various reasons—from climate to disaster and simple desire to rebuild—have been given for the fact that structures in Japan rarely approach the age of those in China or Europe. As we will see, there are many reasons for Japan’s distinctiveness, and its housing combines to this day a balance of materials dominated by wood. 
[b] Wooden RF

Wood Architecture 
Wood has dominated Japanese architecture in a way that is paralleled by only a few world civilizations, and none as complex as Japan’s. Long after other materials were abundantly available, many builders preferred the elegant simplicity of wooden structures, as well as the powerful linkages created by traditional “joinery” of wooden beams, which created a formidable stability that was rivaled by few other materials. To be sure, the elaborate castles of later ages were made of many materials, including wood, stone, and mortar, and the most elaborate palace structures in Heian Japan used multiple materials. Still, wooden beams provided the vast majority of housing materials during this period, and the very connotations of wood have cultural powers rivaled only by a few other items in Japan.  

Rural Housing 
It is difficult to speak with authority about rural housing in Heian Japan, since few documents mention structural details beyond the configuration of housing and fields. Several authors mention the advantage of a village-field structure that mimicked the classical Chinese model of the “well-field” system, in which agricultural fields bordered a central village, whose workers would move out in the various directions to tend to the work of the allied families farming the area. 

The Chinese character used to represent the “well-field” system (井) gives a clear representation of this ideal. Each of the outer fields would be equipped with a boarding house for adolescent boys and working-age men, who would spend significant amounts of time in the late-spring, summer, and autumn working the fields. Whole communities, dominated traditionally by women planting the rice seedlings, would begin the year in the joint effort to create a crop that would culminate in a robust harvest in the autumn.

Architectural designs emerge from social and productive activities. The very facts of agricultural life demanded structures that could store grain, dry it, and allow for processing. It is not difficult to see that these structures needed to be centrally located within the village, and the grains were transported from the outer fields to these buildings in the village center. Residential housing in rural areas was built around these key economic sites. With a combination of “centered” housing and outer “field” housing, the villages were able to integrate a fairly large territory under the labor of a rural community. Above this, however, lay one more integral element: the growing manorial (shōen) system that increasingly linked rural areas to the capital, and eventually would lead to a complete political and economic transformation of Japan.
[c] Beaming RF

Urban Housing
The manorial system (shōen) is the key linkage between urban and rural life, including housing. The revenues that would build elaborate structures in the Heian capital came from the provinces, the rural areas. Even though almost none of the literature of Heian Japan speaks to these matters, a few records show the burgeoning economic life beyond the capital. Many of these revenues were sent to the related and powerful families in the capital, not the least being the imperial family itself and the most dominant family in all of Heian life, the Fujiwara.[1]

The metropolis of Heian Kyō exhibited these tensions between rural and urban revenues. The money came from afar, but the life of the capital was directed toward the inner realm of the palace buildings. Not unlike the schema seen in rural life, the capital formed the center of a conceptual grid, and wealthy or well-connected families encircled the palace grounds. Having a well-placed location near the palace was a sign of wealth and connections, and such things were highly prized. 

Beyond the palace grounds—where disastrous fires led to temporary accommodations every decade or so during the worst conflagrations of the tenth and eleventh centuries—lay the most venerable temple structures. Of these, few can match the Tōdaiji temple, one of the greatest Buddhist structures in all of Japan, and a center for artistic enterprise and Buddhist worship for centuries. Centered in Nara (the capital before Heian times), the Tōdaiji temple’s wooden structure houses a mammoth fifty-three foot “Great Buddha” that has cast a distinctive architectural gaze over the islands of Japan since its “eye-opening” ceremony in 752, which is still known as one of the greatest public ceremonies in all of Japanese history. 
[d] Meticulous RF

Nearby is the completely wooden Shōshōin, which has been described as a kind of elegant and religious cabin of wooden beams that has been raised almost three meters over the ground on wooden pillars. Maintained and meticulously rebuilt over the centuries, the building houses some of the rarest collections in all of Japan, including the personal items of Emperor Shōmu from the eighth century. It also houses items that break with the common view of Japanese diplomatic history—materials from the Silk Road trade that include objects from central Asia, Europe, China, as well as south, south-east, and northern Asia. The wooden architecture of this simple building speaks to its ability to preserve among the rarest items in the entire country in a housing of wooden logs.
  ***  *** 
The materials came from afar—farthest of all when considering the capital. In each case, housing was built according to a grid that fit the economic, social, and commercial needs of the community. These differed greatly between the outer provinces and the inner capital, but wooden structures dominated and the burgeoning agricultural income from the provinces should never be forgotten when studying the life of Heian Japan. 

Click here for other posts in the Heian Japan mini-series:
City-Country    Children         Food-Drink      Entertainment               Sports-Games
Education        Family Life     Work-Labor     Language-Literature     Housing-Shelter



[e] Tree-lined RF
[1] Although even experienced authors vary in their styles, East Asian surnames generally do not take an “s” in their plural forms when rendered into Romanized letters. For this reason, these essays refer to the Fujiwara (not “Fujiwaras”) in plural form.

Friday, October 14, 2011

Asian Miscellany (4)—Housing in Modern China

[a] Architecture RF
My last few posts in "Asian Miscellany" have been driven by deadline—and many of them will follow in the coming weeks and months, since I have signed contracts to deliver a whole passel of encyclopedic material to various publishers before a self-imposed deadline of December 20th. As I explained in the introduction, this series of posts allows me to try out a few ideas that I plan eventually to include in various encyclopedias or on-line sites that have asked for my input. They are not the same as the pieces that will eventually be published, but constitute more of a "long draft," meant to work through a few ideas as I work on brief essays that often mandate strict "word counts" of 250, 500, 1,000, or 2,000 words. 

For today's post, I have been asked to write about housing in modern China...in the space of only 1,000 words. I "spend" a little more verbiage than that here, but not much. The approach I have taken is that it is a mistake only to look at the urban skyline (stunning though it is), and an even more serious error to forget the social life that surrounds (and inhabits) all architecture.


Feel free to peruse the other Modern China posts in Asian Miscellany. 
1 One-Child              2 Education             3 Food/Drink          4 House           5 Work          
6 Entertainment       7 Sports/Games       8 Urban/Rural        9 Family Life    10 Children
 
[b] Vertical RF
It is almost impossible to speak of “housing” in China without discussing urban and rural locales. Although the various housing options found in today’s People’s Republic of China cover a vast array of styles and strategies, the greatest differences can be found between dwellings in cities, on the one hand, and rural housing, on the other. It is not as predictable a matter as it might seem after reading this title and first sentence. Not unlike experiences people have in North America and Europe, rural housing (especially among the newly affluent) can be spacious, even magisterial, while urban housing can be cramped and relentlessly “vertical,” an issue that has caused enormous concern in Shanghai, Beijing, Chengdu, and other large cities after a series of disastrous fires in the last decade. China is ever changing, and it can be seen quite clearly in housing patterns.

Traditional Housing

The Chinese family ideal from earliest times centered around what is called the “round” family. This almost unattainable ideal of five generations living under one roof remained has persisted even into the present. Today, when better health care make it at least a theoretical possibility, families (and housing units) have been broken down into two- or three-generation housing (and social) structures. In earlier times, it was scarcely even possible to imagine five generations being alive at the same time. Indeed, one of the classic works of literature dealing with family issue—the seventeenth century novel Dream of the Red Chamber (紅樓夢)—only has three generations cast about its sprawling narrative.

[c] Gate RF
So what can be made of an idealistic vision of social life that almost never happened? To begin, it has played into many aspects of architecture and planning, even into the present. Chinese family life was traditionally tied to the land, and the rural home of families with even moderate income was one that had the potential to house diverse family members and generations. Indeed, even to this day, the Chinese calendar has a series of activities to do (and others to avoid) that speaks far more directly to a sprawling rural housing complex than urban apartment life. These include “creating irrigation ditches,” “erecting beams and fences,” and so forth. Housing is as much an idea as a practicality (something every operation from Home Depot to IKEA understands), and the idea in China has always held the potential, whether realized or not, to include more people.


Rural Housing
Farming life still dominates much of China, and the range of dwellings that fit those needs are diverse. In the poorest villages, the structures are quite modest and sometimes—as I have seen in parts of Shanxi and Shaanxi—built to make use of hillsides or natural cave configurations. In more affluent farming villages, it is very common to see two or three story houses—often quite grand and built with income that was not available in such venues just forty years ago. The contrast between the traditional one-story structures (often with added segments to accommodate growing or coalescing kinship configurations) and these shiny, towering buildings can be startling.

[d] Farm RF

A further constant in rural life should be mentioned, even as we remember that—even today—there is much more to China than its major cities. Farming life requires housing that can respond, as it were, to the needs of agricultural labor. From earliest times, housing was created near the fields so that laborers could work the soil during the height of the growing season. These structures remain a significant part of social life, especially from planting to harvesting, all over China. The relationship between the “homestead,” so to speak, and the smaller huts for laborers might recall for some readers the kind of joint (and highly “gendered”) responsibilities of workers on American farms several decades ago, with meals brought to workers in the fields and workers laboring until well after sunset. The dynamic persists all over China today.


Urban Housing

It has been useful to go “against the grain” of travelers’ immediate experiences, so that we do not let the rapid changes taking place on China’s urban landscape dominate our thinking about this large and complex society. Nonetheless, a drive through any large city in China will show not only a breathtaking array of skyscrapers, but advertisements everywhere for condominiums, housing units, and apartments. Saving for one’s first residence is one of the most formidable—and stressful—matters for any urban dweller in China. The expectation that a young man be able to provide at least a nice apartment as part of the marriage “contract” has become cemented in most discussions of the marital alliance. It is often a very difficult equation. Without help from family members—including somewhat extended kinship networks—it is often impossible for even a university graduate just a few years into a first job to buy an apartment on his—or her—own.


[e] Assembly RF
It would be hard to know this from the advertisements, though. Everywhere, in large cities, one sees trendy, new housing being constructed. Huge billboards proclaim, in text and pictures, the comfortable life that will be found in the new units, and they are meant to sell out long before they are built. Little is left to chance, including the matter (extremely important to this day) of “lucky” phone numbers. I am always struck by the range of apartment complex telephone numbers with “8” in them (one of the “luckiest” numbers in Chinese culture, and one for which a company must pay significant money. “Call 8886-8889” or combinations of “8s,” “6s,” and other numbers is so common that it is easy to forget that they are serving a combined cultural and economic goal.

Not far behind the new housing complexes (purchased, in many ways, to leverage the future) is the explosion in home décor stores. IKEA has outlets in several large cities, and indigenous versions of it can be found in even towns of modest size.  Not very long ago in Xi’an (the home of the terra-cotta warriors and several early Chinese dynastic capitals), I heard an advertisements that represents a significant change in beliefs about housing in China. 我爱我家, said the breathless, maternal voice. That phrase (“I love my home”—in the sense of its décor—would likely have stunned people from fifty or more years ago).[1] The globalization (and selling—or “commodification”) of the individual home is blazing through urban China, and it is a very new process. Identification with the home and its furnishings represents a subtle but significant shift from the always expandable hub of kinship energy from earlier times.


  ***  ***
[f] Teahouse RF

Nonetheless, it is important not to over-interpret these changes. The them of "expandability" with which we began is exactly where we will finish. Whether we speak of sprawling seventeenth century landed estates, rural housing and its focus on the fields to be worked, or a rapidly changing urban high-rise culture (with its attendant—and powerfully real—terror of fire) the most powerful theme is its ability, or at least the ingenious capabilities of its inhabitants, to expand to meet the needs of grandma, grandpa, out-of-town relatives, or the little cherub who will occupy the next generation. Social adaptability remains foremost in the housing world, and that remains as true for Shanghai as it does for Huayin, the little village at the foot of China's northern sacred mountain.

[1] I just learned from a colleague that 我爱我家 was also the title of a Chinese television drama in the mid-1990s.

 
Feel free to peruse the other Modern China posts in Asian Miscellany. 
1 One-Child              2 Education             3 Food/Drink          4 House           5 Work          
6 Entertainment       7 Sports/Games       8 Urban/Rural        9 Family Life    10 Children