To be honest with you, we aren’t experts in architecture, but really into it. Having been invited to collaborate with Newly Drawn, a group of young Finnish architects, we were taken by the opportunity to explore the topic from an outsider’s perspective, to interview interesting people in the field and dig deeper into our own surroundings as well as placemaking in China.

We started first by producing communications for Snowball architecture events organised as part of Finland’s cultural programme for the Shanghai World Expo, and ended up as editors of the Double Happy publication. Already in the beginning we came across the outlandish duplet: Finnish and Chinese architecture. “What could Finnish and Chinese architects learn from each other?”, we asked ourselves in the midst of trying to encourage Sino-Finnish architectural exchange.

Going to Shanghai in March 2010, we met with both Finnish and Chinese architects who told us about their projects and interests, providing answers to our questions. The discussions revolved around social and ecological issues and innovations, cultural differences and similarities, the potential for collaboration and increasingly crossing disciplines. The contrast between Finland, a small Nordic welfare state still dominated by a modernist stance on architecture, and China, a country undergoing rapid modernisation and thus pushing the boundaries of architectural design, proved to be big. While practitioners in Finland seem to long for a new air of dynamism and change similar to that of the post-war era, Chinese architects returning from their studies abroad are tackling the preservation and development of cultural identity in urbanising China.

For us, it felt natural to approach the topic of Finnish and Chinese architecture by investigating design processes rather than the end results. We set out to pinpoint areas that we found particularly important when it comes to improving life through architecture in Finland and China. Building inspiring and enjoyable cities with many layers and cultural variation as well as creating comfortable homes, work places and public spaces – and routes between them – are, in the end, objectives of architects in both countries. But while Finns know how to support privacy, the Chinese master communality. And while Chinese architects know how to tackle chaos and speed, their Finnish colleagues are experts in taking advantage of tranquility and empty space. These skills can be applied in both countries, even if the starting points and issues are completely different.

Double Happy includes stories that reflect some of the various facets of placemaking. Commissioned by Newly Drawn and head-edited by us, with writings and illustrations from a group of people invited to explore the topic, it draws a picture of Finnish and Chinese architectural environment today. Graphic design and art direction by Åh.

Contributors: Mathieu Borysevicz, Bryan Boyer, Christopher DeWolf, Che Fei 车飞, Pan Jian Feng 潘剑锋, Hanne Granberg, Hella Hernberg, Kaarle Hurtig, Martti Kalliala, Hertta Kiiski, Dylan Kwok, Katja Lindroos, Meri Louekari, Herman Mao, Song Min 宋敏, Bert de Muynck, Rami Niemi, Hans Park, Janne Teräsvirta, Tuomas Toivonen, Timo Tuomas, Valtteri Väkevä & Hu Yang 胡杨

囍 (‘double happy’) is a popular decorative design composed of two stylized characters 喜 (‘joy’ or ‘happiness’). There is a visual resemblance between 囍 and the two lucky digits ‘88’. In Chinese the word for number ‘eight’ (八) sounds similar to the word which means ‘prosper’ or ‘wealth’ (发).

The Snowball project aimed to bring together Finnish and Chinese architecture through two events: one in Kiasma, Helsinki on February 12 and the other in Shanghai on March 25-27, 2010.

The events promoted Sino-Finnish architectural exchange. Tailored for Finnish architects wanting to collaborate with Chinese clients and colleagues, they presented an insight into contemporary opportunities, challenges and ambitions in China and provided the possibility for Finnish architects to present their work to local practitioners.

Snowball Shanghai programme booklet asks what can Finnish and Chinese architects learn from each other.

OK Do edited a programme leaflet for the Snowball Helsinki event as well as a booklet for Snowball Shanghai including articles about the purpose and background of the event as well as a short introduction to the Chinese and Finnish participants.

We also commissioned the design of the event material from Åh who left off with the idea of a snowball effect – a process that builds upon itself, forming a virtuous circle – apt for the series of events bringing together thinking and doing from two cultures. The blue ink snowball grows in size starting from an advertisement and a programme leaflet for Snowball Helsinki and reaching its peak in a programme booklet for Snowball Shanghai.

A hill with a hole. "Paper architecture" by Alexander Brodsky and Ilya Utkin from the book Brodsky & Utkin: The Complete Works (Princeton Architectural Press, 2003).

The backward world

Recently in Shanghai, I saw many people walking backwards on the street and in the parks. As it turns out, they were following the footsteps of a mythic Chinese immortal, who could do it faster than the eye could see. In China, in addition to healthy exercise, walking backwards is also considered akin to a karmic reverse, allowing the walker to correct mistakes and sins of the past. But what is the world like in reverse?

All the time in the world

The weekend never ends in Berlin. There is no financial or social pressure to practice the everyday, so the outgoing Berliners work together to make the city more enjoyable, distorting time and typical etiquettes. In Berlin, a night out can stretch over days, weeks, and even years. As quantum physicists would say, probability is all we ever know about when it will come to an end.

Dream world

Last year, I read The Book of Scotlands, in which Nick Currie aka Momus uses negative space, or Ma in Japanese culture, to discover what his native country of Scotland could  become through writing about everything except the place itself. Like the surrealists – or Soviet “Paper Architects” ignoring the boundaries of possibility and gravity in their 1980s designs – Momus recognises the omnipotence of the imagined. “Every lie creates a parallel world; the world in which it is true,” he says.

The text was published as part of physics studies for the Science Poems book.

Lou YongQi, Aalto & Tongji Design Factory

Having spent 6 years studying in the US, Zhang Ke doesn’t have time to work too much outside China where there’s a lot of demand for urbanism. The same goes for almost all the other local architects we met. Wang Shu, the principal of Amateur Architecture Studio and the head of the architecture department at CAFA in Hangzhou, travelled outside China for the first time in 2001 when presenting his work at the Venice Biennale. “My work has its roots here, it entails a Chinese philosophy,” Wang Shu explains his thoroughly local architecture known for experimental building processes and indigenous use of materials.

Meng Yan and Lou YongQi are also overseas-educated architects who have decided to stay in China. Meng Yan is one of the founders of URBANUS, a think tank operating in Beijing and Shenzhen to provide strategies for urbanism and architecture, and Lou YongQi is the vice dean and associate professor at the department of architecture at Tongji University as well as the coordinator for DESIS-China network. In addition, he is the representative of the Sino-Finnish Aalto & Tongji Design Factory project, which sets out to combine design, business and technology education in Shanghai. Meng Yan and Lou YongQi share their views on the changing role of an architect today. “Design is changing from design doing to design thinking, and architecture needs to contribute to the new ways of development,” Lou YongQi says. “Many aspects of our lives should be re-evaluated, and architects should push the boundaries of their traditional role in order to act as a progressive force in the society,” Meng Yan continues. “For me, any building activity without comprehensive thoughtfulness will be insignificant,” Wang Shu adds.

“Many aspects of our lives should be re-evaluated, and architects should push the boundaries of their traditional role in order to act as a progressive force in the society.” – Meng Yan, URBANUS

The discussion with the foursome revolved around topical design methods such as anthropology, spontaneity and crossing disciplines.

Anthropology

China has many different cultures within it. “When designing to a new area, it’s important to go and stay there for at least a couple of weeks with no preconceptions; get to know the agriculture and talk with people,” says Zhang Ke. “One should neither look up to a culture too much nor look down on it. It’s important to be neutral and not to imitate, yet do something that the locals will accept.” standardarchitecture’s projects, like the Beijing Wuyi Elementary School Auditorium, the CRLand French-Chinese Art Centre in Wuhan or the Qingcheng Mountain Teahouse in Chengdu, often show both a comprehension of the past and a provocative approach in the modern context. “Our projects always include a degree of intellectual debate,” Zhang Ke continues. “They often explore and experiment with new means of construction in and for various cultural or historical urban settings in China.”

Meng Yan, URBANUS & Zhang Ke, standardarchitecture

Taking agriculture as a device for urbanisation seems to be a common approach among the new generation of Chinese architects. Wang Shu’s Amateur Architecture Studio has, for instance, shown an interest in adapting the rural Chinese recycling-based construction methods to the mass creation of new buildings. “Modern buildings are often considered at their best when they have just been finished, when they are shiny and clean, but with historical buildings it’s just the opposite: their value increases over time,” Wang Shu says. “Why not adopt a similar approach to new buildings through the use of recycled materials, for instance? I like materials that have a history and buildings that live, like animals.”

“I like materials that have a history and buildings that live, like animals.” – Wang Shu, Amateur Architecture Studio

Many of Amateur Architecture Studio’s projects, such as the Ningbo Historic Museum or the China Academy of Art in Hangzhou, explore a building’s relationship to nature and its human environments, and Wang Shu likes to take a stand on keeping up with traditional modes of living in a rapidly changing context. “In 20 years, almost 90% of the Chinese landscape, and the Chinese culture with it, has been demolished,” he says. “Every year, I visit the countryside, and it’s like a dream. But there’s no way of going back to the old traditions, so we should come up with new ways to return to the beautiful dream. For instance, not every citizen can have a big house because the population is too large – therefore, that’s not the right dream anymore.”

Meng Yan’s practice, URBANUS, explored traditional Chinese Hakka architecture in their spatial layout for Tulou affordable housing in Guangdong. Drawing on a collective way of living in between the city and the countryside, the idea behind the project was to find inexpensive ways of living together. “Unlike rich people, people with less income need to collaborate and share information in order to find jobs and maintain a nice living,” Meng Yan explains the thinking behind their round-shaped housing blocks. “Besides, their rooms are so small that they need to extend their lives outside them.” Having done a lot of research on low-income housing, studying how much the inhabitants pay for living, how much room do they need, what kind of functionality they find most important and how their safety needs to be ensured, URBANUS came up with design solutions such as a safety door but was surprised about many things that took place in reality. “Luckily, the client didn’t want the safety door because it was too expensive,” Meng Yan says. “As it happens, the people living in Tulou keep their doors open. The housing area is very safe because of the social interaction. People look after each other, and many of them even share cooking during the weekends.” Having had the possibility to continue their anthropological studies thanks to the far reaching thinking of their client, the real estate developer Vanke, URBANUS has learned a lot by observing the life in their building, and even lodging in them for some time.

Spontaneity

Wang Shu speaks for “infinitely spontaneous order” when it comes to designing new buildings. He thinks that modern architecture is often too clean to really resonate with the real life. “I like my buildings bazars rather than sculptures,” he says. “I want to involve people in the process of making places. To me, what makes buildings interesting is the way their inhabitants have repaired or redone them.” Lou YongQi agrees: “We as architects and designers need to learn to give up things. The most beautiful cities are not designed by us, they’ve been built over the years by many different people.”

“We as architects and designers need to learn to give up things. The most beautiful cities are not designed by us, they’ve been built over the years by many different people.” – Lou YongQi, Tongji University

Wang Shu has applied an open and collaborative approach to his architecture from the very beginning. “In 1991, a friend of mine wanted to put up a small temporary theatre in Hangzhou,” he explains. “He didn’t have much money, so we decided to use all of it for buying timber. See, my friend had worked as a stage designer and I knew that stage designers would never leave building material unused. Then, we started a spontaneous process of construction based on my preliminary design. I sat at the construction site smoking and drinking tea, observing carefully and telling the construction workers what to do on the spot – changing the idea of design from concept to action.”

Having worked in close collaboration with construction workers (and mostly with the same ones) for a long time now, Wang Shu knows that rather than practicing abstract thinking, craftmen think by hands. “They always surprise me,” he says. “For example, I designed the facade of the Ningbo Historic Museum using almost forty different materials, carefully planning how they should be placed and how the wall should look. Then, I gave my plan to the construction men and something totally unexpected happened. Due to safety structures, they couldn’t see the whole building at once but rather looked worked on small areas at a time, placing all the materials randomly and thus very differently from what I had planned.” Wang Shu ended up prefering the design of the construction workers over his own and enjoying the feeling of not being able to control everything in the building process. “My work is to give guidelines, a direction for the craftsmen who will then think by hands and come up with new things,” he notes.

Wang Shu, Amateur Architecture Studio

Talking with Wang Shu, it appeared that he saw spontaneity the most interesting thing about Chinese culture in general. And there were similar thoughts in the air with other architects, too. Zhang Ke, for instance, has experimented with visible flooding pipes in standardarchitecture’s French-Chinese Cultural Exchange Center project. “Let it happen in China,” he states, referring not only to the flooding pipes quite randomly cutting a building but also to things like interior design projects changing the functions of buildings overnight, or the overall fast speed and short timeframe of projects.

“Let it happen in China.” – Zhang Ke, standardarchitecture

Crossing disciplines

“In China, young creative practitioners don’t feel a need to define whether they are architects, designers or whatever,” Zhang Ke says. “It’s interesting to work with people from different fields. The Sino-Finnish Aalto & Tongji Design Factory project also aims to combine design, technology and business in the education of future creative professionals. “We want to create an interdisciplinary platform where people can meet and start thinking differently,” Lou YongQi explains. Inspired by IDEO, the project focuses on new ways of development through social innovation. “I have realised a lot of architecture, 30 000 sqm of public building, during my career, but understanding people has turned out the most challenging task,” Lou YongQi says. “And how to make people with different ideas and skills to communicate? Instead of thinking about apples, oranges and bananas, one needs to think about mixing ice cream to get new flavours.”

“Understanding people is the most challenging task.” – Lou YongQi, with the experience of 30 000 sqm of public architecture

URBANUS collaborates with an artist, a multimedia designer and a graphic design office on a daily basis, organising workshops for sharing ideas at the office. They also run a space for contemporary art shows on the other side of the street from their Shenzhen office. Space e-6 involves different curators who put together exhibitions from architecture to photography, film and sculpture. Instead of calling themself an architecture office, URBANUS is a think tank. “We’re not different from typical architectural practices – all of them work hard and do more things that they’re capable of,” Meng Yan laughs. “No, seriously, when we started our office, coming back to China from our studies in the US ten years ago, we found that urbanisation was in a critical point here. And we saw new problems coming with it; problems that we hadn’t experienced before. So, we started thinking how we could define the problems and positioned ourselves as progressive architects asking questions and improving urban life. And not only the harware like buildings and spaces but the software, too – the life that would take place in these containers. It’s been quite time consuming to run an office like this, but we never once questioned our goal yet.”

Both Meng Yan, Lou YongQi, Wang Shu and Zhang Ke seem to agree that architects need to search for contemporary ideas through working beyond their typical boundaries and with different people. They all see the role of an architect as a progressive force in the society, emphasising the importance of research and questioning things in designing buildings or cities. “There are so many issues that are impossible to solve, so, instead, we need to start raising questions,” says Zhang Ke. “Naturally, clients aren’t always open for discussion and inquiry is often out of the question. Luckily, however, this seems to be changing as the clients get younger.” “Faced with continuous renewal, is it possible for architecture to be more flexible and participate in shaping new values?,” Wang Shu asks. “For me, architecture is only part time work. Humanity is more important.”

OK, a street shop for xiaolongbao.

1. Street

In Shanghai, life extends from rooms to the street. From mahjong playing to washing laundry, people use asphalt as a base for carrying out daily activities together. Cooking, selling food and eating being some of them, we were taken by xiaolongbao as well as other local delights prepared on the spot.

One day, we tried to find a pair of Lilliputian stools which locals use a lot yet which don’t seem to be sold anywhere. The trick was to find one on the street and ask the owner if she wished to sell it. In fact, she wasn’t the owner of the stool, but a neighbour who happened to be the closest person standing by. In only a few seconds, she set up an ad hoc sales team: another neighbour brought a calculator for price negotiation, someone else went in search for more seats while a third person fetched us a carrier bag. Finally, the payment was delivered to the owner herself, busy doing laundry.

Instead of inviting friends to their homes, Shanghai people like to gather in some of the countless eateries of the city. Noriko Daishima, a Shanghai-based designer of Japanese origin (read our story about her), explains this through the fact that Chinese homes are very small, but also through the love of the streets. “I’ve heard that there are around 30 000 restaurants in Shanghai,” she points out.

Noriko shares a garden with her neighbours. It's both a meeting place and a working site.

2. Sharing

Sharing is caring, they say. Sometimes we got the feeling that Chinese people care about each other more than, for example, Finns. This caring and trust was manifest in doors that are left wide open in the middle of the city or a shop owner that left her outlet as well as a one-year-old child (slightly anxious) in our hands in order to go and find out whether another store had the product we sought.

The contemporary Chinese architecture is keen on addressing the concept of sharing, too. Metropolises in China are like laboratories where traditional practices of everyday life get tested against modern concepts and contexts. Meng Yan from URBANUS, the office behind Tulou low-income housing concept, has been surprised by the level of communality shown by Chinese inhabitants in their projects. “I know that it is crucial for many Chinese people to exchange information about jobs etc. with their neighbours, but the Tulou residents even take turns in cooking for each other.”

“In China, everything happens through friends,” describes another local architect, Kok-Meng Tan of KUU. We like the idea. A big city doesn’t have to mean a loss of trust towards others, or living detached from your neighbours. Having learned to be so independent, it might be the time to search the villagers inside us for the sake of “better city, better life,” as Expo 2010 Shanghai puts it.

Laundry day in the neighbourhood around West Mall.

3. Straightforward

“In Finland, people think a lot and in Shanghai, they do a lot,” our friend, a Shanghai-based artist and designer Pan Jian Feng reviews his experiences of both cultures. Although some areas of the Chinese society, such as doing bigger business in Shanghai, are extremely complicated, the methodology of daily life is often very straightforward – and extremely efficient. Working with Mr. Feng himself, we have found that plans are taken into action very quickly. While we might still be pondering which of the alternative concepts might work the best, he would have already tested them out.

Going back to the food, some of our favourite restaurants were tiny, anonymous noodle places where one would pick up the chosen ingredients (like pak choi, fried tofu and fishballs) in a basket and have them quickly turned into a soup by adding stock. Quick, flexible and uncomplicated. A recipe that, at times, works like a good design method, too.

When it comes to the relationship between design and production, China is full of opportunities for finding direct collaborators for handicrafts. People are still familiar with materials and accustomed to doing things with their hands. “Inspired by the traditional Chinese way of working, materials are my starting point,” says a Hangzhou architect Wang Shu. “I think we should look at rural construction methods and materials when trying to solve issues of, for example, sustainability. Hands are good for thinking.”

Goodbye Shanghai, so long xiaolongbao!

Written people in the life of Pan Jian Feng.

“It’s all about life,” Pan Jian Feng tells me about taking up art. “Art is more like a continuation of my life while in an agency you always had to work according to a brief.” However, in China, moving from the corporate world to the artistic one is rare. “It made my mom very angry,” he says.

In the blue in southern France.

Like the Western blue or the enamel cup, Pan Jian Feng’s work involves a lot of symbols that require some knowledge of Chinese culture and aesthetics to understand. For instance, while studying Visual Communication at the University of Central England, he made a design with red images representing longevity and happiness, which his tutor interpreted as bloody and violent. Moreover, his typography often involves hidden messages playing with the Chinese writing system.

Currently Pan Jian Feng is focusing his skills on experimental typography with the aim of developing a forum for international dialogue in the field. His latest works include a game which applies Chinese calligraphy styles and techniques to Western typography and contemporary communication. In the meanwhile, he keeps on reading and writing people.