Once the largest city in the world, Xian has been the capital of China for over 4000 years of its history.  There are artifacts from many periods of Chinese development.  In the central city, however, there are beautifully preserved relics that date back to the 14th and 15th century, the height of the Ming Dynasty.  The 9-mile long city walls are still intact and well preserved as are the Bell Tower, Drum Tower, the Great

Bell Tower

Drum Tower

Courtyard House in Muslim Quarter

Great Mosque--largest one in China. It is interesting to see this mix of Muslim religion and Chinese culture embodied in a single piece of architecture.

Mosque and several landmark homes.

Images of the Terra Cotta Warriors makes almost anyone want to travel to China.  Created over 2200 years ago and buried until a farmer discovered them in 1974, these vast excavations definitely live up to expectations.  The objects are beautiful.  The story of  a great leader preparing for protection in the afterlife for decades is mysterious and compelling.  The archeological feat underway is daunting.  Over 7000 soldiers have been unearthed, but many more remain underground.  Work is ongoing and visible to visitors.  The skill and creativity in the display of the material is impressive as well.

Half actual size bronze chariot made of 3600 pieces found near the burial mound of emperor Qin Shi Huangdi's tomb.

Detail of chariot.

Chariot's four horses.

Tomb of Liu Qi, fourth emperor of the Han Dynasty (206 BC-220 AD) on the other side of Xian from the Terra Cotta Warrior excavations.

Excavations of Liu Qi's tomb.

Although 92% of China’s population is the majority Han ethnicity there are a number of minority cultures that are often located in remote areas.  Some of these minority people live in beautiful Zhuang, Yao and Dong villages in the mountains of southern China where time seems to have stood still.  There are often no roads to these villages, and you must hike in an hour or more to get there.  The terrain is steep and dramatic, and the villages are nestled gracefully in to the mountainsides.  The farmers tend beautiful rice crops on terraces that have been in operation for generations.  Intricate irrigation systems feed the fields and create the constant sound of moving water.

The wooden houses here generally have a ground floor dedicated to stock, a middle floor for human habitation and a top floor for storing harvests.  The weathered wood and grey tile roofs make the buildings seems like they have just grown out of the soil of the mountain.

Flooded rice fields make swirling patterns accentuating the contours of the mountains.

Very labor intensive farming by hand.

Buildings and terraces are all generated by the contours of the landscape.

Stone entry gate on footpath to Zhuang village.

Wooden buildings are large, but dark and well integrated into the landscape.

Simple, sensible vernacular buildings.

Local forests are primary source of materials.

New construction follows longstanding patterns.

Different floors for different functions is articulated in the massing.

Slopes are steep and difficult for buildings to negotiate.

Bridge over irrigation channel.

A plaque in the bridge gave credit to all of the villagers who donated their time and resources to build it communally.

All transportation is via footpaths.

A few beasts of burden can negotiate the paths.

Mostly, humans are the beasts of burden.

Village life is slow and quiet.

Work is steady and constant.

There is a soft patina of age on everything.

Distinctive vertical stonework.

Emblem in paving that depicts the cooperation of three cultures--three fishes with one head.

Taking a boat up the Li River from Yangshuo is like taking a big step back into time.  The villages have a slow, ancient way of life cross-bred with electronic media access and a reputation for beauty and authenticity that has brought the likes of Bill Clinton to visit.  There is some kind of compelling force that keeps people in these villages and loyal to a longstanding way of life.  It is hard to make even a very modest living, and inhabitants are often forced to live for periods of time in the nearest big city, Guangzhou, to make money in order to continue living at any level of comfort in the villages.  Life is slow and very basic.

A kind of primitive grandeur greets visitors from the river.

The gateway from the river is also a landmark on what once must have been a little square, but is now just left over space.

For a rural village, the buildings were remarkably well built.

There is rich ornament and a strong sense of style, though much of the detail is crumbling.

Abandoned home that once housed a wealthy family.

Sweet, evocative streets

Many passages are just muddy lanes--as they might have always been.

Some houses are freshly plastered and relatively well maintained.

Rich patina of time.

Details that indicate status of original residents.

Faded slogans from the Cultural Revolution

Evidence of ancient farm practices still alive and well.

Gaggles of farm animals.

Ubiquitous rural chickens

Elegance and exquisite craft in some of the courtyards

Though deteriorated, some of the interior spaces are quite grand. Mao still rules out here.

Though the domestic life seems very basic and rudimentary, the TV is always in the background.

Will this kid stay in his village after a childhood filled with the outside world via electronic media?

Remarkably, the current generation did make the decision to stay even in the midst of massive urbanization in China.

Even though life on the river is still completely dependent on the traditional river raft, it might be made of PVC pipe today rather than of bamboo. Time marches on.

Jinmao Dasha tower by SOM--one of the tallest buildings in the world at 1379 feet

Shanghai Financial Center by KPF--another of the tallest buildings in the world at 1509 feet.

Some of the many "minor" towers at 40-50 stories

Dense towers of multifamily housing

Lower density housing from early stages of Pudong development

Large parks and grad boulevards are interspersed with the towers.

There are also impressive cultural facilities in Pudong like this performing arts center by Paul Andreu.

Before 1990 Pudong was one of the poorest districts in Shanghai, full of squalid slums and industrial plants belching polluted air.  Just 20 years ago it was declared a Special Economic Zone and became one of the largest building sites in the world–at one point reputed to have been home to one-third of the world’s largest cranes.  Now it is a forrest of skyscrapers with freeways, boulevards and parks at ground level.

Shanghai has over 4000 high rise buildings exceeding 20 stories making it one of the densest cities in the world.  It has a remarkable subway and fast train system that has come all-at-once along with the building boom.  The results in terms of urban are both frightening and fascinating.

We try so hard in American cities to get an active pedestrian street scene to happen.  In China, with a billion people and 17 million in Shanghai alone, there never seems to be an issue with action on the street day or night.  And, of course, where there are people around, cool things just seem to happen serendipitously.  On Nanjing Dong Lu in downtown Shanghai the mixture of aggressive retailers, garish signs, bustling crowds and lots of hawkers is complimented by ballroom dancing in the street and slackers just hanging out.  What a scene!

We try so hard in American cities to get an active pedestrian street scene to happen.  In China, with a billion people and 17 million in Shanghai alone, there never seems to be an issue with action on the street day or night.  And, of course, where there are people around, cool things just seem to happen serendipitously.  On Nanjing Dong Lu in downtown Shanghai the mixture of aggressive retailers, garish signs, bustling crowds and lots of hawkers is complimented by ballroom dancing in the street and slackers just hanging out.  What a scene!

Zhouzhuang, west of Shanghai, and Tongli, southeast of Shanghai, seem light years away from the city.  They bear the deep patina of time as much as Shanghai gleams with newness.  It is amazing how timeless and universal the principals of town building are.  The narrow streets and canals and stone buildings are not so different from what one might find in a fine old French, Italian or German village.  But glimpses into the alleys, courtyards and open doors of houses give a strong sense of China.  Mao’s picture still hangs in older people’s homes.  Unfamiliar grains, fruits and vegetables populate the markets.  Old guys relax in a deep squat chatting with each other.

Canal in Tongli has impressive stonework built to last.

Even old people seem tough and hard working.

Guys just hanging out in a shop.

Candy maker pulverizing nuts.

Pulling a taffy-like sweet.

There is a quiet serenity away from the center of Zhouzhuang.

Age seems to make buildings better, not deteriorated.

Gorgeous stonework creeps through the aging stucco.

Paving is extraordinary in these small towns--sometimes massive stone slabs, sometimes delicate and intricate patterns.

Boats are a major means of transport.

What a contrast with the fast pace and crowds of Shanghai!

Much of the work takes place in alleys and courtyards.

I am actually getting to the point I prefer those colorful plastic containers in the market to the traditional straw ones.

Chickens are ubiquitous in rural China.

Mao's picture, once a fixture in most Chinese households, is now relegated to older people's homes.

We try so hard in American cities to get an active pedestrian street scene to happen.  In China, with a billion people and 17 million in Shanghai alone, there never seems to be an issue with action on the street day or night.  And, of course, where there are people around, cool things just seem to happen serendipitously.  On Nanjing Dong Lu in downtown Shanghai the mixture of aggressive retailers, garish signs, bustling crowds and lots of hawkers is complimented by ballroom dancing in the street and slackers just hanging out.  What a scene!

I attended the Design Awards dinner for AIA Houston recently and was quite impressed with the standards of the awards program, the quality of the jurors and the thoughtful way the program was conducted.  I am a big believer in the peer review process as a means to identify and recognize good work that becomes exemplary in setting new directions for our field.  That is why one element of the program was disturbing to me.

Here in the fourth largest city in the country, there seemed to be an inordinate emphasis on “small” projects.  Nine awards were given for new buildings recently completed.  Five of those were given to single family homes, two were for interiors and one was for a very clever carport and parking lot.  Only one award was given for a building of over 50,000 square feet.  Although there were dozens of substantial sized schools, office buildings, medical facilities, government and university buildings etc. submitted, only one was selected for an award.  Whereas one in six of the houses submitted might have won an award, more like one in sixty of the larger buildings won an award.  Having kept up with dozens of such awards programs over the years, it strikes me that the AIA Houston program is not so unusual.  Why are so few larger buildings chosen as models for the best of architectural design in programs like this?  (I should note that this is certainly not sour grapes on my part since the one large building selected, the General Services Administration Field Office, is the only one submitted in which I had any involvement.)

Maybe one could argue that the really good designers are mostly doing smaller houses and interiors and the designers working on larger buildings are just less skilled and therefore less appropriate to be recipients of awards.  That argument seems seriously flawed given the fact that some of the same designers who win awards for “boutique” projects have much less luck when they submit their larger projects.  It also seems very unlikely that all the best talent in the field has somehow gravitated to these little projects and eschewed participation in projects that might have a broader cultural role.  I think this very common pattern of awards recognition is symptomatic of an obsession with the small in our field that is very problematic.

Don’t get me wrong.  I love doing single family houses and other small projects, and have almost always had one going on at pretty much any point in my career.  They are far less complicated than larger buildings, and there is much more opportunity for control on the part of the architect.  Clients and users are less complex and hydra-headed.  Both fees and construction budgets are generally more flexible and much higher per square foot.  Their smaller size inherently makes it simpler to get your arms around the problem and understand every detail.  Frankly, they are just easier.  I think that is why so many projects in architecture schools are small.  They are manageable, and satisfying results can be achieved by a single student working alone for the limited time-frame of a semester.  Maybe we are trained in school to think this is the premier vehicle for good design–a project that can be boiled down to a simple concept, conceived in a napkin sketch or two, worked through in one head over a few months and presented in a handful of snappy drawings.

Unfortunately, the kinds of buildings our culture needs from us as architects are not that simple.  Children in our cities need schools that will stimulate them and facilitate their education, and these will not be tiny little schoolhouses anymore.  The workforce of our society needs office buildings, production facilities and other work places that will be nurturing, efficient and beautiful places to spend 8+ hours a day–often more hours than we spend in our homes.  Our cities need multi-family housing environments that create sustainable patterns of living while also making well-scaled, neighborly places for everyday life.  We need healthcare environments where both medical staff and patients feel supported and where design contributes to medical advances and individual patient healing.  All of these needs require large, complex buildings with a diverse range of users, complicated processes of design and construction and a wide array of architectural skills.

Shouldn’t we be recognizing, awarding and learning from the best of the kinds of buildings our society desperately needs us to design well?  Shouldn’t well designed large buildings–like schools, office buildings, laboratories, retail centers, airports, convention centers, university buildings, public buildings etc.–be purposefully represented in our awards programs?  In the 25+ design awards juries I have served on I have made it a point to be an advocate for the practice of architecture that serves large numbers of everyday people in their daily lives.  I am certainly proud to recognize the exquisite small project that is full of control and finesse.  But these projects should stand, in design awards programs, alongside a good complement of projects that make a substantial contribution to solving the larger architectural problems of our society.