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Like the Saint-Laurent, Vancouver’s Fraser is a workhorse of a river. Industrial islands and seemingly endless log booms make for an interesting and active landscape, very different from the bulk of imagery one typically sees of Vancouver’s waterfront. These photos were taken from above in November, 2007.
Runner south of Suzhou Creek
The new government building in Kunming, which strikes a great pagoda pose from a distance and serves as a great landmark. It’s even being used in real estate ads elsewhere in the city as a marker of prestige.
Capital of southwestern China’s Yunnan Province, Kunming is a fairly unassuming, extensively modernised city. No part of it seems to be bustling or teeming with activity, yet none of it’s deserted or windswept, either. While the downtown shows the classic traces of contemporary transformation — the Carrefour, the Kentucky Fried Chicken, the brightly lit pedestrian streets lined with outlet after outlet of the same national chains — it’s in Kunming’s suburbs that these changes seem more like a work-in-progress and less of a fait accompli.
A view of southern Kunming and the Dian Chi (lake) from the Xi Shan (West Hills). The elevated highway seems to have radically changed the lakefront- riding underneath one can’t help but notice a sense of decline in the adjacent properties, which though becoming increasingly decrepit, seem to have once been fairly sought-after retreats, with large lawns, and of course that now-lost view.
According to many, especially disgruntled Hong Kong shopkeepers, Shenzhen’s Luohu (Lo Wu) district functions as a giant discount mall, just over the border. There’s even a book (widely available in Hong Kong) titled ‘Shop in Shenzhen’ with advice on where to get the best knockoff purses, and where the best foot massages are to be found. Here’s what it looks like, if you’re able to make it out of Luohu’s Commercial City mall, where central Luohu actually has some quite lively pedestrian streets, just one metro stop north of the border with Hong Kong.
Further west, Hua Qiang Bei road is pulling young crowds increasingly interested in clothes, rather than wholesale electronics.
The rapid urbanization of Shenzhen since 1980 has generated a contemporary landscape dotted with a series of urban villages, enclaves of buzzing urbanity and street life situated on land owned by Shenzhen’s original rural residents. These areas house much of Shenzhen’s floating population of workers from across China.
The local farmers or fishers who are now the village landlords have usually completely re-arranged their village space, which is increasingly hemmed in by commercial or residential high-rise projects. Shenzhen’s urban villages are typically a fabric of tightly packed ten to fifteen storey walk-up apartment buildings, with ground floor commercial, arranged around a very permeable street grid, punctuated with the odd public space or market. There are usually some fairly spacious main streets, but most of the buildings are accessed through a warren of alleys and pathways, most less than two metres wide, that wind their way between the buildings. Amazingly, there’s still some commercial activity within the maze—such as informal bicycle repair shops or very small canteens.
While they have struggled with a poor reputation in Shenzhen, and in other Chinese cities in which the phenomenon occurs, urban villages are starting to be perceived as islands of vitality, street life, and holdouts of traditional culture in the sea of modernity that is Shenzhen. One village in Shenzhen’s Futian district, Shuiwei, is even being targeted for tourism, while many others are falling under the scope of the somewhat ominous-sounding Urban Village Renovation Project.
One of many groups on a weekday morning, in a beautiful lakeside park in north-central Guangzhou.
Sticky summer days in Guangzhou, Guangdong Province, China. Guangzhou’s an old city with lots of outdoor life, especially in the parks and smaller neighbourhood streets.
Mahjong players on Guangzhou’s Shamian Island, once the European district. The set back buildings create a many wonderful places to while away a summer afternoon playing mahjong.
Lighting incense in front of a Guangzhou temple.
The Hua Qiang Bei skyline at dusk from the 20th floor of the Sichuan hotel, looking west. The tall building to the left is the 2nd highest in Shenzhen (for now) and was the site of the first electronics factory to be converted into a market, and subsequently an office tower. Its main tenant, SEG, is one of the biggest players in the neighbourhood.
When North Americans think of deindustrialization and China, we’re usually pretty quick to conclude that, since our cities have so little industry left, and so much of what we buy comes with a “made in China” sticker on it, then the new industrial zones, like Shenzhen, in the Pearl River Delta, must be chock full of factories working around the clock. But deindustrialization’s running strong in China, too, in cities that were first industrialized just a few decades ago. Like a time warp, Shenzhen and other places have sped through an industrial cycle that took more than a century to complete in Europe and North America.
The Shenzhen Special Economic Zone was China’s first experiment of the type, decreed by Deng Xiaoping in 1980. The former collection of sleepy fishing and farming villages, just north of Hong Kong’s New Territories hit a population of 1 million in 1991, and now counts 14 million. The role played by the city of Shenzhen, which was in the mid 1980s the focus of enormous investments in manufacturing (most of which were made by Hong Kong entrepreneurs, as that city shed its secondary industry), has shifted towards services and distribution. Shenzhen’s now a sprawling complex of offices, shopping, and apartments, punctuated by a series of “high-high-high-end” (to quote some planners) shopping malls and increasingly gigantic central business districts, with nary a factory in sight. So what happened to the industrial areas?
