The city is riddled with en bloc fever and we are no strangers to the tides of change. Loss is inexorable, the reprobate sibling to transformation. And as the image of the city manifests in a plethora of physical transmutations all across the landscape, artefacts and unique spaces begin to adopt new meanings and values in the face of change.
In Singapore, the term 'en bloc sale'; refers to the collective sale of a development to a single common buyer, and is often conditioned by an agreement to sell among the majority of unit owners in that development. Beyond the glut of reportage on the en bloc phenomenon—mostly filed under the hard-nosed 'Business'; section of The Straits Times—lies a resistance against the rampant turnover of the land. Architects, conservationists, and heritage activists alike have taken critical action to petition for the conservation of buildings from post-independence Singapore such as Pearl Bank Apartments, Golden Mile Complex, and People’s Park Complex—visionary buildings exemplary of the government’s urban renewal strategy during the nation-building era. Notwithstanding the arguments for conservation, the fate of these buildings remain imperilled with the prospect of demolition. At present, the Urban Redevelopment Authority (URA) has placed Golden Mile Complex under conservation study, having recognised its heritage value.
Following this, a possible mandate for the preservation of the main building may be established, should it be sold to a buyer during its en bloc sale, but the true and final fate of the building remains a mere speculation. Amidst this fog of uncertainty we ask: how should we determine whether something should be preserved?
The image of Singapore city has transformed into an interesting panorama of architecture from time past and present. The Housing Development Board’s (HDB) public housing estates took over land where kampungs and vernacular buildings from the 19th century to the pre-war period once sat. Old buildings and shophouses within the well-conserved historic quarters have been repurposed, and their facades now enclose the contemporary heartbeat of the city: quaint cafes and yoga studios enveloped in the aesthetics of nostalgia. But what should be compromised between the integrity of a building’s heritage and the need to rebuild, to reconstruct, to demolish? Is it enough to simply retain a façade? How will the state begin to recognise what makes a work of architecture, post-independence or contemporary, worth conserving?
To deepen the inquiry, we spoke to Darren Soh, architectural photographer and sociologist-by-training, and Edward Wong, Managing Director of Alfred Wong Partnership (AWP), to investigate Singapore’s terrain of loss, change, and transformation through the lens of heritage activism and architectural practice.
How would you describe the current state of architecture in Singapore? How has it changed over the years?
EDWARD WONG
Managing Director, AWP Architects
Looking back, the early architects were trained overseas and came more or less together with independence. There was no school of architecture in Singapore then, so the first batch of architects were first trained in polytechnics. Because we were coming out of the war years, we (the first few batches of architects) had the very strong belief that we should do the most with the least. We wanted to push the boundaries, to design buildings that are efficient, use the least amount of material, and in the best possible way that is environmentally suitable to the context of the location. Early architects really believed in that because this was the period of the architectural revolution, of leaving behind the old movements and styles like the classical and gothic, to name a few. Architecture built in those movements and styles required a lot of manpower in their construction, as those monuments were often highly decorative and not so functional.
The modern revolution was to make it functional. After the war there was so much shortage, so the widely-held belief was to push the boundaries to give the best amount of building for the resources that we had. But now things have changed because we are in the consumer age. A lot of unnecessary buildings are being done, although in Singapore we are constrained by things like efficiency, Gross Floor Area (GFA), and so forth.
You can say architecture is sculpture in the sky, but at the end of the day, it is actually about creating shelter and space for people. Strangely enough, we’re getting to a stage where the HDB has much better quality housing than the private sector. At the moment the government is driving a number of issues. One is to strangle the number of foreign workers coming in. They would pay almost any price to do that, together with the use of PBVC: prefabricated volumetric construction. It means designing buildings as though they are containers that you pile on top of one another. This is pre-finished in the factory so you can do it in a comfortable environment with better control, proper lighting, and so on so that you can do better quality work. Of course there is a huge amount of standardisation and modular construction. This is an attempt to do without the foreign workers and try to mechanise as much as possible. It has its limitations—these units have to be transported by road so there's a dimensional restriction on the boxes for transportation. It is a costly method of doing things. And of course this also means that the buildings are done under manufacturing methods, which is supposed to increase efficiency but there is a cost to be paid for that. Architecture becomes restricted and constrained, since you can only design the boxes to pile up in a certain way.
DARREN SOH
Photographer
I’m not sure I’m in a position to comment on the “current state of architecture” since I am neither an architect nor a developer or planner. What I can say is that Singapore’s built landscape is in a perpetual state of growth and change, with new buildings sprouting up all the time and many older buildings being demolished for this growth and change. Taking this as a starting point, I would then have to say that architects have numerous opportunities to create and (to a much lesser extent) conserve and restore structures. From the very beginning of modern Singapore in the 19th century, we have had a mix of both local and foreign designed buildings built in Singapore, and this is still the case today. However, I would say that Singapore isn’t a country that places great value on historical architecture with many many buildings already demolished to make way for newer ones.
Let’s discuss one of the first architectural touchstones in local history, the National Theatre. The closure of the Theatre in 1986 to make way for the construction of the Central Expressway (CTE) is a nascent example of pragmatic trends in urban redevelopment plans—arguably, patterns of utilitarian jurisdiction that privilege progress over the preservation of architectural heritage and national identity. What are your thoughts on the demolition of this important piece of cultural history and its consequences?
EW: It is very sad because the National Theatre was a people's theatre. It was built by people's money. People actually bought bricks to build that building. It was done at a time when the Singapore government was very frugal because we were newly independent. We had no resources. There was the question of whether Singapore could survive at all. In those beginning years things were really tough. When Alfred [HK Wong, founder of AWP] won the competition for the National Theatre, the budget was a magical one million dollars, very limited funds.
Alfred came up with a very beautiful design: the five diamonds, which stands for the different communities which I thought was a wonderful idea. [Former Prime Minister] Lee Kuan Yew had very ambitious ideas for that theatre because it was his launching pad for a Malaysian Malaysia, although I don't think that it was ever stated as such. The theatre was built with 3500 seats under cover. The amphitheatre was on the slope of King George's Park at the back, and the idea was that total seating capacity could be 7000, like an open-air Hollywood Bowl. We had a very good engineer design the cantilevered structure. It was a steel structure that had to be a welded structure in order to provide that kind of span; you couldn’t use bolts and nuts. When the theatre opened many fantastic shows were held. A Moscow ballet came. The African ballet was a very memorable show I watched. The stage was at least 60 feet wide, and we had these wonderful dancers using the whole stage. It also had a revolving stage so you could change the scenery. It was very successful.
I thought that even if they had demolished the theatre they could have left the five diamonds standing. The architect and historian Lai Chee Kien did a small replica at Tank Road; that could have been retained as part of the park.
DS: If you are referring to social architecture of any kind that spoke to the people in general, the National Library at Stamford Road would have been a far worthier candidate. It was built in 1960, and up till today, almost everyone who has ever walked its corridors is still lamenting its loss.
The demolition of the Theatre in 1986 and then the Library in 2004 sent a message that there was no room for nostalgia in the public consciousness as dictated by the state. At least, nothing changed in between 1986 and 2004. Our government has always been a pragmatic one as you say, and it continues to be so. However, we live in a different world today as compared to even 2004 where the public isn’t afraid of speaking out, at least on social media. Social media has also enabled and empowered lobby groups to rally together. A very tangible result of this is the announcement that six blocks in Dakota Crescent would be conserved despite the government stating earlier that all the former SIT flats there would have to be demolished for redevelopment.
How do we cope with the notion that eradication and change is necessary in the name of progress?
EW: I think we always build on the past. We advance based on knowledge of the past. The thing is that we are destroying currently-usable buildings for financial gain. And if we are talking about ourselves as a green country, it is the most un-green thing to do because we are destroying valuable assets, only to create worse assets. Developers are taking larger old properties and demolishing them and building tiny little properties—shoebox houses—and smaller and smaller flats, which are not conducive to bringing up a family for example. So what is the advantage? They are not that serviceable because of the lack of space. More important is the fact that we are destroying valuable assets. For the same GFA, we are rebuilding to make smaller units so we are using more resources to build things. Where is it going to end? After you’ve done the en bloc and you've got these small units, what is the next thing that will happen? Is the future going to be even smaller? Or will small become obsolete and you have to make it bigger? One possibility would be that there could be a reversal of the situation where you have obsolete buildings that are too small to be useful. Then are you going to knock them down, break down the walls, and enlarge the units or amalgamate? Where is the end point in this whole exercise? I wish the government would clamp down on it because I think it is absolutely wrong. We do have land, so why not use the land instead? The fact of the matter is that we have land—go for high plot ratio by all means—that's a better solution than breaking down old buildings.
DS: At least in ways that are sensible and equally pragmatic. We (architects, historians, lobby groups, members of the public) have started a conversation of late about trying to save what few modern icons we have left. We have already lost Pearl Bank, but hopefully her demise will not be in vain. The URA’s announcement that any redevelopment plans for Golden Mile Complex must include conservation of the existing building is a big bold step in an encouraging direction by the state, and while things are still up in the air, at least we can feel the breeze of change. It is not yet a wind, but Rome wasn’t built in a day, to use a clichéd construction analogy.
What are some of the opportunities and challenges architects and urban planners face today?
EW: Projects are becoming of a larger and larger scale. In that way it is challenging. At the same time it means that it is a struggle for smaller firms. There is a belief that size matters now; you have all kinds of firms buying all kinds of smaller firms to make themselves big. But big is not necessarily good. We are quite contented in the way that we practice because all our directors are active in the firm and we love our work and that's why we continue with it. We try to keep ahead of the times. We have been expanding overseas: we have a practice in China and are doing work in Vietnam, Cambodia, and Indonesia. We need to go beyond our borders, that's for sure. There is a time span in which Singapore is still a leading light. We are the leading light in China but China will soon overtake us. It is astounding; Tsinghua University has got one million people applying to do architecture. So you can just imagine the cream of the crop that we will get from China. Now we have a window of opportunity in that we are still ahead of countries immediately around us.
DS: Singapore is nothing but a place of opportunity for architects since there is so much building going on at any point in time. I think the real challenge is to design a building that can stand the test of time in all ways—both in function, durability and also aesthetically. These will help safeguard a building built today against potential redevelopment in the medium term. For urban planners I think the challenge is really one of balance. How do you balance conservation and development yet ensure there is enough liveable space for the millions of people?
Architecture often lends itself to the purposes of defining the image of a country as it responds to the needs and wants of a people. “Nation-building” and “cultural heritage” are now terms inextricably associated with contemporary discourse on the state of modern architecture in Singapore. To what extent should we hold buildings to the aggregates and standards of these terms?
EW: I would say if it comes, it comes. It has to come naturally because we are a global city, a first world country; we're not a third world country. We don't use local materials since we don't produce local materials to begin with. I don't think we need to create an identity.
We are at the crossroads of culture. Do we need to create a Singaporean identity? What is the Singaporean identity to begin with? I have no reason to think that we need to create our own architecture. Architecture comes from itself; it is related to climatic conditions and the materials the country has. For example, the Swedish use a lot of softwoods, which translates to a certain design style. I marvel at the mud buildings in the Middle East. The mud buildings are so much in harmony with the landscape because they are made of material directly from the earth. The architecture comes up beautifully, naturally. It fits what they need because they need thick walls to keep the heat out and keep the interior cool. But we are nowhere near that; we are a global city. We are coming from nowhere and we have influences from everywhere. And we have the most up-to-date techniques of construction today. We should design according to the climate, to the context of where we are, to the least of our end uses.
DS: I am all for it. Buildings are nothing but a result of the times they find themselves built in. And over time, they of course get inextricably entangled with the era from which they hail, which is perfectly understandable. I always tell people that in order to chart our path towards the future, we need to remember where we came from and this is no mean feat for a country that is constantly trying to reinvent itself.
Facade of Golden Mile Tower and Golden Mile Complex.
How should we determine what we keep from the past? Is it possible for the old and new to coexist?
EW: So long as buildings are structurally sound, they can always be adapted for current use. Why should we be demolishing buildings? How much did the government spend to convert the Supreme Court and City Hall into what it is today? They went to extreme lengths. Those are old buildings, but they dug into the ground and created basements to make them useful. It can be done because we have the technology to do whatever we want. we can prop up a building that is falling down. We can do all kinds of things. There's no limit to what we can do. So “adapt and reuse” will be my cry for old buildings. It is also more green. I don't understand why we are preaching green all the time but we allow our developers to knock down buildings. Give them more land to build! It is ridiculous to tear down buildings just to rebuild. We have a history of these buildings beginning from when we grew from independence in frugal times to where we are today. Look at the government buildings—they are ridiculous, they are marble palaces, so different compared to when the People's Action Party (PAP) first started—the Ministry of National Development was in two housing board flats in Hong Lim Green. That was how frugal we were. But now we are almost going overboard.
DS: Very clinically, there are sets of standards by which historians quantitatively measure the historical qualities of a building. They are boring and unemotional but they do provide a benchmark. Qualitatively, I would say that when it comes to public spaces and structures that have over the years been imbued with layers upon layers of social meaning by its users throughout multiple generations, destroying them would scar the nation and its people. Take the library as a good example. If it could have be re-programmed for some other use and still have a recognisable form left, the public at large can still physically enjoy the space for generations to come.
Of course it is possible for the old and new to coexist. I have a very good example. Havelock Square.
Havelock Square is the home to the former Ministry of Labour building built in the 1930s that is today’s Family Justice Courts. This building is a designated national monument. Right next to it is the octagonal-shaped former Subordinate Courts building designed in distinct modern style by Kumpulan Akitek (incidentally one of only fewer than 20 modern structures to have been accorded with conservation status) and completed in 1975. Right next to these two buildings is the soon to be completed State Courts Tower. When the Tower is completed at the end of this year, there will be three buildings spanning nearly a hundred years between them occupying a very small space.