Why's there a Paris in Hangzhou? Or a Holland in Shanghai? A new book examines China's copycat architectural movement.
Epcot, Universal City, and Historical Williamsburg are quaint tableaux vivant celebrating romantic fantasy, but they seem even more quaint next to China's massive replications of the world's most iconic buildings and picturesque cities. What began with Shanghai's "One City, Nine Towns" plan—a massive, government-led project to build 10 satellite cities each in the architectural style of a different European country—has become a national pastime. The forthcoming book ORIGINAL COPIES: Architectural Mimicry in Contemporary China by Bianca Bosker takes a close look at Chinese "Duplitecture," examining both the seeming contradictions of the country's copycat communities and the potential for future innovation that they hold.
Bosker's began reporting on these wonders of the modern China when she realized Shanghai wasn't some isolated experiment in imitation, but part of a nationwide movement churning out replicas of the West's greatest architectural hits. "As I began to explore this phenomenon," she says in an email, "I was struck by the disconnect between architecture critics' contemptuous view of these themed developments—which they dismissed as kitschy, inauthentic knock-offs—and the burgeoning demand for them among Chinese homeowners, many of whom had put their life's savings toward buying a house in a faux-Sweden or copycat Orange County. Many Chinese don't just 'put up' with these copycats—they're proud of them."
To understand why, how, and to what end China was appropriating historical Western architecture, Bosker traveled to these themed developments and met with the house-proud people living in them, as well as the architects, officials, developers, designers, real-estate agents, and groundskeepers.
The suburbs are teeming with courthouses and government offices inspired by the White House or U.S. Capitol—two of China's most-frequently copied buildings. Some have been financed by private developers. But the Chinese Communist Party has bankrolled their fair share.
"The state has historically had a fickle relationship with the country's rich and their displays of wealth, and just recently banned advertisements for luxury gifts in an austerity push," Bosker says. "Isolated, distinctive, and lavish, these expansive copycat communities could easily come under attack by officials or China's poor, many of whom have been left behind in China's economic 'miracle.' Perhaps because of these tensions, the 'haves,' in turn, have segregated themselves from the 'have-nots' behind layers of security cameras, guards and gates." (Though, of course, the same could be said of many of America's richest communities.)
Entering these themed cities, Bosker explains, visitors have the feeling of leaving China altogether. In Shanghai's Thames Town, she found the straight streets and hulking high-rises typical of most Chinese developments replaced by meandering paths, cobblestone roads, and squat, low-density brick buildings.
"Honking horns and rumbling trucks gave way to birds chirping and an eerie quiet that's rare in a crowded country of 1.3 billion," Bosker says. 'The careful landscaping—manicured lawns, lots of trees, potted flowers—ensure even the air smelled different. The security staff wore the red uniforms of Buckingham Palace guards; streets had names like 'Chelsea Lane'; and the Chinese eateries were outnumbered by western pubs, wine shops, and cafes. And just like in the West, there was at least one car in every drive."