Walking the lanes of Pingyao at daybreak, before the activity of old residents and newly arrived tourists infuse the town with an energizing hustle and bustle, is like traveling back several centuries in both time and place. There are only a few towns in China that provide the feel for the glories of yesterday, even the distant past, especially with intact gray walls surrounding it and old streets within. Built largely during the seventeenth through nineteenth centuries by merchants and Chinese-style bankers who aspired to a courtly lifestyle, Pingyao over the past century and a half, however, fell into a decrepit backwater status before resurging to prominence in 1997 as a UNESCO World Heritage Site. In less than a decade, some six million visitors are now arriving each year, forcing some to grapple with the unintended consequences of tourism, the negative impact of large numbers of people on a fragile cultural landscape.
Stagnation, more than actual intent, led to the preservation of Pingyao’s network of narrow streets and lanes, along which there are some 3800 Ming-and Qing-era structures, with nearly 500 reasonably intact. Even a cursory glance suggests that most buildings were quite gracious in scale and ornamentation, constructed with substantial quantities of expensive wood, stone, and brick. As the twentieth century neared its end, most dwellings, especially, had fallen into a state of dilapidation. Most were shabby relics of past glory whose current occupants were living under difficult circumstances quite different from the lives of the affluent owners who built and occupied the houses in centuries past.
A look back at the source of the town’s wealth is in order. Situated on a high, rather barren plateau with limited arable land and a dry, harsh climate, Shanxi province always has had a reputation as a difficult place to make a living. However, the location of the province midway between the imperial capitals of Beijing and Xian brought with it relatively easy access to the outside world by way of its north to south flowing rivers and old-style trunk post roads that crisscrossed the region. During the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, especially, Shanxi merchants, called Jin Shang, came to dominate various commodity markets, including dyestuff, salt, iron, cotton, silk, and tea, especially in towns along the border with Russia but also in large cities in coastal China.
Surrounding Pingyao, the battered and crenellated walls, which also include projecting terraces, date from the early Ming dynasty.
With increasing wealth by the beginning of the nineteenth century, the long-distance transport of silver cash loomed as an increasingly important concern. Pingyao merchants, basing their business acumen on the loyalty of kinsmen, introduced “paper notes” called piao that could be redeemed for cash at piao hao or “exchange shops”—in effect, nascent banks and forerunners of a modern finance system— as pay-to-the-bearer certificates. As a result, long-distance remittances were safe, loans could be made, and deposits accumulated by individuals whose lives depended on their mobility.
In Pingyao, all the main piao hao were attached to merchant shops, which were actually sumptuous courtyard structures with both business and living functions. Among the largest was Rishengchang, once merely a dyestuff store, which at its peak had 40 branches throughout China, each staffed by loyal individuals from Pingyao. It is said that by the middle of the nineteenth century, of the 51 traditional banks in China, 43 were owned by Shanxi natives, with those from Pingyao operating 22, all of them benefiting from a close relationship with the Qing imperial court, which also had a need to transfer funds around the country. However, by the later half of the nineteenth century, not only had Western-style banks begun to be established in China’s major cities that siphoned off resources from the traditional piao hao, but the Qing court itself was in rapid decline. By the end of the first decade of the twentieth century, the wealth of Shanxi merchants and “traditional bankers” indeed had evaporated. For the most part, many of these once prosperous businessmen retreated into the seclusion and safety of their magnificent houses in Pingyao, where old houses were left standing without being modernized, even in states of utter disrepair, while, unlike in other Chinese cities, the streets remained unwidened.
Depicted here as a roughly rectangular plan, this late nineteenth-century map of walled Pingyao depicts buildings and walls in elevation view so that they appear to be laying flat.
As with any old Chinese town or city, buildings are low and horizontal.
Some 18.5 meters in height, the imposing Shi Lou or “Market Tower” is located at the center of Pingyao with the major north–south road passing through it.
Perspective view of the Fan family house shows an elongated series of structures surrounding two narrow courtyards.
As depicted in this Qing-dynasty drawing of Pingyao’s principal landmarks, the tall Market Tower structure had adjacent to it the town’s most important well, the “Golden Well.”
Pingyao is said to have “4 avenues, 8 streets, and 72 winding lanes”: the four broad avenues lead to Pingyao’s main gates, each allowing two carriages to pass easily; the narrower eight streets were lined with shops, pawnshops, piao hao, temples, and schools, most of which had residences associated with them; but it was in the quietude of the lanes, each unpaved and only 1.5–2 meters wide, where a distinctive type of quadrangular building was built.
Shanxi-style siheyuan are similar to the classical form found in Beijing in that they, too, express the spatial elements of enclosure, axiality, symmetry, and hierarchy, but in style and ornamentation those of Pingyao are nonetheless strikingly distinctive. The most obvious differences include very high walls all around, an imposing gate at the center of the lane-side exterior wall, elongated narrow courtyards, single-slope inward-facing rooflines on the side or wing structures, with the main structure in the rear having a flat roof and built to look like a series of elegant caves in the countryside.
The Fan residence, situated along South Lane, epitomizes both these similar and diverging features. Sited so that the overall plan of the residence “sits north and faces south,” it includes a pair of nearly equal-sized open courtyards, which are separated from each other by a massive utilitarian structure whose scale exceeds that of other structures in the residence. Both the exterior gate, with its superimposed “hood,” and the gateway leading from the first courtyard to the second are imposing and richly ornamented. Each of the two pairs of wing rooms is three jian in width with very high back walls from which a single sloped roof drops to lower walls fronting the courtyards. Unlike siheyuan dwellings in Beijing, these side buildings do not have columns supporting their extended eaves and thus no apparent verandah. The main structure at the back, called zhengfang, which is five jian wide, was constructed and ornamented so as to emphasize the broader three jian set of rooms.
This rear structure, with its arcuate windows, clearly mimics cave-like dwellings found widely in the loessial rural areas of Shanxi and neighboring provinces. Built in a style known as guyao, each is a set of freestanding structures that imitate subterranean dwellings in terms of the appearance of their façades but also in their overall dimensions and in the use of vaulted arches that carry the weight of a substantial overburden of earth. The end walls serve as piers that help contain the lateral thrust of the interior arches as well as bear the substantial volumes of earth that are piled in the voids above the vaulted structures and which constitute a thick, insulating roof that helps keep the occupants warm in winter.
Passers-by are dwarfed by the imposing doorway and the projection above it that leads into the Fan family quadrangle.
Shown in an elevation drawing, the façade and its entryway are simple and symmetrical in design.
Each of the complementary structures, except for the middle transitional building, is constructed as a three-bay module.
View from the first courtyard through a grand “flowery gate” that leads into the transitional building before opening into the second courtyard. On each side of the doorway is a niche for a Door or Gate God.
Detail of one of a pair of carved stone niches to hold a Door or Gate God.
Once inside the transitional building, it is clear that the passageway mimics the arcuate shape of a cave.
Elevation drawing of the symmetrical main building at the end of the second courtyard.
Detail of the entry to the main building. Framed between a pair of columns, the scene is one of richly ornamented wooden and stone carvings.
The lattice frames comprising the façade of the entryway depict four bats, representing a homophonous relationship with the word for “good fortune,” surrounding an open circle representing “longevity.”
The type of carved figure that once sat upon the top of this stone post is no longer recalled, having been smashed some thirty years ago during the Cultural Revolution.
As visitors pass through the open spaces and encounter the structures alongside them, the Fan residence has the ambience and intimacy of a rural village of subterranean cave-like dwellings even as one is aware of being in a well-structured courtyard with substantial quality workmanship. Windows and doors are made of wooden lattice designs, and carved ornamentation is found on most vertical and horizontal building members. Guyao preserve the positive attributes of cave dwellings while eliminating some of their negative points. In terms of thermal performance, the substantial earth, stone, and brick walls on three sides and on the roof as well as the earth beneath provide excellent insulation from severe cold in winter and heat in summer, at the same time retaining heat generated within during the winter. Moreover, air circulation is typically better within urban siheyuan dwellings of this type than in those built into the earth below ground.
In 1997, the United Nations named Pingyao a World Heritage Site because of its intact wall, street-scapes, and thousands of old buildings, but there is still insufficient money to carry out a full restoration. Suffering from decades of neglect and abuse, once stately residences became dilapidated, all too often stripped of their ornamentation by thieves out to make a little money or sold by families in need of cash. Crowded with its narrow unpaved dusty lanes, lack of plumbing, poor sewage treatment, and other infrastructure accepted elsewhere as essential, Pingyao is not a convenient place to live for many residents. Nonetheless, in half a decade, many residents of Pingyao have come to value their architectural and cultural patrimony and have set out to begin the restoration of the town. Numerous inns, restaurants, and shops have opened in restored old buildings, many of which have updated plumbing, heating, and electricity, and others even have added high-speed Internet connections. Living with the past has not been easy even though visitors find the juxtaposition of old and new rather charming.
Adjacent to the rear building are stairs leading to a flat roof, a space used to catch the breeze in the evening and, perhaps, even provide a cool place to sleep on a sultry summer night.
Yet, even casual visitors notice that all too often conservation work has been rushed and slapdash, with roughly hewn wooden pieces substituting for those that were elegant, and sometimes just a quick paint job instead of sealing old pillars with layers of cloth, horsehair, and then a final coat of lacquer. In trying to balance the needs of preservation with the requirements of modern life, authorities have been attempting since 2002 to move nearly half of the town’s 47,000 population to a new nearby area where government offices, schools, factories, and hospitals already have relocated. Some argue that reducing the resident population to perhaps 25,000 will ravage the vibrant life that makes Pingyao so interesting to visit, while others see the reduction as critical in “saving” the city from erosion from within. Yet, it is the crush of visitors, not the long-suffering residents, who are aggravating long-standing problems relating to sewage and garbage disposal, inadequate electric power supply, and internal transport. Along many of the dusty lanes, block-like structures built during the first fifty years after 1949 are being demolished, leaving in their wake vast vacant spaces that neither invoke the past nor hint of what the future might bring. Some residents want to save at least the façade of their old homes as well as the courtyards within, but lack the resources to modernize the interiors to meet current needs. Few who appreciate old buildings desire to maintain old lifestyles, especially inadequate bathing and cooking facilities. The challenge is to preserve in the process some sense of Pingyao as a living settlement and not simply as a hollow monument. The next five years will likely set the direction for Pingyao. The question as to whether Pingyao and its remarkably intact urban landscape will be overwhelmed by unappreciative visitors who tolerate poor quality restoration or become a model for successful historic preservation is yet to be determined.
Tian Yuan Kui, a Traditional Inn
Along the main street of Pingyao, called Ming-Qing Street because of the predominance of old structures, including an imposing market tower, are a number of the town’s finest kezhan or traditional-style inns. Tian Yuan Kui, one of the first to open in Pingyao, is a unique family-owned kezhan that exudes China’s past although fitted with many modern amenities. Built as an inn during the reign of the Qianlong emperor at the end of eighteenth century, Tian Yuan Kui is at the beginning of the twenty-first century a symbol of reasonably sensitive restoration, and has been joined by scores of other inns.
Along the street, especially after dusk, red candles glisten through the façade. One enters the front door into a large rectangular room with high square tables and benches for eight, the so-called Eight Immortals tables or Baxian zhuo, where both candlelight and the sounds of traditional music change the mood quickly for the visitor. Mr and Mrs Cheng, the resident owners, are always present to welcome visitors, help them choose food, and offer suggestions as to what to see. Throughout the room, traditional arts enhance the atmosphere, such as the lattice windows with red paper cutouts or hanging paintings.
Set for tea and light snacks in the Tian Yuan Kui inn, this Eight Immortals table or Baxian zhuo provides bench seating for eight.
Just outside the back of the main room is an L-shaped narrow courtyard with a spirit wall and rustic seating for tea. Each of the generous rooms is fitted with a traditional-style brick bed, called a kang, which once was connected to a stove in order to be warmed by radiant heat. Today, each bed is piled high with soft comforters and pillows and heat comes from pipes through which circulating hot water moves. A bathroom, shower, and air conditioning provide services needed by many urban visitors for their comfort. Several inns of this type are spread throughout Pingyao, with most being smaller and simpler. A few larger hotels have been opened to accommodate those wanting more amenities.
Behind the large room fronting the street is an L-shaped narrow courtyard with a screen wall and rustic seating, a place to relax and have tea. Emblazoned on the wall is the character fu, meaning “good fortune.”
Window ornaments include red papercuts depicting pairs of “joy bringing magpies,” a “doubled happiness” character, and five plum blossoms that represent the “five good fortunes.”Together they represent an especially felicitous wish for a newly married couple enjoying their wedding banquet.