Tony Watkins

When a Westerner appeared for breakfast dressed in a traditional Chinese blue suit, the Chengdu locals were totally mystified. Why should anyone want to look just like millions of other Chinese?

    
It seemed perfectly normal however, at least to the Chengdu locals, that young Chinese should want to dress in western jeans, T shirts, and Reebok shoes. To them this clothing was symbolic of their aspiration to western values such as freedom and liberty. They had no way of knowing that not all westerners dress like this, and could not comprehend the New Zealand experience of being refused entry to the bar at the Auckland International Airport, and even the Regent Hotel, for wearing jeans, a T shirt, and Reebok shoes.     

Their perception of western dress was as inaccurate as their perception of western values. How could they know, that when Bob Jones is talking about freedom, he is really talking about freedom for Bob Jones, which is not the same as talking about a society which is based on the concept of freedom for all.
    
There is no essential connection between symbol and reality. There is no essential connection between perception and meaning.

It is, of course rather chic for a westerner to appear for breakfast in New York, or even a lecture in New Zealand, dressed in a Chinese blue suit. It means that you know about things Chinese, and gives the hint that you have been there recently.

The reality in China is that it is not as easy to buy a traditional suit as a westerner might imagine.
Even the market in Chengdu has only elegant upmarket editions, as there is clearly no demand, in the market, for the traditional product.
    
The lack of demand in New Zealand for vernacular New Zealand architecture is no different from the lack of demand in China for vernacular Chinese architecture. At least it would seem so, talking to the people who are the architectural experts in either China or New Zealand. Fortunately the ignoranti are never far away from the cognoscenti, and it is possible while travelling in China to be on the trip while seeming to be on another.

How can you explain the difference between inner freedom, and external freedom? The attempts by bureaucrats, politicians, economists and experts to impose their values in China is not so different from similar attempts in New Zealand. Any visitor returning from China is constantly asked whether they were free to do what they wanted to do, or were they restricted to only what the Chinese wanted to show them. The questioners never seem to notice that their own vision in New Zealand is totally distorted by advertising, fashion, forecasts, or manipulated "news".     

Travelling with New Zealanders in China highlights the ability developed by those who climb our mountains, or explore our wilderness, to see much more than they are being shown. it is part of our culture to have enough humour to be able to step outside ourselves to see ourselves more clearly.     

At the entry to the valley of the Ming tombs there is an adobe village which is as fine as anything else in the valley. Technically it makes the adobe of America look as though it was built by affiateurs. You will see no erosion in China brought about by rising salt. That problem was solved so long ago that no one seems to remember when it was. The Chinese who learn English seem to also unlearn any understanding of adobe and how rising salt is concentrated by evaporation. It is much more difficult to have a conversation in China about adobe than it is to have a conversation about recent style changes in Reebok shoes.

Perhaps it is just as well. Four million tourists go through this village every year, but fortunately their buses never stop. If they did this village would be lost forever. By its very sensitivity, vernacular design is vulnerable and easily destroyed. As it is, it remains to delight visiting New Zealanders who run a couple of kilometres back from the tourist bus stop, between the tourist market place and the tourist "Spirit Way".

The Wolong Valley is a useful area in which to begin to understand Chinese painting, or Chinese gardens. They seem unreal until you actually see the reality. The Wolong is a useful area to begin to look at architecture too. The ritual of building still remains. The shrine is built in as the walls go up, and is blessed and in use long before the roof goes on. The door lintel is decorated as it is built into place. Entry rituals are important for builders as well as other occupants.     

Vernacular architecture belongs. It does not have meaning forced upon it. Rather it is a source which enables us to access the meaning of any particular place. Chinese blue suits are everywhere, but the meaning of the suits is as diverse as the people wearing them. The meaning, in fact, changes as often as westerners change their suits. Indeed meaning in blue suits is just like meaning in architecture.

Projected meaning is not the same as perceived meaning. Meaning is not culturally transferable. Neither is architecture.

Published in Home & Building February/March 1990 p147