The Rising Dragon: Design in China

Paul Doherty contributes the following guest blog. Paul is senior vice president of Screampoint, which provides governments, multinationals, and large real estate portfolio companies with visual solutions to manage and maintain their assets.

I am enjoying my adopted home country of the People’s Republic of China. I have settled into having a wonderful family, a growing business, and a feeling that the future is very bright. You take a keen interest in design when you make a place home. Just ask any residential designer about their clients’ interest level of every detail of their home.

I live and work in Shanghai in an area called the French Concession. Shanghai has been a city constantly shaped by its foreign trade, foreign invasions, and foreign occupation. You can see the influence of each era in the different parts of the city: the Bund, the German Concession, the English Concession, the French Concession. Thus, I live in an area that could be picked up and placed in the middle of Paris and not miss a beat.

But what makes a city is not just the vocabulary and context of its buildings. It lies in its smells, sounds and people. What makes Shanghai so wonderful is the variety of its smells, sounds, people … and its neighborhoods that make you feel as if you are in a different city by entering any one of them.

Shanghai is hosting the World’s Expo at the moment. Seventy million people have been to this city already to experience the Expo, with two more months to go. The showcasing of the world’s cultures, foods, and design are making this year’s Expo one of the best. The astonishing architecture and design of the numerous pavilions alone is worth the trip. But with the exposure to the world’s designs at the Expo — and understanding that Shanghai has a past that is shaped by outside design influences and architecture — a sensitive question is beginning to emerge in the design community of Shanghai and throughout China: What is modern Chinese design?

My personal view is that the Chinese are struggling with finding their own design vocabulary when it concerns buildings and the context of urban design. The majority of building design for large-scale development is coming from Western-based design firms. This has created a disturbing array of geometric shapes throughout cities like Shanghai that have not created a design movement, trend, or vernacular that can say to the world, This is a Chinese building.

One trend that is emerging is a movement toward historic preservation, seen in developments like Xintiandi, Tian Xi Fang, and the new Sinan Mansions. Taking its cue from the past, the rehabilitation of older Chinese structures and repositioning them for modern functions has rekindled an interest in older Chinese design forms, culture, and meaning. This combination of learning from the past to define the future could be giving rise to a new generation of Chinese designers who will define this century’s design in China.

One can only hope that in their home, a true design emerges that helps better define a city, a culture, and its people.

Iceberg Logic

Like buildings, icebergs come in all shapes and sizes. They can be beautiful and also a little mysterious. On average, only about 12 percent of an iceberg’s volume sits above the water line. What’s visible is quite small compared to the whole. The part that really matters, the part that provides buoyancy, is hidden from view, though we can sense its presence.

This is not a bad analogy for how design is often perceived. Architects tend to focus most on form and aesthetics — what you see is what you get. But a building is so much more than that. It’s impossible to tell just by looking at a building what it cost to construct or how much it takes to operate or how efficient it might be in terms of space utilization. Unlike cars, buildings don’t come with dashboards that provide real-time feedback about speed, fuel consumption, oil pressure, and so forth. But perhaps they should.

Studies have shown that over a building’s useful life, the original capital cost accounts for only about 12 percent of the total — just like an iceberg. The true cost (and the real value proposition) lies below the waterline  — out of sight and out of mind. It’s territory worth exploring.

Capital cost matters a great deal, of course, because it’s most often the gating issue that determines whether or not a project gets built in the first place. But it’s only a small part of the overall picture and, considered by itself, tells us relatively little. Capital expenditure reflects market dynamics at a given point in time. The cost of labor and materials can vary significantly over a relatively short period. To be meaningful, first cost must be measured against something. When considering the location, size, and program of a building, savvy owners understand that it’s not what you spend up front, it’s what you get back that counts. That’s why building lots in prime locations cost more and why zoning regulations matter so much. The largest possible structure built on the best available site will naturally generate the most cash flow and hence create the highest value. It will also consume more energy to operate and cost more in staffing, taxes, and maintenance. All these factors and more go into calculating the underlying value stream of a project. And it’s this underlying value — the part below the waterline — that provides the buoyancy needed to float the project.

Design matters, and of course this includes form, function, and aesthetics. But there’s more to it than that. For too many years, true value creation has not been part of the design dialogue between owners and architects. Remember that design can be both a verb and a noun — a process as well as a thing. The how is often just as powerful as the what. Great designers are always on the lookout for hidden meanings and new ways to inject something extra into the equation. For example:

• For a new office building, an architect managed to design a floor plate that was 90 percent efficient compared to the expected 84 percent, delivering more useful area (and resulting revenue) per square foot.
• For a new dormitory, an architect managed to include one additional floor while still respecting the height limit imposed by zoning. This created space for 50 additional beds, making it possible to finance the project.
• For a new hospital, design for nursing unit that required fewer staff to run efficiently saved $1 million in staffing and operational costs annually while still improving overall outcomes for patients.
• For a new hotel, compelling design helped raise the average occupancy from the normal 75 percent to nearly 85 percent. This increased sales in the restaurant, lobby bar, and shops.
• For a multi-tenant research lab, sophisticated metering systems allowed the tenants to monitor their individual energy use, saving more than 10 percent each year.

You get the idea. These are all real stories from real projects that have won multiple design awards. They were successful in unexpected ways because the design teams took pains to truly understand the owner’s underlying value proposition and roll it into their design approach. By considering all these factors, they were able to create more thoughtful, sophisticated solutions.

The lesson is clear: Focusing only on form, function, and aesthetics is forgetting the 88 percent of the iceberg that sits below the waterline. Ignore it at your peril.

New Book by Richard Saul Wurman

Wow — what a day yesterday! Richard Saul Wurman was in the office for a work session on his newest book. Tentatively titled “33: Understanding Change by Changing & the Change in Our Understanding,” it’s a dynamic, multilayered presentation of conundrums and opportunities we face in the modern world. Architecture, design, science, health care, technology, and connectedness are themes that weave throughout.

The inner core of the book is Wurman’s “What-If, Could-Be: An Historical Fable of the Future,” a charming and challenging self-published fable that was distributed at the 1976 AIA Convention, which he chaired (and which is still discussed in many circles for its game-changing formula and out-of-the-box format).

Working with Wurman is an exercise in flexibility. He’s off and running the minute he enters the room, and you just have to try to keep up. It’s an energizing, elevating, creative, and confusing experience. Can’t wait for more.