Many of the discussions regarding the political implications and outcomes of urban planning describe the ways in which urban spaces allow for-- or in some cases curtail-- public life and civil society. In particular, James C. Scott, in his work Seeing Like a State (1998), discusses what he calls "Authoritarian High Modernism" as a form of city planning that intends to make cities more "legible" (or more easily overseen and regulated by the state). Scott argues that since the late 19th or early 20th century, states have undertaken projects to increase the legibility of cities by widening and straightening roads, creating large/open spaces, building structures of uniform height and appearance, and making public spaces that are difficult to use for public association. As an example of the Authoritarian High Modernist city par excellence, Scott points to the Brazilian capital of Brasilia, a city built from scratch in the 1950s. Scott alleges that, unlike Brazil's other major cities (for example, Sao Paulo, Rio de Janiero, etc.), which where built during the era of colonialism, and whose winding alleyway, narrow streets, and non-uniform style of buildings allow for a vibrant street culture, and public life, Brasilia was built to be a city that allowed for only sanctioned forms of public association, tightly overseen by the government. In Brasilia, large open squares and tightly planned city grids prevented the kinds of spaces for organic civic associations found elsewhere. The city itself was designed to be legible.
Why bring this up? Anyone who's visited urban China in the last 10 years, regardless of which city, will confirm that most Chinese cities feature a large, public square at the heart of the city. Take for instance Jinan's Quancheng Square (泉城广场), which lies right at the heart of the city's commercial shopping, and tourist district:
Or, for instance, Xining's Zhongxin Square (中心广场) which bridges the Eastern and Central parts of the city:
Spots like these are common throughout China. Many were built in the early to mid 1990s as China took its first shot at remaking the core of its cities in the wake of the Reform and Opening that had begun in 1978. In many cities I've visited, interviewees have mentioned the building of these large open spaces as one of the more significant changes to the urban landscape over the past 20 years or so. Jinan's square, I'm told, was a large open air market well into the mid 1990s. The change in the function of these public spaces seems to jive with Scott's description of urban renewal as a tool of restructuring state-society relations, and reconfiguring unofficial public life. But, as is often the case in both China, and social science, the story is far more complicated than that.
Indeed, the creation of large public spaces in China has also enable many new forms of public association. Stroll through any of these squares and you'll find that they have effectively become gathering places for all kinds of people to meet and gather. In many cities, the public square serves as a space for in-line skating classes, kite flying, Tai Chi, jazzersize, and a variety of other activities. Primary among these is the phenomenon known as guangchang wu (广场舞), or dancing in the public square. If you've spend long enough in China, you'll undoubtedly know exactly what I'm talking about. Usually guangchang wu involves a number of people (usually retirees) standing in rows and doing a kind of line dancing to blaring Mando-pop music. It's kind of like low intensity aerobics. It's often cited by retirees as a good way to get some physical activity. Usually, guangchang wu looks like it does in this video I took in Yinchuan:
When I've asked interviewees about things that have changed in their city over the last several years, several have offered guangchang wu as an example. Prior to the creation of these large public spaces, it wasn't really possible to gather in a single place and do an activity like guangchang wu. So, the new squares provide an interesting public space for (mostly elderly) people to get together and have some fun while also getting some exercise. Pretty simple story, right? But in Xining there's another interesting dimension going on with guangchang wu, one that involves the performance of ethnic identity.
As I've mentioned before, Xining is a very diverse city, with ethnic minorities comprising almost 40% of its population. Art and culture here often blend a number of different ethno-cultural forms: Chinese, Tibetan, Islamic, Central Asian, Mongolian, etc. It should be no surprise, then, that the predominant form of guangchang wu in Xining is notably different from many other parts of the country. Take a look.
Xining's version of guangchang wu is noticeably influenced by Tibetan culture. This makes sense as Qinghai Province, of which Xining is the capital city, has a large population of Tibetans who refer to the region as Amdo. The music being played in guangchang wu in Xining is Tibetan pop music, sung by Tibetan artists, in the Tibetan language. The motions the dancers go through, in particular the sweeping arm movements, and the twirling in circles are drawn from Tibetan folk dancing. In this sense, guangchang wu in Xining is an activity which engages strongly with local Tibetan culture.
But perhaps most interesting is who is participating in the dancing. Elsewhere in China, guangchang wu is largely for the elderly. An interviewee in Jinan, in trying to verify that I was familiar with the term, described it as "you know, that dancing that old ladies do in the public square." In Xining, however, Tibetan style guangchang wu draw crowds of all ages. Notable in these crowds are the number of young Tibetans that come out to dance. On any given weekend afternoon it's not uncommon to find a large crowd of 20 and 30-somethings, many of them Tibetans, doing guangchang wu in Xining's Zhongxin Square. Amidst this crowd it's also not unusual to find young Tibetans wearing traditional Tibetan costumes (as you can see from the pictures above), or find local monks in their deep crimson robes observing from outside the circle. In Xining, guangchang wu is not just an activity for exercise and social action. It's also the site for engagement with and performance of Tibetan identity, especially for younger Tibetans.
Why bring this up? Much of the literature on the influence of urban renewal points to the ways in which the process can be disruptive of civic association and social life. While this is undoubtedly one of the possible outcomes of urban renewal it should not be taken as the only one. While building a large public square may discourage certain forms of association, it may also encourage others. The popularity of guangchang wu all over the country is testament to that. In the case of Xining, it may be that large public spaces allow for new ways to engage in performing national or ethnic identity, and allow for people (particularly young people) to engage in popular culture while still rooting it in traditional cultural forms. In this way, the boundaries of ethnic identity are maintained and updated in the face of modernization. It's important to recognize these generative practices where they occur, and to note that the effects of modernization and urban renewal are not all one note. Like many of the stories this blog attempts to tell, the outcome of urban renewal is nothing if not nuanced and complex.