Advertisement
Advertisement
Being former residential blocks, the PMQ is a complex that is difficult to move around and navigate through. Photo: K. Y. Cheng

PMQ's awkward marriage of old and new beginning to show as buzz fades

Oren Tatcher draws some lessons for future urban renewal and heritage preservation projects

Creativity has a new place", proclaim the signs welcoming visitors to PMQ, the former Police Married Quarters in Sheung Wan recently reborn as a hub for the local creative industry. On display is indeed a lot of local interior design talent, showcased in an impressive line-up of charming and often refined little shops, of the type one finds scattered in trendy parts of Tokyo or dotting the quieter corners of Sheung Wan or Wan Chai.

The shops sparkle against the rather crude architectural environment of the complex, where bare-bones mid-20th-century modernism was redone with cheap finishes, exposed pipes and harsh lighting more appropriate for a toy factory in Dongguan than an urbane cultural hub. Perhaps it was meant as an ironic reminder of just how inhospitable Hong Kong is to culture, or where our goods, no matter how creative, are ultimately made.

The initial buzz, which drew weekend hordes of mostly young locals in its first couple of months of operation, is already beginning to fade. And while it is hard to predict what the place will be like when the dust settles and the last few venues are open, it is useful to draw some lessons given the importance of PMQ as a landmark heritage preservation project and a precursor to several even more ambitious cultural venues, due to launch in the coming years.

Adaptive reuse is a common approach to viable heritage preservation and urban regeneration. Some conversions are straightforward: turning old industrial spaces into art galleries or museums has been done successfully in many places around the world, because the large scale of the spaces is appropriate for both uses. Old office buildings, with relatively small floor plates and plenty of windows, lend themselves to residential conversions. In some places, old churches, with their cavernous and dramatic interiors, are comfortably (if sometimes controversially) reborn as bars and even dance clubs.

Indeed, we have some successful examples of adaptive reuse in Hong Kong, such as Mid-Levels mansions converted to museums, the North Kowloon Magistracy which was turned into a college, and former industrial spaces which are used as artists' studios.

It would have been relatively easy to repurpose the old PMQ blocks in a contemporary residential format, say, as a boutique hotel or, if a cultural agenda is the priority, subsidised artists' residences. But the choice was made to turn it into what is essentially a vertical shopping mall. Now, Hong Kong is full of vertical malls, but the best of them, such as Langham Place, depend on a sophisticated circulation system which supports easy access for visitors and ensures steady foot traffic for retailers.

Alas, PMQ offers no such system. Much of it goes back to its DNA as a residential block, where a typical journey is from entrance to one's flat via a staircase or a lift, supporting none of the random meandering which is the hallmark of successful retail malls. It is not clear how much of that could have been rectified through more creative design, but PMQ as it stands is a complex which is difficult to move around and navigate through.

In one of the most unfortunate design moves, a massive new venue structure bridging the two blocks, which could have helped clarify the circulation system, instead makes the blocks less connected, both visually and physically, while rendering half the courtyard a dark, hostile space.

The mismatch of the original and updated use has other problems. One of the important features of the original PMQ was the open balconies, meant to provide families with a respite from the heat in pre-air-conditioning days. Heritage preservation mandated that the balconies be saved, but for the vast majority of the shops, the only practical use for them is storage. The result is very unsightly piles of boxes marring the restored building façade.

Beyond the specifics, hovering over the entire project are big questions regarding Hong Kong's approach to heritage preservation, urban renewal and cultural development. The heritage value of the PMQ blocks was never very high, but the renovation process unnecessarily compromised some of the best architectural features, such as the courtyard and the open-air corridors.

As an urban renewal project, it suffers from a questionable choice of function, while its success depends on foot and vehicular traffic which could overwhelm the delicate old neighbourhood around it. As a cultural project, it appears to be yet another case of the "build it, label it, and it will happen" approach, a miniature of the West Kowloon problem.

Despite its inherent shortcomings and contradictions, the PMQ project deserves our support as an honest effort to take a different approach to heritage preservation. One hopes that, with a good dash of creativity, the complex will ultimately prove a success.

This article appeared in the South China Morning Post print edition as: PMQ's awkward marriage of old and new beginning to show as buzz fades
Post