Mayfly Architecture

Author: Deng Kunyan / Country:
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2006-07-01
Features: The wedding pavilion, also known as the elegant Qinglu, is a type of temporary structure specifically built for joyous occasions. Before the Sui and Tang dynasties, it was recorded as early as the Warring States period, with the betrothal ceremony of newlyweds taking place within the Qinglu, a tent-like structure made of cloth. The ancient poem "The Peacock Flying to the Southeast" by the Old Music Bureau states, "The oxen and horses neigh, the new wife enters the Qinglu." In modern times, the custom of building wedding pavilions was primarily popular in the northern regions. The families getting married would hire professional pavilion builders to construct temporary halls using materials such as bamboo, wood, reed mats, colorful fabrics, and hemp ropes. From a distance, the pavilions appeared complete with gabled roofs, painted beams, and pillars. The railings, courtyards, corner clouds, windows, and hanging screens inside were all brightly painted, creating a vivid and festive atmosphere. Other elements like the flower walls and pillars inside were also meticulously designed. The wedding pavilion had to be set up the night before the wedding, primarily to host a banquet for relatives and friends, hence its alternative name, "the wine pavilion." Tang Dynasty author Duan Chengshi noted in his "Youyang Zazu, Volume on Ritual Differences": "In the wedding customs of the Northern Dynasties, a black cloth tent was used as a house, both inside and outside the gate, called the Qinglu, where the betrothal ceremony took place." This custom of marrying in the Qinglu continued until the Qing Dynasty, as evidenced by multiple mentions in Pu Songling's "Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio." In modern times, while it is difficult to find a large enough space to set up a Qinglu, it is no longer necessary, as grand hotels can now create elegant and traditional designs. Red bride, red bride, the image of the red bride flashed into my mind at the wedding ceremony.
The Hong family, makers of "International Brand" electrical appliances, was getting married and asked me to return to Taipei to help design and create their wedding. Since my base of operations had moved to Shanghai, I had to be selective about my work in Taipei in recent years. The Hong family has made immeasurable contributions to Taiwan's home appliance and electronics industry, and the cultural foundation established by its founder, Hong Jianquan, has also devoted significant resources to Taiwan's literary and arts community. They are a highly respected and prosperous enterprise, and with the help of Ms. Jianhui Jian, a close friend of the Hong family, I was asked to assist with the wedding. Although my work in Shanghai was extremely busy, and wedding design was relatively minor compared to architecture or interior design, it was still a major event for the Hong family, and I believed I had the capability to make it a success. After careful consideration, I reluctantly agreed.
The wedding banquet was held in the large banquet hall on the second floor of the Lai Lai Hotel in Taipei, which could accommodate over 100 tables. This had always been a venue I thought was difficult to design, as its decor was nearly 20 years old and lacked freshness from an architectural perspective. The space itself was not ideal, and initially, I was reluctant to take on the project, fearing I might disappoint the hosts and damage my own reputation. However, there were no other suitable banquet halls in Taipei that could accommodate such a large number of tables. With no other options, I had to proceed.
At first, I was overwhelmed, thinking, "How am I supposed to handle this?" The typical working hours for setting up a wedding venue were only a few hours, and with such an unappealing and challenging space, I felt I had no chance. After several site inspections, I grew more anxious. Unless I could magically make the space disappear, I wouldn’t dare to take on this outdated venue. Moreover, the hosts had traveled all the way from Shanghai with high expectations, and if I failed to deliver something extraordinary, it would be a disservice to their trust.
Ah, yes, magic—just make the space disappear! If I could magically make the unattractive "Lai Lai" banquet hall vanish, I could do as I pleased. That was it! I decided to use my usual method of reverse thinking, turning the seemingly unworkable flaws into advantages. If it was ugly, just make it invisible, don’t show it, and it won’t be a problem, right? It was simple. This decision brought me clarity and excitement.
However, thinking was one thing, but execution was another. The limited working hours made material selection and construction methods extremely challenging. Although I was an experienced designer and capable executor, every detail I decided on had to be feasible for both myself and the team. The difficulty was that we had no second chances, so I was constantly on edge, worried about the hosts’ opinions and the potential for my vision to be disrupted. Over the years, I had always feared too many opinions from clients in Taipei, but this time, both the Hong family and the newlyweds were surprisingly accepting of my ideas. Of course, I couldn’t help but wonder if it was because of my reputation or the fact that I had returned all the way from Shanghai to help, making them reluctant to offer feedback. So, during our discussions, I repeatedly assured them that any opinions were welcome in advance. This was their wedding, after all, and they should have their own visions and ideas. Otherwise, if the final result didn’t meet their expectations, it would be a disaster. The more the hosts had no objections, the more I feared for them.
P12-15