Flow Year 2 - The Vanishing Alley

Author: Qiu Yang
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2006-08-01
Features: The changes in Beijing have indeed exceeded people's imagination. In just a few months or even days, coordinates on the map could vanish, turning into dust on construction sites. This ancient city is filled with new things, obscuring its original appearance. The feeling of hutongs, siheyuan, and narrow alleyways of ordinary households seemed like yesterday, yet many memories of revisiting the past have lost their tangible reality.
Half a year has passed since the publication of the first issue of the "Flow of Time" thematic series, "Ancient City, Unforgettable Memorial." Our editorial has been well-received by many readers who love Beijing. However, as this was our first attempt at such a topic, there were bound to be omissions and regrets. The second issue of "Flow of Time," titled "Imperial Capital, Fading Ancient Charm," serves as a supplement and refinement to the first. We strive to tell and the fragments of this millennium-old city through more vivid topics.
Facing the large-scale demolition and construction of the city, we hope to document the views within our reach today—even if they are mere fragments of physical remnants or the vanishing local customs carried by the environment. In the first issue, we included an article with photos of Zhuita Hutong from over a year ago. At that time, the western entrance of Zhuita Hutong had just begun to be demolished, with ruins scattered everywhere. Recently, upon revisiting Zhuita, we found that the western half of the hutong had completely disappeared, with demolition extending from the western entrance, Ren'en Hutong, all the way to Lu Xun's former residence. Fortunately, Lu Xun's former residence has not yet been demolished, but Zhang Henshu's former residence to its west has been lost forever.
Zhuita Hutong and nearby Fengsheng Hutong, Wuding Hutong, and others are among Beijing's oldest hutongs. Zhuita Hutong itself dates back to the Yuan Dynasty, having accompanied the city's urban journey. However, this area is now fragmented, with many exquisite grand mansions demolished and only isolated concrete structures remaining, devoid of historical context. History, after all, cannot be repeated.
Today, authentic elements in Beijing are becoming increasingly rare. Walking on the streets, whether towering buildings or wide avenues, all seem familiar. Uniformity has become the city's mainstream, crude designs replacing cultural continuity, and the warm, simple beauty can only be found in old photographs. In recent years, Beijing has lost too much of its tradition—hutongs have been demolished one after another, and fake antiques have been built in their place. Su'anbo is gone, the Flower Market is gone, South Xiaojie is gone, and Meishijie is gone. The rough Yongding Gate has been rebuilt, and an awkward Zhengyang Bridge archway has been erected.
Recently, there were reports that the former residence of Cao Xueqin, which was demolished years ago during the construction of the Liangmaqiao-Wudaokou Avenue, would be rebuilt. Back then, many calls to preserve the authentic site went unanswered, yet now the government plans to spend public funds to build a fake antique. The right and wrong of this are clear. In these demolitions and constructions, Beijing's culture is gradually becoming blurred, to the point where walking down a wide street, I sometimes ask myself, "Is this Beijing?"
Beijing should not be just about imperial grandeur; it should more embody the spirit of the common people, filled with the memories and legends of ordinary folk. The "Flow of Time" aims to as closely as possible restore history to the people, using a series of engaging articles to and touch upon Beijing.
The words about the ancient city of Beijing in this issue come to a temporary end. Starting with the next issue, we will explore new topics. We hope our words can leave behind some genuine records and lasting memories for this city. "Flow of Time" will always carry a sense of responsibility—to bring the people the greatest possible truth.