Paju Bookcity is an extreme exercise in focus. Single-minded urbanism. (Thanks, Beau, for inspiring this post)
"The City to Recover the Lost Humanity": The idea of Paju Bookcity started germinating in 1988. A group of publishers bemoaning the state of publishing and distribution in Korea. Fast-forward to now - the region is almost complete with several sub-communities, including Heyri (a community of artists where live-work lofts are coupled with galleries and cafes). The architecture is stunning - a combination of the best Korea has to offer as well as recognizable, international names.
An inspiring demonstration of what optimistic design thinking can accomplish, at the scale of the city. The only downside of the story here, truly, is the manifestation of the English Village. Whereas the rest of Paju walks a fine line between theme park and authentic, artfully executed whimsy with ease, the English Village falls off the tight rope and flat on its face. Right onto an oversized Stonehenge.
So what happened here? Here's a hypothesis – the rest of Paju was designed, mostly, by its founders and inhabitants. Paju was planned, designed and built for Korean creatives who share a foundation of david-vs-goliath, optimistic, slightly Marxist values (semantics about individual sacrifice and common good abound). Design for us by us. The English Village, however, was designed for THEM, by us. And it shows. Rather than capturing the spirit behind "a semester abroad" (this village hopes to capture the experience of korean students studying abroad, immersed in the English language, for those who can't afford the luxury), it tries to duplicate an English Village. Down to the last stone. Henge.
How might the English Village be reimagined if it followed the logic of the rest of this ambitious development? What does design "for us by us" mean as an approach to urban planning?
Much Love.
-jones
Posted by: jones | May 11, 2009 at 10:16 PM
A really interesting post and question. I think your basic hypothesis is correct that the Village is more designed "for them, by us", but I guess I wonder the ultimate role or context for this "place" is as well - is it an entertainment destination meant for more transient visits (ala disney/vegas/theme parks) or as a place to live in and experience a foreign culture or nostalgic era?
Most of us "designer-types" dislike these theme-park-esque places due to their lack of authenticity and so on, but they do fulfill a need for escape and fantasy for many people (I guess i'm saying they're OK in small doses and/or short visits). But if the real goal is to capture the experience of studying abroad for those that can't afford it, for me it begs the question of what role the built environment really needs to play at all? Aren't there other ways to achieve this? It seems almost impossible to avoid a trap of being kitsch or "the simulacra" when working at this scale. How important is the symbol in creating (or re-creating) an experience?
The answer to your question might lay within the process itself. If design "for us, by us" is truly participatory and collaborative throughout, maybe the urban planning process can serve as a platform for this kind of expression and create a broad scale learning environment. But yep - Stonehenge is definitely a bit over the top for me too.
Posted by: mark buchalter | May 12, 2009 at 02:58 PM