Reflective Urbanisms:

Mapping New York Chinatown

They could not have been more generous and trusting with this amazing trove of architectural drawings, photos, letters, newspaper clipping and other items that documented Lee’s remarkable and unique transnational career. They shipped the archive to MOCA for me to use to curate the exhibition, which I built almost entirely on the contents of the archive. They then generously donated the archive to MOCA, and many researchers have now been able to access it, expanding the understanding of Lee’s work. The exhibition, Chinese Style: Rediscovering the Architecture of Poy Gum Lee (1900-1968) opened at MOCA in September 2015.

+ What have you found in your research is the most interesting, or most impactful chapter of the building’s past life? In your opinion, what are the most noteworthy or interesting architectural features of the building?
For me, the expression of Chinese identity in the built environment, whether a modest balcony modification to approximate a shophouse gallery or a full-blown Chinese roof, reflect larger themes of the Chinese and Chinese American experience in New York and in the US in general. How the built environment informed outsider perceptions of Chinese, and how the spaces sheltered and enabled the Chinese American community (its politics, society, culture and economy) to develop demonstrates how the buildings served as a material strategy for an outsider immigrant group to negotiate acceptance in a very racist country.

+ What do you believe is the importance / impact of these buildings being constructed by these associations, by these members and residents of the Chinatown community? What are your fondest memories of this building?
As white, non-Chinese speaking woman, I am an unlikely historian of Chinatown. Conducting research into buildings owned by Chinatown’s traditional, patriarchal associations, access and trust has been a challenge. I have focused on the empirical record (building permits, the physical buildings, and the larger historical themes), and have made every effort to gain trust by sharing my findings freely with anyone interested, and trying to contribute to knowledge and understanding of Chinatown as a built environment. I have made some great connections with elders in the community, including Eric Ng, who in turn connected me to others who were willing to share (and sometimes not, but it’s always worth trying!). Through collaboration with organizations like MOCA in 2015 for the Lee exhibition and most recently Think!Chinatown, where I have served on the board for the past few years, I am able to share my research but also gain a cultural competency that enables me not only to be a better researcher, but to direct my research to inform current issues in Chinatown, for example the debates around 70 Mulberry, the former P.S. 23, which burned on the eve of the Lunar New Year in January 2020. The ensuing discussion illuminated the role of historic buildings and the larger built environment in the economic, social and cultural future of Chinatown. 

+ How do you think Chinatown has changed over the past century (architecturally, culturally or as a community)?
One of the most cited academics writing about Chinatown, the geographer Kay Anderson, describes Chinatown as an “idea” – it is a racial construct formed by the encounter of Chinese and a dominant white society, albeit one with distinctly physical dimensions. From its very beginning in the 1870s, Chinatown has served as a cultural home (but not necessarily the physical home) for members of the Chinese diaspora in the New York region. Its architecture still largely reflects the late nineteenth century streetscapes in place when the Chinese arrived, with the steady accrual of modern storefronts, signage and even a few new buildings. The use of overtly Chinese architectural signifiers has ebbed and flowed over the years, reflecting the changing status of the Chinese in America, changes in architectural taste, and the changing nature of the Chinatown economy. Chinese America is diverse (economically, geographically, socially, culturally), especially in the wake of the 1965 Immigration & Nationality Act. There is no unified or singular expression of Chinese identity in the built environment; this is especially true in New York Chinatown, where streetscapes have been increasingly marked by an informalism that reflects the transition from a tourist economy to an enclave economy that serve the needs of the diasporic Chinese and really the pan-Asian diaspora for goods and services.

As with most immigrant enclaves, historically, the goal for the subsequent generations is to move beyond the immigrant neighborhood and assimilate into the American middle and upper classes. The reclaiming of Chinatown by younger generations who are taking on family businesses, investing time and energy into community building, working to protect affordable housing and small businesses, and fighting back against the stereotypes that are still perpetuated, further demonstrates the shift from tourist Chinatown toward a multigenerational community. That being said, gentrification nibbles away at Chinatown—or authentrification, think of the artists and galleries and restaurants moving in and using Chinese signage or other winking references to signify what they no doubt feel is a transgressive move into an exotic locale. This is the same “thrill” sought by the white slummers of a century ago who came to Chinatown in tourist busses to see people dressed up like hatchet men and opium smokers. In a recent New York Times puff piece, the white fashion and furniture designer owners of the bar du jour that just opened on Bayard Street even make reference to the alleged “secrets” of Chinatown. So as far as Chinatown has come, it remains, in the words of folklorist Winston Kyan, “American’s preferred destination ghetto.” Physically, socially and economically it is constantly changing, but the general American (mis)understanding of it remains, sadly, the same.