WEST LAKE GARDENS, HANGZHOU
Wenhui Daily, March 14, 1962
Garden architecture at the West Lake has long been a requisite theme for local landscape gardeners. On this lake, it is both complex and diverse, and strewn with monumental landmarks and fabulous scenic "sketches." Essayists and poets through the ages, too, have written profusely about it and come up with quite a few immortal works that, one way or another, give wings to imagination and longings.
The West Lake is one of the premier scenic zones in our country, but it is becoming even more beautiful through the diligent labour of so many people. However, she is by no means a new picture drawn on a piece of white paper. She has a history of over a thousand years that, to say the least, dates back to the Tang-Song period, and is still being rebuilt and revised on the basis of what was done by our predecessors. Chinese literature and history archives abound in Tang poems and Song narratives on it. As society develops, the West Lake changes on as well. More discussions about it are necessary because we cherish the hope that she will become still better.
Wang Weilin (1763-1822)1 writes in a poem on overhauling his Literary Garden:
I had flower hedge replaced, stone railing mended,
Alas, it's harder to improve a garden than a rondel;
If I can settle down with every word to be recited,
Even a small pavilion or terrace can stand perusal.
These lines, indeed, pinpoint the bittersweetness in the heart of this garden-maker, a feeling that is comparable to a fish knowing whether the water it drinks is cold or warm. Whether it be a flower hedge or a stone railing, uppermost on our minds is how the West Lake can be ameliorated in the ongoing reconstruction drive, an issue that invariably brings into focus the landscaping style of the gardens on and around the West Lake and calls for contention among a hundred schools of thought. Let me kick off the "contention" by relating a little bit about the lake's scenery.
The West Lake sprawls over the western part of Hangzhou. The present-day Lakeshore Road used to be the city wall in days of yore, so that people on their way to the West Lake must go through the wall's three city gates—the Clean Waves Gate, the Gold-Revealing Gate2 and the Qiantang Gate. The Gold-Revealing Gate is where Xu Xian and White Maiden meet for the first time, according to the folktale "Legend of the White Snake." As the lake is encircled on three sides by mountains, with the city wall on its backside, a visitor standing on this wall can look out in three directions at the southern mountain, the northern mountain, and the western mountain that faces downtown Hangzhou in the distance. The sights observed northward and westward are on the sunny side and therefore more eye-pleasing than those seen southward; this explains why most of the buildings in private gardens face north, such as the Mountain-in-View Lofts and the Lotus-Flower Halls. A building made to face a view of the West Lake ought to be situated on the shady side—a dilemma about directions that has to be manoeuvred with utmost ingenuity if satisfaction is to be met in both respects. Only then can all the "beauty's four elements"3 be procured.
Because the western and northern mountains, the Gushan Mountain included, offer the best views of the West Lake, we should consider if it is feasible to erect buildings of excess heights and allow them to obscure too much of the mountain greenery and scenery in both directions. If the Gushan Mountain, for its small size, were covered all over with buildings, would its own vistas be put upside down? Such is the question I once put before the Tongji University architectural designers working on a library to be set up on the Gushan Mountain. Firstly, if the library were an absolute necessity, it should be handled like a small garden contained in a large one, with its buildings cleverly strewn and concealed behind amidst trees and exotic rockeries—only in this way could architecture and scenery echo each other brilliantly. Secondly, some scenic attractions look their best only if seen in the distance, and a building would come handy for this particular sightseeing purpose. However, this justifies neither a construction spree at the vintage point in question nor the building of a structure to monopolize such a scenic spot. Rather, a building erected for this purpose must be kept at a proper distance from the scenery to be savored, and this is where conceptions for view borrowing or opposite views are needed. If houses were built all over the best part of a scenic belt, not only the belt itself would be ruined, but people staying in them would have no views to feast their eyes on as well. Just as Su Shi (1037-1101) says,
Why can't I see Mount Lushan's true face?
Because I am caught right in its embrace.
Classical verse and prose make frequent mentions of the scenic sights of southern Hangzhou, but in my opinion, the views of the Precious Stone Mountain, the Gushan Mountain and the Memorial Causeway of Bai Juyi up north deserve even more attention.
The landscape of the West Lake is all-encapsulating. There are clear, open water surfaces sparkling like mirrors; sinuous mountain trails now plunging deep into a ravine, now threading their way through an ocean of bamboos; water-side verandahs and storied buildings by the lake; and dwellings tucked away in ravines or nestling against mountain coves. Even vistas of the same kind can look different because of their different whereabouts. It is the rich and varied mountains and waters that make the matchless West Lake Scenic Resort possible and provide landscape gardeners with ample grounds to fall back on when adapting their designs to actual conditions.
Compositions vary with contents and genres that include long essays and short vignettes, but no matter what the content or genre, every composition must be pertinent to its subject matter and methodically written. Qian Yong (1759-1844) says a mouthful as he puts it,
Making a garden is like writing prose or verse;
Every twist and turn must be made judicious.
This line also justifies the requirement for a garden to have a tortuous plan with plenty of changes. The vastly changeable scenery available at the West Lake can be likened to such literary genres as poetry and rhymed prose that offer the needed options for writing a composition—what a landscape gardener needs to do is to come up with well-conceived blueprints and know where to put his finishing touch to make what is better still better.
I feel that arrangements ought to be made painstakingly before we can do something about the West Lake's myriad scenic gems. But most importantly, we have got to seek out all the historical records and literary allusions, so that all-round fieldwork can come under way for us to look here and there and search high and low for a number of vintage sightseeing points. Only after such vintage points are selected can we decide where new buildings can be erected, where viewing facilities can be built without being encumbered by excess buildings, which places are quiet enough for the construction of sanatoriums, and where a cultural recreational center is needed. Everything, however, is contingent on "siting." As a couplet that graces the Belvedere with Windows on All Four Sides on the premises of the Xiling Seal Engravers Society puts it,
Affective is facet after facet,
With water hugging hills that hug water;
Affinitive is heart to heart,
As man inherits the land that inherits him.
This couplet's first line captures exactly the two requirements pivotal to the craft of gardens: "siting" and "view borrowing." I surmise anyone who has been to the Belvedere with Windows on All Four Sides must have been deeply impressed. The Lei's Peak4 Pagoda in the southern mountain area is an important structure designed for view highlighting.
A colossal scenic zone invariably contains views that are either "dormant" or "prominent." The West Lake with its pictureperfect natural environment is no exception, where the lake surface and the surrounding mountains are not only affective in every façade but also captivating wherever they burst upon the eye. Its Cloud-Piercing Twin Peaks seem to be close at hand when observed from afar but disappear into nowhere when seen close at hand; its Taoguang5 Temple and Dragon Well Village offer the best venue to discover narrow footways meandering their way to mystic recesses. These and other clever techniques employed by our forbearers in handling different scenic spots need be inherited and carried forward. To weed through the old and bring forth the new, and to avoid falling into old rut, we still need to take stock of our heritages through thoroughgoing investigations and all-round analyses. Only thus can we be down-to-earth enough when arranging garden views.
In a mammoth scenic zone like the West Lake, architecture and scenery are mutually dependent, with the former playing a major role in the latter. As the saying goes, "Good flowers need a good pavilion or terrace to shine forth." Such a relationship is pronounced in every Chinese garden. Unlike private gardens, the West Lake does not need a legion of pavilions, terraces, lofts and chambers to stand on its own, but it cannot do without such buildings altogether. Different from the traditional gardens of Suzhou and Yangzhou, the West Lake does not flaunt gigantic buildings with flying eaves in the southern Chinese tradition, nor are red chambers under blue-glazed tile roofs congruous to it. What is becoming to it may well be white-washed walls and unadorned tiled roofs that are commonplace in central Zhejiang province, whose simplistic, yet graceful style sets people's minds at peace without fail. Large buildings may need flying eaves, whereas what small ones need are well-arranged yingshan (pitched roofs with two slopes on the front and the rear respectively), xuanshan (yingshan plus two walls up through to the roof on the left and right) or shuiqiangfaqiang (overhang of roof ridges achieved by turning up the four ridge ends instead of the minor hip rafters) roof forms, winding roofed walkways, and halfpavilions. Take, for example, the complex centered on the Buddhist Incense Belvedere in the Summer Palace, Beijing. Its main building features a gigantic roof with glazed tiles, but its secondary halls, chambers and pavilions are all covered with double-eave roofs with gray tiles, which shows that even in feudal society royal buildings were not always treated with the same level of extravagance and pomp. In the vast West Lake scenic zone, buildings should be applied flexibly—they ought to be given prominence in one place, kept in low profile in another, and scattered somewhere else. Before actions are taken, the following question must be answered: which should play the leading role, architecture or scenery? But under all circumstances, architecture and scenery should be made to set off each other in delightful ways. The fact that the buildings at the West Lake have taken on new functions today makes it impossible to emphasize which should come first, content or form, but it prompts us to be mindful of the unity between the two. Fortunately, these questions are not at issue for the West Lake, which has already got everything needed for a mammoth scenic zone—waters and mountains, ravines and peaks, frontal mountains and back hills, among other things. Unity in style throughout the zone, and the salient features of every scenic attraction on its premises can be maintained if the entire zone is clearly and strictly demarcated.
The West Lake has long established itself with its "Ten Sights," but more fabulous sights are needed in the days to come. The "Ten Sights" refer to the best of all views that the West Lake has to offer. Some are seasonal, like "Spring Sets In on Memorial Causeway of Su Shi" and "Autumn Moon over a Calm Lake"; some occur at a particular moment of the day, like "Sunset Beyond the Lei's Peak Pagoda"; some are related to weather, like "Wind-Blown Lotus Flowers at a Winery"6 and "Remnant Snows on a Broken Bridge"; some accentuate mountain views, like "Cloud-Piercing Twin Peaks"; and some are pleasing to one's ears, like "Orioles Singing in Weeping Willows." It is no accidental for these sights, available at different sites and times and in different spaces, to be entrancing and enduring and for their reputation to spread far and wide. Once the secret to such a sight is given away, it becomes the toast of the town in no time, not to mention the fact that no visitor leaves the West Lake without being indelibly impressed. For this reason, I would like to call attention to the need to make every scenic sight look unique or focused on a central theme. A scenic place cannot live up to its reputation if it is not unique enough or overshadowed by secondary things. If, for example, the lotus flowers at the "Wind-Blown Lotus Flowers at a Winery" merely serve ornamental purposes, how can the sight's name make sense? I would like to propose that this complex issue be handled with utmost caution. In other words, our gardens should exude poetic sentiment and picturesque allure, their scenic spots should look at once attached and detached, their mountains should be enshrouded in mist and their waters ethereally misty. The West Lake may be characterized in various ways—as a painting, a poem, an enormous garden, or whatever—it all depends on what point of view one takes.
Trees have a certain role to play in defining a garden's character. I remember reading verse lines that bring into bold relief the landscape of the West Lake,
The lake that sparkles like an emerald,
With green mountains all around,
Willows, six bridges in misty water mingled.
The term "misty water" instantly brings to mind the weeping willows on the West Lake; through it one sees in one's mind's eye their soft twigs swaying to stroke the water surface ever so affectionately. Just like the trees mentioned in such sayings, "The city greened with willows is none other than Yangzhou" and "Weeping willows at the White Gate are dense enough to shield crows," the willows are what the West Lake and the two cities of Yangzhou and Nanjing depend heavily on to be carpeted in emerald. Other trees, like pines for Mount Huangshan and redleaf trees for the Rosy Clouds' Dwelling Mountain, all adequately serve forestation purposes in their respective areas. At the West Lake, however, some other tree species are needed to properly supplement or mix with the willows, but such trees ought to be sensibly selected. Otherwise, the aftermath would be unimaginable.
Just as a painting must have cohesive tone and style, just as an artificial mountain must be built with a cogent texturing pattern, I believe the West Lake scenic zone should be covered mainly with willow trees because they love water and are easy to take care of and most effective in keeping the land green. What is more, the choice of trees must tally with the "personality" of a particular scenic spot. A tree species chosen properly can easily become the landmark of a certain place. Examples of it abounds in Hangzhou, such as the Phoebe nanmu grove at the Taoguang Temple, the bamboos that flank the footpaths at Cloud Dwelling Valley and Dragon Well Village, the sweet-scented osmanthus in the Perfect Enlightenment Gully, and the plum trees at the Gushan Mountain. The combination of principal and subsidiary trees helps improve a place's scenic prospects. The West Lake scenic zone also abounds in camphor trees and bamboos. It takes only a few years for camphor trees to develop canopy-like foliage, whereas bamboos become tall enough to provide cooling shades a year after they are planted, not to mention the fact that both are of considerable economic value. All this is why they are often adopted as the major greeneries for gardens in central Zhejiang. I would like to suggest both camphor trees and bamboos be popularized so that they can become "hallmarks" for gardens all over the province. As to exotic tree species, they can be used with discretion, but we had better keep them in botanical gardens, which is more effective than having them scattered everywhere. The potted dwarf trees I have seen in Zhejiang are richer and more varied than those in Suzhou and Yangzhou. Of all the potted stumps of plum trees, fingered-citrons, and fragrant citron trees in Zhejiang, those crafted by artisans from Jinhua and Lanxi counties are peerless, particularly those having moss-covered branches and jade-like plum flowers, and those with golden fruits hanging down green twigs. These potted dwarf trees are bound to make the West Lake even more enchanting if their local characteristics become even more pronounced.