Revitalizing Tanjong Pagar: Culture as Currency in Shaping a Historic District
Theme/Concept: Cultural Heritage, Context, and Social unity
Design Concept Statement
Italo Calvino once described cities as layered with invisible structures—complex networks shaped not just by architecture and infrastructure, but by stories, traditions, and lived experiences. In the context of Singapore, a city shaped by state-planned efficiency and global ambition, this project proposes a new typology—one that bridges macro-scale urban development with the nuanced, intimate lives of its people. As a foreigner observing this landscape, I saw not only skyscrapers and conserved facades, but the invisible rhythms of multicultural coexistence that too often remain unspoken in the built environment.
The foundation of this proposal lies in Singapore’s multi-ethnic composition: 75% Chinese, 15% Malay, and 9% Indian. This diverse cultural makeup is not merely demographic—it is a living archive of traditions, rituals, and festivals that define the nation’s identity. The project introduces a “city machine” a dynamic, adaptive structure that serves as an urban platform for year-round cultural engagement. It allows different ethnic groups to celebrate their festivals simultaneously in a shared space, breaking the pattern of isolated celebrations. Outside of major events, the space remains activated with pottery and dyeing workshops, language classes, and citizen-led initiatives—ensuring that cultural exchange becomes part of daily urban life, not just ceremonial occasions.
The selected site, Tanjong Pagar, is a district of contrasts. It is home to the tallest skyscraper in Singapore—Tanjong Pagar Centre—and yet retains historic shophouses along Tras Street, forming a dense urban fabric rich in architectural and cultural variety. This juxtaposition of vertical growth and low rise heritage encapsulates the broader tension in Singapore’s urbanism: a push for modernization that often sidelines the everyday, informal life of its people. In the back alleys of Tanjong Pagar, migrant workers have built temporary, soft shelters—subtle, adaptive interventions within the city’s rigid framework. These informal structures became a key inspiration in imagining an architecture that is responsive, flexible, and inclusive.
The urban analysis identifies three key anchor points: the former Metropole Cinema (now a church), a narrow alley framed by conserved shophouses, and the underutilized Yanki Playfield. Once vital community spaces, these sites have lost their civic relevance due to gentrification and the rise of high density housing. Though the city has preserved the physical image of heritage, it has failed to regenerate the social and cultural vibrancy that once animated these spaces. This project seeks to re-engage those who live and work in the area through an architectural intervention that doesn’t overwrite history, but gently overlays it—embedding contemporary uses above, within, and around the historic fabric.
Drawing inspiration from Archigram’s “event city,” the proposal features an immersive architectural installation: a temporary but catalytic structure designed for performative, educational, and interactive use. This event machine is modular and reconfigurable—encouraging ongoing reinterpretation by its users. It brings together residents, workers, and visitors, fostering multicultural collaboration through shared experience and layered programming. Through sustainable materials and modular systems, the structure promotes environmental responsibility while supporting spontaneous human interaction.
At the core of the project is the church—a spatially and symbolically potent structure that has long remained physically closed-off from the surrounding community. Three new pathways are introduced, transforming its typology from a singular, enclosed space to an open, multi-directional hub. These paths represent immersive journeys through different cultural narratives, linking the church to surrounding public life and reflecting Singapore’s spiritual and cultural plurality.
Scattered across the district, a network of small “voids” is introduced—intimate sanctuaries for reflection, rest, and reconnection. These spatial pauses are intentionally quiet, designed not as spectacles but as thoughtful interludes in the urban sequence. Each void houses culturally specific elements—lanterns, embedded screens, or small installations—that share stories of Singapore’s diverse communities. These micro-interventions help reconnect individuals with place, memory, and identity while humanizing the city’s fast-paced environment.
Fundamentally, this project sees architecture as an act of contextual revelation—a medium through which the stories, needs, and aspirations of communities can be honored and expressed. Amid rapid urban development, there is a growing urgency to rethink heritage not as static preservation but as a living process. By creating spaces that embrace multiplicity, change, and shared authorship, the proposal seeks to transform Tanjong Pagar into a vibrant cultural commons—where history meets innovation, and diversity becomes the driving force of design.












Today, it seems a liberal and democratic society in Taiwan, but is it true?
Entering the Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Hall park, various everyday sounds reach our ears. However, these daily activities seem to be subject to invisible constraints, blocked from the Democracy Boulevard and only exist within the walls and gardens around the park. Are we still unconsciously bound by the authority of space?
The dead silence of Democracy Boulevard is in sharp contrast to the daily noise around it. The authority and monumentality in the space seem to have never disappeared. On this seemingly empty and peaceful avenue, many major events in the democratic process have occurred, witnessing the transformation of the Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Park from an authoritarian space only for commemoration into an important distribution center that can accommodate various activities and the people during the Anti-Japanese War. If sound is a representation of life, then the disappearance of sound implies death. The Democracy Boulevard where so many great events took place in the past are completely muted now, and the important moments that once took place are fading away. So in this memorial place, What else can we commemorate?
The sounds in the park vary in content depending on the era and background. When these historical slices are reproduced and re-superimposed in this field through sound, voices from different eras begin to create opportunities for dialogue. Guided by sound, you will roam in the space following the sound you want to hear, but you will also encounter other sounds along the way. While recording the various events that happened here, it also brings back the lost voices of the past to this site.
Try to imagine that in the dark space, the song in memory of Chiang Kai-shek slowly spreads. Walking along the long corridor, maybe at a corner you will hear countless young people shouting "Abolish the National Assembly". At the same time, the news of Chiang Kai-shek's death was also heard in the distance. After walking a few steps, you suddenly heard the laughing of children. What appeared after the sudden gunshot was a blank light box, a free space left for future sounds. The voices of people sitting on the grass penetrated to the Chiang Kai-shek bronze statue hall on the fourth floor. At this time, the turned statue also changed from a person in power giving orders to a listener.
History should not be forgotten. The value of the Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Park is not only to commemorate authoritarianism, but also not just to provide a place for daily activities of citizens. It carries the common memory of the Taiwanese people from the authoritarian past to the democracy of today. Perhaps we are at a junction of forgetfulness. If these sounds are forgotten, the remaining daily life will return this place to the original state of only one sound. Without the reference of the voices of the past, people will have no way of knowing how valuable freedom is today. If every era has a representative voice, then being filled with multiple voices at the same time is definitely a reflection of this era of peaceful dialogue. Thankfully, we can read history from a more comprehensive perspective today. While people find their own opinions on history, they may also understand that history is not as good or as bad as we believe. The history of the past, whether good or bad, is the nourishment that creates today. Only by understanding this can we truly let go of hatred and embrace the past.



















In the face of the epidemic, there have been many changes and uncertainties in public relations, and many disturbances have arisen in society, causing people to feel anxious. In fact, it is not just the epidemic, but the society, politics, and economy we are in. Various types of negative news and events that have emerged in recent years, such as the ongoing Russia-Ukraine war for almost a year, the collapse of cryptocurrency and stock markets, deeply affect the public and make people feel breathless.
The life we long for and aspire to is often the most ordinary, stable, and comfortable environment, just like air, sunlight, and water. Freedom and security are also part of it. We may not feel them when we have them, but we feel immense pain when they are taken away from us. This design for the daily life of the Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Hall area is centred around the return to normalcy. This site has great potential. It can be a city living room that welcomes everyone. People can gather, engage in activities, and share in this multifunctional space. Vibrant colours can encourage natural communication and bring smiles to people's faces. Currently, this land is used by the general public and tourists from all over the world, without a strong purpose. In the future, it is expected to be the same. After the epidemic, this site can be a place of rebirth, leading people to a more colourful and vibrant future.
This design focuses on the urban environment and user comfort. In response to the severe heat island effect in Taipei during the summer, this site serves as an important turning point in addressing this problem. By incorporating urban sunlight, solar radiation analysis, and wind flow analysis, the central plaza of the park is transformed. A multi-level green belt space is proposed to alleviate high temperatures during the day and create multi-level open landscape spaces. At the same time, the volumetric development also echoes to some extent people's aspirations and expectations for a better life.
















