Selected News Articles New Khmer Architecture of Cambodia
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Selected News Articles New Khmer Architecture of Cambodia The City He Built The New York Times Magazine, May 15, 2005 Building Phnom Penh: an Angkorian heritage The International Herald Tribune, March 27, 2007 Reminiscing Past Achievements The Sangkum Reastr Niyum Building Designs Olympic Stadium From Ambitious 1960s Icon to Playground of the People The Cambodian Daily, October 31, 2007 Celebrating the past The Phnom Penh Post, April 3, 2008 Traditional Knowledge key to Cambodia’s built future The Phnom Penh Post, December 31, 2008 Reimagining Cambodia The Phnom Penh Post, August 18, 2009 Modern Masterpieces The Wall Street Journal, May 28, 2010 Bon voyage or déjà vu? The Phnom Penh Post, November 7, 2013 Vann Molyvann: the unsung hero of Phnom Penh architecture South China Morning Post, February 9, 2014 Is Phnom Penh Losing its Luster under Rapid Urbanization? In Asia / The Asia Foundation, February 18, 2015 Building a legacy The Phnom Penh Post, July 11, 2015 The New York Times Magazine May 15, 2005 The City He Built By Matt Steinglass It is hard to imagine a crueler fate for an urban planner than seeing his country taken over by a regime with a murderous hatred of cities. As Cambodia's pre-eminent architect and chief urban planner during the 1960's, Vann Molyvann laid out significant portions of Phnom Penh and designed dozens of landmark structures fusing High Modernist design with classical Khmer elements, including the Corbusier- influenced Independence Monument, the stacked-block minimalist Front du Bassac housing development and the National Sports Complex. Then, in 1975, the Khmer Rouge marched into the capital and evacuated its entire population. They used the stadium for political meetings and mass rallies. In the southern port of Sihanoukville, they tried to blow up Vann's National Bank of Cambodia building (having abolished money) but gave up when the vaults proved too strong. "They took Cambodia from a country in the process of development to a communal society without the slightest vestige of the modern or the urban," says Vann, who is now 79. Today, having weathered invasion by Vietnam, decades of civil war and a U.N.-run transition period, Cambodia has settled into a relatively stable, corrupt quasi-democracy, dominated by the ex-communist Cambodian People's Party. Foreign aid has fueled a measure of economic growth. And Vann's legacy now faces a new menace: development. Indeed, ill-conceived development may do more harm to his structures than the Khmer Rouge ever did. "The buildings survived being abandoned better than they've survived being misused," says Helen Grant Ross, a Phnom Penh-based architect and an advocate for the preservation of Vann's work. In the most egregious case, the government awarded a contract for the renovation of Vann's stadium complex to a Taiwan-based real-estate firm that threw up a clump of charmless low-rise retail and office buildings on its grounds. These filled in the network of pools that Vann had designed, like the moats around the ancient temples of Angkor Wat, to absorb monsoon-season rains. "Now the streets next to the stadium are constantly flooding," Vann says ruefully. Meanwhile, part of the Front du Bassac housing complex has deteriorated into a slum, while the rest was transformed by a recent renovation into a dull, suburban-looking box. Next door, the 1968 Preah Suramarit Theater, an elegant brick-and-concrete wedge with angular staircases cantilevered over an interior reflecting pool, was gutted by fire in 1994. In February, the telecom magnate Kith Meng reportedly agreed to reconstruct the theater in exchange for construction rights on the surrounding land, but some fear a repeat of the sports-stadium fiasco. Asked how he feels about the plight of his buildings, Vann responds with a 20-minute soliloquy. (Among the first Cambodians to graduate from college, Vann attended École Nationale Supérieure des Beaux-Arts and École du Louvre in Paris, and retains the French intellectual's verbal athleticism.) He depicts his buildings' travails as part of a more general urban crisis: a "guerre foncière," or "real-estate war," with roots in the 1979 takeover of the country by the Vietnamese and their Cambodian allies. "They consider the property that they acquired after their entry into Cambodia as war booty," Vann explains. One of the seized houses was Vann's own, an airy multilevel villa that he designed and built in 1969 -- just a year before a U.S.-backed coup escalated Cambodia's civil war. Vann fled the country in 1971 and soon after settled with his wife and children in his wife's native Switzerland. He spent much of the next two decades working on the development of third-world housing for the U.N. When he returned to Cambodia in 1991, he found his villa serving, of all things, as the office of the national land-registration administration. "It was completely neglected," he says, "in a shocking state." He applied to the government to have his house returned. Amazingly, it was. Vann spent the 90's as head of Apsara, an independent government authority created to safeguard the temples of Angkor Wat. By authoring a zoning plan that kept big hotels outside the borders of the ancient temple complexes, he was instrumental in preserving the area's authenticity and nurturing its tourism industry. Eventually the C.P.P. pushed him out of Apsara: he was deemed insufficiently friendly to development. Not all of Vann's buildings are threatened. His fan-shaped Chaktomuk Conference Hall and his State Palace building are mainstays of Phnom Penh's public architecture. The low-cost private houses he built in the west of the city are very much lived-in. In Sihanoukville, the showcase factory he designed for the SKD brewery is still churning out bottles, and the National Bank of Cambodia building is once again taking deposits. The Institute of Foreign Languages in Phnom Penh is in full use, though construction nearby will partly hide his original design from the street. Vann is concerned less about the fate of his buildings than about the neglect of Phnom Penh's infrastructure. The city has a precarious relationship with water: each summer, the combination of monsoon rains and melting snow flowing down the Mekong from the Himalayas floods the farmland surrounding the city and causes the Tonle Sap River to reverse direction. The government has failed to build dikes to keep up with the city's expansion, while shortsighted development is filling in the lakes and canals designed to channel floodwaters. A particularly heavy flood year, Vann fears, could prove disastrous. It is one of the standard critiques of the Modernists of Vann's generation that their grandiose designs crushed the street-level urban fabric and ignored environmental sustainability. Vann's case stands this critique on its head. His 1960's vision for Phnom Penh epitomizes the grandiose optimism of "la Ville Radieuse," the French version of midcentury utopian urbanism. Yet it was Vann's city plan that paid exquisite attention to Phnom Penh's environmental concerns and urban fabric, while the privatization and decentralization of the last 15 years threaten to scar the city's landmarks and wreak havoc with its water management. One of Vann's admirers told me that it would serve the government right if there was a major flood. When I clumsily repeated the wisecrack to Vann, he didn't find it funny. "Three hundred thousand people would lose their homes," he said soberly. "You can't imagine what could happen here." Matt Steinglass writes for the Boston Globe, the Nation and other publications. He lives in Hanoi. http://www.nytimes.com/2005/05/15/magazine/the-city-he-built.html The International Herald Tribune March 27, 2007 Building Phnom Penh: An Angkorian heritage By Robert Turnbull PHNOM PENH — Many Asian cities have laid claim to the title of "Paris of the East." During the 1930s, Phnom Penh's candidature was supported by no less a luminary than Charlie Chaplin, who described its orderly, tree-lined avenues as "little sisters" to the Champs-Elysées. But today's visitors to Cambodia are surprised to discover that the true architectural legacy of this former French protectorate is not colonial at all, but a unique synthesis of postwar European modernism and what might be called "Angkorian vernacular." "New Khmer Architecture" emerged from Cambodia's 15 years of prosperity following the end of French rule in 1953. The euphoria of independence spawned an entire school of designers and architects who, rather than replicate international styles, chose to reinterpret them according to a set of local conditions, foremost among them flooding and hot temperatures. It was a kind of Asian Bauhaus in that its members worked concurrently and in a similar style. The movement's influence was short-lived: few of its architects survived the Khmer Rouge. However, Vann Molyvann, the leader and most prolific member of the group, remains, at 80, an enterprising and respected figure, even if his work has yet to acquire the protection it so patently deserves. The first Cambodian architect to be trained in Europe - at Paris's Ecole nationale supérieure des beaux- arts - Vann returned to Cambodia in 1956. Introduced to the left-leaning King Norodom Sihanouk, the two spearheaded a campaign of urban development and construction that transformed Phnom Penh from a sleepy colonial backwater to a vibrant, ambitious capital. From universities to sports facilities, the architect and his royal mentor created more than a hundred public projects throughout Cambodia, using funds from the Chinese, Russian and French governments as well as "nonaligned" states during the decade and a half before Cambodia was dragged into a regional war with the United States.