The shophouse
The house the tradition built when it went to the coast and the colonies, a lot five metres wide and thirty deep with a shop at the street and the family behind and above; the five-foot way, the air well and the sequence of rooms along one axis, which is the courtyard house stood on end; how the manuals read a house with no sides; what the section does for the air, measured; and what a household living over a shop today takes from it.
Oriented NE 039°
Earth
The houses essay gives the four types the manuals were written for, and this one gives the type they met when the tradition went south and abroad: the shophouse, a lot five metres wide and thirty deep, shop at the street, family behind and above, party walls on both sides and light only from the two ends and from the well cut through the middle. It was built from Guangzhou and Xiamen to Penang, Singapore, Bangkok and Saigon for two centuries, and a household in any of those cities, or in a European high street with a flat over a shop, is living in its descendant. This essay gives the type in plan and section, the way the manuals read a house that has no sides, what the air well does that the engineers later measured, and what a household living over a shop now takes from a form the tradition already solved.
A house stood on end
- 1The five-foot way: the arcade under the upper storey, a public path along the whole street
- 2The shop: open to the street by day, shuttered at night, the counter on the party wall
- 3The air well: the sky-well of the south, light and air to the middle of a deep lot, rain to a drain
- 4The hall: the altar on the back wall of the first court, the family’s rooms above by the stair
- 5The kitchen and the back court: the stove at the rear, the well or tap, the back lane for the night soil
- 6The party walls: shared with the neighbours on both sides, the lot lit only from its two ends and the well
The shophouse is the courtyard house turned end-on and pressed between neighbours, and the plan above is best read from the street inward, as the tradition read every house. The five-foot way comes first: an arcade under the upper storey, running the length of the street, which Raffles’s town plan for Singapore required in 1822 and every Straits city copied, and which Knapp reads as a hall of arrival shared by the whole row, the entrance of every shop at once, shaded, dry and public. The shop is behind it, open to the street by day through folding shutters and closed at night, with the counter on the party wall so that the shopkeeper, as the workplaces guide asks of every till, sees the door; the shop guide reads that room on its own, since the shophouse’s front room is the shop the commercial manuals had in mind. Then the air well, which is the sky-well of the southern house made narrow: an opening the width of the lot, unroofed, with a drain in its floor, which brings light and air to the middle of a house that can have no windows in its sides. The hall is behind it, with the altar on its back wall and the stair to the family’s rooms rising from it, which is the hall of honour of the compound with the household gods in their place; a second well and the kitchen follow, the stove at the back where the fire is farthest from the stock and nearest the water; and the back court opens to the lane that the night-soil carts used before the sewers came. Knapp’s survey of the Chinese houses of South-East Asia and Davison’s of the Singapore type record the sequence in house after house, with the wells sometimes one and sometimes three, the shop sometimes a workshop or a clan hall, and the family’s rooms always above and behind, never beside, since beside was the neighbour.
The section, and the air
The section is where the type explains itself, and the drawing above cuts one lengthways. The upper storey jetties out over the five-foot way, so that the arcade is roofed by the family’s rooms and the shop stands under them in the deepest shade of the lot. The air well is the section’s point. Warm air in the shop and the hall rises through the opening in the roof and draws the street’s air in under the shutters and along the floor, so that a house with no side windows breathes from end to end all day; the rain falls through the same opening into the drain, and the light falls with it onto the hall and the altar. It is a stack ventilator with a garden in it, and the engineers who measured the type in Singapore and Penang found the air moving through the wells at a steady walking pace on still days, which is what the air guide’s figures ask for and what a sealed flat with a window on one side cannot do. The households that roofed their wells over for floor space in the twentieth century, which Davison records street by street, are the ones that bought the air conditioners first. The tradition called the well the sky-well and read the rain that fell into it as wealth returning to the hall, which the houses essay gives for the Huizhou type; the shophouse kept the reading and the drain, and the site’s reading is that the two are one fact, since a house that keeps its water and its air keeps its people.
Living over the shop, now
The shophouse’s descendants are everywhere, and most of them have lost the well: a flat over a shop in a European high street, a studio behind a café, a workshop with a mezzanine to sleep on, a shop in a converted terrace with the family in the back. What the type gives such a household is a sequence, and the sequence is the tradition’s. The shop is the entrance and the yang end, public, lit, facing the street; the family’s rooms are the yin end, behind and above, and the tradition’s rule that the two do not share a door survives as the rule that the household should not walk through its shop to bed, which a side passage or the stair from the back gives. The hall between the two, where the shophouse kept its altar and its stair, is the living room of the flat, and it is the room the command position essay furnishes: a wall behind the main seat, the two doors, the one from the shop and the one to the stair, both in view. The kitchen stays at the back, which the kitchen page asks for the stove for its own reasons, and the back door stays a door and not a wall, because the section’s air needs the far end open. Where the well is gone, the light comes from the two ends only, and the windows guide’s rule is the shophouse’s: no room in the middle of the plan should be a bedroom, and a middle room with no window is the store, the bathroom or the stair. A household that keeps the shop in front, the sleep at the back and above, the hall between them with its seat in command, the stove at the rear and the two doors open to each other has the shophouse whether or not anyone built it one, and the site’s reading is that the type is the tradition’s most complete answer to the narrow lot, arrived at without a manual by people who had read the manuals for the courtyard and could not afford the courtyard.
The shophouse, in order
- The five-foot way. The shared arcade: the entrance of every shop at once, shaded and public.
- The shop. Open to the street by day, the counter on the party wall, the till seeing the door.
- The well. Unroofed, drained, the light and the air of the middle of the lot; never covered.
- The hall. The altar on the back wall, the stair rising from it, the main seat with the two doors in view.
- The kitchen and the back court. The stove at the rear, the back door kept a door.
- Nothing in a line. Street door, well, hall door and back door offset, so that the lot is not a through-house.
- Over a shop today. Sleep behind and above, a stair that does not cross the counter, the two ends open to each other by day and shut by night.