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Beijing’s modern urban develop- ment has seen the best of times and the strangest of times. For a period during the thirteenth century， the city was so magnificent that it awed the well-traveled Marco Polo. Several centuries later， as the city continues its role as a powerhouse driving Asia’s largest economy， it is experiencing rather curious changes bewildering even the most knowledgeable urban scholars.
While many major cities in the western hemisphere have been slashing budgets in recent years， Beijing has maintained a prolonged construction spree. High-rise apart- ments， office complexes， sports venues， and art and performance centers are sprouting up across the city. The sheer volume of new buildings is unprecedented in global history of urban development. Even more impressive than the quantity， the frenzy has shaken the city’s fundamental building philosophy and priorities to their core. Chinese culture celebrates conformity， order， and consistency. This basic philosophy is illustrated by siheyuan residences （quadrangle courtyards） lining hutongs （narrow alleys） in Beijing’s old districts. Like the blocks of a printing press， each siheyuan resembles its neighbors in color， form， and scale， as if they value being inconspicuous. This monotony was disturbed to some extent by the rapid development that started in the early 1980s. Increasing demand for residential， commercial， and civil space spawned many modern buildings and skyscrapers. However， even though some of these buildings contrast single-story siheyuan houses and low rises that used to define the city’s landscape， few appear bold enough to challenge conventional perceptions about building style. Much like their predecessors， they were designed to fit into the overall scheme of the existing structural environment.
Over the past few years， however， a new trend seems to have taken over， rendering the city’s old building philosophy of “fitting in” obsolete. Architectural style and design priorities have undergone a dramatic shift during this period. Developers are no longer satisfied with buildings that merely function well and conform to the surrounding environment. Rather， motivated by a desire to showcase their unique taste， deep pockets， and above all， irrepressible ambition， they began to value designs that would allow buildings to not only stand out among their peers but also push the boundaries of structural engineering， if not human imagination altogether. Consequently， architectural designs that would have been deemed too radical and impractical for any other time or place have been greeted with open arms by the capital of the world’s second largest economy. Perhaps the nicknames of some of the highestprofile buildings constructed during this period offer a glimpse into their idiosyncratic nature： The Bird’s Nest （National Stadium）， the Giant Egg （National Center for the Performing Arts）， and of course， the Big Pants （CCTV Headquarters） have become household names for area residents since the buildings were completed. These structures are far from brainchildren of novice architects trying to make a name for themselves. As a matter of fact， the masterminds behind these bizarre designs compose a veritable murderer’s row of the world’s most renowned architects. Rem Koolhaas， Norman Foster， Paul Andreu， Jacques Herzog， to name a few， have all left their marks on the city’s landscape. In fact， some have suggested that the cityscape has become experimental grounds for celebrity architects. Recently the city lost one of its most celebrated and faithful experimenters with the passing of Zaha Hadid.
The emerging term “starchitect” was perfectly personified by Hadid. The famed Iraqi-British architect， dubbed the Lady Gaga of architecture， was recognized as much for her celebrity as her designs. In addition to her architecture， wardrobe and accessories， her fans and critics extensively discussed the places she frequented. She was named one of Time magazine’s 100 most influential people in 2010， a recognition rarely given to people of her occupation. In China， news about Ms. Hadid’s passing widely circulated through the country’s social media shortly after her death. No other architect has been treated with such curiosity and attention in recent memory. Her celebrity status is perhaps the best testament to her achievements as an architect.
Hadid was known for her futuristic and nontraditional design. The often aweinspiring features and thought-provoking concepts of her designs helped her， in 2004， become the first woman to win the Pritzker Architecture Prize， architecture’s highest honor. Despite her accomplishments， Hadid’s designs have also been magnets for controversy and criticism. The Al-Wakrah stadium， the main venue for the 2022 FIFA World Cup in Qatar， has been mocked for its resemblance to female genitalia. Her design for Japan’s National Stadium for the 2020 Summer Olympics inspired jeers for its disregard of scale and was eventually scrapped by the Japanese government in favor of a more financially feasible plan （construction costs for Hadid’s design was estimated at a whopping $2 billion）. Her plans even proved too much for some in Beijing.
The Galaxy （Yin He） SOHO in Beijing’s CBD has stirred controversy ever since its completion in 2012. The towers in the building complex have been ridiculed for a resemblance to grave mounds. Furthermore， a local heritage group denounced the building for violating the city’s historical preservation regulations and voiced criticism for its disruption of the historical landscape in its vicinity. The complex’s horizontally stretched curving lines， beehive-shaped towers， and enormous volume even make the neighboring glazed skyscrapers characterized by angular corners and sharp edges look old-fashioned. Simply put， the building is perceived as out of place.
A quick glance at Hadid’s past projects shows that “fitting in” is far from her top design priority， although the profiles on her company’s website suggest otherwise. In fact， it would be strange if Hadid’s designs felt “in place”. With work similar to another student of the visionary， Rem Koolhaas， the mastermind behind the Big Pants， and a taste for Russian abstract painter Kazimir Malevich， Zaha Hadid seemed destined for unconventional style in her design. In her Pritzker acceptance speech， she acknowledged that she felt limited by poverty of the traditional systems of architecture and was searching for new means of representation. With free flowing lines and fluid spaces， Hadid pursued unique architectural forms that had rarely been conceived. In the same speech she mentioned that architecture is ultimately all about the creation of pleasant and stimulating settings for all aspects of social life. Thus， rather than fitting in， her designs are meant to be inspiring， if not provocative. With this in mind， it would be ill-advised to subject Hadid’s work to the same suitability criteria as traditional architecture. Her buildings might not be designed for their surroundings as much as they were for an experiment to test new concepts and the limits of creativity. She admitted that in her search for new methods of presentation， she came to the realization that “space itself might be warped and distorted to gain dynamism and complexity without losing coherence and continuity.”The concept of warping and distorting space changed the world of physics when a young scientist named Albert Einstein first introduced it a century ago. It is only fitting that Hadid’s designs bear similar revolutionary qualities that render more conventional designs obsolete.
Love her or hate her， one must admit that Zaha Hadid， through her landscapetransforming designs， opened a new window for people to see and understand architecture. Controversies surrounding her seemingly unfitting designs seem unlikely to fade into obscurity with her passing. These controversies are perhaps Hadid’s biggest legacy. For a rapidly growing metropolis like Beijing， new developments are so ubiquitous that residents have become indifferent to the scaffolding and cranes decorating the landscape. Rarely are they reminded of the fact that they are （or at least can be） participants in the process of urban development， one that shapes the present and the future of the city. In The Geography of Nowhere， American urban and architecture critic James Kunstler emphasizes the importance of creating places worth caring about. During a time when residents in one of the biggest cities in the world have become apathetic about the constructed environment that impacts their everyday lives， Hadid’s buildings serve as a shot of adrenaline to resuscitate their apathy. For a city characterized not only by irrepressible ambition， but also the financial means to thrive， the debates kindled by Hadid’s buildings served as a timely wakeup call. They offer policy makers an opportunity to reflect on developmental priorities and the direction in which the city is heading； more importantly， however， they inspire citizens to resume caring about the city they call home.