After decades of growth, South Korea is now a land full of apartments
by Chico Harlan
The Washington Post.
Apartment houses first sprouted decades ago as a way to accommodate South Korea’s booming middle class, and they were the picture of a nation in rapid ascent.
But the most remarkable thing about them isn’t the national transformation they heralded, urban design experts say. It is their staying power.
South Korea today is dominated by tech giants, its streets filled with neon lights, coffee shops and barbecue joints. But despite its first-world status, it has not seen a new demand for townhouses, city-center living or artsy warehouse districts. Rather, people still prefer to live in apartments that look nearly unchanged from the boom years — units built by Hyundai or Samsung or Lotte, in buildings from 15 to 30 stories tall.
Although the country’s real estate market has slowed, apartments form the backbone of pre-planned cities under construction, such as Dongtan, where 100 complexes — for 310,000 people — are being built in a loose ring around a golf course. Apartment buildings are also pushing into some of Seoul’s classic neighborhoods. A few mid-size cities have built mega-towers, 60-some stories high.
Some South Koreans say that the apartments have become a symbol of success and that moves into bigger units serve as milestones in their lives. After college: a first apartment. After marriage: a bigger apartment. As children grow: a similar apartment in a better school district. The average Korean moves every five years, a steady vertical migration, and about 60 percent live in apartments, up from 1 percent 40 years ago, according to a recent book, “Apartment,” written by Park Cheol-soo, a professor at the University of Seoul.
Most Korean apartments are rectangular, and very few have balconies. Their biggest windows tend to face toward the south or southeast, allowing in the most sunlight. Most buildings have construction company logos and unit numbers stamped onto the sides. They do not rise from the street with businesses in the bottom floor or two. Rather, they are built in complexes that are strictly residential, with one or two guarded entrances. Only residents or approved visitors may enter. Many of the more modern facilities have playgrounds or fitness centers for residents.
Koreans are not blind to the downside of such a style. The walled complexes close off large plots of land to the public, and the apartments themselves cut the nation into millions of impersonal cells. At one complex in Jamsil, on the outskirts of Seoul, 19,000 people live in a single city block containing 72 high-rises.
“There isn’t much design inspiration. They’re just stacked up,” said Park In-seok, an architecture professor at Myongji University. He described a paradox in which the apartments are mocked for their appearance but coveted for their convenience.
“Almost everybody hates the apartment,” Park said. “But everybody wants to live in one.”
South Korean society emphasizes the family, not the community, and analysts say the apartments reflect that: The individual units look much nicer than the buildings they are in. Particularly in apartments built since the 1990s, the interiors are comfortable, with wooden floors and stainless-steel kitchens. Outside maintenance is taken care of, and families can focus on their own small spaces.
“It is convenient,” said Kim Sung-jin, an employee at Dell who has lived in three different apartment buildings over the past 17 years. “Plus you have a security guard. There’s a parking space for you. There’s a school nearby.”
The apartments, initially, were a means to hold the nation together during its postwar growth. Government officials sometimes said that if people became dissatisfied with their living situations, they would be likelier to protest against the government, at the time controlled by military leaders. The first apartment buildings, Korea’s national housing developer said in the 1960s, would “contribute to the aesthetics of the capital city” and serve as a useful propaganda tool — showing Pyongyang the affluence of the South.
Many of South Korea’s early apartment designers studied in the United States and were perhaps influenced by the boxy look of standalone suburban homes, some experts say. But they acknowledge that South Korea’s apartments have a distinctly communist feel and resemble the units seen in some parts of Moscow.
South Korean construction companies try to differentiate their apartment buildings — each firm uses its brand name, like the IPark, the Castle — but experts admit there’s little difference between them.
An annual contest is held to pick the best apartment complex constructed within the previous calendar year. Ten urban designers and architects tour the country by bus, inspecting applicants’ buildings and interviewing residents.
One judge says that copycatting is rampant and that modest innovations by one developer are soon adopted by another. Fitness centers. Artificial streams. Underground parking. Ahn Kun-hyuck, the lead panelist, said the contest in some years is “very hard to judge.”
If the apartments have a beauty, it’s best viewed from afar — a scale that recognizes their utility and militant geometry. Kim, the Dell employee, is an amateur photographer, and he sometimes darts out of work at dusk and heads to mountain ridges or scenic lookout points. The sky is orange, the massive Han River shimmers, and the apartment buildings catch just the right light.
But Kim said his best photos actually come minutes later, when the sun sets.
With nightscapes, “you only see beautiful lights,” he said. “You don’t see the ugly things.”
Comments from Japan Times
(This article was also publishd in Japan Times)
But the most remarkable thing about them isn’t the national transformation they heralded, urban design experts say. It is their staying power.
South Korea today is dominated by tech giants, its streets filled with neon lights, coffee shops and barbecue joints. But despite its first-world status, it has not seen a new demand for townhouses, city-center living or artsy warehouse districts. Rather, people still prefer to live in apartments that look nearly unchanged from the boom years — units built by Hyundai or Samsung or Lotte, in buildings from 15 to 30 stories tall.
Although the country’s real estate market has slowed, apartments form the backbone of pre-planned cities under construction, such as Dongtan, where 100 complexes — for 310,000 people — are being built in a loose ring around a golf course. Apartment buildings are also pushing into some of Seoul’s classic neighborhoods. A few mid-size cities have built mega-towers, 60-some stories high.
Some South Koreans say that the apartments have become a symbol of success and that moves into bigger units serve as milestones in their lives. After college: a first apartment. After marriage: a bigger apartment. As children grow: a similar apartment in a better school district. The average Korean moves every five years, a steady vertical migration, and about 60 percent live in apartments, up from 1 percent 40 years ago, according to a recent book, “Apartment,” written by Park Cheol-soo, a professor at the University of Seoul.
Most Korean apartments are rectangular, and very few have balconies. Their biggest windows tend to face toward the south or southeast, allowing in the most sunlight. Most buildings have construction company logos and unit numbers stamped onto the sides. They do not rise from the street with businesses in the bottom floor or two. Rather, they are built in complexes that are strictly residential, with one or two guarded entrances. Only residents or approved visitors may enter. Many of the more modern facilities have playgrounds or fitness centers for residents.
Koreans are not blind to the downside of such a style. The walled complexes close off large plots of land to the public, and the apartments themselves cut the nation into millions of impersonal cells. At one complex in Jamsil, on the outskirts of Seoul, 19,000 people live in a single city block containing 72 high-rises.
“There isn’t much design inspiration. They’re just stacked up,” said Park In-seok, an architecture professor at Myongji University. He described a paradox in which the apartments are mocked for their appearance but coveted for their convenience.
“Almost everybody hates the apartment,” Park said. “But everybody wants to live in one.”
South Korean society emphasizes the family, not the community, and analysts say the apartments reflect that: The individual units look much nicer than the buildings they are in. Particularly in apartments built since the 1990s, the interiors are comfortable, with wooden floors and stainless-steel kitchens. Outside maintenance is taken care of, and families can focus on their own small spaces.
“It is convenient,” said Kim Sung-jin, an employee at Dell who has lived in three different apartment buildings over the past 17 years. “Plus you have a security guard. There’s a parking space for you. There’s a school nearby.”
The apartments, initially, were a means to hold the nation together during its postwar growth. Government officials sometimes said that if people became dissatisfied with their living situations, they would be likelier to protest against the government, at the time controlled by military leaders. The first apartment buildings, Korea’s national housing developer said in the 1960s, would “contribute to the aesthetics of the capital city” and serve as a useful propaganda tool — showing Pyongyang the affluence of the South.
Many of South Korea’s early apartment designers studied in the United States and were perhaps influenced by the boxy look of standalone suburban homes, some experts say. But they acknowledge that South Korea’s apartments have a distinctly communist feel and resemble the units seen in some parts of Moscow.
South Korean construction companies try to differentiate their apartment buildings — each firm uses its brand name, like the IPark, the Castle — but experts admit there’s little difference between them.
An annual contest is held to pick the best apartment complex constructed within the previous calendar year. Ten urban designers and architects tour the country by bus, inspecting applicants’ buildings and interviewing residents.
One judge says that copycatting is rampant and that modest innovations by one developer are soon adopted by another. Fitness centers. Artificial streams. Underground parking. Ahn Kun-hyuck, the lead panelist, said the contest in some years is “very hard to judge.”
If the apartments have a beauty, it’s best viewed from afar — a scale that recognizes their utility and militant geometry. Kim, the Dell employee, is an amateur photographer, and he sometimes darts out of work at dusk and heads to mountain ridges or scenic lookout points. The sky is orange, the massive Han River shimmers, and the apartment buildings catch just the right light.
But Kim said his best photos actually come minutes later, when the sun sets.
With nightscapes, “you only see beautiful lights,” he said. “You don’t see the ugly things.”
Comments from Japan Times
(This article was also publishd in Japan Times)
·
flew over Korea yesterday on my way
back to Japan, can only agree, it really is covered in apartment blocks from
North to South with less and less forest/nature in between.... wouldn't want to
live there...
Im from seattle, I feel the same about tokyo.
Agree with you, on the other hand, tokyos a city, a
huge part if Japan is still wilderness, the big problem when I flew over South
Korea is that the urban sprawl stretches almost without any wilderness down to
Pusan.... I prefer japan, I often hike out into the wild, no one to be met for
days if you go to the right parts of the country§
I am from Seattle to and live in Tokyo now. I have
never been to Korea, but Tokyo is much nicer to live in that what I see in that
photo. Even the center of Tokyo has many single family houses, parks, and
neighborhood feeling around each station.
Good article. I lived in Seoul and always marveled
about these places and why there are so many. I agree with your main
conclusion: the design of these places is very economical, but they lack any
aesthetics or community feel.
I lived in both Japan and Korea. Korea is a much
better place, looks much richer than Japan, particularly the sea side cities
like Busan, which is much better than Dubai or Doha today.
Japanese cities have no planning, one big block next to a wooden small house made with cheapest materials. There are lot of poor people in Japan living in those poorly made house and very ugly looking apartments.
In South Korea it is all planned just like it was in the Soviet cities, all rows of apartments, which was very very big, compare with tiny apartments in Japan.
Japanese cities have no planning, one big block next to a wooden small house made with cheapest materials. There are lot of poor people in Japan living in those poorly made house and very ugly looking apartments.
In South Korea it is all planned just like it was in the Soviet cities, all rows of apartments, which was very very big, compare with tiny apartments in Japan.
Very few people move into their own apartment after
college though, tending to stay living with their family until they get
married. I spent three years living in Korea and encountered just a handful
young people who lived alone in apartments, unlike in Japan. If their family lived
in another city they usually stayed in goshiwons (a kind of dorm) or - if their
finances allowed - Officetels, which are small, furnished but very
high-standard rooms with bathrooms in urban areas.
No comments:
Post a Comment