Antidote to Burnout

French architect wins 2008 Pritzker Prize

A little diversion from Vietnam...
I am pleased to see today that the French architect Jean Nouvel has been named the Pritzker Laureate in Architecture for 2008.  This prize is the equivalent to the Nobel prizes applied to architecture.

He has produced modernist designs that are very tailored to sites and circumstances, along with structural flair.  Here is an example from Lucerne (Luzern), Switzerland -- the KKL Culture and Convention Center, or Modern Art Museum.

When I took these photographs in 2003, I couldn't get over how knife-thin the edge of the cantilevered roof was.

The exterior enclosing walls or screens have the layers of material that I think is becoming the hallmark of a new architecture of the information age.

Historical tradition of modernist architecture in Vietnam

It may seem strange to call modernist architecture historical and traditional.  In southern Vietnam, however, this makes sense because modernist architecture has been practiced as the norm for over fifty years.  A walk through any Ho Chi Minh City neighborhood will reveal many examples of Vietnamese modernist houses built in the 1950s through the 1970s and beyond.

I have stated many times (in the "Design Touches" and "Modernist Houses" categories of postings) that the southern Vietnamese have an innate sense of good design, and they have been very willing to experiment and try out new ideas in materials, colors, and shapes.  I noted previously that current Vietnamese architects and designers are building upon a long tradition of strong modernist architecture.

When I came to Saigon to live in 1971-1972, I was surprised to find a modernist villa (next door to a French-colonial villa) across from my hotel.

This house appeared to have been constructed in the 1950s.  A walk down the street from where I lived was this new modernist townhouse, typical of those being built in the late 60s and early 70s.

The facade finish material for these modernist houses in the mid-20th century was almost always plaster inlayed with varying shades of grey exposed aggregate.  The plaster was applied to a reinforced concrete structural frame with extruded clay brick infill.  This is the same basic method of construction still in use today.  Today, however, the plaster is most often finished very smooth and then painted.  The exposed aggregate surfaces are what distinguish the early modernist houses built in Vietnam in the mid-20th century.

Old modernist houses are also found in abundance in the countryside, like this one in the Cu Chi district of HCMC.

Although these houses most often have sloped ceramic tile roofs and tropical shutters on the sides, the front facades are distinctively modernist, with clean simple lines, and utilitarian ventilation openings.  Notice the simple decorative lines midway up the columns (click on the photo to open a larger version).

These two houses in Quy Nhon (Binh Dinh Province) show the two trends of early modernist architecture.

These houses have escaped the recent destruction of beach-side fishermen's houses in Quy Nhon to build a new promenade.  The left-hand house shows the heavier but simpler modernist tradition, while the right-hand house displays the lighter touch with many simple linear decorative elements applied to the structural frame.

There are probably historians that would say that these houses show Chinese influences, but I do not think that is true at all.  Chinese houses usually display much more ostentatious decorations and do not have simple clean lines.  Chinese influences on architecture are much more prevalent in northern Vietnam, and are certainly seen in Buddhist pagodas and temples.

Historians might also say that early modernist architecture in Vietnam was influenced by French-colonial architects, but I see no evidence of that in Vietnamese modernist houses.  These modernist houses are a big jump from French-colonial villlas.  It is likely that the Vietnamese architects of these mid-20th century houses were educated in France and brought back their impressions of the early modernist architecture they may have seen in France, Germany, and Italy.  But the house designs are distinctly Vietnamese to me, and I believe that Vietnamese architects developed their own course of modernist architecture considering tropical climate responses and the ability to form up slender shapes and poor concrete in them.

The ability and desire to make slender concrete shapes is shown in these two early modernist houses in HCMC, probably constructed in the late 60s or early 70s.

The fins at the rooftop trellises for both these houses are all poured-in-place reinforced concrete.  I saw formwork for this kind of detail in 1972 walking around Saigon.  Today, however, the costs of labor and material to build this kind of formwork and take care in pouring concrete are too high even in Vietnam, so the current trend is to much less of this kind of detail.

While the previous two photographs illustrated the "lighter touch" school of Vietnamese modernist architecture, the following photograph illustrates the "heavy but simpler" trend of architecture for houses:

Many of these mid-20th century modernist houses are hidden away by the advertising signs common today in all Vietnamese towns and cities.

This larger house (probably built in the 1960s judging from the exposed aggregate plaster) is much more restrained in the use of decorative elements, but takes the middle road between light and heavy.

I believe that Vietnamese architects have developed a very distinctive modernist architecture for houses over the past sixty years that is tailored to the climate and the needs and good tastes of the Vietnamese people.

And it is likely that it wasn't just architects contributing to this development -- given the innate good design sense of the southern Vietnamese people, contractors and home-owners probably made many of the design decisions seen in these "historical modernist" houses.

Architecture over-the-top in Tay Ninh

Probably the most influential book in my life has been The Quiet American (1955) by Graham Greene.  Greene's evocative depiction of Vietnam brought me to ask for U.S. Navy construction posting for a year in Saigon in 1971-1972.  One of the prime plot scenes in the book (and subsequent movie adaptations) takes place in Tay Ninh Province west of Saigon where Fowler goes to observe the operations of General Thế at the Cao Đài Holy See or headquarters.  The key scene of the book occurs on Fowler's return to Sài Gòn when he is forced to stop on the road at night and climb into a guard tower.  Pyle, Fowler's antagonist, finds him there and saves Fowler's life, after telling Fowler that he wants Fowler's Vietnamese girlfriend.

None of the old guard towers along the highway (QL 22) between Tay Ninh exist today, so far as I could see, but the Cao Dai Holy See exists as a huge compound east of the city of Tay Ninh and continues in full glory.  In the book and in actual history, General Thế led a militia of Cao Đài adherents in a third force against the Viet Minh and French-supported South Vietnamese government.

The Đạo Cao Đài (meaning "way to the highest tower") is a highly syncretist religion, described in the Lonely Planet Guide for Vietnam (2005, p. 374) as follows:

Cao Daism (Dai Dao Tam Ky Pho Do) is the outcome of an attempt to create the ideal religion through the fusion of secular and religious philosophies of the East and West.  The result is a potpourri that includes aspects of most of the religious philosophies known in Vietnam during the early 20th century: Buddhism, Confucianism, Taoism, native Vietnamese spiritualism, Christianity and Islam.  The term Cao Dai (meaning high tower or palace) is a euphemism for God.

The Cao Đài Great Temple, built between 1933 and 1955, is highly symbolic of the religion and represents its own syncretist mix of over-the-top architectural styles, beginning with a French Baroque form of temple overlaid with Chinese pavilion detailing, enclosing a Rococo-based interior.

Although I am a modernist architect, I appreciate greatly the imagination and discipline evident in this temple and its construction.  I have been unable to determine the name of any architect, but I respect the knowledge of worldwide architectural styles and the design skills exhibited in this building.

The temple floor steps up in 9 levels representing the steps to heaven.

Since these levels are expressed on the exterior of the temple, a side view of the temple presents an optically disturbing sensation of imbalance or leaning.

The Divine Eye, or Eye of Providence, is a primary symbol of God for the Cao Đài, and is represented in many places in and around the temple, including each window along the sides of the temple.

The eye is also prominent on the front elevation of the temple, as well as the flag.

Globes are also prominent, as shown on the cupola dome above the central altar area of the nave.

In this case, we see the world globe from an odd angle that results in Europe beneath the animal form -- I don't know if this has any symbolism to the Cao Đài.

The front narthex features a mural showing three historical figures signing a "Third Alliance Between God and Man" -- the Chinese statesman Dr. Sun Yat-sen, the French poet and author Victor Hugo, and the 16th century Vietnamese poet Nguyễn Bỉnh Khiêm.

The interior is a true riot of color and symbolic decorative forms, with the ceiling painted to represent the heavens.

The uppermost ninth level features an all-seeing divine eye on a globe suspended above the altar.

The clergy and worshipers are seated on the floor up the initial floor levels, presumably in order of rank or attainment.

Men are seated on the right side (left in the above view), and the women on the left side, entering through separate doors.  Worship services are held four times daily, and tourists are welcomed to observe and take photographs from balconies on each side of the sanctuary.

The primary service attended by tourists is at 12 noon.

Most tourists arrive on tour buses out of Ho Chi Minh City that then head to the Cu Chi Tunnels attraction during the return trip.  We travelled the 96 kilometers from HCMC by motorbike, which I do not recommend.  It took us 3-1/2 hours each way, and that makes for sore butts (like riding a horse all day, I suppose).

Update on viewer interaction regarding modernist vs. historicist residential architecture

Reading through the comments on my posting a week ago requesting viewer interaction about modernist vs. historicist houses, the results so far have three preferences for the modernist house and one vote for the historicist house.  All three votes for the modernist house were hedged with concerns, however.

These results are surprising to me -- I had expected more votes for the historicist design since I am guessing that most people (at least in western countries) grew up in some kind of historicist or historical pastiche house or building.  These kinds of houses are like "comfort food" (this is what grandmother or mother used to cook -- this is NOT the kind of food that gourmets or critics think is good [although they like it]) -- historicist designs are what we usually see as homes in the west, and they leave evocative emotional responses.

The most recent comment was the most thoughtful and left many questions to me to answer.  Although the most interesting reading in many blogs is the reader comments, I suppose most readers don't click through to the comments, particularly readers using RSS or feed readers.  Therefore I will bring up this last comment and post it again for purposes of further discussion here.  This meaty comment is from Simon Kutcher of the blog Saigon Today, publishing daily photos of life in Vietnam.

"Regarding the choices, the modern house will have the better light and this (should) lead to better living space inside. My problem with a few of the ones around our area is that they can be a mishmash of styles and colours that do not always look like they go together. This one though I like.

"The historicist style shown is daunting. It looks like it belongs in a much colder climate than HCMC. It must be extremely dark inside. While the French colonial styles probably need more horizontal space, I would be interested in seeing if any new houses are attempting to replicate it. I would also be very interested in seeing a greater exposé of the historicist style done well, or a blend styles dene well for that matter.

"I drive through Nhiêu Lộc everyday and the thing that disappoints me is that with so many styles all next to each other, the streetscape can become extremely muddled and fractured. This does not suit my tastes but I was hoping to get an opinion from someone with some experience. There was a great planning opportunity wasted there I reckon. Cheers"

Simon prefers the modernist house since it appears to let in more light and he is averse to the historicist house because it may be dark inside.  Actually the style of most townhouses in Vietnamese cities is only expressed on the front facade and is perhaps carried through in the interior design.  Since the longer side walls and back wall are on property lines and have no windows, these houses are all really like caves, which require artificial light at all times and air conditioning.  The best of these houses have enough length so that interior courtyards can be added in the middle to provide a light well and ventilation.  On the front facade, modernist designs probably do provide more glassy area to let in light, but not always.  In new urban areas like Phú Mỹ Hưng in South Saigon, many house lots are large enough to build villas with enough space around the house to have plenty of windows in either style.

Both old modernist townhouses in Ho Chi Minh City as well as French colonial villas have many grilled openings at the tops of each floor story to allow natural ventilation.  Contemporary modernist architecture usually makes good stylistic use of these openings.  The French colonial style was a very good adaptation to the tropical climate with these ventilation grills and hooded openings, as well as overhanging roof eves and shuttered windows.  This style was most commonly applied to villas on larger pieces of land since there was little impulse to go vertical in those days.  I would love to see some adaptation of the French colonial style to a four or five-story narrow townhouse, but I don't remember seeing any, and I do not have any photographs of any.  It is interesting to me that most historicist styles applied to townhouses or villas in Vietnam are not French colonial, but rather are usually a mishmash of classical and European styles, like this example:

Simon recently published this photo

of what I call a contemporary historicist design on his blog, and many commenters had difficulty characterizing the design, with some consensus coming down to "Holland" architecture.  And there certainly is no adaptation to the tropical climate in this design.

Although I have an obvious published bias to modernist architecture, there are times when I do appreciate historicist architecture -- contemporary houses which use historical styles -- and I really love the old historical French colonial villas.  This example of historicist architecture appeals to me:

Maybe because it is covered up with plants, this design is restrained and is simply evocative of coziness and warmth.  Historicist applied decorations have not been added just for sake of imparting status to the owner.

In the following example, subtle historicist design references have been added to a plain structure to create a well-balanced elegant composition.

What I am particularly concerned about, however, is Simon's suggestion that good planning would dictate that all the houses along a street or in a neighborhood be of the same or similar style that all work together.  Walking along the villa streets of Phú Mỹ Hưng where all the villas are exactly the same is not one of my favorite activities.  After you see the first house, there is no need to continue walking down the street.    I am more interested in seeing the choices that people have made in the design of their houses, whether their choice be modernist or historicist.  It is important to me that each house be a well-resolved composition and interesting idea, no matter the style.  Then each house is seen as an object in a gallery of objects.  I don't like going to art galleries which only display one artist doing variations of the same idea, style, and technique in each painting.  I like an art museum that exhibits a progression of different ideas over time.  I think neighborhoods should be galleries showing the different times in their histories.  The old French colonial villa on the corner should not be torn down, but should be restored.  It is OK that a contemporary modernist townhouse is built next to it expressing the realities and ideas of our current times.  And next to that, someone might have built a faux-alpine chalet villa, showing their choice of values.  And next to them probably stands a "classical' modernist design from the mid-20th century.  Walking along such a street I am highly stimulated by the story (or mystery) each house has to show.

This is a very free market idea, isn't it, which is surely a mark of the current economic and social times of HCMC.  Can you imagine what a plan promulgated by the Ministry of Construction in Hanoi might dictate?  Most of the houses in Hanoi are all of the same historicist pastiche painted in the same ochre color.  That is why I chose to live in Saigon when I originally planned to live in Hanoi.  China has dumbed down most of its cities doing the same thing.

The times today are muddled and fractured, no matter where you live in the world.  There are good sides to this as well as bad sides.  But I think this is a very interesting time to live, with many new opportunities to use technology and layers of ideas to express and make sense of our muddled times.  But bureaucrats and large planning firms aren't going to come up with these ideas.  These ideas, like good contemporary or avant-garde art, comes from individuals making good choices for specific situations.  Architects and builders in Ho Chi Minh City are not on the cutting edge of contemporary architecture.  But they do produce very elegant designs that reflect the good tastes of their clients, and their differing new houses along the streets of HCMC reflect the economic and intellectual vitality of the city.

I realize that many people prefer a more ordered approach to urban planning and architecture, and they want to look at the city as a whole, or suburban developments as a whole, or streets as a whole, rather than as individual statements that don't unify as a whole.  I believe there should be choices available so we can all find environments to fit our individual tastes and life-styles.  But I think it is clear by now that the inner city districts of HCMC will not accommodate an ordered approach.  On the other hand, the new urban areas can and often do.

The iconic forms of houses...

Ask a little kid almost anywhere to draw a house and he/she most likely will draw a simple shape with a gable-end roof.  The gable-end roof form has persisted over the centuries as gable roofs were applied to most buildings in northern climates to shed snow.  The attic spaces under such roofs often catch a young child's imagination with secret cozy spaces filled with mementos or antiques.

My own 100-year-old house in San Francisco has two full bedrooms in the attic space under the gable roof.

But the roofs of houses in San Francisco need not be designed to shed snow -- these designs are strictly stylistic and laden with emotional attachments to long-ago periods of history -- in this case the Victorian age.

In a tropical region like Vietnam, it is disconcerting to see gable roof ends applied to flat-roofed houses just to add stylistic elements.

The spaces under the orange-tile roofs are empty and become very hot during the day.  On the other hand, countryside houses in Vietnam often had gable roof forms made of grass thatch, which was reasonably effective at draining away the torrential rains.

In the city, it seems as if these forms are applied to houses to add stylistic status for the owner of the house, as if to say that his house isn't really a home unless it has a traditional gable roof end.

This new house is the first house I have seen in Ho Chi Minh City to make full use under the gable roof form, and I am shocked that it looks so much like my house in San Francisco.

The style is overwhelmingly conflicted however, with the traditional roof form and windows above and the modernist glassy facade at the bottom.

Temple Mountains

Buddhist temples in urban areas of Vietnam often like to create a more ntatural atmosphere around the temple grounds.  In Ho Chi Minh City, land is expensive and large pieces of land are hard to find or put together, so temples or pagodas must do what they can with limited space.

This temple in the Phu Nhuan District of HCMC extended its usable space for a grotto or mountain by building upwards against the side of the neighboring house.

There appear to be windows in the house behind the mountain strips, which raises some interesting questions about how this all came about.

Color in Vietnamese modernist houses

Viet commented yesterday on my posting of 23 October 2007 entitled "Neighborhood new houses...":

I realize VNeses like to use to the secondary colors to paint thier buildings (perhaps it's due to the heat, probably it's toomuch to the eyes to use primary colors in the tropic climate).

That does seem to be generally true, but as usual there are good exceptions.  Primary colors are more often used here in Vietnam as accent colors (see my banner photo at the top of the page).  I believe that  southern Vietnamese have an innate good design sense that leads them to intelligent choices in the use of color.  Even though the background colors are usually secondary colors, they are often intense colors.  But here are a few modernist houses in Ho Chi Minh City that have used primary colors in big ways:

Every primary color including green (the plantings) are used in this house.

Large expanses of red used here as an accent color.

Strong primary colors are used here effectively to complement the strong forms.

Neighborhoood new houses...

There is construction work going on everywhere in all of the neighborhoods of Ho Chi Minh City.  While there are a fair number of high-rise buildings, bridges, highways, and housing subdivisions under construction, the bulk of work being done here is small-scale residential improvements along the small lanes within the large city blocks of Saigon.  My posting on 19 April 2007 described these neighborhoods as part of the urban fabric of the city.

Where home-owners are not tearing down their smaller houses and building much taller homes, they are constantly remodeling to add new features to their existing homes, or to raise the rooftop by another story.

Down the hẻm from me, an old villa was torn down over a couple of days and construction begun on five new 4-story houses at the same time, each on 4-meter wide by 12-meter long lots.  Three of the new houses were of a pop style using historicist (architectural styles adapted from the past) design elements:

The remaining two houses around the corner are of excellent modernist design:

These two modernist houses are now my favorites, and I need to return to them on a sunny day (rather rare around HCMC this month) to catch some better photos of them.

I am not sure whether one land owner decided to build three pop traditional design houses and two modernist houses for sale, or he sold the lots and the new owners made their own choices.  I will try to find out.

Design Touches 8

Not all of the ideas used in modernist buildings in Ho Chi Minh City are architectural.  This very plain building is made eye-catching through the use of some simple painted graphic lines.

Many of the sides or backs of HCMC buildings are blank or have small openings.  These building owners got together to paint a pattern on the back walls of their buildings.

It is impossible to escape the utility cables in architectural photography in Saigon.

Modernist design ideas in Việt Nam

I have often expressed my respect for the modernist tradition practiced by Vietnamese architects in urban houses.  I believe that Vietnamese architects have explored a long history of modernist design ideas, and produce very interesting, well-designed houses.  They constantly try out new original ideas using color and layering of the structural frame skillfully.  This house in my neighborhood illustrates the basic modernist design principals used by good Vietnamese architects in houses throughout Ho Chi Minh City.

This house exhibits a spare but well-chosen use of color as well as layering of the structural planes with void elements (holes)  to provide a balanced composition.

What I cannot understand is why Vietnamese architects have not often been able to scale this ability up to larger buildings.  More often than not, Vietnamese architecture for larger buildings is heavy-handed and displays none of the inventiveness and fresh ideas designed into new houses everyday here in HCMC.  This building is a new example (just finishing construction on Nguyễn Trãi Street in District 5).

The heavy base of the building is a very dark color with no relationship whatsoever to the curtain wall of the middle floors.  The facade is bland and is devoid of any ideas.

This residential building, newly constructed on Cao Thắng Street in District 3, is also a bland building, but explores some basic modernist ideas that give it design touches to offset the blandness..

Accent colors are skillfully used around the windows to emphasize the openings and give interest to a facade that is otherwise the most common expression of this kind of construction in Viet Nam.  Layers have been added to the facade to further give depth and interest to the building.  These are very simple ideas, but are not used often enough in the larger buildings designed by Vietnamese architects.

Thin Building

Vietnamese developers in TP. Hồ Chí Minh will build on any minimal lot if they can gain approval of their project from the City.  In this case, the lot on Trần Hưng Đạo Blvd. is only four meters wide at the end, and the developer was able to achieve approval for an 11-story building.

The Urban Fabric of HCMC

This article is the second in a series on urban planning of Ho Chi Minh City (HCMC).  The first article presented my image of the existing city.

The colonial French laid out the old city of Saigon, beyond the grid of downtown streets, with wide boulevards radiating at angles from monumental roundabouts.

As a result, most areas of TP. Hồ Chí Minh have very large blocks with long distances between cross-streets.

The street-front lots have much greater commercial value, so streets are lined with taller buildings featuring shops and restaurants at every ground floor opening.

The vast interiors of the large blocks are accessed by very narrow 1-to-4 meter-wide lanes, called hẻm in Vietnamese.

Smaller houses are arrayed along the narrow lanes,

and these houses also often feature shops or food stands at their ground floor openings.

Therefore Ho Chi Minh City, with 6.12 million people in 2004, is one of the densest cities in the world, at 10,608 people per square kilometer in its 19 inner-city districts, with 45,001 people per square kilometer in its densest district, Chợ Lơn in District 5.  By comparison, Hong Kong has a population density of 6,206 people per sq. km with 55,000 people/sq. km. in its densest district.  Manila has 41,014/sq. km., Cairo 36,618/sq. km., Mumbai 29,434/sq. km., New York City 10,292/sq. km. (25,849/sq. km. in Manhattan), 24,775/sq. km. in Paris, and 16,391/sq. km. in Seoul [all statistics from Wikipedia].  Given the density of some of these cities, HCMC cannot be considered overpopulated.  And there are many undeveloped areas within the city that can grow to increase the density of the city safely.

Although this density may seem high and unlivable to an American suburban dweller, the streets and lanes are actually very interesting and provide many varied experiences.

Many of Saigon's streets are tree-lined shady avenues.

In the heat of the day, people tend to stay indoors, so the density is not as apparent as it might be.

But the busy streets hold many relaxing venues and get-aways.

as well as parks spread around the city.

The high density of potential customers also allows for many varied restaurants and coffee shops along the streets.

These dense blocks are highly sustainable since they carry almost every activity and commodity necessary for urban life, including street-side markets.

Since automobiles cannot enter the narrow lanes of the block, these residents will not be tempted to buy automobiles and contribute to the air pollution and traffic congestion in the city.  And since many of the residents are secure in the blocks and have everything that they need, they rarely venture outside the block and require transportation to other parts of the city.  Those that have jobs outside the blocks commute via bus or motorbike.

The traffic congestion is becoming a critical problem since the city has delayed implementation of plans for subway or freeway systems.  This is the view from a bus during the rush hour:

Parking for automobiles on the streets is nonexistent, although there is often overnight parking available in some neighborhoods.

Nevertheless, there are indications that the HCMC government will begin to address its infrastructure issues soon.  How the government regulates future development, however, will greatly impact the existing urban fabric of the city.  More about that later.

My Image of Ho Chi Mnh City

In order to prepare one's personal vision for the urban design and development of a city, one must have a good sense of what his/her city currently is.  The description of one's personal image of his/her city is important as a means to determine differences in perceptions of images.  While I might find TP. Hồ Chí Minh to be a very stimulating intensive environment, my neighbor might think that TPHCM is currently too messy and chaotic.  It is these differences in perceptions that are important to lay out and explore in order to determine the basis for change in the environment that people can agree upon and make happen.

This is my image of Ho Chi Minh City at this time, tempered by my memories (and photographs) of Saigon past in 1971-1972.

To me, the inner-city HCMC is a very vibrant busy commercial center overlain directly on family houses, villas, and apartment buildings.

As a result of this mixed use, HCMC to me is an extremely intensive urban city -- intensive with people, smells, sound, color and light that is unmatched in most modern cities of the world.  Yet HCMC is a modern city, with most of the amenities we usually associate with modern cities, such as department stores, shopping centers, high-rise office buildings, and transit systems.

And HCMC has so far avoided ripping out its past of old colonial buildings that set the urban fabric for the downtown districts of Saigon.

Over time, people found plenty of holes in the fabric to insert small houses and commercial stores.  Then over the past couple of decades, developers have found holes in this fabric or cleared enough small houses to allow them to place higher-rise buildings.  But the mix of people living and working and shopping together in one place remains.

Although there are several 20-to-40-story high-rise buildings spread around the city, the city on the whole is primarily composed of buildings from 3-to-8 floors.

It is interesting to me that the skyline of Ho Chi Minh City has not changed that much from its war-time Saigon days.  This aerial photograph taken by me in 1972 shows somewhat the same scale of development existing today.

Contrast the old photo with this recent photograph posted by Jaroslaw on the online skyscrapercity.com Vietnam forum:

Rather than a large increase of high-rise towers, the density of the overall fabric has been increased -- the average height may have increased from two or three stories to five stories.

The more recent high-rise buildings are spread around the city and have not been clustered in one area, except for the downtown hotels between Hai Bà Trưng and Đồng Khởi Streets.

So for me, my image of Ho Chi Minh City of the past, present, and future, is a mixture of uses within a fabric of commercial and residential structures that is constantly evolving rather than replacing itself wholesale.  This results in neighborhoods of mixed uses and types, styles, and sizes of buildings.

The results may be a little jarring sometimes,

but that provides visual interest and energy that is highly stimulating and provides places for the differing needs of people.  To me, that is the measure of a vital creative city.