By Deke Erh

I was brought in the old French Concession in Shanghai. My grandfather served his entire life in United States Navy's Pacific Fleet. My father worked for the American firm Texaco. But before his death my father never told me his story nor that of my grandfather.

When the Cultural Revolution began in 1966 I was only seven years old. I had only enjoyed one month of school life when it closed. In answer to Chairman Mao's call, my older brothers and sisters went to the countryside to work, while I could play in the street all day long. At that time all the rich were driven from their homes and had their properties confiscated. But we children could not understand these things. Our greatest pleasure was to play hide-and-seek or war games in these big deserted dwellings. My interest in architecture probably germinated in old houses.

In the late 1980's Deng Xiao Ping called on China's citizens to work hard and for Shanghai to mark great progress. It was then that the cosmic construction and rebuilding of the city began. My heart became deeply anxious when I saw my familiar streets change and its buildings vanish forever from my sight. I took out my camera to make a record of these disappearing treasures. And then in 1990 I began to work with Tess, and in 1991 we published our first book, A last look, to show the Western architecture of the old Shanghai -- truly a last look.

Since that ten years, after shooting numerous photographs on the theme, my feeling were complicated. I was always looking back to my youth and its turbulent era.

At that time food was scarce and I still remember the tasteless mushroom soup drunk from Western-style dishes, cheese that could be found only in one food store, located at the intersection of Huai Hai and Chang Shu Roads; it is now the elegant Maison Mode/ To buy French bread called for long queuing at the Jing An Bankery.

I also remember the autumn nights, the streets lined with plane trees and totally dark. But the music of Mozart could be heard flowing from someone's fingers into the cold wet avenue -- through a pitch-black window.

All these things happened in the old French Concession.

Almost every big old house had its own beautiful but sad story. I have always been obsessed and tortured by these sad, true tales. Maybe some day I will write a series of books, Monsters and Ghosts. This was the name given to capitalists, landlords, counter-revolutionaries, and Rightists, the people who lives in those old houses during the Revolution.

As a cultured man and a photographer maybe I am lucky, as I have witnessed the profound changes of an age. Today, as the Shanghainese are building a new Shanghai with zeal and fantastic speed, they are also expressing their sentimental attachment to the past one hundred years.

In These frenetic years, commerce has begun to encroach into once quite personal places. Many old houses are now used for high-level hotels, bars and restaurants. Four years ago I too inaugurated a book shop and coffer bar combined, called The Old China Hand Reading Room, on a quiet street in the old French Concession. The government authorities could not even imagine such a thing because it was the first ever in this city.

In the cultural and art world it offers an atmosphere of reminiscences. Various works about old Shanghai can be found everywhere. I know a woman author who is the same age that I am. She was born into a 100% revolutionary family and her work was full of revolutionary rhetoric. But she has gradually changed into a capitalist lady in her popular works. The revolutionary fervor is totally gone. To me it is amazing that she can cast away so easily a cause in which she believed so strongly and for so many years

Since finishing this book I have another two books in the works: The Old Town in Shanghai and Shanghai in the New Century are almost completed. I plan to publish these by the end of 2001. Unlike the old French Concession with its colonial atmosphere, Shanghai's Old Town is still characterized by its traditional Chinese life style, maintained through its 700-year-old history. One can still find the imprint of a feudalistic society in this once-walled city, which has been spawn to a bottle of old wine.

In contrast, in Pudong and other new development areas, a modern Shanghai has already emerged. Thus, in the same time frame, in the same city, and from the same architectural perspective, three totally different photographic albums have emerged. This astonishes even me. Maybe this is the reason I am so gripped by Shanghai.

I love Shanghai.