Nothing more than a pretty face: adaptive reuse of the former National Aerated Water Co. building

On a plot of land along Serangoon Road, where the National Aerated Water Company used to fill countless bottles with soft drinks like Sinalco or Kickapoo Joy Juice, a new condominium now spreads its 117 units across 18-storeys. Most of the former bottling plant, built in 1954, has given way to the Jui Residences. The condominium received their Temporary Occupation Permit (TOP) in June 2022, but the old art-deco inspired main building has been left standing to house F&B offerings on the first storey, as well as office space on the second storey. Some may call this combination of old and new an awkward architectural piggyback ride, others call it conservation.

During a reconnaissance visit to the sales gallery in 2019 an excited real estate agent exclaimed: “This is all about the heritage. It’s a very unique project!” The developer, Selangor Dredging, describes this project as “allowing heritage to be brought to life through adaptive re-use¹” on their website; and Lim Eng Hwee, the Urban Redevelopment Authority’s (URA) chief executive commented on behalf of the agency: “We are heartened that Selangor Dredging sees the significance of the building and supports its conservation. The conservation of this heritage-rich building would not have been possible without the support from the owner and recognition of the building’s significance from the community².”

There is truth in these statements; part of the bottling plant is, after all, conserved. Yet, the exuberance is somewhat unsettling. If anything short of tabula rasa on a historic site can be considered worthy of praise, the bar for conservation is set dazzlingly low. Unfortunately, this narrow take on conservation is not uncommon. Urban and architectural heritage in Singapore is often reduced to just 2D representations: long-gone buildings like the National Theatre (1959-1986) are remembered primarily by their instantly recognisable elevation, and fashionably flat illustrations of dragon playgrounds adorn miscellaneous merchandise; the experiential dimension is forgotten. Façades have become the token symbol of heritage conservation, while nostalgia beats substance. Discourse on what conservation can and should be is nowhere to be found.

When praiseworthy conservation simply means preserving any markers of the past, some more complex and less accessible works of architecture, especially ones without “conventionally pretty” façades, may be doomed to meet eternal oblivion. Along the length of Kallang River where the former bottling plant is located, no other similar art deco-inspired frontage could be found on whatever that is left of the riverside industrial heritage. The third dimension—the space—needs to be considered for preservation, to allow full appreciation of all qualities. A discussion needs to emerge – one that goes beyond mere back-patting when anything is saved from erasure – to grapple with what we have lost and what we still stand to lose.

Industrial space, displaced

In the case of the bottling plant, the biggest loss is that of the actual industrial work space. Taking up most of the site, the area where the actual bottling work took place extended along the river and was bounded by the now conserved L-shaped main building on one end and a utilitarian two-storey block on the other. The yard was covered by a sawtooth roof and was spacious and airy especially after all the bottling equipment had been removed. The URA noted that Selangor Dredging was “keen to celebrate Kallang River’s rich industrial past³,” but somehow, except for an old fuel pump, nothing from this largest and most important part of the plant—in short, nothing industrial—was invited to join the celebration. Instead, there is a barrage of bottle motifs adorning marketing materials and common areas like the pool. That and the new name given to the site, Jui (水 ­– Pe̍h-ōe-jī: tsuí), water in Hokkien.

The industrial spatial and material qualities — empty work yards, shade, steel, rust, etc. are now buried under the polished looking condominium. Marketing gimmicks and the taxidermy of a frontispiece do not achieve much as heritage representation. Rather it’s the experience of the historic materiality and space that would have brought heritage to life in an adaptive reuse architecture. As Docomomo’s recent series on industrial heritage or the Projector’s film screenings at the Pasir Panjang Power Station have shown, there is no shortage of good examples of former industrial buildings with spatial experience at the heart of the reuse concept.

The people living in condominiums and HDB blocks around Jui Residences are, by and large, not much involved in the celebration of its heritage. The familiar façade may still be there, and the neighbourhood may gain one or two new restaurants, but the site, and thereby its space and industrial heritage, remains no more accessible nor tangible than it used to be when bottling operations were in full swing. The taxidermised main building alone cannot become a “place” – a space with distinct character where life occurs, according to the definition of architectural theorist Christian Norberg-Schulz⁴ – because its role has been reduced to merely exterior appearance. For the neighbourhood, the new development is thus a missed opportunity to build a meaningful connection between the area’s industrial past and those who now live here – and who have, in a sense, displaced this heritage. Keeping the industrial spirit alive by retaining some of the not-so-pretty and utilitarian historic elements could have created a culturally rich and spatially diverse anchor for residents. The old saw-tooth roof, especially, would have been a perfect sheltered outdoor area for the neighbourhood: picture anything from workshops, to exhibitions, to concerts. Instead, all traces of parts relating to actual industrial activities were erased.

The city loses out

The loss of industrial space at the former plant of the National Aerated Water Co. may not appear significant on first look. However, considering that whatever little heritage that remains along the Kallang River today may not be retained eventually, even in the form of an unsatisfactory adaptive reuse, the Jui Residences frontispiece could then one day be all that is left of the river’s industrial past. Could the condominium be the first step of the unravelling of the historic industrial urban fabric that stretches beyond Upper Serangoon Road along the Kallang River? Each building when considered on its own may be expendable, but as English architecture critic Reyner Banham argued, the urban fabric is not; he considered it “valuable”, pointing out that it “ensures difference and distinctiveness”.⁵﹐⁶

The value of urban fabric goes beyond the immediate surroundings.  Jui Residences, like any run-of-the-mill condominiums, will likely not have much pull beyond residents and their visitors. A different planning approach  would probably reap more benefits for the city at large. For example, instead of adding yet another theatre to the cluster of venues in the city, such as Esplanade’s new Singtel Waterfront Theatre, why not transform the former Lee Rubber plant warehouses in what is now Kallang DistriPark into a one-of-a-kind cultural space? Not only would this have preserved industrial heritage in an experienceable manner, but it could become a catalysts for a more meaningful evolution of the Kallang River neighbourhood, potentially becoming a destination for locals and tourists alike.

Outside of industrial architecture, Singapore has some notable examples of heritage-laden urban fabric that draws in visitors from across the island and offers spatial experiences with meaningful connections with the past—on both the building and neighbourhood scales. In the Civic District, to name one, despite plenty of changes, the character of the neighbourhood is still largely intact. The former Supreme Court and City Hall have been converted into the National Gallery, the old Parliament is now the Arts House, the Victoria Theatre and Concert Hall has been modernised, the list goes on. Yet, these colonial buildings are more than façades and can be experienced in three, and even four, dimensions, history being the axis of time. Even new additions to the neighbourhood such as the new Supreme Court follow the existing urban scale, allowing the spatial essence of the place to be palpable and largely undistorted.

How much is enough?

Gillman Barracks, a cluster of art galleries housed in a former military camp around 5km west of Singapore’s CBD, is another such example. Its utilitarian buildings have been rebranded and refurbished, yet the typological fabric along Lock Road and Malan Road is still very much discernible. The reuse of the small, discrete units as individual galleries is a fitting adaptation of the ensemble. The original open spaces are as important as the buildings themselves in contributing to the unique character of the site. However, the barracks used to span much further and include many more buildings - part of the former extent is now occupied by the Interlace condominium. Worryingly, the current programme for the site is just an interim use

If one were to imagine a Jui Residences-type approach for the long term use of Gillman Barracks, the former Beach Road Camp—now South Beach— comes to mind. Most of the open space there is now occupied by two towers and a vast undulating roof. These new additions overwhelm the historic buildings and distort the scale of the former camp, creating an awkward ensemble of mismatched typologies. Arguably, it has kept more open spaces and structures than Jui Residences, but the development was still listed by Rice Media in 2017 as one of Singapore’s four “lamest conservation attempts”⁷.

Gillman Barracks, the Beach Road Camp, and the National Aerated Water Company plant, different as the individual new developments may be, do share very similar fates. In each case, parts are conserved, and parts are lost. But how much conservation is enough?

Personally, and purely subjectively, I would rank the quality of conservation in these three (re)developments from worst to best as Jui Residences, South Beach, and Gillman Barracks. Now, one lone author cannot be the authority on what constitutes good and bad conservation but neither can a department of a government agency, regardless of how much press coverage they can get. Both can, however, partake in a larger discussion. History is made collectively and collectively we must decide what we take with us into the future.

The example of Gillman Barracks shows just how easy it is to forget what is no longer physically present. Without knowledge of the site’s history, even a selective showcase can be viewed favourably.  Such potential distortion in heritage presentation is precisely why conservation needs to be considered more broadly and in-depth, and go beyond retaining a few visual markers.

In the case of Jui Residences, it is clear which qualities have been lost, but how exactly could they have been preserved? How much is enough white space? Could a residential tower have hovered above the sawtooth roof? These are difficult questions on top of other conservation technical issues such as structural repairs, how much patina to keep, etc. Design is not the only roadblock. The URA as a main driving force for conservation, for example, can at times be both at odds with the planning agendas of other agencies such as HDB, but also internally with its own goals of densifying neighbourhoods.

Jui Residences should serve as a warning and reminder that these planning contradictions and design issues need addressing. An apathetic public, profit-driven developers and the construction and real estate industries at large, as well as government agencies bear a collective responsibility. The way we see conservation needs to change across the board. Widening the discussion to more stakeholders and heritage sites is easier said than done, but it is a good, if not the only, way to start.

Pessimistically speaking, new developments along the Kallang River will likely replace most, if not all, existing industrial heritage and transform the neighbourhood into a convenient but placeless precinct. There is still time and industrial real estate left to rethink and most importantly discuss our approach to conservation, the first step towards reconsidering masterplanning decisions and incentivising owners and developers to add more than just financial value to the built environment. If the industrial heritage along the Kallang River truly matters, it needs to be appreciated and protected across all dimensions including time. The benefits to creating connections between future and past that go beyond cosmetics and gimmicks would be plentiful for Singapore.


Disclaimer:

This essay was prepared by Stefan Tuchen in his personal capacity. The opinion expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not reflect the view of Docomomo Singapore.


References

[1] Selangor Dredging Berhad. Jui Residences [online]. Available at: https://juiresidences-official.sg. Accessed September 27, 2021

[2] Zaccheus M. Old National Aerated Water Co building in Serangoon will be conserved, says URA [online]. The Straits Times 2017 Dec 15. Available at: https://www.straitstimes.com/singapore/old-bottling-factory-in-serangoon-will-be-conserved-says-ura. Accessed November 15, 2020.

[3] Urban Redevelopment Authority. Protecting & Rejuvenating Built Heritage [online]. Available at: https://www.ura.gov.sg/Corporate/Planning/Master-Plan/Themes/Rejuvenating-Familiar-Places/Protecting-and-Rejuvenating-Built-Heritage. Accessed September 27, 2021.

[4] Norberg-Schulz C. Genius Loci: Towards a Phenomenology of Architecture. Rizzoli 1979.

[5] see Whiteley N. Reyner Banham: Historian of the Immediate Future. The MIT Press 2002, 23-24.

[6] Banham R. Embalmed City. New Statesman 1963 Apr 12, 528–530.

[7] Lau R. Singapore’s 4 Lamest Attempts at Building Conservation [online]. Rice Media 2017 Jun 9. Available at: https://www.ricemedia.co/current-affairs-opinion-singapores-4-lamest-attempts-at-building-conservation/. Accessed September 27, 2021.

Further Reading: The History of the National Aerated Water Plant

[A] New $500,000 soft drinks factory opens in Oct [online]. The Straits Times 1954 Jul 23. Available at: https://eresources.nlb.gov.sg/newspapers/Digitised/Article/straitstimes19540723-1.2.156.3. Accessed September 27, 2021.

[B] Sinalco soft drink plant opens in PJ [online]. The Straits Times 1964 Jul 11. Available at: https://eresources.nlb.gov.sg/newspapers/Digitised/Article/straitstimes19640711-1.2.105. Accessed September 27, 2021.

[C] Price of soft drinks up 5c a bottle [online]. The Straits Times 1974 Nov 6. Available at: https://eresources.nlb.gov.sg/newspapers/Digitised/Article/straitstimes19741106-1.2.59. Accessed September 27, 2021.

[D] Take less soft drinks, Case tells consumers [online]. The Straits Times 1981 Apr 18. Available at: https://eresources.nlb.gov.sg/newspapers/Digitised/Article/straitstimes19810418-1.2.58. Accessed September 27, 2021.

[E] National Aerated Water Co Pte Ltd v Monarch Co, Inc. Singapore Law Reports 2000, 2, 24–42. (Call no.: RSING 348.595704 SLR)

Stefan Tuchen

Stefan Tuchen has always been fascinated by the sociology of the built environment. He studied architecture at the Technische Universität Braunschweig and specialised in airport planning and design. Eventually, his complete immersion in the study of the past, present, and future of the world’s airports led him to SUTD, where he presently spearheads airport user experience research.

https://www.linkedin.com/in/steventoucan/
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