Updating something well-used and loved is perhaps a task more daunting than doing something from scratch. The difficulty lies in contending with the ‘smoothening’ that the passage of time offers: deficiencies become quirks, and annoyances transmogrify into charm. When familiarity bred with time is jeopardized by change, the latter may not be welcomed, even if for the better. This was the challenge that Randy Chan and his team at Zarch took on together with the Town Council of Ang Mo Kio as part of its pilot phase to rejuvenate Ang Mo Kio Town Center, which has served a neighbourhood of now 150,000 for the past 50 years.

Seated by a glass wall in McDonald’s within the Town Centre on a Monday at 9am, Randy walked me through the project brief, which was essentially centred around two core themes: accessibility, which needs no explanation in light of the ageing populace, and attractiveness, considering the direct competition the shops within the Town Centre face against the five air-conditioned shopping malls within its immediate vicinity. Following our conversation, Randy led me on a tour with great enthusiasm, beginning with the Arrival Square.

As a place to see and be seen, the agora as an urban instrument was manifested as an open plaza when the Town Centre was built by the Housing and Development Board in the 1970s. However, what was built seemed like it took little to no consideration for the weather, though one could argue that Singapore was not as hot or crowded then. In any case, sitting on a bench composed of bricks in the hot sun is anything but pleasant, and thus the new canopy served as refuge from not only the sun and rain, but also from the slight unsettling discomfort of being in a large open space. Coined as the prospect-refuge theory by Jay Appleton in his seminal 1975 piece The Experience of Landscape, he posits that the reptilian brain that we as a species have not yet evolved beyond is responsible for our preference for being able to see while not being seen. Through deep shade provided by the canopy and thoughtfully placed benches, the ubiquitous uncles and aunties can now happily take refuge from both the sun and discomfort from being spatially exposed.

Walking down the mall was a different experience in contrast, as the area remained largely unsheltered. I asked Randy why, and he said it was necessary to keep these spaces clear of structures for temporary events to be held in. He also pointed out how they have tidied up storefronts by introducing a system for standardizing signage. Apart from reducing visual clutter, what I found interesting was that participation in this programme was voluntary. What this meant was that, for one reason or another, some shops did not have their signs implemented with this system. The solution was a placeholder which featured a dot-matrix graphic that resembled foliage (or camouflage, if you had spent time in the army). Instead of a haphazard hodgepodge of varying colours, sizes, and placement, we now have a continuous band that amplifies the perspectival drama of walking down a mall. Randy noted that this strategy avoided alienating business owners while still creating visual harmony – a delicate balancing act of persuasion and design ingenuity.

The greening of the space was quite extensive, and Randy was surprised that the Town Council went as far as to agree with implementing green roofs for the shops below, which he excitedly shared with me after we raced up a few flights of stairs to get a good view. Standing atop, I was struck by how these green roofs transformed otherwise underutilized surfaces into vibrant ecological patches, improving the visual environment and reducing heat gain. Our tour culminated at a second open plaza, this time themed as a “Heritage Square,” complete with a new fountain that is a nod to the one that existed in its place but had been demolished a couple of decades earlier. Embedded in the ground around the fountain were medallions etched with vignettes of the past, with some scenes more familiar than others. Almost immediately adjacent to this space was the Central Stage, the approach of which was flanked by two majestic rain trees set in lushly landscaped planter boxes disguised as benches for seating.

Shortly after we parted ways, I took some time to explore the place on my own, enjoying the vistas that unrolled as one strolled along the mall, and noticing how considerately level changes were stitched together with gentle ramps, or thoughtfully interfaced with timber-like clad benches – all of which added up to a level of detail previously only afforded by more recent, higher-budget developments. While the introduction of shade, improvements to mobility, and a softening of hardscapes with green elements are typically welcomed, I begin to wonder if there is value in making the necessary practical improvements while preserving the aesthetics of the heartland, derived arguably “organically” through the passage of time: exposed brick, garish or pastel-coloured paint jobs, stainless steel handrails, etc.

On one hand, we have nostalgia as novelty, and this has rapidly been commodified and capitalized upon in innumerable ways; on the other, we have an incessant desire for newness, and if something has been improved upon, it must look “new.” Circling back to the challenge faced when updating a place that is well-used and loved, perhaps one of the core parameters at play is defining the attitude of which the intervention is deployed. While Ang Mo Kio chose the latter, it is not difficult for one to imagine how the preservation of pre-existing material familiarity while incorporating the necessary improvements could be an approach that better answers to the perennial question of identity and increasing appetite for nostalgia in the context of ever-changing Singapore.

Sean Chia is an architect, writer, and photographer exploring the fundamental relationship between people and the built environment. Formerly based in Boston, he holds a Master of Architecture from Harvard. Through his writing, Sean reflects on the evolving narratives of urban spaces and the delicate interplay between heritage and modernity.