The Old‑School Craftsman of Shanghai
Meet Master Ma, a 57‑year‑old grandfather who dedicates his days to rescuing Shanghai’s forgotten façades. While the city lights up in glass towers, it still remembers its past as a cosmopolitan port, where French villas, Edwardian mansions, and Art Deco gems once bled the streets. The preservation drive is real, and Ma is its very hands‑on ambassador.
From Bicycle to Barnacle‑Handed Tools
Ma pedals through the north‑east Hongkou district, clutching stacks of old woodworking tools to his handlebars. He’s earned the nickname “Master Ma” because locals can’t say Shanghai without his gentle tinkering. As he sets up shop on a century‑old house that could masquerade as a London suburb, he sighs, “If Shanghai only had skyscrapers, it’d lose its soul.”
- Why the antique gear? Ma hates modern, electric tools that could scar the delicate arches, tall ceilings, and luxurious tiled fireplaces his predecessors prized.
- The craft is memory‑laden. Without blueprints, he relies on instinct to fit new door frames into the faded grandeur—a living testament to the art that once filled these streets.
- His mantra. “What machines produce feels cold. My job is to keep the human touch alive.”
Singapore? No—Little Tokyo?
Once dubbed “Little Tokyo,” Hongkou housed Japanese families entirely. Now, waves of “ramshackle” apartments have wrapped around a former Japanese mansion. Master Ma’s project—re‑covering its original charm—spotlights his belief that history deserves a second glance.
Balancing Old‑World Charm with a Modern Secret Society
Ma’s daily life is a tug‑of‑war between the old and the political. He’s a proud member of the state’s ruling Communist Party and runs a state‑owned property‑management firm. After the 70‑year socialist era transformed the city’s built‑environment mythology, Shanghai is finally catching up, yet its historic gems still suffer from underfunded, haphazard repairs. Ma calls out a budget shortfall: “We patch windows and wood frames, but big problems need bigger budgets.”
Future‑Proofing the Past
Three years down the line, Ma hopes to hand off his knowledge to a younger generation. However, with only four carpenters per 10,000 residents in his neighborhood, and wages that barely beat Shanghai’s average, apprenticeship is a slippery slope. Adding a quick fact‑check: a modest 50‑square‑meter apartment he worked on recently sold for five million yuan, a price that could put Shanghai next to London’s central real‑estate markets.
“I’d gladly teach newbies the trade, but finding those wanting to carve a legacy is proving harder than any one of my apprenticeships.”
Expressing grave concern: “After a few years, no one will inherit these skills, and the preservation work will falter.”
Bottom Line: A City that’s Still Learning How to Love Its Past
Master Ma’s universe is a blend of old‑world wonder and the cool, crisp irony of modern deadlines. His message? Let’s cherish Shanghai’s aesthetic heritage – not just the glass crown, but the stories carried by street‑layered bricks, aging windows, and the human hands that once maintained them.
