Roofs on the Bund: A Walk Along the Architectural Facade
Early morning on the Bund smells of water and freshly brewed tea from nearby stalls. The light falls at an angle that makes the roofs across the river – in Pudong – look like paper cutouts. But I’m standing here, my back to the futuristic towers, looking at something completely different: a row of buildings that still remember Shanghai’s twenties, thirties, and forties. Roofs that survived war, revolution, economic boom, and millions of tourists. Architecture that doesn’t shout, but speaks.
The Bund – the Huangpu waterfront – isn’t a museum. It’s living urban fabric housing banks, hotels, restaurants, and offices. And above them: roofs. Flat, mansard, decorated with balustrades, crowned with domes and turrets. Each one different, each telling something about its time and the people who designed it.
When Europe Built in China
I start my walk from the southern end of the Bund, where crowds haven’t arrived yet. The first building that catches my eye is the former McBain Building – now a hotel. Flat roof, surrounded by a stone balustrade, with small attic structures at the corners. Nothing spectacular, but the proportions are perfect. A classic example of 1920s neoclassicism: symmetry, restraint, noble materials.
I stop at the entrance to a small tea shop. Behind the counter stands an elderly man who – as it turns out – has worked here for thirty years.
“These roofs? Most were renovated, but they didn’t change,” he says, pouring my tea. “See that balustrade? It’s not decoration. People used to go up on the roofs in the evenings to catch the cool breeze from the river. Nobody goes there now, but the balustrades remain.”
This is important information. The Bund’s roofs weren’t designed merely as facade crowns – they had function. In Shanghai’s climate, where summers can be stifling, accessible flat roofs served as additional living space. Today, with air conditioning and sealed windows, that function has disappeared. But the form remains.
The Roof as a Crown: A Bank That Wanted to Be a Palace
I continue north and stand before the former headquarters of the Hongkong and Shanghai Banking Corporation – now the Pudong Development Bank. It’s one of the most famous buildings on the Bund, and its roof tells its own story. Mansard-style, clad in copper that has developed a greenish patina over time. At the top – a domed cupola with a lantern, surrounded by columns.
The building was completed in 1923 and cost as much as an entire province’s annual budget. The architect – British firm Palmer & Turner – wanted it to look like a blend of palace and temple. The roof was meant to emphasize the institution’s prestige: solidity, permanence, international character.
I examine the details. The gutters are brass, adorned with reliefs. The roof pitch is steep – a typically European choice, even though snow is rare in Shanghai. Why design it this way? Because the bank needed to look familiar to British and American clients. The roof was a calling card: “we’re from there, but we operate globally.”
Talking with a guide leading a group of Japanese tourists, I learn that during the 1990s renovation, they considered replacing the roofing with modern materials, but ultimately decided to reconstruct the copper roof – identical to the original. The cost? Several times higher. But the result is irreplaceable: the patina, texture, and the way light reflects off the surface.
What Does This Mean for Today’s Investor?
Choosing a roofing material isn’t just about budget. It’s a question of how the building will look in ten, twenty, fifty years. Copper darkens but doesn’t rust. Metal tile may be cheaper upfront, but requires maintenance and loses color. The Bund roof demonstrates that material authenticity translates to durability – not just technical, but aesthetic as well.
When the Roof Must Be Invisible
Another building: the former headquarters of the Chartered Bank of India, Australia and China. Here the roof is flat, hidden behind a tall parapet. From street level, it’s completely invisible. The facade ends with a cornice, and above that – nothing. At least from a pedestrian’s perspective.
I go inside (the building now houses offices and an art gallery) and ask the security guard if I can access the roof. I can’t. But she shows me an old photo from the 1930s, revealing that the roof was once functional: water tanks stood there, ventilation equipment, and wooden deck chairs along the edge.
“It used to be a place for bank employees,” she says. “Now there are only air conditioning units up there.”
This illustrates a shift in function. In the pre-air conditioning era, flat roofs in warm climates served as terraces, rest areas, sometimes even gardens. Today they’re technical spaces – invisible, yet crucial for interior comfort.
For designers and investors, this is an important lesson: flat roofs require waterproofing, proper slope (though we call them “flat,” they must have at least 2-3% pitch), effective drainage and – often overlooked – regular maintenance. The Bund buildings have survived because they had solid foundations, but also because their roofs were regularly inspected and repaired.
The Detail That Makes the Difference
Toward the end of my walk, I notice something that previously escaped my attention: many roofs feature small turrets, lanterns, or cupolas. They serve no structural purpose. They’re pure decoration. And yet – they change everything.
I stop at the former Bank of Communications building. A mansard roof covered in dark tiles, and at the summit – an octagonal lantern with a gilded spire. It gleams like treasure in the sunlight.
Why does this work? Because the roof is no longer just a covering – it becomes a landmark, a marker in the city’s skyline. In 1920s Shanghai, when most buildings were low-rise, such accents were visible from afar. Today, in the shadow of Pudong’s skyscrapers, these details carry different meaning: they recall human scale, craftsmanship precision, times when construction was slower, but built to last.
What Can We Apply to Our Projects?
- Proportion over size: Bund buildings aren’t tall, but they’re well-composed. The roof forms a harmonious crown to the structure.
- Material matters: copper, stone, ceramic – these are materials that age with dignity. Plastics can’t do that.
- Function hidden in form: balustrades, parapets, lanterns – they’re not mere ornaments. They once served people, today they can house installations or simply – serve aesthetics.
- Maintenance is investment: buildings that survived a century didn’t do it alone. Someone repaired them, maintained them, modernized them – with respect for the original.
What Remains After the Walk
I return to my starting point, passing crowds of tourists photographing the Pudong skyline. But this time I see differently. I notice not just facades, but what crowns them. Bund roofs aren’t the most modern, they don’t have solar panels or green gardens. But they have something else: coherence, durability, and history that remains alive.
For anyone planning to build a home, this lesson is simple: the roof isn’t an add-on. It’s part of the story about who you are and how you want to live. You can hide it, showcase it, embellish it, or leave it raw. But you can’t ignore it. Because what’s overhead affects everything below: comfort, quiet, light, and the sense that your home is truly yours.
Shanghai shows that good roofs survive revolutions. The question is: will yours survive everyday life?
