Latest news with #ChenTianming


NZ Herald
20-07-2025
- General
- NZ Herald
One man and his tower that's a monument to Chen Tianming's determination to live where and how he wants
He climbed lightly up the ladders, past the fifth-floor reading nook and the sixth-floor open-air tearoom. From the ninth floor, he surveyed the sturdy, standardised apartment buildings in the distance where his neighbours live. 'They say the house is shabby, that it could be blown down by wind at any time,' he said — an observation that did not seem altogether far-fetched when I visited him last month. 'But the advantage is that it's conspicuous, a bit eye-catching. People admire it,' he added. 'Other people spend millions, and no one goes to look at their houses.' Chen's house is so unusual that it has lured gawkers and even tourists to his rural corner of Guizhou province, in southwestern China. It evokes a Dr Seuss drawing, or the Burrow in Harry Potter. Many people on Chinese social media have compared it to Howl's Moving Castle. Chen Tianming's house after dark, in Xingyi, China. Photo / Andrea Verdelli, the New York Times To the casual observer, the house may be a mere spectacle, a Frankensteinian oddity. To Chen, it is a monument to his determination to live where — and how — he wants, in defiance of the local government, gossiping neighbours and seemingly even common sense. He began modifying his family home in 2018, when the authorities in the city of Xingyi ordered his village demolished to make way for a resort they planned to build. Chen's parents, farmers who had built the house in the 1980s, thought that the money that officials were offering as compensation for the move was too low and refused to leave. When bulldozers began razing their pomegranate trees anyway, Chen rushed home from Hangzhou, the eastern city where he had been working as a package courier. Along with his brother, Chen Tianliang, he started adding a third floor. At first, the motivation was in part practical: Compensation payment was determined by square footage, and if the house had more floors, they would be entitled to more money. They visited a second-hand building materials market and bought old utility poles and red composite boards — cheaper than the black ones — and hammered, screwed and notched them together into floorboards, walls and supporting columns. Then, Chen, who had long had an amateur interest in architecture, wondered what it would be like to add a fourth floor. His brother and parents thought there was no need, so Chen did it alone. Then, he wondered about a fifth. And a sixth. Chen Tianming looks at his phone in an upper floor bedroom of his house in Xingyi, China. Photo / Andrea Verdelli, the New York Times 'I just suddenly wanted to challenge myself,' he said. 'And every time I completed my own small task or dream, it felt meaningful.' He was also fuelled by resentment towards the Government, which kept serving him with demolition orders and sending officials to pressure his family. By that point, their house was virtually the only one left in the vicinity; his neighbours had all moved into the new apartment buildings about 5km away. (Local officials have maintained to Chinese media that the building is illegal.) Mass expropriations of land, at times by force, have been a widespread phenomenon in China for decades amid the country's modernisation push. The homes of those who do manage to hold out are sometimes called 'nail houses', for how they protrude like nails after the area around them has been cleared. Still, few stick out quite like Chen's. A former mathematics major who dropped out of university because he felt that higher education was pointless, Chen spent years bouncing between cities, working as a calligraphy salesperson, insurance agent, and courier. But he yearned for a more pastoral lifestyle, he said. When he returned to the village in 2018 to help his parents fend off the developers, he decided to stay. 'I don't want my home to become a city. I feel like a guardian of the village,' he said, over noodles with homegrown vegetables that his mother had stir-fried on their traditional brick stove. Distant high-rise residences and colourful lights hanging from one of the floors of Chen Tianming's house, at dusk. Photo / Andrea Verdelli, the New York Times In recent years, the threat of demolition has become less immediate. Chen filed a lawsuit against the local government and the developers, which is still pending. In any case, the proposed resort project stalled after the local government ran out of money. (Guizhou, one of China's poorest and most indebted provinces, is littered with extravagant, unfinished tourism projects.) But Chen has continued building. The house is now a constantly evolving display of his interests and hobbies. On the first floor, Chen hung calligraphy from artists he befriended in Hangzhou. On the fifth, he keeps a pile of faded books, mostly about history, philosophy and psychology. The sixth floor has potted plants and a plank of wood suspended from the ceiling with ropes, like a swing, to hold a mortar and pestle and a teakettle. On the eighth, a gift from an art student who once visited him: a lamp, with the shade made of tiny photographs of his house from different angles. With each floor that he added, he moved his bedroom up, too: 'That's what makes it fun'. His parents and brother sleep on the ground floor and rarely make the vertiginous ascent. Each morning, he inspects the house from top to bottom. To reinforce the fourth and fifth floors, he hauled wooden columns up through the windows with pulleys. He added the buckets of water throughout the house after a storm blew out a fifth-floor wall. Eventually, he tore down most of the walls on the lower floors, so that wind could pass straight through the structure. 'There's a law of increasing entropy,' Chen said. 'This house, if I didn't care for it, would naturally collapse in two years at most.' He added: 'But as long as I'm still standing, it will be too'. Maintenance costs more time than money, he said. He estimated that he had spent a little more than US$20,000 ($33,500) on building materials. He has also spent about US$4000 on lawyers. His family has been, if not enthusiastic about, at least resigned to Chen's whims. His parents are accustomed to curious visitors, at least a few every weekend. His brother came up with the idea of illuminating the house at night with lanterns. Chen Tianming's mother watches TV on the first floor of their house in Xingyi, China. Photo / Andrea Verdelli, the New York Times They have all united against their fellow villagers, who they say accuse them of being nuisances, or greedy. 'Now we just don't go over there,' said Tianliang, Chen's brother. 'There's no need to listen to what they say about us.' In town, some residents said exactly what the Chens predicted they would: that the house would collapse any day; that they were troublemakers. (The local government erected a sign near the house warning of safety hazards.) But others expressed admiration for Chen's creativity. Zhu Zhiyuan, an employee at a local supermarket, said he had been drawn in when passing by on his scooter and had ventured closer for a better look. Still, he had not dared get too close. 'There are people who say it's illegal,' he said. Then he added: 'But if they tore it down, that would be a bit of a shame'. This article originally appeared in The New York Times. Written by: Vivian Wang Photographs by: Andrea Verdelli ©2025 THE NEW YORK TIMES


New York Times
19-07-2025
- General
- New York Times
Tear It Down, They Said. He Just Kept Building.
The structure teeters over fields of knee-high grass, looking like a cross between a camping tent and a giant wedding cake. Eleven stories of dark red wooden rooms, diminishing in size as they ascend, balance atop one another, seemingly held together by only the thicket of cords that stretches from the peak to the ground. Inside feels no less precarious. The ceilings are propped up with repurposed utility poles. Power strips and wires dangle from low-hanging beams. Giant buckets of rainwater help support the weight of the structure. The homemade ladders that connect the floors perch at steep angles, often without handrails at the side. Chen Tianming — the tower's 43-year-old designer, builder and resident — does not need them anyway. He climbed lightly up the ladders, past the fifth-floor reading nook and the sixth-floor open-air tearoom. From the ninth floor, he surveyed the sturdy, standardized apartment buildings in the distance where his neighbors live. 'They say the house is shabby, that it could be blown down by wind at any time,' he said — an observation that did not seem altogether far-fetched when I visited him last month. RUSSIA MONGOLIA Beijing CHINA Hangzhou GUIZHOU INDIA Xingyi MYANMAR 500 MILES By The New York Times Want all of The Times? Subscribe.


The Star
23-06-2025
- The Star
This madcap 10-storey-high rural 'nail home' is attracting visitors in China
Surrounded by the rubble of demolished homes, Chen Tianming's ramshackle tower of faded plyboards and contorted beams juts into the sky in southwestern China, a teetering monument to one man's stubbornness. Authorities razed most of Chen's village in Guizhou province in 2018 to build a lucrative tourist resort in a region known for its spectacular rice paddies and otherworldly mountain landscapes. Chen, 42, refused to leave, and after the project faltered, defied a flurry of demolition notices to build his family's humble stone bungalow higher and higher. He now presides over a bewildering 10-storey, pyramid- shaped warren of rickety staircases, balconies and other add-ons, drawing comparisons in Chinese media to the fantastical creations of legendary Japanese animator Hayao Miyazaki. 'I started building out of practicality, trying to renovate and expand our home,' says Chen. 'I started building out of practicality, trying to renovate and expand our home,' Chen said on a sweltering May afternoon as he climbed ladders and ducked wooden beams in his labyrinthine construction. 'But then it became more of an interest and hobby that I enjoyed,' he said. Chen's obsessive tinkering and lack of building permits continue to draw ire from the local government. The higher floors where he sleeps sway in the wind, and dozens of ropes and cables tether the house to the ground as if the whole thing might one day float away. 'When I'm up here... I get the sense of being a nomad,' Chen said, gazing out at apartment blocks, an airport and distant mountains. 'People often say it's unsafe and should be demolished... but I'll definitely never let anyone tear it down.' Chen, with his house in the background. Nail house Local authorities once had big plans to build an 800-acre (323.7 hectares) tourist resort – including a theatre and artificial lake – on Chen's native soil. They promised to compensate villagers, but Chen's parents refused, and he vowed to help them protect the home his grandfather had built in the 1980s. Even as neighbours moved out and their houses were bulldozed, Chen stayed put, even sleeping alone in the house for two months 'in case (developers) came to knock it down in the night'. Six months later, the resort was cancelled. Virtually alone among the ruined village, Chen was now master of a 'nail house' – a Chinese term for those whose owners dig in and refuse to relocate despite official compensation offers. A quirk of China's rampant development and partial private property laws, nail houses sometimes make headlines for delaying money-spinning construction projects or forcing developers to divert roads or build around shabby older homes. Chen said the house makes many visitors remember their whimsical childhood fantasies. Even as Chen forged ahead, completing the fifth floor in 2019, the sixth in 2022 and the seventh in 2023, he continued to receive threats of demolition. Last August, his home was designated an illegal construction, and he was ordered to destroy everything except the original bungalow within five days. He said he has spent tens of thousands of yuan fighting the notices in court, despite losing several preliminary hearings. But he continues to appeal, and the next hearing has been delayed. 'I'm not worried. Now that there's no one developing the land, there's no need for them to knock the place down,' he said. Chen looking out of a window in his house that has drawn comparisons on Chinese social media to the fantastical creations of Japanese animator Hayao Miyazaki. Tourist attraction In recent years, ironically, Chen's house has begun to lure a steady trickle of tourists itself. On Chinese social media, users describe it as China's strangest nail house, likening it to the madcap buildings in Miyazaki's Studio Ghibli masterpieces Howl's Moving Castle and Spirited Away . As dusk falls, Chen illuminates his home with decorative lanterns, and people gather on the nearby dirt road to admire the scene. 'It's beautiful,' local resident He Diezhen said as she snapped photos. 'If there are no safety issues, it could become an (official) local landmark,' she said. Chen said the house makes many visitors remember their whimsical childhood fantasies. '(People) dream of building a house for themselves with their own hands... but most can't make it happen,' he said. 'I not only thought of it, I made it a reality.' – By SAM DAVIES/AFP


The Sun
17-06-2025
- General
- The Sun
‘World's most stubborn neighbour' builds giant PYRAMID on top of his home after developers demolished village around him
A STUBBORN homeowner turned his humble adobe into a towering pyramid after his village was flattened to create a luxury resort. Chen Tianming, 42, ignored demolition orders and built a 10-storey ramshackle tower in his village in southwestern China. 4 4 4 Chen has spent seven years and over 100,000 yuan (£10,300) building his towering labyrinth, according to AFP. Authorities flattened most of Chen's village in 2018 to make way for an 800-acre luxury resort, complete with a theatre and artificial lake. His hometown of Xingyi, nestled in Guizhou province, is famed for its lush rice paddies and idyllic mountain views. Despite promises of compensation, Chen's parents refused to give up on their home - built by his grandfather in the 1980s - and Chen vowed to protect it. So Chen took a stand, slowly stacking the stone bungalow higher and higher. He now boasts a 10-storey, pyramid-shaped maze of staircases, wooden beams, balconies and improvised add-ons. Chen told AFP: "I started building out of practicality, trying to renovate and expand our home. "But then it became more of an interest and hobby that I enjoyed." His lack of building permits and refusal to obey demolition notices has sparked multiple run-ins with the local government. But Chen claims he does not mind - his worries disappear when he's up in his bungalow, gazing at the mountains and distant buildings. He said: "People often say it's unsafe and should be demolished... but I'll definitely never let anyone tear it down." While the resort project was eventually scrapped, Chen's neighbours had already moved out, their homes razed to the ground. Despite this, Chen says he continues to receive demolition threats. Last August, authorities declared Chen's towering home an illegal construction and ordered him to tear down everything - except the original bungalow - within five days. Chen says he has lost several preliminary hearings and spent tens of thousands of yuan battling the notices in court. He awaits his next hearing. He said: "I'm not worried. Now that there's no one developing the land, there's no need for them to knock the place down. Lighten up with decorative lanterns at night, his house has unsurprisingly become a tourist attraction. Local resident He Diezhen told AFP that she finds the home "beautiful", adding, "if there are no safety issues, it could become an (official) local landmark". Chinese media have compared the whimsical tower to creations made by the legendary Japanese animator Hayao Miyazaki. It comes as another stubborn homeowner built a tall, narrow house to spite his neighbours who tried to get him to sell. Developer John Atkins built the eyebrow-raising structure in Jacksonville, Florida, deliberately to look over neighbours' gardens and block their views. The new owner, Mike Cavanagh, 51, is defiantly proud of the nuisance it has caused.


Daily Mail
17-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Daily Mail
Is THIS the world's most stubborn homeowner? Man refuses to leave home as developer demolishes neighbours' houses... and builds 10 storey pyramid instead
A stubborn homeowner has defied property developers who demolished his neighbours' houses - by refusing to budge and building his own 10-storey tower. Most of Chen Tianming's village in Guizhou province, southwestern China, was razed in 2018 to build a lucrative tourist resort. But the 42-year-old refused to leave and, after the project faltered, ignored a flurry of demolition notices to build his family's humble stone bungalow higher and higher. The higher floors where he sleeps sway in the wind and dozens of ropes and cables tether the house to the ground as if the whole thing might one day float away. Built with faded ply-boards and contorted beams, the teetering structure is a monument to one man's stubbornness. He now presides over a bewildering 10-storey, pyramid-shaped warren of rickety staircases, balconies and other add-ons, drawing comparisons in Chinese media to the fantastical creations of legendary Japanese animator Hayao Miyazaki. 'I started building out of practicality, trying to renovate and expand our home,' Chen explained while climbing ladders and ducking wooden beams in his labyrinthine construction. 'But then it became more of an interest and hobby that I enjoyed,' he said. 'People often say it's unsafe and should be demolished... but I'll definitely never let anyone tear it down.' Local authorities once had big plans to build an 800-acre tourist resort - including a theatre and artificial lake - in the region known for its spectacular rice paddies and otherworldly mountain landscapes. They promised to compensate villagers but Chen's parents refused and he vowed to help them protect the home his grandfather had built in the 1980s. While neighbours moved out and their houses were bulldozed, Chen stayed put, even sleeping alone in the house for two months 'in case [developers] came to knock it down in the night'. Six months later, like many development projects in highly indebted Guizhou, the resort was cancelled. Virtually alone among the ruined village, Chen was now master of a 'nail house' - a Chinese term for those whose owners dig in and refuse to relocate despite official compensation offers. A quirk of China's rampant development and partial private property laws, nail houses sometimes make headlines for delaying money-spinning construction projects or forcing developers to divert roads or build around shabby older homes. Even as Chen forged ahead, completing the fifth floor in 2019, the sixth in 2022 and the seventh in 2023, he continued to receive threats of demolition. Last August, his home was designated an illegal construction, and he was ordered to destroy everything except the original bungalow within five days. He said he has spent thousands of pounds fighting the notices in court, despite losing several preliminary hearings. But he continues to appeal and the next hearing has been delayed. 'I'm not worried. Now that there's no one developing the land, there's no need for them to knock the place down,' he said. In recent years, ironically, Chen's house has begun to lure a steady trickle of tourists itself. On Chinese social media, users describe it as China's strangest nail house, likening it to the madcap buildings in Miyazaki's Studio Ghibli masterpieces 'Howl's Moving Castle' and 'Spirited Away'. When dusk falls, Chen illuminates his home with decorative lanterns, and people gather on the nearby dirt road to admire the scene. 'It's beautiful,' local resident He Diezhen said, 'if there are no safety issues, it could become an [official] local landmark'. Chen said the house makes many visitors remember their whimsical childhood fantasies. '[People] dream of building a house for themselves with their own hands... but most can't make it happen,' he said. 'I not only thought of it, I made it a reality.'