Discover Singapore’s Vibrant Shop-Houses

The long-neglected architectural jewels, dating back to the 19th Century, are now being celebrated and restored to their former splendor.

When my wife and I moved to Singapore last year for her new job, I expected to be traveling into the future. On previous visits, Singapore’s famously efficient airport, Changi, had seemed like the principal node of a gleaming network of expressways, subway lines, and skyscrapers, all designed to optimize the flow of people and capital. It is a place where your car automatically pays for parking, where traffic lights are controlled by artificial intelligence, and where the cityscape is gilded with ever more fantastical architectural forms. Marina Bay Sands, a triple-towered hotel and casino, is capped by a horizontal sky garden resembling a marooned spaceship. Gardens by the Bay, the park next door that had a starring role in Crazy Rich Asians, is dominated by a cluster of towering metal trees that look like they were designed by a robot with a taste for horticulture.

However, upon my arrival, I found myself immersed in history. We moved into an apartment in Joo Chiat, a neighborhood on the city-state’s eastern coast that was developed in the 1920s. Our apartment is in a shop-house, a style of building imported by Chinese settlers in the early 19th century that formed the warp and weft of the city’s architectural fabric for over a hundred years. The design is straightforward: shop-houses were built two or three stories high, featuring businesses on the ground floor and living spaces upstairs. Out front were covered verandas called “five foot ways,” open to create shaded colonnades. Inside, light wells with clear views of the sky formed miniature courtyards brightened by the sun and cooled by the rain.

Our shop-house was built between the two world wars and, with its simple white façade, has an elegant austerity. The same cannot be said for others around the corner. On my way to get my morning coffee, I walk down Joo Chiat Road, the district’s main thoroughfare, lined with shop-houses adorned with Corinthian pilasters, stucco leaves, and grids of colored tiles depicting pomegranates, peaches, pineapples, peacocks, and hummingbirds.

On weekends, we often enjoy breakfast at Mr. and Mrs. Mohgan’s, a stall known for Singapore’s finest roti prata, a fried Indian flatbread. Diagonally opposite the stall, a one-block stretch of Koon Seng Road features grand old shop-houses painted in Instagram-friendly shades of pink, pistachio, emerald, and primrose. Beneath the upstairs windows, herons flap their wings and tigers hunt their prey, forever captured in plaster relief.

If Singapore once seemed like a city intent on replacing the past with the future, it is now taking a backward glance. Shop-houses serve as records of Singapore’s multicultural history. After its founding in 1819 by British politician and empire builder Stamford Raffles, the city flourished into a powerful entrepôt, attracting merchants and traders from around the globe. They brought their architectural tastes and left their mark on the shop-houses they inhabited. The dwellings in Joo Chiat were constructed by Peranakans, individuals of mixed Chinese and Malay descent who settled in Singapore, creating a culture rich in Chinese, Malaysian, Indonesian, and European influences. Elsewhere in the city, you can find shop-houses exhibiting Islamic latticework, rococo curlicues, Dutch gables, and French shutters.

The richness of these buildings did not align with my preconceived notions, which I quickly recognized as outdated. Although more than 50 percent of Singapore’s old city was demolished by the march of modernity between the 1970s and 90s, many contemporary developments appear flavorless and lack uniqueness. However, the past decade has seen Singapore enter a more preservationist phase, with shop-houses being restored and renovated throughout the city—some even fetching astonishing prices.

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Simon Monteiro, a local realtor specializing in historic buildings, likens this boom to an art-market bubble: “People are buying them like Picassos.” If Singapore initially appeared intent on superseding the past with the future, it is now taking a notable backward glance.

Recently, I met Jimmy Seah, a dynamic man in his mid-fifties, who owns a shop-house on Spottiswoode Park Road, just north of Chinatown. This street forms part of Blair Plain, a district developed in the 19th and early 20th centuries by local merchants, known as towkays. To showcase their refined tastes and outshine their European counterparts, these merchants constructed some of the most impressive shop-houses in Singapore, incorporating various international styles. Several even possess loggias on their top floors, reminiscent of a Venetian palazzo.

Seah purchased his house in 2009, and initially, it struck him as unremarkable. Modest and plain, it had broken shutters, a deteriorating white façade, and a collapsed roof. Nevertheless, as he began to remove the plaster covering the front of the building, he discovered layers of color beneath—first blue, followed by flecks of red and green. Through two months of meticulous chiseling, these traces formed an image of birds on branches, accompanied by faded reddish-brown shapes that Seah believes originally depicted a cloud of bats in flight.

This fresco dates back to the 1860s, making it not only the oldest painted shop-house façade in Singapore but also the last remaining piece from a time when, according to one French visitor in 1831, all shop-houses were “covered with brightly colored frescoes.” The mundane building Seah had acquired transformed into a unique piece of architectural history and a glimpse into Singapore’s beginnings.

In the 1960s, when Seah was growing up in a shop-house, Singapore had just gained independence from Malaysia and was a struggling island in disrepair. To maintain affordable housing, the government enforced strict rent controls, which resulted in landlords lacking both the resources and motivation to preserve their properties. Seah’s family was crammed into a series of tiny rooms, with constant leaks from the roof sometimes repaired by makeshift guttering fashioned from shuttlecock canisters. “My sisters and I would complain,” he recounted. “Why do we have to live in this rundown house?”

Consequently, they welcomed the government’s initiatives during the 1970s and 80s to demolish such properties in favor of new condo towers and public housing. “Lee Kuan Yew, the founder of modern Singapore, had a great vision,” Seah stated. “You must provide people with a roof over their heads before you can consider other developments.”

Nonetheless, some believed that the concentration on growth and efficiency stripped away the essence of Singapore, leading to a reputation for corporate blandness. Visiting in the 1990s, sci-fi author William Gibson noted that “the physical past, here, has almost entirely vanished.” The contemporary facade that emerged felt reminiscent of Disneyland.

However, a few historically minded officials at Singapore’s Urban Redevelopment Authority (URA), responsible for city planning, began to worry that the destruction was excessive—that Singapore risked erasing its identity. They commenced slowly acquiring shop-houses around the city to safeguard them from developers, then selling them to preservation-minded owners.

Around the corner from Seah’s shop-house lies one of the most impressive results of this preservationist trend. The Baba House is a restored shop-house operating as a museum. Built in the 1880s by the Wee family, who prospered in shipping, the house was safeguarded by the URA in the 1980s, but by the early 2000s, it stood unoccupied and in disrepair.

In 2006, it was acquired by the National University of Singapore, whose architects and historians undertook extensive renovations. They discovered traces of original paint beneath subsequent layers, returning the building to its original vibrant blue. They also recreated the ceramic appliqué cockerel that once adorned the entrance and restored plaster panels depicting phoenixes and peonies, symbolizing happy lovers.

For the interior, they sourced authentic furniture, much of which came from the Wee family, including heirlooms like a wooden wedding bed, intricately carved and gilded. The Baba House became a showcase of meticulous restoration, paving the way for the popularity of similar buildings.

Koon Seng Road features grand old shop-houses painted in inviting shades of pink, pistachio, emerald, and primrose.

Few locations in Singapore exemplify the shop-house renaissance better than Keong Saik Road. Until the late 1990s, this area was known as a red-light district. Its streets are lined almost entirely with shop-houses, but due to a lack of interest, owners were forced to rent to the only tenants they could find: brothels and massage parlors.

Today, Keong Saik Road has undergone thorough gentrification and is celebrated for a different kind of hospitality, showcasing a variety of chic bars, restaurants, and hotels. KeSa House is a boutique hotel owned by Ashish Manchharam, who also owns four other shop-house hotels in the city, with more in the pipeline. Manchharam spent his childhood in a shop-house in Kampong Glam, where his grandfather established a successful textile firm. By the late 2000s, Manchharam, now in real estate, had already converted shop-houses into studios for emerging fashion designers in need of workspace. However, tourism experienced significant growth—between 2005 and 2018, the visitor count to Singapore doubled—and he identified a market for guests eager to experience the charm of the old world rather than the city’s dazzling novelties.

KeSa House, like Manchharam’s other hotels, represents a fascinating reinvention. The exterior has been meticulously preserved; the pilasters and swags stand out in bright white against turquoise walls. However, the interior has been transformed into a modern, minimalistic space—filled with pale wood and polished concrete. This practice of “façadism,” where the exterior acts as historical gloss on an otherwise contemporary experience, has drawn criticism from some who believe it diminishes the buildings’ original essence.

Nevertheless, the fundamental shop-house design has proven remarkably adaptable: KeSa House faces Potato Head, a three-story restaurant and club that commenced in 2014. Located on an angled corner, it resides in a striking Art Deco shop-house, reminiscent of a 1930s white cruise liner. Examples of Bauhaus and Brutalist architecture are also visible in the vicinity. Shop-houses have always adapted to the times, reflecting current architectural trends.

A few days after my meeting with Jimmy Seah, I returned to Blair Plain for a conversation with Fang Low, a 32-year-old entrepreneur overseeing a company known as Figment. Low’s family has been amassing shop-houses for over two decades, and under the Figment brand, he now commissions Singaporean architects and designers to transform them into upscale “co-living spaces,” echoing the multi-family residences of the past. “It’s akin to how shop-houses used to function,” he explained, “with multiple families sharing the same building.”

I met him at 28 Blair Road, once his childhood home, which now serves as his latest project. Above an ornate pair of traditional shop-house doors, or pintu pagar, lies a panel bearing the Chinese characters for “Low Family Residence.” Inside, the house is entirely white: white walls, white floors, white furniture, white-painted porcelain on a white shelf, and white ceiling lamps crafted by a local artist from recycled plastic wrap. While exploring the house, glimpses of history can be seen in small areas where bare brick is exposed or in tiny spots on a porcelain pot where the original decoration has been preserved—fleeting reminders of the rich past that lies beneath the new interior. This reflects the evolution of Singapore itself.

How to Experience Singapore’s Unique Shop-Houses

Stay

KeSa House (doubles from $100) in Chinatown occupies a row of shop-houses from the 1920s. Its 60 compact rooms feature bright, contemporary interiors; some include private roof terraces.

Eat

The Michelin-starred Zén (tasting menu $320), located in a shop-house in Bukit Pasoh, stands as the most exclusive restaurant in Singapore. With space for only about 15 guests, it offers an eight-course tasting menu blending Scandinavian and Asian flavors.

For a more casual option, visit Potato Head (entrées $10–$25), an elevated burger joint with a rooftop bar, housed in a corner shop-house reminiscent of a ship’s prow.

Learn

Part of the National University of Singapore, Baba House is a restored shop-house featuring exhibits dedicated to Peranakan culture. Jane’s Tours conducts guided architectural tours of Singapore, incorporating several shop-houses in itineraries covering Emerald Hill, Chinatown, and Joo Chiat. Tours typically last half a day and cost $55 per person.

Plan

For custom-tailored guided tours, consider consulting a travel advisor who specializes in Singapore. They can design a visit that encompasses the unique offerings of the city.