Balancing Modernity & History: A Talk with Yushan Jiang

I am Yushan Jiang, a Brooklyn-based architectural designer, currently working for SHoP Architects in New York. My work focuses on the subtle interplay between culture, nature, and the built environment. I believe architecture is a manifesto of the mundane and the representation of the transcendent.

My journey into design was shaped by an early fascination with the way spaces influence human experiences. Growing up, I was drawn to the contrasts between historical and modern architecture, and this curiosity led me to study urban planning at Tongji University before pursuing my Master of Architecture at Yale. Through my education and practice, I have come to see architecture not just as a means of construction but as a way to question, critique, and reshape the world around us.

Being recognised in the French Design Awards is a significant milestone in my architectural journey. It reinforces my confidence in pursuing architecture as a profession and pushes the boundaries of my work even further. I am honoured to have received other awards under IAA, including the MUSE Design Awards, London Design Awards, and NY Architectural Design Awards.

But winning the Design of the Year from the French Design Awards definitely holds special meaning to me. I am deeply grateful for the opportunity and recognition, and I look forward to using this momentum to engage in more ambitious and socially impactful projects.

Experimentation is at the core of my creative process—it allows me to stay loose and live with uncertainties; specifically, it helps me to challenge conventions, explore unexpected possibilities, and refine ideas through iteration.

One way I incorporate experimentation is through designing vignettes in all of my projects. Before envisioning the full architectural composition, I begin by imagining a single, intimate moment—captured through a sketch, a physical model, or photography. This process allows me to momentarily step outside conventional design frameworks and follow my instincts, focusing on the essence of space, light, and materiality. These vignettes serve as conceptual anchors, guiding the larger design process and ensuring that the final execution remains true to the initial vision.

Moisture. One of the most unusual sources of inspiration I’ve drawn from was the humidity—or rather, its absence. In my early project Thermal Retreat, I proposed integrating a bathing program within an institutional building, an idea sparked by the dry climate of the local environment. Rather than treating this condition as a constraint, I saw an opportunity to reimagine the role of the space.

By introducing the bathing program, the project not only gained economic benefits—transforming the library from a seasonal destination into a year-round retreat—but also acquired a new spatial sensitivity.

The interplay of moisture, temperature, and materiality created a dynamic contrast between the two programs, enriched by the way light and shadow interacted with the shifting atmosphere of the baths. This juxtaposition added depth to the experience, challenging conventional notions of institutional architecture while responding poetically to the environmental context.

The most significant challenge in working on my award-winning design, Divided Unity, was finding the most powerful and concise way to articulate the form on a 3D surface. I aimed to fuse multiple geometries together in a clean, strong articulation, but it took considerable time and effort to figure out how to make it work seamlessly. While I was always clear on the overarching vision for the project, the process of refining the design and making the elements come together was a journey of trial and error.

There were numerous rounds of attempts, each accompanied by moments of failure, but those setbacks were valuable learning experiences. Through careful iterations, I was able to adjust both the form and the material approach until the final result was achieved. The satisfaction of seeing the vision come together after so much effort was incredibly rewarding, and the design now feels both cohesive and powerful.

When I hit a creative block, I typically step away from the project and shift my focus to something completely unrelated. Whether it’s going for a walk, watching a movie, or reading a book, these activities allow my mind to reset. Sometimes, the breakthrough moment comes when I’m not actively thinking about the problem and can just let go of the tension.

And honestly, sometimes I just cry.

Gordon Matta-Clark. His work is radical, advanced, and straightforward, where he anticipated the agency of design through recomposition and reconfiguration. While his projects may appear to be about demolition and transformation, I see a deep subtlety in them.

He captured the intangible relationships between disparate identities through dramatic interventions, challenging our perceptions of space and identity. I would love to understand how he read and interpreted these unspoken narratives through the act of making—how he transformed something seemingly unrelated into a profound statement.