Building The Soundscapes Archive: A Dialogue with Rui Wang & Arving Wu

It’s truly meaningful for us. Being recognised by the London Design Awards feels like a celebration of the time, care, and creative energy we poured into The Soundscapes Archive. It reminds us that thoughtful, emotionally driven work can still resonate in today’s fast-paced design world.

This award isn’t just a milestone. It’s a moment of reflection and encouragement. It shows that the stories we aim to tell through design have the power to connect with others, and that’s what drives us the most.

We’re incredibly grateful for this recognition, and it motivates us to keep exploring new ideas, taking creative risks, and creating work that speaks from the heart.

Winning the London Design Awards has been both energising and encouraging for us. It reinforced that our creative vision resonates beyond just our immediate circles, and that’s been really validating.

Since the recognition, more people have reached out including designers, storytellers, and potential collaborators interested in the concept behind The Soundscapes Archive. It’s sparked new conversations and helped us connect with a broader creative community.

More importantly, it’s strengthened our drive to keep experimenting and telling stories that feel personal and layered. This award feels like a step forward that not just in our careers, but in the kind of work we want to keep making.

Experimentation is a big part of how we work and it’s where many of our ideas really take shape. We see it as a way to challenge assumptions, test new materials, and explore unexpected directions. It keeps our process open and alive.

When working on The Soundscapes Archive, we spent a lot of time exploring how to translate the emotional quality of sound into something physical. One of the more hands-on parts was developing the vinyl packaging. We tried different textures, printing methods, and finishes to reflect the feeling of sound—its imperfections, warmth, and rhythm. That tactile process helped us find a visual language that felt true to the story we were telling.

For us, experimentation isn’t about being random, but about being curious and intentional. Some of our favourite outcomes have come from letting go of control and allowing the process to surprise us.

For The Soundscapes Archive, one of the more unexpected sources of inspiration was actually the way memory works, like how it fades, distorts, and occasionally returns with surprising clarity. That idea really shaped how we thought about sound, especially the imperfections you hear on vinyl records—the static, the crackles, the little moments in between notes.

We also started paying attention to everyday sounds, things like footsteps on gravel, wind through trees, or distant chatter. On their own, they might seem unremarkable, but together they carry a kind of emotional weight. They became part of the project’s atmosphere and helped inform the textures and mood of our design.

It was a reminder that inspiration doesn’t always come from something grand. It can come from something you hear when you’re not even paying attention.

We wish more people realised that design goes way beyond just making something look good. It’s about telling a story, creating emotion, and solving problems in a thoughtful way. There’s a lot of exploration, back-and-forth, and even failure involved before you ever reach the final version.

With The Soundscapes Archive, we weren’t just focused on visuals. We were trying to translate ideas like memory and time into a physical form. That meant obsessing over tiny details: textures, materials, pacing, colour choices. Most of it probably feels subtle to others, but together those choices are what make the design feel alive and emotionally grounded.

Design is rarely instant. It’s layered, intentional, and often deeply personal. That’s the part we hope more people can see and appreciate.

With The Soundscapes Archive, we weren’t working with a traditional client. It was a self-initiated project, which gave us the space to fully explore our own ideas without needing to follow a set brief. That kind of creative freedom is rare, and we really tried to use it to push boundaries and dive deep into what the work meant to us.

Even without external expectations, we still had to find our own balance between staying true to our concept and making sure it could emotionally connect with others. We kept asking ourselves things like, “Is this honest?” and “Does this feel like us?” That became our internal compass.

When we do work with clients, we try to bring that same mindset, listening carefully, but also making sure the core message stays meaningful and authentic. It’s not always easy, but that’s where the best work happens.

One of the biggest challenges was figuring out how to bring such an abstract idea—the connection between sound, memory, and life—into a visual and physical form. We weren’t just designing a package; we were trying to capture a feeling. Making sure every choice, from textures to typography, carried emotional weight took a lot of intention (and a lot of trial and error).

Another challenge was staying focused while still leaving room to experiment. There were so many creative directions we wanted to explore, and at times it was hard to know when to pull back. What helped was constantly going back to our core concept. We’d ask ourselves: “Does this still tell the story we’re trying to tell?” That question kept us grounded. In the end, it wasn’t about avoiding challenges, it was about leaning into them. Every obstacle pushed us to think deeper and make the work more honest and layered.

When we feel stuck creatively, the first thing we try to do is step away for a bit. Shifting focus, whether it’s going outside, watching a film, or just listening to unfamiliar sounds, can help clear our minds and bring in new perspectives. During The Soundscapes Archive, we found that tuning into the everyday actually gave us fresh angles to explore. Sometimes the smallest details spark the biggest ideas.

Talking things out with each other also helps a lot. Even random conversations often lead to unexpected creative threads. We’ve learned that creativity can’t be forced. It usually shows up when we give it room to breathe.

At the core of our work is a shared belief that design should make people feel something. We’re drawn to themes like memory, time, and identity. Things that are often hard to define but deeply human. Those personal reflections shape the way we approach every project. We also value storytelling. For us, good design isn’t just about how something looks, but how it speaks visually, emotionally, and conceptually. We try to turn abstract ideas into experiences you can actually connect with.

Whether it’s through a quiet detail or a bold gesture, we want our work to hold meaning. Each project becomes a way for us to translate inner thoughts into something others can step into and feel for themselves.

Stay curious, stay open, and don’t be afraid to take creative risks. Some of the most meaningful work comes from trying something that feels uncertain at first.

Design is always evolving, so keep exploring new tools, new ideas, new perspectives. At the same time, develop your voice as a storyteller. Whether you’re designing a poster or building a full brand system, the emotional impact is what makes it memorable.

And most importantly, don’t design in a bubble. Collaborate, ask for feedback, share your process. You’ll grow faster, make better work, and enjoy the journey a whole lot more.

We’re always inspired by people who bring curiosity, intention, and a strong creative voice, whether they’re industry legends or emerging talents. For us, great collaboration comes from shared energy, openness, and a desire to tell meaningful stories.

If we had to name someone, Kenya Hara would be a dream collaborator. His philosophy around emptiness, simplicity, and sensory experience really resonates with how we approach design. His work reminds us that design can be quiet yet deeply powerful.

At the same time, we’re just as excited to work with creatives who challenge norms and bring fresh, personal perspectives. That’s the kind of collaboration that pushes boundaries and keeps the process meaningful.

We wish more people would ask, “What do you want people to feel when they experience your work?”

Because for us, design is not just about how something looks, but about how it makes someone pause, remember, or reflect. Every choice we make, from layout to texture to pacing, is guided by the kind of emotional response we hope to create.

We want our work to feel personal, even if it’s abstract. If someone walks away from a project feeling something, nostalgia, calm, curiosity etc., then we’ve done our job. That emotional connection is what we’re always chasing.