Articles by Jonathan Yeung

How do societies support and nurture emerging architects? Young architects are heavily influenced by their formal education and initial exposure to the industry. Various organizational systems across regions, whether passive through environmental factors or active via tangible benefits, are in place to assist them in entering the field. However, it’s worth questioning how often we reflect on these established support systems. Are they effective in fostering well-rounded professionals, or do they unintentionally reinforce certain biases in how architecture is practiced?

In Delirious New York, Rem Koolhaas vividly discusses the Downtown Athletic Club, a striking example of how an unassuming building exterior can conceal a vibrant mix of distinct, self-contained programs. Inside the uniform facade of this skyscraper, a private athletic club hosts an eclectic range of facilities—boxing gyms next to oyster bars and interior golf ranges below swimming pools—all segregated yet highly accessible. The Downtown Athletic Club epitomized the dynamism of New York’s skyscrapers at the time, showcasing the thrill of capitalism through a selective, inward-focused world of leisure and privilege for the selected. This “machine of programs” operated independently of the external city as an isolated ecosystem within its walls. Yet, one might ask: could a similar model, designed for public use, create a more inclusive, lively community and neighborhood experience? This will activate the building within, instead of only serving the selected elites, and influence and transform the urban fabric and shapes around the building. In Hong Kong, a distant parallel can be drawn with the Municipal Services Buildings (MSBs)—publicly-funded structures that serve the community by integrating diverse functions within a singular vast building mass, much like the Downtown Athletic Club.

Two primary building approaches are commonly identified in architecture and design: solid versus hollow construction. These methods vary significantly across different cultures and regions, specifically for interior partitioning systems, when they appear interchangeable. Each has its own established practices influenced by local materials, labor preferences, climatic conditions, and cultural traditions. When architects and designers focus on their local context, it is easy to overlook the broader construction assumptions, limiting design flexibility and methodology. This raises an important question: How do these two building approaches differ?

In recent years, continuous material finishes enveloping interior spaces have become increasingly prominent, particularly in branding-focused retail environments. A continuous interior refers to using what are typically liquid-applied materials that are cured to create seamless, uninterrupted surfaces, eliminating the appearance of joints and seams—at least during the initial application. A growing range of products now offer various color options, textures, and practical properties, making these finishes more versatile. Interestingly, the aesthetic effect of such interiors is uncanny to the rise of 3D rendering software, where the seamless, fluid look mirrors the smooth, idealized spaces typical of digital renderings. This effect also contributes to a sense of scalelessness, as the absence of visible seams or joints makes it harder to discern the actual size of a space, often giving the illusion that the interior is larger than it is.

With escalating land values in urban centers, there has been a growing trend to float public spaces from ground level to elevated locations, such as rooftops or podiums between buildings. From a development perspective, maximizing floor area has become crucial as urban environments expand. Ground-level spaces are highly sought after for retail use due to their strategic location, which attracts foot traffic and potential customers and drives city development and economics.

Large-scale infrastructure projects often aim to connect distant locations within urban areas, facilitating quicker transportation, logistics, and commercial activities along their routes. However, while these projects link distant destinations, their substantial physical presence can significantly affect local communities. This may result in the disconnection and disengagement of previously connected neighborhoods, the disruption of public spaces, and generally negative outdoor experiences caused by noise, pollution, and lack of attention and maintenance to these infrastructures.

Over-providing traditionally implies offering more than is necessary, often carrying a negative connotation due to the potential for excess and waste. However, could there be scenarios within the built environment where over-providing proves advantageous? The question critically examines how overprovisioning might enhance a building’s flexibility and adaptability to diverse and evolving conditions.

Bauhaus’s designs have influenced our contemporary society in obvious and subtle ways. Iconic examples include Marcel Breuer’s Wassily Chair, the B55 Chair, the Bauhaus typeface, and the graphic design principles emphasizing clean lines, primary colors, and geometric shapes. However, the architectural construction details of the Bauhaus movement are much less discussed. While most can readily identify modern or Bauhaus buildings by their geometric forms, functionality, and industrial materials, their architectural details are often overlooked. They not only echo the design language of Breuer’s renowned furniture pieces but also have influenced the much-celebrated architectural glass details of Mies van der Rohe. How were Bauhaus’s details executed, and how might they be translated into contemporary details today?

How have architecture and building design adapted to unforeseen future uses? As cities evolve, their needs for buildings inevitably change. Buildings may transition between cultural, commercial, industrial, and office functions depending on a city’s identity and economic activity. In a world that is becoming increasingly dynamic and fast-paced, it’s essential to consider the challenges static structures face when required to meet new demands. Cities have repurposed these static structures in ways not anticipated during their original design, with many successes in repurposing industrial buildings. Unlike structures designed with flexibility in mind, most manufacturing facilities were not initially intended for multiple uses. Yet, how have cities, communities, and occupants used these spaces, and what are the challenges of transforming a building’s existing uses?

Density in cities is often touted as a positive and desirable way to live. Various studies have repeatedly suggested that higher density can lead to better lifestyles, a more sustainable environment, and improved health. In The Death and Life of Great American Cities, journalist Jane Jacobs identifies several possible advantages of density: increased walkability, close-knit communities, and a concentration of resources while maintaining diversity that better serves the population.