Re-inventing University: Public lecture

“Tracing the Lineage: From Kengo Kuma to Jenchieh Hung”

speaker: Jenchieh Hung

Co-Founder and Principal Architect : Jenchieh Hung + Kulthida Songkittipakdee / HAS design and research
Visiting Professor : Tongji University - College of Architecture and Urban Planning

Reinventing University Project : Kreangkrai Kirdsiri
Moderator : Siriporn Dansakun
Wednesday, August 6, 2025,
at the Faculty of Architecture, Silpakorn University.

Public Lecture under the University’s Upskill–Reskill Re-inventing University program
organized as part of the course Theory and Design Methodology in Japanese Architecture

 


 

Soulless

Today, I am very honored to give a lecture at Silpakorn University, moderated by the renowned educator Siriporn Dansakun. My name is Jenchieh Hung, co-founder and principal architect of the award-winning practice Jenchieh Hung + Kulthida Songkittipakdee / HAS Design and Research, as well as Visiting Professor at Tongji University.
Before I begin, I would like to share something from earlier in my journey — before I had the privilege of working with the Japanese architect Kengo Kuma — a reflection on why I chose to become an architect in the first place.
As a child, I often wondered: Why do our cities feel soulless? The city is where human beings live, yet the buildings all began to look the same — concrete, glass, metal. In this endless repetition, I felt as though we were gradually becoming like rabbits, trapped within the mass of architecture.

 

Nature as Soulness

In contrast, just beyond the city, we encounter nature as a realm of vitality, spirit, and an intrinsic sense of soul. Although its elements—stone, sand, water, and grass—may appear simple in isolation, their integration produces compositions that are infinitely diverse, dynamic, and life-sustaining. Nature demonstrates that repetition does not necessarily lead to monotony; rather, it can be layered, rhythmic, and rich in variation.
This contrast led me to consider whether architecture could aspire to similar qualities—not merely as an assemblage of materials, but as a medium infused with energy, meaning, and soul. If buildings could embody the vitality of natural systems, the experience of inhabitation would extend beyond function and shelter, enabling architecture to restore, inspire, and foster a deeper sense of connection and aliveness.

 

A Question in My Life

Throughout my life, I have been driven by a persistent question: why are many Asian cities predominantly constructed from concrete and metal, often resulting in environments that feel devoid of spirit, while just beyond their boundaries, nature continues to embody vitality and life?
This question has remained with me since childhood, gradually shaping my intellectual trajectory and ultimately becoming a fundamental motivation for pursuing architecture.

 

Architecture to Archi-Nature

This inquiry forms the core philosophy of our practice, HAS Design and Research (Jenchieh Hung + Kulthida Songkittipakdee), as well as my personal approach to architecture: to conceive buildings not as entities separate from nature, but as integral extensions of it.
While the term “architecture” may appear conceptually distant, its reframing as “Archi–Nature” reveals a latent connection. The shared syllable functions as a conceptual bridge between architecture and nature—an idea that extends beyond linguistic play to become a guiding principle in our work. In each project, we seek to construct this bridge, translating the energy, diversity, and vitality of natural systems into architectural form and experience.

 

Nature Experimental

When I was a student, even before I had the opportunity to work with Kengo Kuma, I had already begun to explore an approach rooted in nature. These images are from my student projects, where I created large-scale mock-up models using real materials. Through these works, you can see how I attempted to investigate nature by applying simple geometries, allowing materiality and form to reveal new spatial possibilities.

 

Social Engagement

Through my early student work, I came to recognize a desire to develop architecture that meaningfully serves society. For example, this chair, designed for a kindergarten, demonstrates how pattern can operate beyond visual expression—contributing simultaneously to function, practicality, and cost-efficiency. Projects such as this led me to understand that design can be both meaningful and accessible, addressing social needs while maintaining aesthetic value.

 

A Good Work Always Gains Recognition on the International Platform

This project, developed during my student years, measures 1.6 meters in width and 3.6 meters in length, and was conceived as a lighting installation to transform an ordinary corridor. The work explores how light can redefine spatial perception and enhance everyday environments. I was fortunate that this project received international recognition and was published in the International Journal of Interior Architecture and Spatial Design.

 

Books Enrich My Life

After graduating, I was considering which architectural practice to join when I encountered the book Nature Architecture by Kengo Kuma. The text explores the relationship between architecture and nature, and its ideas strongly resonated with my own developing philosophy. Motivated by this intellectual alignment, I decided to apply to his firm.

 

A Way to Work with Kengo Kuma

When applying to the Japanese firm, my background aligned closely with their design philosophy. As part of the selection process, I was required to complete a design examination, in which candidates respond to a given brief within a strict time constraint.
The assigned project involved designing a house in Tokyo that integrates two primary functions: a residence and a dental clinic. The residential component was conceived to support mental well-being, while the clinic addressed physical health, operating in a manner analogous to a temple or communal space for reflection and care. This project provided an opportunity to explore how architecture can simultaneously accommodate personal and collective needs.

 

Working with Kengo Kuma: MIFA Shipyard 1862

One of the most memorable projects I worked on with Kengo Kuma was MIFA Shipyard 1862 in Shanghai. The project involved the adaptive reuse of a large brick shipyard, originally constructed in 1972 along the Huangpu River, transforming it into a vibrant new complex with a theatre and retail spaces.

What struck me immediately was the dramatic spatial gesture at the heart of the building: a massive void, 20 meters high and 150 meters long, slicing through the center. Walking through it, you feel the scale of an enormous ship, a presence that dominates the space. The effect is further intensified by the existing concrete columns, which were preserved not only as structural support but as a testament to the building’s history.

The western façade was equally fascinating. It is covered with a translucent screen made of porous bricks, fixed with stainless steel wires. The density of the bricks changes gradually, creating a subtle gradation that gives rhythm and texture to the exterior. It’s a delicate balance of materiality and transparency — a dialogue between solidity and lightness.

At the eastern end, the theatre opens up to the river. The stage is backed by a massive glass wall, and depending on how the curtain is positioned, the audience can suddenly be confronted with a breathtaking view of the Huangpu River. It was an extraordinary lesson for me: architecture can create moments where built space and natural surroundings coexist, where structure and environment speak to each other, and where people feel both grounded and inspired.
Through this project, I learned how architecture can honor history, respect materiality, and yet still surprise and delight. It was a profound experience that continues to shape my approach to design.

 

From Kengo Kuma Projects to Other Japanese Architects in Shanghai

While working with Kengo Kuma, I gained a deeper understanding of Japanese culture, history, and work standards. Inspired by this, I dedicated my personal time to exploring projects by other Japanese architects in Shanghai.
Working within a Japanese architectural practice required a full schedule from Monday to Saturday. I therefore dedicated my Sundays—from 6:00 a.m. to 8:00 p.m.—to visiting buildings, documenting their design, and recording analytical observations. Over time, these notes and sketches developed into the foundation of a research-based publication.
This sustained practice significantly expanded my understanding of architectural methodologies, particularly in observing how Japanese architects interpret space, materiality, and context. It was an invaluable experience that both refined my design philosophy and broadened my perspective on architecture.

 

Japan-ness

Japanese culture extends far beyond the borders of Japan, and this is largely due to its strong architectural roots. My experience working with Kengo Kuma provided not only technical insight, but also a deeper understanding of how culture and tradition inform architectural practice.
Through my studies and reflections on “Japan-ness,” I was able to enrich my own understanding of architecture, shaping both my career and my personal design philosophy. This exploration allowed me to integrate cultural awareness and philosophical thinking into my own practice, bridging the lessons of Japan with the contexts of my own work.

 

Complexity

The world’s aesthetic began with “complexity,” as the history of civilization began with “dynasties.” In ancient China and India, intricate patterns and exquisite structures were regarded as symbols of royal authority. Similarly, in the religiously dominated West, elaborate architecture and decorations in churches and sacred spaces were designed to express the majesty of religion.
As the world moved into the modern era, the age of monarchy gradually came to an end, giving rise to popular culture. Society’s focus shifted toward ordinary people, who sought simple, everyday lives. Daily life and architecture began to embrace simplicity. Compared to ornate and extravagant decorations, practicality and functionality became increasingly valued.
Design that unites form, function, and objects into a cohesive whole represents the rational approach championed by Western modernism. Japan, historically skilled at absorbing and integrating outstanding cultures from around the world—from ancient Rome and China to modern Western nations—has long exemplified this approach.

 

Kū / Emptiness

After Japan embraced modernism, its objects and designs became strikingly minimalist. Yet Japanese minimalism differs from its Western counterpart, carrying a distinctly Japanese character. This unique style was famously described by Kenya Hara as “Kū” (Emptiness).
The origins of this aesthetic can be traced back to the 15th century during a ten-year civil conflict known as the Ōnin War. The war, centered in Kyoto—the political heart of Japan at the time—led to widespread destruction of buildings and objects, causing immense cultural loss.
In the aftermath, Shogun Ashikaga Yoshimasa reflected on these events. He abdicated in favor of his son and retired to the eastern suburbs of Kyoto, dedicating himself to the study of calligraphy, painting, and the tea ceremony. Through this, he initiated Higashiyama culture, which profoundly influenced Japanese aesthetics.
Yoshimasa’s secluded retreat, the Ginkaku-ji (Silver Pavilion), became a hallmark of Higashiyama culture, exemplifying architecture and gardens with subtle elegance. Within the retreat, spaces such as the study and tea room, known as Dōjinsai, are regarded as the origin of modern Japanese minimalist style. Though the gardens may appear sparse, they contain countless possibilities. Visitors often come here to reflect, organize their thoughts, and engage in dialogue with their own hearts, especially after being separated from loved ones.

 

Fusion of Tradition and Modernism

In 1953, Kiyoshi Seike completed the design of the “House of Assistant Professor Saitō”, a project that extended the explorations initiated by Junzo Sakakura in the 1937 Paris Exposition Japanese Pavilion. By abstracting the proportions of wooden structures, Seike sought to achieve a seamless fusion of traditional Japanese architecture and modern spatial concepts.
In this residence, Seike demonstrated the potential harmony between modernist architectural aesthetics and Japanese traditional design, while also applying a functionalist approach tailored to local conditions. The meticulous attention to proportional relationships in the detailing produced a visual and psychological experience uniquely characteristic of Japanese architecture.
This house can be seen as a precursor to a distinct trajectory in Japanese modernist architecture. During his visit, Walter Gropius praised it as a “happy union between Japanese architectural tradition and modern technology,” underscoring its significance as a milestone in the dialogue between heritage and modernity.

 

What Distinguishes Japanese “Kū” from Western Minimalism?

Kenya Hara provides an illuminating explanation through the example of “two knives.” One is a German knife: exquisitely crafted, comfortable to hold, with every detail—including the placement of the thumb—carefully considered. It is highly functional and precise.
The other is a Japanese knife. Its handle is left untreated, allowing the user to hold and use it in any way they choose. Its effectiveness depends entirely on the skill of the person wielding it.
In this sense, whereas Western minimalism emphasizes functionality, Japanese “Kū” (Emptiness) emphasizes possibility. Like an empty bowl, this “emptiness” is not a void but a space full of potential and imagination.
In ancient Japan, people believed that gods inhabited all aspects of nature, with some traditions speaking of eight million deities. How could humans communicate with them? By erecting four pillars and connecting them with ropes, a structure of “Kū” was created. The gods might enter this space—or they might not—but the possibility of their presence was what truly mattered.
When a roof was added, the structure became a “Yashiro,” the precursor to the ancient Shinto shrine. These early shrines were built in the hope that deities might enter, and people conducted prayers and rituals in anticipation of this potential presence.
Thus, “Kū” can be understood as a space brimming with possibilities, inviting imagination and contemplation. This aesthetic of emptiness permeates many aspects of Japanese culture, from traditional Noh theater and painting to architecture and design.

 

Togo Murano and Kenzō Tange

Togo Murano and Kenzō Tange stand as pillars of modern Japanese architecture, guiding it into a new era. Murano, with his quiet elegance, wove tradition into modern life. His buildings—like Osaka Central Public Hall—speak in subtle gestures, balancing material, light, and space, reflecting a profound respect for human scale and cultural memory. He revealed how modern architecture could honor the past without imitation, crafting serenity from restraint.
Tange, a visionary of the postwar generation, transformed Japan’s architectural identity on the world stage. Merging modernist ideals with symbolic echoes of heritage, his works—such as Hiroshima Peace Memorial Park and Yoyogi National Gymnasium—embody power, rhythm, and movement. Concrete and steel became carriers of both functional clarity and poetic expression, shaping a language uniquely Japanese yet globally resonant.
Together, Murano and Tange charted a path from reverent tradition to daring innovation, influencing generations of architects, including Kengo Kuma, and inspiring Japanese architecture to be both timeless and forward-looking—a dialogue between past, present, and future.

 

Working with Kengo Kuma: Xiangcheng Yangcheng Lake Tourist Transportation Center

Yangcheng Lake, just a few kilometers from Suzhou in Jiangsu Province, is famous for its mitten crabs—a rare delicacy that really draws people from all over. Lately, with more tourists wanting to experience food right where it comes from, there was a clear need to rethink the lakeshore. That’s where the Xiangcheng Yangcheng Lake Tourist Transportation Center comes in. We didn’t just want a building; we wanted a place that connects the landscape, the local culture, and the visitor experience. So, the design includes a port, a restaurant, a shop, exhibition halls, and multimedia spaces—all integrated into the lakeside.
The building itself is treated almost like a hill. We used aluminum extrusions of the same size, placed randomly, to create a topography that flows from outside to inside. The slanted floors inside continue this landform, giving the interior a sense of ambiguity, almost like the building is part of the natural terrain.
The two triangular roofs, connected by a footbridge, open toward the lake in the shape of the number eight—symbolizing prosperity in Chinese culture. The rooms are covered with layered aluminum profiles that reinterpret the texture of traditional thatched roofs. Sunlight filters through this perforated skin, making the interior shaded and comfortable. Every slope and surface is carefully positioned so that views of the lake remain uninterrupted, keeping the architecture in dialogue with its surroundings.

 

Structure

The Xiangcheng Yangcheng Lake Tourist Transportation Center features a large cantilevered roof, making its structural design particularly complex. The roof is not only a key load-bearing element but also plays a vital role in shaping the building’s spatial experience. By carefully modulating angles, overhangs, and connections, the structure interacts with natural light, casting dynamic shadows that change throughout the day. This interplay of light and shadow gives the building a sense of timelessness, while maintaining structural stability and clarity. Every detail, from the cantilever’s proportions to the joints, is designed to harmonize form, function, and atmosphere.

 

Material

At the Xiangcheng Yangcheng Lake Tourist Transportation Center, materials play a central role in bridging tradition, nature, and modernity. Aluminum is used extensively on the roofs, arranged in a seemingly random pattern to evoke the texture of traditional thatched roofs. This creates a layered, tactile effect that feels both local and contemporary. The aluminum treatment extends into the interior, gradually transitioning into wood, which adds warmth and a human scale to the spaces. This continuity reinforces the connection between inside and outside, making the building feel like a natural extension of the landscape.
The flooring complements this approach, with stone surfaces featuring irregular textures that echo the randomness found in nature. Together, these materials create a subtle dialogue between artificial and natural, modern and traditional, interior and exterior. Light interacts with the surfaces, enhancing movement, depth, and a sense of timelessness throughout the center.

 

Uneven & Tarnished

One of the aspects I truly appreciate in the Xiangcheng Yangcheng Lake Tourist Transportation Center is the intentional sense of unevenness and natural wear throughout the building. From the roof and ceiling to the floors, the surfaces avoid uniformity, creating a tactile and visual rhythm that feels organic rather than manufactured. The roof’s aluminum louvers, arranged in a seemingly random pattern, catch light differently at each angle, producing subtle variations in tone and shadow throughout the day.
Inside, this randomness continues with slanted ceilings and layered floor materials, giving the interior a sense of ambiguity and movement. The stone flooring, with its irregular textures, reinforces this feeling of imperfection, grounding the building in its natural surroundings. Together, these “tarnished” qualities create a nuanced, lived-in atmosphere, allowing visitors to experience a space that feels both authentic and intimately connected to the landscape, while maintaining quiet elegance.

 

The New Journey

After my time working with Kengo Kuma, I began a new chapter by founding a practice together with my partner, Kulthida Songkittipakdee, based in both Bangkok and Shanghai. Our office is named after us—Jenchieh Hung + Kulthida Songkittipakdee / HAS Design and Research. The word “HAS” comes from Hung And Songkittipakdee, but it also suggests the idea of “having.” For us, this captures both the spirit of our partnership and the way we see architecture—as the act of bringing together design and research into one continuous practice.
From the very beginning, experimentation has been central to our journey. Our first work, the Thai Architecture Pavilion, was built for Asia’s largest exhibition of contemporary Thai architecture. It gave us a chance to test materials and methods on a cultural stage. Soon after, we completed our first cultural building, The Glade Bookstore, which helped to further define our identity.
Alongside practice, I have remained deeply engaged in education. As Visiting Professor at Tongji University, I run HAS Lab—Hung And Songkittipakdee Laboratory—where students explore how patterns can become strategies for complex urban systems. For me, teaching and practice constantly feed one another.
Writing and publishing are also integral to our approach. Over the years, we have released several books, including Shanghai Architecture Guide: Views of Jenchieh Hung + Kulthida Songkittipakdee. Today, it is my honor to share this book as a gift to Silpakorn University.
Most recently, our practice has been expanding through cultural projects in diverse contexts. I cannot present them all today, but I am grateful to the Faculty of Architecture at Silpakorn University for this invitation. I look forward to returning again, to continue this dialogue and share more of our ongoing architectural journey.

 

Speaker introduction

Jenchieh Hung is an architect, artist, and educator, widely recognized as one of Asia’s most distinctive architectural voices. He is known for crafting spatial narratives that intertwine history, culture, and emotion. Jenchieh Hung began his career at the Japanese firm Kengo Kuma and Associates in 2014, where he rose to become Design Manager and Project In-Charge by 2018. After years of solid professional experience, he co-founded Jenchieh Hung + Kulthida Songkittipakdee / HAS Design and Research, an architectural practice that resists fleeting aesthetic trends in favor of design rooted in local identity, material innovation, and ecological consciousness. With a practice spanning Thailand, China, and other parts of Asia, navigating diverse cultural contexts, he has earned recognition as one of the region’s most acclaimed architects, as well as a leading figure in architectural academia and exhibition curation. His international accolades include the Créateurs Design Award (France), INDE. Award (Australia), inclusion in the Wallpaper* Architects’ Directory (United Kingdom), and the Thailand Prestige Award, among others.

Jenchieh Hung has recently gained global attention for a series of landmark projects, including the Museum of Modern Aluminum Thailand, Simple Art Museum, Aluminum Grotto and Public Ground, Forest Villa, The Glade Bookstore, and Casa de Zanotta. In 2023, he was appointed Exhibition Chairman and Principal Curator by The Association of Siamese Architects under Royal Patronage (ASA). That year, he curated major exhibitions such as Infinity Ground at the Bangkok Art and Culture Centre (BACC), Thailand’s leading cultural venue, and Collective Language: Asian Contemporary Architecture at the IMPACT Arena Exhibition Center, the world’s first large-scale exhibition of Asian architects, held in collaboration with the Architects Regional Council Asia (ARCASIA). In parallel with his professional practice, Jenchieh Hung currently serves as Visiting Professor at Tongji University, ranked eleventh globally in the QS World University Architecture Rankings 2025. There, his design studio, Hung And Songkittipakdee Laboratory (HAS Lab), explores pattern formation as a strategy for simulating urban spatial systems.