Architecture as a Walk in a Park

Contemporary Chinese architecture, particularly shaped by independent local practitioners whom the government allowed to form their private studios in the mid-1990s, has since developed a common school. These projects share regional identity. They are typically produced on a small scale, often outside of major cities in close proximity to nature, and are built in partnership with local crafters using regional materials such as timber, bamboo, brick, concrete, and ceramic tiles. The trend is adored by Western critics, as confirmed by this year’s Pritzker Prize recipient, Liu Jiakun, a Chengdu architect.

Ma Yansong (b. 1975), who founded MAD Architects in 2004, on the other hand, does not quite fit this mold. His imagination, natural drive for experimentation, and ambition have no limits. Ma’s architecture is known for its unconventional, undulating forms, inspired by traditional Chinese paintings and Eastern aesthetic philosophy. The architect earned his degrees from the Beijing University of Civil Engineering and Architecture and Yale University (2002), where he met his mentor, Zaha Hadid; he then apprenticed at her London office. 

MAD’s signature projects include Yuecheng Courtyard Kindergarten (Beijing, 2020), Chaoyang Park Plaza (Beijing, 2017), Harbin Opera House (Harbin, 2015), Absolute Towers (Mississauga, Canada, 2012), and Ordos Museum (Ordos, 2011). His monographic exhibition, Ma Yansong: Architecture and Emotion, is now on view at Nieuwe Instituut in Rotterdam, where his Fenix Museum opened in May. Also currently on view is CO-EXIST, an exhibition that Ma curated for this year’s China Pavilion at the 19th Venice Architecture Biennale. We spoke over a video call between New York and Los Angeles, where the architect was visiting his under-construction Lucas Museum of Narrative Art, set to open next year.

Ma Yansong (MY): All of the above! [Laughs] Essentially, I aim to explore anti-Modernism. Some of the modernists' works I understand, even like. However, overall there is too much emphasis on designing buildings as isolated objects, rather than integrating them into their surroundings, whether urban or natural. I enjoy working with context, including when there seems to be none. Even if you had to build on Mars, there are such aspects as color and light that need to be addressed. The goal is to let people be free. To me, emotional experience is paramount. The freedom to explore architecture and express my emotions through it is my central focus. I want to reveal something human about every building. I don’t like the idea of a building as a cold machine. Architecture should serve as a medium for understanding different people. I want my buildings to unleash the imagination of their visitors. Architecture can provoke emotions.

MY: I like those drawings. I also like drawing horses and tigers. They are beautiful. I like drawing them as if they were alive, not frozen. Qi Baishi created his paintings in a very abstract style. When he paints shrimps and fish, there is no water in his paintings. It is left blank. Water is implied. These paintings are abstract and alive at the same time. His shrimps look alive. I want my architecture to do the same. I don’t want my buildings to feel confusing. Even a kid should understand it. Architecture should stimulate curiosity, surprise, and spark imagination. Architecture is like opening a door to something new. I believe that the future of architecture lies in buildings that stimulate diverse interpretations. I would like to invite everyone to contribute to completing the image of my architecture in their imagination. I don’t like imposing architecture with a message or being too powerful to belittle people. People should feel comfortable. Architecture should not feel like entering a temple, but rather like walking in a park.

MY: Clearly, she was an artist. She hated to repeat herself, and you can see a transition in her work from early projects to the later ones. The progression from her Vitra Fire Station’s flat, sharp corners and incomplete forms to double-curvature, volumetric surfaces and fluid forms is quite apparent. When I worked with her, I was responsible for organizing some competitions. To push her own boundaries, she wanted me to go in all kinds of directions. Doing something differently is what I learned from her the most. I admire that, and I want to achieve it myself. I don’t want to repeat myself, and therefore, I don’t want to have a style.

MY: It depends on the context. Sometimes, it means you create or complete a context. When everything seems too similar, you may need to introduce a new direction. For example, our latest project, which we just completed in Rotterdam, the Fenix Museum, is an addition to the former warehouse. There, we added a structure that we called a “steel tornado.” That is unlike anything in the existing context. It rather completes the preexisting structure. Of course, they look different, but I see it as complete now. My attitude toward context is highly dynamic. In many Chinese cities, where the urban context tends to be quite generic, you need to insert a strong identity. 

MY: That was my first reaction, which was about expressing movement. It is a museum about immigration, which involves time and movement. Also, when you look at the existing building, which is heavy and made of concrete, I realized that it needs to be opened up through the roof to allow natural light to enter. The idea was to celebrate people’s movement in the space. So, to bring the movement there was my first reaction. And, of course, we did many versions of the tornado. But they all looked like a tornado. [Laughs] I wanted to bring people to the roof and to let them see the city. 

MY: In traditional Chinese architecture, the environment as a whole is always more important than a particular building. The same principle applies to Japanese architecture. It is always about the unity between a building and the nature around it. Buildings are typically surrounded by verandas, patios, and pavilions to blur the border between the interior and exterior, to follow the changing seasons, the transition from day to night, and how nature impacts the lives within. The same applies to the courtyard within a house in a bustling city, where the relationship with nature is maintained right at its center. Such architecture focuses on feelings, emotions, memories, and family life. Architecture should not be merely about a building or a person, but rather engage in a conversation between the two.

MY: I need to go to the place, to the site, to meet and understand the people, and that’s what will spark my initial reaction. Sometimes the reaction can be very strong. You know what to do right away. That leads to the first sketch. Every project starts with a sketch. Then I will let my team take it from there to develop it into a computer model, making it more accurate. That initial sketch is about emotions. There is an image in my head that precedes the sketch, which is about depicting that image. If you look at my very first sketch of the Fenix Museum, you will recognize the completed building in it, even though it was just a scribble. 

Once I have created the initial sketches and decided on the direction of the project, I will discuss them with my team. It is not always clear even to me. [Laughs] There may be a reaction, and it is hard to put into words the meaning behind it. Sometimes, I need to share that and discuss to rationalize my own intuition. That will help to develop a principle for the project. The reaction can come first, and the principle may come later. Once you have the principle, I need help with developing the project. That requires many discussions with the team. 

MY: Well, I simply don’t feel excited about repeating what I’ve done before. I want every design project to be a new journey. I want to face new challenges and confront the unknown and unexpected. I want to turn my architecture into an adventure. I also think that each place deserves a unique solution. My architecture is always intuitive and artistic. It engages with people and responds to urban issues. I also avoid making my buildings dominant and centralized. I want my architecture to be decentralized. I care a lot about using natural materials. For me, the primary focus is to foster greater diversity, which can be achieved by working in new locations. Currently, we are planning to work on projects in Brazil, Ecuador, the US, Japan, and I hope to expand to Africa. I believe the point of architecture is to get involved in planning other people’s lives [Laughs] To me, that’s a way to explore the world and how people live. That’s the beauty of architecture; as an architect, I can try to understand other people better. 

MY: Architecture is a means of combining art, attitude, and emotions. They all need to be linked. Here in Los Angeles, we express it in our now under-construction George Lucas Museum of Narrative Art. The building is designed to bring people together and find interesting ways to tell and share stories. The concept behind the building is a floating tree canopy. It is also futuristic—to attract young people and provoke their curiosity. The exhibition is very accessible. The experience is about love, family, friendship, and adventure. These stories are like Qi Baishi’s paintings. They are very human. At the same time, there is space left for self-reflection and imagination.