Designing Stillness: Chang Suo on Creating the Whispering Retreat

Being recognized by the MUSE Design Awards is deeply meaningful to me, as it affirms the dedication and creativity I bring to every project. The balance between creative expression and meaningful social impact aligns closely with my personal values and professional aspirations.

I see design as a language that connects people with their environments, and I find fulfillment in creating spaces that evoke emotion, foster connection, and promote a sustainable future. This recognition is both an honor and an inspiration to continue pushing boundaries, exploring inclusive and sustainable approaches, and contributing to the dialogue on how design can build a more connected and resilient world.

It has elevated the visibility of my work, opening doors to new collaborations, invitations to share insights of the award design, and greater credibility within the professional community.

Experimentation is at the core of my creative process. I see it as a way to challenge assumptions, test unconventional ideas, and uncover unexpected solutions that redefine how people experience space. Rather than treating design as a linear path, I embrace iteration—sketching, modeling, simulating, and prototyping at different scales—to allow new possibilities to emerge.

In a recent master planning project, for instance, we explored how underutilized infrastructure could be repurposed as community assets. By testing multiple scenarios—such as transforming an abandoned gas station canopy into a shaded plaza and converting underground tanks into rainwater reuse systems—we discovered solutions that not only addressed environmental challenges but also fostered gathering and identity. This spirit of experimentation allows me to merge practicality with imagination, ensuring that every design is both resilient and inspiring.

One of the most unusual sources of inspiration I’ve drawn from was the structure of mangrove forests. I was fascinated by how their tangled roots stabilize shorelines, filter water, and create habitats, all while adapting to harsh tidal conditions. 

Translating that resilience into design, I explored how interwoven circulation networks and layered green infrastructure could both protect and enliven urban spaces. The project ultimately adopted a “living edge” approach, where landscape and built form worked together like a mangrove system resilient, adaptive, and deeply connected to its environment.

One thing I wish more people understood about the design process is that it’s as much about stewardship as it is about creativity. Ian McHarg, the pioneer of ecological planning, once said, “Design with nature.” That simple phrase captures a profound truth: every design decision carries environmental consequences, and resilience should never be an afterthought—it’s the foundation.

I see the client’s goals as the starting point of a dialogue, not a limitation. By listening closely, I aim to uncover the deeper aspirations behind their requests—often values such as community impact, sustainability, or long-term flexibility—that align with my own design philosophy. From there, it becomes about translating those shared values into solutions that are both innovative and practical.

Transforming a former dormitory into a boutique retreat required a careful balance of preservation, adaptability, and identity. We approached this challenge by blending Zen-inspired minimalism with flexible spatial layouts.

Nestled within a forest by the Miyun Reservoir and framed by dramatic mountains, the design responds sensitively to its surroundings. By harmonizing architecture with nature and context, the project becomes a sanctuary for wellness, reflection, and quiet celebration.

I recharge by immersing myself in nature. Being surrounded by forests, mountains, or water landscapes often reveals patterns and rhythms that inspire new design ideas, reminding me how architecture can learn from the environment. Beyond that, I find renewal through reading and visiting architectural masterpieces, each offering a distinct perspective.

These experiences open my mind, spark fresh inspiration, and reconnect me with the deeper purpose of design—creating spaces that resonate with both people and place.

I infuse my designs with the values of inclusivity, adaptability, and harmony with nature. Growing up amid landscapes that shaped daily life taught me that the built environment should never overpower its setting, but instead listen and respond to it. This perspective fuels my commitment to sustainability and cultural sensitivity, ensuring that every space feels authentic, resilient, and welcoming to all.

My advice to aspiring designers is to stay curious and courageous. Don’t be afraid to question assumptions, explore unconventional ideas, and embrace experimentation—innovation often emerges from the margins, not the mainstream.

If I could collaborate with any designer, it would be Tadao Ando. His work embodies the balance I aspire to—where architecture becomes not just a structure, but a dialogue with light, nature, and silence. I admire how he uses minimal means to evoke profound emotion, creating spaces that feel timeless yet deeply human.

One question I wish people would ask is: “How can design breathe new life into what already exists?”

Transforming an abandoned dormitory into a boutique retreat, for example, was not only about adapting a structure, but about honoring memory, reducing waste, and creating spaces that evolve over time. To me, adaptive reuse is both a sustainable strategy and a philosophy—it shows that renewal, rather than replacement, can lead to the most meaningful design.