UC Berkeley Design Studio
Academic, 2023
Collaborate with Yabiao Guo
Instructor: David Jaehning
Academic, 2023
Collaborate with Yabiao Guo
Instructor: David Jaehning
UC Berkeley Design Studio
Academic, 2022
Individual Work
Instructor: René Davids, Greg Castillo
Collected in Dessau Effect 3 | 2022
Academic, 2022
Individual Work
Instructor: René Davids, Greg Castillo
Collected in Dessau Effect 3 | 2022
UC Berkeley Design Studio
Academic, 2021
Individual Work
Instructor: Eric Reeder
Academic, 2020
Individual Work
Tutor: Elliott Chieh
Kyushu University Design Studio
Academic, 2020
Collaborate with Tatsuhiko Hirata, Ishimoto Daiho, Masaaki Hiramatsu, Kido Togo
Instructor: Takefumi Kurose
Shortlisted | 2020 the 7th Urban Design and Town Planning Competition, 2020
Top100 | Fukuoka-Design Review, 2020
Collected in Design Review 2020 (pp.121, ID 44) & UD&TP Competition 2020 (pp.160-161)
Academic, 2019
Collaborate with Zhichen Gong, Congying He, Yingzhi He
Academic, 2019
Collaborate with Zhichen Gong, Yong Chen, Yingzhi He, Congying He
Collected in eVolo Skyscrapers 4 | 2021
Exihibited in Paradoxical, 4C Architecture and Design Innovation Exhibition | 2021
Academic, 2018
Collaborate with Zhichen Gong, Congying He
Third Prize | 3th "Tianhua"ART&TECH National College Students' Arch Design Competition, 2018
Academic, 2018 (Reworked in 2020)
Individual Work
Instuctor: Yiwa Shen, Elliott Chieh
Professional, 2024
Supervisor: Geoffrey Sorrell
Associated with
Professional, 2022
Supervisor: René Davids
Associated with
Associated with
13
UC Berkeley Graduate Thesis
Academic, 2024
Indivudual Work
Instructor: Neyran Turan, Mia Zinni
Academic, 2024
Indivudual Work
Instructor: Neyran Turan, Mia Zinni
13. The Night is Short, Walk on Girl
Written on 2026 June 14, in New Jersey, US
It is about …
I just realized that this summer marks my tenth anniversary with architecture. So I finally had the urge to finish this piece that I wanted to do many times - after my internship gap year, after my graduation, after my job hunting, etc. I kept postponing it. My past ten years include moving between schools, competitions, internships, and jobs - across China, Japan, the US, Switzerland, Austria, and Denmark.
I Wanted to be Cool (2016-2019)
I did not start in architecture. At Huazhong University of Science and Technology (HUST), I spent my first two years in New Energy Science and Engineering. At a university where engineering dominates, the architecture department looked different: students carrying large models and drawings, each owning a desk in the studio. I was drawn to that world. I knew, from my father working in the industry, that architecture meant long hours and inevitable exhaustion - he was honest about that. But at nineteen, I was curious and wanted to be cool. So I transferred with his blessing. It may feel childish, but it was honestly how things started.
Once I entered architecture, it turned out to be like everyone had warned me about: endless drawings and revisions, and long nights. But it felt exciting to make something. I was not the favourite student in the studio - I worked hard, but I wasn't "the best one". At some point, I started looking for a different kind of validation, from people who didn't already know me. That was how I drifted into competitions.
In the summer after my second year in architecture, I teamed up with my classmate Zhichen Gong, whom I considered very talented. We decided to enter our first competition - the UIA-HYP Cup International Student Competition in Architectural Design. After working on it intermittently throughout the summer, our concepts were clear, but our drawings were not there yet; our school didn't allow digital drawing in the first year, only hand drawings, and we were still catching up on digital representation. One day, scrolling through an architecture WeChat public account, I saw a project with renderings far beyond what we could do. I tracked down the author, Congying He, and wrote to ask if she would join our team. After briefing her on our design, she said yes. It was the last week before submission. We skipped almost all classes and worked non-stop, trying to pull a project we believed in out of our heads and onto the page.
Unlike in movies, we submitted it and won nothing. Later, the same project was resubmitted to the
Looking back, what competitions gave me was not only prizes but a habit: read a brief carefully, study precedents critically, and ask whether a concept could actually become a form. That habit, more than any result, is what I carried into practice.
Escape plan - Japan, and the US (2019-2022)
By the end of my third year, after a year of intense competitions, I got an offer from Archmixing Atelier, founded by Shen Zhuang, who practices and teaches at Tongji University. He was assembling two publications: a Tongji University studio booklet (小菜场上的家 5) and a ten-year office portfolio (Change is More: Architectural Thinking by Atelier Archmixing). He needed help cleaning up drawings for both. That was my main task, and where I learned the fundamentals of architectural drawing. I also contributed to one ongoing project and was credited in the final publication of
During that internship, I noticed something about myself: I was equally drawn to architectural representation as to architecture itself. Representation became a way for me to look back at the design process and thread ideas together. I also became conscious of the audience. How much context do they need? What would they be interested in? And for audiences who want to look deeper, how can the drawings hold more layered information for them to keep discovering?
I went to
During my first year at Berkeley, which was my sixth year in architecture, the idea of a gap year formed in my mind. I sought advice from different people, and my studio professor, Eric Reeder, convinced me: "Ultimately, lots of decisions we make as architects are based on our experiences." That gave me clarity. I decided to take the gap year and fully throw myself into whatever would come - just experience it. But I set a condition for myself: only if I could get into offices that were worth it. First and foremost, I applied to OMA New York and Herzog & de Meuron. When both wrote back, I was thrilled.
A Peek into Dream Offices Following with Graduation (2022-2024)
I went on an adventure after my first year in Berkeley (sixth in architecture). I had a summer internship in OMA New York, and then Herzog & de Meuron, the TD office, and Henning Larsen Copenhagen - combined for a year.
OMA New York's interview invitation came while I was on a studio trip in Berlin with classmates and professors Rene Davids and Greg Castillo. Four of us classmates were sharing a double room, and the only private space was the bathroom. Knowing I couldn't wait, I booked the earliest time slot and interviewed in the bathroom. I told my interviewers, Takeshi Mitsuda and Tim Tse, that I was on a studio trip and calling from a bathroom. Everyone laughed. OMA was my first love in architecture - their books, their diagrams, the way they think through and articulate projects. First love affects you the most and stays with you. That summer, I moved to New York. The city in summer is incredibly energetic: people are out every night, and the streets never quite empty.
After three months at OMA, I went to
The last part of that year took me to Copenhagen with
Life in Copenhagen was sweet. The projects were serious, but the people were kind. We cared about the work but did not glorify exhaustion. Summer days were very long, and I often finished my work and left the office in daylight - sitting by the canal, going home to rest, going out again to bars. On the roof, we kept beehives and bottled the honey as "Henning Honey." It was a small detail, but it captured how Henning Larsen felt to me: a place that took design seriously but also genuinely enjoyed life. I made so many friends in Copenhagen, and I’m still in touch with some of them. I remember late - night bike rides, laughter, morning runs, and summer night outdoor drinking. I lived locally.
Then I went back to Berkeley to finish my degree. I love the school and the city - the climate, the courtyard behind our architecture building where I like to eat and have coffee, my home, my backyard, my people. I had a year in Berkeley to unpack my gap year, read, design, and think about the future - what would my first real job after graduation be like?
Across all my internships - not just the gap year - I had a window into eight very different offices: as small as four people, as large as global corporations, from Shanghai to Tokyo, New York, Basel, Flachau, and Copenhagen. The conclusion I reached was simple: I wanted to practice architecture for a long time, without burning out early. I also learned how to move because I was always moving - as soon as I became familiar with an environment, I had to move again and introduce myself to a new group of people. I became very used to it and found my rhythm in a new environment: calm down, start with a light heart, and observe.
Becoming an Architect (2024-2026)
I graduated in May 2024, but began job hunting in January. Both 2023 and 2024 were difficult years to graduate into: the job market was weak, and even harder for international students who face additional visa constraints. My inbox was quiet for a while, and I began to turn the questions inward: would I have a job at all? There were simply very few openings. I contacted OMA and Henning Larsen, but they were not hiring; professors put me in touch with their connections, who were not hiring either. A few firms offered internships instead of full‑time positions, not because they doubted my competencies, but because they did not know what their workload would be. One office put me through four interviews over two months and then rejected me. Now I can say with confidence that they simply were not hiring. But at the time, I was in a position where any doubt became something I turned against myself: Am I not good enough?
I found staying home, sending applications, and waiting for replies a bit unbearable, so I went on a trip to New York and Boston to catch up with friends - and of course, hoping some opportunities might open up. Two offices invited me for interviews while I was there, but no offers were made.
During that trip,
Looking back, I think it is very difficult to navigate when the job market is terrible. I had to try in all directions, and hopefully, some doors would open. But when trying in all directions, I of course knocked on doors that were never meant to open - and even if I knew that, it still hurt. There was nothing I could do other than stay strong, trust my own value, and keep going. The offer from LOHA came at the end of May, just two weeks after graduation - but because I had started searching in January, it felt like I had been in the market for much longer than just two weeks.
Leaving Berkeley was hard. Berkeley was a cute college town, small and close-knit - California squirrels, beautiful trees, people walking their dogs, and being kind to each other, all my friends lived within one or two miles. I called Berkeley home because it was the first place in this country where I truly settled. Los Angeles, by contrast, felt intimidating: too large, too horizontal, too dependent on cars. But I went anyway.
I remember arriving, taking a nap, and opening the curtains - the sunlight was so strong it felt almost hostile. Southern California was so different from Berkeley. Berkeley is cute and gentle; SoCal is passionate and strong, just like the sunshine.
Over the next sixteen months, I fell in love with LA. I learned to enjoy driving while watching palm trees cut into the evening sky. I loved watching dogs peek their heads out of car windows next to me; I loved LA people dressing across a wide spectrum from casual to formal, and felt entirely liberated by it. I loved putting on sunglasses and stepping into the heat. So many things flash through my mind when I think about LA now: the sunsets, the constant concerts and live music, the outdoor patio tables. The climbing community was so generous that I made many friends through it - funny enough, at my housewarming, everyone outside of architecture was a climber.
The city was sprawling and fragmented, full of different neighbourhood identities, West Hollywood (my block), Fairfax, Santa Monica, and so on, and it never bored me. I was unexpectedly comfortable with LA's horizontality: you can see very far, and feel like your body can stretch comfortably into the distance. It felt like an arranged marriage: I arrived unsure whether we would get along, and then fell in love.
At LOHA, I had my third experience working on graphic design within architecture. I was hired as a junior designer, but whenever we needed graphic material for marketing or for clients, I often took on those tasks. My work included not only renderings but also other kinds of architectural representation. One of LOHA’s formats was something they called a Pantone: a monochrome drawing that uses plays with perspectives and focuses on storytelling to capture the essence of a project. My biggest graphic piece there was a pamphlet for
Just when I thought I had finally found where I belonged and was ready to stay, Henning Larsen New York wrote to say they were hiring. I said yes, I’m still interested. That answer was almost predictable: I am always open to new opportunities. I liked my life and my friends in Los Angeles, but I knew that if I didn't try Henning Larsen New York, I would always wonder about it. So I moved again. Nothing is permanent; people move around, and so can I. Falling in love with LA meant there would always be a place to return to. I know my friends would pick me up from the airport, open their arms wide, and welcome me back. Loving LA is not a reason to anchor myself and put away my curiosity; rather, it is a support for my explorations.
I moved to New Jersey in mid-October. My first winter in New York started right away and was, according to everyone, the harshest in more than a decade. The cold and early darkness made me miss LA's easy warmth.
In March, a couple of months after I moved to New Jersey, I passed all my architect registration exams and California Supplemental Exam, and became a licensed architect in California. It took me a year of studying while working full‑time. I am now in the process of obtaining a New York license through reciprocity. Because of the exams, I did not explore LA as much as I wanted to. Many weekends that could have been spent climbing outdoors were instead filled with study. I am both happy and a little sad about this trade‑off. But I am glad I did it. For the first time, I can say out loud what I have quietly felt for years: I am an architect.
As I am writing this, it is June. The days are longer. I often leave work while it is still bright and feel motivated to explore the city. I am slowly getting to know the architecture community in New York, a city that values art, design, and creative work. In New York, I feel that being an architect is recognised as meaningful beyond our own niche. In that sense, I have returned to my earliest, slightly childish motivation: it is cool to be an architect.
That line has stayed with me - "Ultimately, we make decisions based on our experiences." When I was applying to graduate school, I struggled to write my personal statement. I hadn't lived enough yet to know. Now I do. Looking back at my projects across the past ten years, I can see a quiet thread running through all of them: will the people who enter feel comfortable staying? When you spend years a little outside - an international student, the new intern, the new person in the country - you develop an acute sensitivity to how a space receives people.
My past decade - changing majors, competitions, study abroad, a gap year, a difficult job search, a move to Los Angeles, another move to New York, nine offices across three continents… I often feel lonely; at the same time, I am moved by how many versions of my younger self I have managed to honour. There were so many moments I did not know exactly where I was going. I just said yes to opportunities - and some of them arrived in the shape of a hardship.
I might still move. I still chase things because I think they are cool. Maybe that part of me will never grow up. But wherever I go, I can introduce myself as an architect.