Tinglung Chang

Being recognized by the MUSE Design Awards is far more than receiving a trophy—it represents international validation of my design philosophy and creative journey. It shows that my work can transcend regional and cultural boundaries, resonating with a global audience of professionals and peers. For me, this recognition carries three important meanings: Validation of professional practice – It affirms over a decade of cross-disciplinary experience in furniture, lighting, and interior design, and reinforces my commitment to creating designs that seamlessly balance aesthetics and functionality. Symbol of industry impact – As one of the world’s most influential design awards, winning Gold at MUSE means my design perspective is not only acknowledged, but has also become part of the broader industry conversation, inspiring others to consider how furniture and home décor can truly become the soul of a space. Motivation for the future – This achievement is not an endpoint but a milestone that gives me the responsibility and courage to keep innovating. It strengthens my drive to create work that connects people with objects, spaces, and emotions, and to deepen my impact within the U.S. design industry. Ultimately, this award is not just a personal achievement—it belongs equally to the teams and collaborators who have supported me. It is both an honor and a catalyst for me to continue shaping memorable design experiences that endure beyond trends.

This honor has not only had a profound personal impact but has also strengthened the cultural and industrial value of my future design work. The recognition from the MUSE Design Awards has elevated my professional visibility on the international stage. More than a personal achievement, it has become an important asset for my continued development in the American furniture and home décor industry. It has given me the confidence to explore new design languages, pursue new market directions, and demonstrate my capabilities globally—enhancing industry visibility and attracting new opportunities for collaboration and exchange. Most importantly, this award has opened tangible opportunities, including deeper engagement with industry experts, international brands, and potential cross-border collaborations. At the same time, it has further solidified my international influence and professional standing in the field of furniture and lighting design.

Experimentation plays a central role in my creative process. I believe that design is not only about solving problems but also about exploring new possibilities. Through experimentation, I can move beyond conventional thinking and discover unexpected combinations of materials, patterns, and forms. For example, in my award-winning project “Timeless Luxury in a Studio Suite of Black, Gold, and Passion” I experimented extensively with layering materials such as charred black wood, polished brass, and rich textiles like velvet and jacquard, while testing how different lighting conditions would transform their textures and moods. There was no fixed formula—only through repeated trials and adjustments was I able to capture the intended sense of elegance, luxury, and vitality. Later, my training at RISD further reinforced this approach. The school’s strong emphasis on critical thinking and cross-material exploration trained me to remain open and curious in my practice, always willing to test unconventional ideas. This mindset not only expanded my creative range but also enabled me to achieve a deeper balance between function, aesthetics, and emotional resonance.

For me, the most unusual yet most fundamental source of inspiration has always been the user. Through more than a decade of professional design practice, along with invaluable experiences gained while studying and working in the United States, I’ve come to realize that design is not merely about making objects more visually appealing. It is about truly standing in the user’s shoes—observing how they live, move, and interact with objects in their daily lives. Whether in interior design or in the creation of furniture and lighting, my core objective has remained consistent: design must become an integral part of everyday life—something people touch, use, and rely on over time. The most inspiring challenge for me lies in making these interactions intuitive and comfortable, while seamlessly integrating craftsmanship, creativity, and beauty. This principle has become the foundation of my approach to furniture and lighting design.

What I wish more people understood is that design isn’t a single spark of inspiration—it’s a systematic, iterative process. From concept development and material selection to structural testing and real user interaction, every stage requires deep thinking and careful refinement. This is especially true in furniture and lighting. The chair’s height, a fixture’s beam angle, the tactility of a surface—seemingly minor decisions can profoundly shape everyday comfort and user experience. Often, the real value of design resides in details that aren’t immediately visible. At its core, design is about balancing aesthetics, function, and user needs, while ensuring the work stands the test of time. In other words, good design isn’t just the “first-look wow”; it’s the lasting sense of ease, delight, and emotional connection that remains after years of use.

For me, design is not about compromise but about dialogue. Balancing client expectations with my own design vision starts with understanding the real motivations behind their requests. Often, what clients ask for is not the final solution, but rather an expression of their concerns, aspirations, or constraints. That’s why I always begin with listening and asking the right questions—to uncover what they truly need. From there, I respond with design proposals that address their expectations while preserving the integrity and aesthetics of the work. For example, in furniture and lighting design, if a client emphasizes cost reduction, I don’t simply downgrade materials. Instead, I explore modular structures or innovative craftsmanship that maintain both beauty and functionality. This process relies on honesty, professionalism, and continuous communication. In the end, the most successful outcomes are not about who makes concessions, but about creating a solution that satisfies the user, the client, and the designer alike.

One of the main challenges in the Timeless Luxury in a Studio Suite of Black, Gold, and Passion project was the limitation of space and scale. The apartment itself was compact, yet I wanted to create an immersive retreat that conveyed both a sense of luxury and intimacy. Simply adding more decoration or expensive materials would have made the space feel cluttered and heavy. To overcome this, I focused on details and composition. I used furniture and lighting to extend the perception of space—for example, a black leather sofa paired with brass accents to anchor the room without overwhelming it. Glass partitions and carefully placed lighting created transparency and rhythm, enhancing both openness and intimacy. Another challenge was achieving harmony between aesthetics and functionality. For me, good design must not only look beautiful but also improve daily life. That’s why I selected materials with both durability and tactile richness, such as silk, velvet, and embossed metal, allowing users to experience a layered sense of comfort over time. Beyond planning and design, I also engaged directly in the making process. I personally installed the tiles between the kitchen cabinets, painted the cement walls in the bathroom, and mounted the wainscoting panels throughout the suite. These hands-on tasks presented many unknowns and required me to translate design into execution. This experience not only brought the project closer to my original vision but also expanded my skills, strengthening my ability to bridge design with craftsmanship. It later became a foundation for my work in furniture and lighting design, where understanding both conceptual design and the making process is essential. Ultimately, the way I overcame these challenges was not by adding more, but by refining proportions, materials, and light—and by physically building parts of the project myself. This process transformed a compact space into a refined, functional, and emotionally resonant environment. It also reaffirmed a core principle I carry into all my furniture and lighting design work: that details and craftsmanship define the true quality of a space.

For me, creativity is not an endless stream—it needs to be constantly nourished and renewed. When I face a creative block, I choose to “step outside.” Traveling, visiting art exhibitions, exploring old markets or craft districts often helps me break free from fixed patterns of thinking and discover new inspirations from culture and everyday details. I also return to nature. Walking through forest trails or observing the play of light on water and architecture helps me regain sensitivity to material, proportion, and light. Equally important, I enjoy talking with users. Even casual conversations often reveal how people truly live, move, and interact with objects—these insights spark unexpected ideas that I might not find on my own. Finally, I recharge by working with my hands—woodworking, collage, or experimental model-making. These practices often lead to surprising solutions during the process. To me, recharging isn’t about forcing inspiration. It’s about opening up my mind and senses through exploration, interaction, and making. When I return to the design table, I carry fresh perspectives and renewed energy to move forward. Over time, this habit of stepping away and re-engaging has also become part of my personal values—it reminds me that design is inseparable from life, and that inspiration often comes when I allow myself to slow down and reconnect with the world.

One of the core values I always carry into my work is authenticity. For me, design is not only about aesthetics—it must also be honest in how it is crafted and how it is experienced. This perspective comes from my early years in Taiwan when I founded my own design studio, where I learned that creativity must walk hand in hand with functionality in order to truly make an impact. Another value I hold strongly is empathy. Over the years, working directly with users and clients has taught me the importance of listening and translating real needs into meaningful design solutions. This mindset was further strengthened during my time at RISD, where the critical thinking environment pushed me to see design not just as an object, but as a medium that connects people with their surroundings and daily lives. Finally, I bring in the spirit of hands-on craftsmanship. Whether it was laying kitchen tiles, painting concrete walls, or installing wood panels myself, these experiences taught me to deeply respect materials and construction details. They also gave me an appreciation for how tactile experiences and functional structures can carry emotional value. This practical foundation continues to inform my work in furniture and lighting design, where I strive to balance usability, craft, and beauty.

I believe the key to success in design comes down to three things: staying curious, developing a cross-disciplinary mindset, and committing to practice. Design is not only about forms or drawings—it is fundamentally about understanding people, observing life, and creating solutions that improve daily experiences. When we remain curious, we can discover inspiration everywhere, from culture and nature to the smallest details of everyday life. At the same time, design requires critical thinking and a cross-disciplinary perspective. Whether it’s furniture, lighting, or interior space, good design always finds a balance between function, aesthetics, craftsmanship, and market relevance. Exploring across different fields makes design thinking more complete, and helps the work resonate with diverse contexts of use. Finally, design demands hands-on experimentation and long-term persistence. Ideas only become meaningful when they are realized. By testing materials, techniques, and methods—embracing both successes and failures—we refine our own design language and strengthen our creative voice. For me, design is not a sprint but a marathon. Only by continuously exploring, thinking across boundaries, and practicing relentlessly can design truly create lasting value and remain meaningful over time.

If I could choose, I would most love to collaborate with Thomas Heatherwick. He is a truly cross-disciplinary designer, whose work spans architecture, public installations, urban planning, furniture, and product design. What inspires me most is how he consistently blurs the boundaries between categories—making architecture feel like sculpture, furniture like a narrative, and public space like a piece of living art. I am especially drawn to his Seed Cathedral, which resembles a giant dandelion shimmering and swaying in the wind. To me, it symbolizes how design ideas, like dandelion seeds, can travel across the world and take root in unexpected places. It is not only visually powerful but also an immersive, multi-sensory experience that conveys deep values of nature, culture, and emotion. I admire Heatherwick’s ability to weave together materials, light, structure, craft, and storytelling into a unified vision. His sensitivity to detail and scale shows how design can be both practical and poetic. If given the chance to collaborate with him, I would hope to bring my own focus on human-centered furniture and lighting design into dialogue with his expansive narrative and cross-disciplinary approach. Together, I believe we could create work that moves people, bridges disciplines, and endures across time.

The question I wish people would ask is: “What kind of life experience do you want your designs to create for people?” My answer is that design has never been just about form or style—it is about how people feel understood and cared for in their everyday lives. Whether it’s a piece of furniture, a lighting fixture, or an entire space, I want my designs to serve as a bridge between people and their daily living. When someone sits in a chair, turns on a lamp, or touches a material, I hope they experience comfort, joy, and even create memories that stay with them. I truly believe that good design eventually becomes invisible—not because it disappears, but because it integrates so deeply into daily life that it feels natural, essential, and timeless. That is the value I continuously strive to pursue in my work.