Church of Root Team

Yi (Rachel): Being recognized by the MUSE Design Awards is deeply meaningful. The award celebrates the kind of interdisciplinary work I care most about: work that integrates aesthetics, building performance, community building, and environmental awareness. Jian: Being recognized by the MUSE Design Awards validates the rigor behind my work and motivates me to continue pushing for thoughtful, human-centered design. Tian: This recognition is a meaningful affirmation of the work I dedicate myself to—design rooted in performance, sustainability, and scientific rigor. It encourages me to continue advancing ideas that blend environmental intelligence with architectural vision.

Yi (Rachel): Being recognized by the MUSE Design Award has significantly strengthened my professional visibility and credibility as an architect. It has reinforced trust in my design leadership. Since receiving the award, I’ve increasingly become the point of reference for architectural insight, creative strategy, and design decision-making within my professional circles. This recognition serves as a strong validation of my contributions to the field and has already opened opportunities for new collaborations, advisory roles, and design stewardship. Jian: This award has increased visibility for my work and builds on my previous achievements in minimal dwelling design, retreat center design, re-draw design, and photography competitions. It has opened new opportunities for collaboration, design discussions, and conceptual exploration within my team and the broader design community. Tian: The award has strengthened my professional credibility across design and technology communities. It has led to new collaborations, invitations to contribute to research discussions, and greater trust in my ability to lead performance-driven design efforts. It also reinforces my long-term commitment to advancing resilient, future-oriented architecture.

Yi (Rachel): Experimentation is central to my creative process and often drives my most original work. In my Urban Regeneration project in New York, I introduced an imaginative fictional character as a design lens—an unconventional method that helped me test human-centric experiences in a more nuanced way. This approach allowed me to generate insights beyond traditional analysis and is one example of how I develop innovative, people-focused design strategies. Jian: Experimentation is essential to my process. In my Retreat Center project, I explored natural elements—water, fire, earth, sky, and wood—as spatial motifs, using form, light, and materiality to interpret each component of an abstract architectural way. Tian: Experimentation drives my design thinking. I frequently build analytical and speculative models to test how form, climate, and performance interact. In one project, I prototyped multiple façade geometries under extreme heat scenarios, allowing the environmental data to directly inform the architectural strategy. This process enables me to generate solutions that are both efficient and innovative.

Yi (Rachel): One of the most unexpected sources of inspiration came from a documentary on Native American history. As I watched their stories of displacement, resilience, and spiritual connection to land, I began thinking about how architecture could serve as a form of cultural protection. This led me to explore the idea of “weaponized architecture”—not in the literal sense of aggression, but as a symbolic and spatial shield that preserves identity, safeguards community, and resists erasure. Jian: One of my most unusual inspirations came from the baobab trees of Madagascar, whose forms and cultural symbolism influenced a conceptual exploration of sacred space. Tian: I was once inspired by the thermal mapping of heatwaves—the gradients and movement of invisible air currents. That moment sparked a design exploration where spatial form responded to heat flow, leading to a proposal that engaged climate as a dynamic design partner.

Yi (Rachel): One thing I wish more people understood is that design is far more rigorous and layered than it appears. In my project, Saline Dreams, the work wasn’t just about creating a beautiful landscape; it required understanding ecology, environmental performance, cultural history, technology, and human experience all at once. Great design is the integration of these invisible layers. It’s research, iteration, and careful decision-making that ultimately shape a place’s meaning and lasting influence on both people and the planet. Jian: I wish more people understood that minimal design is not “doing less” but thinking more. A good minimal solution comes from many rounds of refinement and critical editing. In my Minimal Dwelling Design Competition project, the final simplicity was the result of repeatedly questioning every line, space, and function until only what truly served the user and the concept remained. Tian: Design is not just visual—it’s deeply analytical. Behind every project is research, simulation, iteration, and systems thinking. When done well, design aligns beauty with performance, sustainability, and long-term resilience. Those invisible layers are what give architecture lasting meaning.

Yi (Rachel): I approach design as a partnership. Instead of choosing between client expectations and my own ideas, I look for alignment through purpose. When we focus on impact—sustainability, user experience, long-term value—clients feel reassured, and the design remains authentic to its core vision. Jian: I start by understanding the client’s core values rather than only their stated requests. In the Longview House project—which later received recognition in the 8th Annual AIANY Residential Interiors Review—the client’s love for nature became the foundation of the design. I created a proposal that merged the house with its site, allowing architecture and landscape to feel inseparable. By aligning my design vision with their desire for a nature-integrated home, the final result satisfied both their expectations and my own commitment to contextual, human-centered design. Tian: I align design decisions with shared goals, including efficiency, comfort, long-term value, and environmental performance. When clients understand how each choice contributes to operational cost and efficiency, design integrity and client expectations naturally reinforce each other.

Yi (Rachel): One major challenge was designing with materials and construction methods suitable for a context with extreme resource scarcity in Madagascar. My team had to work creatively with what was locally available and develop structures that could be realistically installed on site. By embracing these constraints as design drivers, I was able to create solutions that were both feasible and true to the project’s environmental intent. Jian: The biggest challenge was understanding the site—its climate, culture, and local materials. Once I grasped these conditions, I could shape a design that was responsive, grounded, and sustainable. Tian: The main challenge was meeting ambitious environmental performance targets within tight spatial and technical constraints. I overcame this by running iterative simulations, refining material strategies, and letting performance data guide the design. It resulted in a solution that is both functional and forward-looking.

Yi (Rachel): I recharge by stepping into other worlds—photographing distant horizons, painting in quiet hours, or wandering through nature. These shifts in perspective help me leap outside the box, loosening the boundaries of routine so my imagination can breathe again. Jian: I reset my creativity by walking through cities and observing everyday patterns—reminding myself why design matters. Tian: I enjoy nature and scientific observation—patterns of light, movement, temperature, and landscape. These moments help me approach design with fresh clarity and renewed curiosity.

Yi (Rachel): I believe architecture can elevate how people live, work, and feel, and I aim to create spaces that become meaningful memories. A project of mine that exemplifies this is Culinary Eden, where indoor farming, kitchen labs, and community spaces converge to redefine how people experience food and nature. By integrating light, structure, and ecology into one cohesive environment, the project embodies my commitment to designing spaces that inspire connection, learning, and everyday well-being. Jian: A core value I bring into my work is designing from the user’s perspective. In a recent New York City station project, I focused on how people actually experience transit spaces—movement, clarity, comfort, and emotional cues. Instead of treating the station as only an infrastructure node, I approached it as a public space that should serve the city’s everyday life. This mindset guides me to create environments where circulation, light, and materiality enhance the human experience, not just meet functional requirements. Tian: My work is guided by clarity, responsibility, and environmental stewardship. Years of research in building performance and sustainability have shaped my belief that architecture must support comfort, resilience, and long-term well-being.

Yi (Rachel): To me, architecture carries the spirit of an April day—full of renewal, hope, and quiet possibility. My advice to aspiring designers is: Let your work be someone’s April day. Stay curious, stay open, and believe that thoughtful design can genuinely uplift people’s lives. Jian: Stay curious, embrace failure, and focus on ideas—not just tools. Strong design comes from insight and persistence. Tian: Master your craft, stay curious, and build fluency across disciplines. Today’s challenges demand designers who think creatively and analytically. Let your ideas be bold, but let your decisions be informed.

Yi (Rachel): I would choose Tadao Ando for his poetic use of light and shadow. His work creates sensations beyond three dimensions, and I’d love to explore that depth of emotion through design with him. Jian: I would choose Shigeru Ban or Peter Zumthor—one for his experimental structures, the other for his poetic spatial sensibility. Tian: I would choose Ken Yeang for his pioneering vision of ecological design. His integration of biology, climate, and architecture aligns with my pursuit of performance-driven, environmentally responsive design.

Yi (Rachel): I wish people would ask me, “What do you ultimately hope your architecture gives to the world?” I would say: I hope my work inspires a sense of hope, calm, and possibility. Architecture has the power to shape how people feel, how they remember, and how they connect with one another. If a space I design can elevate someone’s day, even for a brief moment, then to me, that is the highest purpose of design. Jian: I wish people would ask me, “What do you hope design can change?” and my answer would be that I hope design can make public spaces more inclusive, offering meaningful experiences for people of all backgrounds. Tian: I wish people would ask me, “What impact do you want your work to make?” and to that I would say that I want my work to contribute to a more climate-resilient future—architecture that reduces environmental impact, enhances comfort, and helps communities adapt to a changing world. If my design can support both people and the planet, then it has achieved its purpose.