In the sprawling studio of Vector Architects in Beijing, artificial boulders appear scattered across the floor, like the remnants of a recent landslide. Their surfaces are rugged, craggy, and meticulously sculpted in polystyrene before being coated with a chalky gray plaster, evoking a primordial landscape.
Some of these abstract forms have striking architectural designs sprouting from them: a modern house with a barrel-vaulted roof perched on one rock, while another features industrial-like structures clustered together, interwoven by an intricate colonnade. Yet another “boulder” resembles a sacred site, with deep terraces and rectangular pits that evoke a long-lost burial ground.
These enigmatic models are the visions of Dong Gong, an architect celebrated for his atmospheric, soulful spaces that blend harmoniously with their natural surroundings. Known for crafting libraries, schools, and museums that seem to grow from, or be carved into, their settings, Gong’s work is both visually striking and carefully attuned to the specifics of each site. Among his most admired works is the Seashore Library in Aranya, a stunning concrete structure by the ocean. With its angled light shafts and sculpted walls, it conjures memories of Le Corbusier’s La Tourette monastery, reimagined for a beachside setting in China.
Gong’s approach to architecture has made him a visionary figure in China. Unlike many architects working in the country’s fast-paced construction sector, he advocates for slowing down, finding meaning in the existing environment, and weaving the past into the present. His work is emblematic of a generation of Chinese architects who value the enduring quality of materials, place, and craft.
As China’s economy has cooled in recent years, the architectural landscape has shifted along with it. “The economic slowdown has allowed us to take stock,” Gong explains from his office, where a framed drawing of Le Corbusier’s monastery leans against the wall. “It means we can slow down too, and rediscover a kind of thoughtfulness.”
For many years, China’s building industry was defined by frenetic growth and relentless demolition. Major developers tore down traditional neighborhoods to make way for high-rise developments and grand commercial complexes. But with economic growth slowing, clients and architects like Gong are exploring different possibilities. “Where demolition was once the default,” says Gong, “we now have the option of retaining and reusing existing structures,” an approach that benefits both heritage preservation and environmental sustainability.
This newfound sense of restraint dovetails with the government’s recent emphasis on rural revitalization. Chinese authorities have pivoted their focus from megacities to smaller, rural communities, encouraging designs that reflect local history and culture. This shift has aligned perfectly with what many young urbanites call jizhu xiangchou, or “rural nostalgia” — a yearning for the simplicity and tranquility of a pastoral lifestyle. Against the backdrop of these trends, Gong’s work has struck a deep chord, especially among a younger, increasingly environmentally conscious audience.
Born in 1972, Dong Gong received his architectural education at Tsinghua University in Beijing before earning a Master’s degree from the University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign. He then worked for prominent architects such as Richard Meier and Steven Holl in New York, gaining a perspective that would shape his approach back in China. In 2008, he founded Vector Architects in Beijing, with a mission to explore thoughtful, small-scale projects and sustainable building practices.
This background gives Gong a distinct vantage point compared to other architects in China, many of whom are products of the domestic construction boom. Whereas previous generations focused on grand urban development, Gong and his contemporaries are intent on reviving vernacular techniques, emphasizing craftsmanship, and reinterpreting traditional architectural forms.
Gong’s designs blend an elemental quality with modern sensibilities. His buildings are sensory experiences, where the play of light, the feel of different materials, and the atmosphere of each room invite a deep, meditative engagement. As he puts it, “Architecture needs to reclaim its raison d’être — to soothe our body and soul.”
Vector Architects’ projects are thoughtfully documented in a newly published English-language monograph, showcasing about 20 projects. Among the highlights is the Yangshuo Sugar House, located in Guangxi’s lush mountains. Initially, the site was a derelict sugar mill from the 1960s, a relic most developers would have been eager to raze. But Gong saw its potential, transforming the abandoned structure into a boutique hotel that captures both the romance of its industrial past and the serenity of its natural surroundings.
The hotel is a masterpiece of reinvention, with new wings flanking the old mill. Concrete blocks with delicate perforations add a textured, light-filtering quality, while bamboo canopies connect the various structures. With its classical columns and jaw-dropping limestone peaks in the background, the hotel has become an instant sensation on Chinese social media. But beyond the aesthetics, Gong’s dedication to quality and craftsmanship shines through. Unable to find a manufacturer to produce the exact concrete blocks he envisioned, Gong’s team took on the task themselves, creating the blocks on-site. This hands-on approach allowed them to tailor each element, achieving a level of precision seldom seen in China’s construction industry.
“Building in China can be challenging,” Gong admits. “The builders don’t necessarily look at the drawings. It’s a constant battle, every day.” To meet his standards, Vector Architects assigns site architects to supervise every project stage, from material selection to installation, a practice that can mean long on-site assignments far from home. “They become like the mafia guy,” Gong jokes, “reporting everything back here to the office so we can keep on top of every detail.”
Gong’s work stands out for its craftsmanship and attention to detail, attributes that are rare in a field where speed and scale often take precedence. His studio is filled with large working models, which allow his team to test light, shadow, and spatial relationships. One such model of the Seashore Library features a mechanism that slides the building apart, exposing the intricate layout inside. Other models showcase bold designs with brutalist elements, such as concrete waffle ceilings, evoking the style of modernist giants like Le Corbusier and Louis Kahn.
In recent years, Gong’s work has taken on a slightly surreal quality, reflecting his desire to create spaces that evoke wonder. His Chapel of Music, completed last year in Aranya, is an example. This architectural gem invites visitors to follow a curving ramp to a towering concrete chamber, crowned by a circular skylight. Copper tubes channel sound between levels, creating an ethereal experience where music seems to emanate from the walls themselves. “It’s like music from heaven,” Gong says with a smile.
While these works are undeniably striking, their heavy reliance on concrete has raised questions about sustainability. “We’re now trying to use less concrete,” Gong admits, noting that concrete remains the cheapest option in China due to a lack of alternatives. With China setting ambitious carbon targets, he believes that stricter standards for timber and other materials are on the horizon.
As China moves toward a greener economy, addressing the environmental impact of buildings has become a priority. The country currently accounts for two-thirds of global wind and solar projects under construction, but embodied carbon in buildings remains a significant challenge. Gong’s designs are beloved for their tactile, earthy qualities, but they also demand immense resources. “China now has clear carbon targets,” Gong says, “so I think it will happen,” referring to new regulations that will incentivize sustainable building materials.
For Dong Gong and other pioneering architects, this transition represents an opportunity to redefine what modern Chinese architecture can look like. Their challenge is to retain the richness and warmth of their designs without over-relying on resource-intensive materials like concrete.
Dong Gong’s work is more than just a collection of buildings; it is a movement toward cultural reconnection. In a country where rapid urbanization has often come at the cost of heritage, his buildings remind us of the value in preserving the past, while still embracing modernity. His designs honor natural landscapes, drawing viewers to reflect on the environment and their connection to it. In this way, Gong’s work is as much about philosophy as it is about architecture.
His belief in slower, more deliberate design processes challenges the prevailing ethos of rapid development. And by prioritizing craftsmanship and local materiality, Gong has pioneered a distinctive architectural language that resonates with a generation eager for a more mindful, sustainable future.
