Interviews with Hao Zhong

Yuchen: I was initially amazed by how architecture can create these tiny moments that completely change our behavior.. I realized that buildings weren't just shelters; they were these powerful tools that could influence how we move, feel, and interact with each other. As I started to appreaciate that architecture could create these behavioral shifts, I was completely drawn to it. It felt like discovering a hidden language that speaks directly to our instincts.

Hao: Design is rarely a linear process, and the emotions it brings are complicated. I constantly move between moments of fulfillment and frustration, highs and lows—but I appreciate each part of it. It definitely feels rewarding when design got realized. Knowing that these spaces will exist for years to come and have the potential to create meaningful moments for people brings a deep sense of fulfillment.

Yuchen: Don't fall in love with your first idea and spend time with people who aren't designers—they'll keep you grounded and show you problems you'd never notice otherwise.
Hao: The next iteration is always better

Designers have the power to shape how people live, and that comes with serious responsibility. We're not just making objects or buildings - we're influencing behavior, resource consumption, and social interaction. With climate change accelerating, every design decision is essentially having an impact on the future we will be in. That's why we think projects like Spira Silva matter so much - we're proving that sustainable alternatives aren't compromises, they're the future. Designers need to think beyond the immediate client and consider the ripple effects of their work on communities and ecosystems.

Yuchen: I look at user experience and impact first - both immediate and long-term. Does it improve people's daily experience? Does it contribute positively to the environment? With Spira Silva, we asked whether each decision was moving us toward a more sustainable future.
Hao: I don't necessarily have an answer. Every design serves a specific purpose, and I think a project can be considered successful if it effectively meets its goals and fulfills its intended function in a thoughtful and meaningful way.

The main focus was to explore how timber’s natural responsiveness could produce a new architectural vocabulary for tall buildings—one that is materially efficient, low-carbon, and experientially rich. We wanted to show that mass timber can rise beyond its typical use in mid-rise buildings and become a catalyst for innovation in skyscraper design.

Beyond its conceptual exploration, the intention for Spira Silva is to share the project with a larger audience—through competitions, publications, and research forums—to inspire and inform the future of timber construction.

This was a self-initiated exploration, driven by our strong interest in timber construction and its untapped potential in high-rise architecture. We wanted to investigate how a sustainable, low-carbon material could not only replace conventional systems but also actively generate form, structure, and spatial experience.

High-rise design remains dominated by steel and concrete, especially in New York, where strict fire-safety codes limit timber use. You rarely see tall timber structures in the city. We wanted to reimagine how a timber skyscraper could contribute to the urban fabric and the skyline while meeting performance and safety standards.

Urban residents, creative companies, and future-oriented developers seeking sustainable, low-carbon buildings with unique spatial and architectural qualities.

Unlike most timber towers, which simply replace concrete with CLT but maintain conventional form, Spira Silva lets the material dictate geometry. The twisted panels shape structure, form, and space simultaneously—creating terraces, carved interiors, shade pockets, and a dynamic silhouette without additional components.

“Spira” refers to the spiral or twisting motion of the CLT panels, while “Silva,” meaning “forest” or “wood” in Latin, reflects the project’s material origin. The name also resonates with the Latin cultural history of Williamsburg, which has long been a hub for Puerto Rican, Dominican, and Ecuadorian communities. By drawing on Latin roots, the name connects the tower to both the materiality of timber and the rich, evolving cultural fabric of its neighborhood. Together, “Spira Silva” expresses a timber forest spiraling upward, anchored in both material and place.

I used computational tools to model material behavior, simulate moisture-driven curvature, and test geometric outcomes. Parametric modeling software supported the development of the twisted façade system, while conventional architectural tools were used for planning and visualization.

The integration of structural logic, form generation, and spatial expression into a single process—self-shaping timber—makes the design unique. The material itself becomes the generator of the architecture.

Parametric modeling streamlined the wayfinding and geometry generation process, allowing us to control rotation angles, panel spacing, and curvature across the entire façade. Structural analysis and simulation tools helped verify that the self-shaping panels could perform safely, providing confidence that the “crazy” twisting concept was possible. AI-assisted tools also played a key role in visualization, enabling rapid exploration of lighting, materiality, and spatial experience. Together, these technologies bridged the gap between experimental design, engineering rigor, and immersive presentation.

Spira Silva is grounded in both material research and precedent studies. A key influence was the Urbach Tower research, which demonstrated how twisting timber elements and parametric design can create complex, inhabitable forms while maintaining structural integrity. This project reinforced the idea that natural material behavior—like timber’s self-shaping tendencies—can drive architecture rather than limit it.

One of the main challenges was finding a balance between structural feasibility and aesthetic ambition. Twisting CLT panels are inherently expressive, but their curvature and rotation had to remain within tolerances that ensure safety and constructability. Another key challenge was integrating multiple functions into a single system: the panels not only define the building’s form and provide structural support, but also regulate daylighting, creating terraces, shaded pockets, and sculpted interiors. Balancing these interdependent roles—structure, form, and environmental performance—required careful iterative testing through parametric modeling and simulation tools, ensuring that the tower remained both visually striking and technically achievable.

The project challenges conventional high-rise design and contributes to the global dialogue about sustainable construction. We believed it could offer a meaningful perspective to the design and construction community.

We work for different firms but collaborate as design partners on projects we're passionate about. It's an interesting dynamic—we bring different perspectives from our backgrounds and combine them into something unique. We complement each other's strengths really well.

Design is problem-solving with empathy. It's about understanding what people actually need, and finding elegant solutions that become vehicles to address those needs while serving the greater good.

Spira Silva is definitely our favorite. It's a timber skyscraper that challenged what we thought we knew about high-rise construction. The whole concept started when we became fascinated by timber's potential to revolutionize sustainable building at a larger scale. Most people think of wood as something for small, cozy buildings, but we saw an opportunity to prove that engineered timber could create dramatic, soaring structures while drastically reducing carbon footprint and show that sustainability doesn't mean compromising on ambition or beauty.

Hao: During my first internship at an architecture firm, I had the opportunity to design a feature slat wall for their new office. It was incredibly rewarding to see the design move quickly from concept to construction, offering me an early and tangible experience of how ideas take shape in the built environment.

We have a deep appreciation for wood and timber construction. While our professional work doesn’t involve timber structures, we continue to explore this material in our own research and design practice. This passion was a major inspiration behind our decision to develop timber construction concepts for Spira Silva.

Yuchen: Early mornings with coffee, or late at night when the world gets quiet. There's something magical about those threshold moments when the world and the noise aren’t fully on yet.

Yuchen: User experience and societal benefit. We ask: Does this solve the actual problem? Is it intuitive? Does it create a greater good and societal benefit? The aesthetics come naturally once the function is right.

Hao: Design is rarely a linear process, and the emotions it brings are complicated. I constantly move between moments of fulfillment and frustration, highs and lows—but I appreciate each part of it.

It feels rewarding. Knowing that these spaces will exist for years to come and have the potential to create meaningful moments for people brings a deep sense of fulfillment.

Hao: I don't necessarily have an answer. Every design serves a specific purpose, and I think a project can be considered successful if it effectively meets its goals and fulfills its intended function in a thoughtful and meaningful way.

We look at user experience and impact first - both immediate and long-term. Does it improve people's daily experience? Does it contribute positively to the environment? With Spira Silva, we asked whether each decision was moving us toward a more sustainable future.

Designers have the power to shape how people live, and that comes with serious responsibility. We're not just making objects or buildings - we're influencing behavior, resource consumption, and social interaction. With climate change accelerating, every design decision is essentially having an impact on the future we will be in. That's why we think projects like Spira Silva matter so much - we're proving that sustainable alternatives aren't compromises, they're the future. Designers need to think beyond the immediate client and consider the ripple effects of their work on communities and ecosystems.

Design is becoming less about pure aesthetics and more about systems thinking. The future belongs to designers who can tackle complex, interdependent challenges - like how timber construction can address both housing shortages and carbon emissions simultaneously. We're seeing the emergence of regenerative design that doesn't just minimize harm but actively heals or call for the society to act in a regenerative direction. AI will handle a lot of the routine work, freeing designers to focus on the big design questions about how we want to live together. The future of design will be those who understand that good design isn't just functional or beautiful - it's restorative.

The context of each project offers unique inspiration. We always begin by deeply exploring the site's history, culture, and natural surroundings to inform our design approach. In addition to these contextual influences, we draw creative energy from a wide range of art forms—literature, film, music, anime, and more—which helps us bring fresh perspectives and emotional depth to our work

We are Chinese designers based in New York City. Although we haven’t had the opportunity to practice in our home country yet, our cultural heritage deeply influences the way we approach design. Many of the philosophies that shape our work are rooted in Chinese culture, yet we find them to be universally relevant. Our goal is to bridge the gap between cultures by interpreting these ideas in ways that are locally grounded and contextually appropriate

We're pretty chaotic at the beginning - lots of late-night conversations, preliminary sketches, and "what if" questions that probably sound irrational to outsiders. We prototype everything, even abstract concepts. We're constantly bouncing ideas back and forth. The real breakthrough usually comes around at least after five iterations, when we stop trying to force our preconceptions and start listening to what the project wants to be.

Hao: couch, living room floor lamp, office chair, cups for different purposes, mirror

Yuchen: Don't fall in love with your first idea and spend time with people who aren't designers—they'll keep you grounded and show you problems you'd never notice otherwise.

Hao: One of the most rewarding parts of being a designer is the opportunity to be creative and solve problems. On the other hand, a challenging part of the profession is that your work is constantly subject to critique, and the fear of disapproval can sometimes be discouraging.
Yuchen: The most rewarding part is knowing your work can outlast you and create a positive impact on the community. The challenging side is the constant weight of responsibility and self-doubt. Every design decision has consequences, and you're always second-guessing whether you've considered all the needs and impacts.

Hao: Critical thinking, self-reflection, and the ability to learn quickly are essential.
Yuchen: Curiosity and systems thinking are essential. Empathy is crucial too, because you're designing for people whose experiences might be completely different from yourself.

All popular 2D and 3D design softwares, and we’re continually expanding our toolkit. Recently, we've begun integrating AI tools like Midjourney, Veras, and Magnific into our workflow to enhance visualization, ideation, and efficiency.

Defining priorities is important. Once you have a clear understanding of the scope of work and the order in which tasks should be executed, it becomes much easier to manage your time effectively and allocate it where it's needed most.

Hao: It really depends on the scale and complexity of the project—it can range from weeks to months, or even years. Personally, I believe a good design is never truly finished. Even after it's realized, there's always room for reflection and improvement.
Yuchen: Like Hao said, it varies quite a lot. But I think about design time differently - it's not just the active designing period, but the years of observation and thinking that inform each project.

Hao: Yuchen and I are working for different companies.
Yuchen: As Hao mentioned, we work for different companies in our day jobs, which gives us diverse perspectives and networks. And we usually come together if we see something that excites us both.

Yuchen: Projects where we have the opportunity to dig deep into human behavior and challenge previous assumptions. The messier and more complex the problem, the more interesting the solution tends to be.

You can find us on LinkedIn
Or directly email us: zhonghaocfu@gmail.com, yauyueson@gmail.com
Or dm us on Instagram: haozhoong, yauyueson

Spira Silva’s form translates the qualities of natural growth into an urban high-rise condition. The tower’s twisting geometry emulates the tapering and expansion you find in organic structures, while the CLT surface gives the building a warm, tactile presence that contrasts with the industrial waterfront context.Placed along the Williamsburg shoreline, the twisted panels open and close strategically to bring daylight deep into the interiors, create terraces, and frame views of the river. In this way, the form and material work together to blur the boundary between natural and built environments, suggesting a future for Brooklyn where sustainable construction and biophilic design coexist at the scale of the skyline.

Because the twisting geometry needed to be both expressive and structurally feasible, parametric tools played a crucial role. We built a Grasshopper-based system that allowed us to control rotation angles, panel spacing, and curvature based on structural constraints and daylighting performance.This parametric model was linked to simplified structural analysis tools to evaluate panel bending limits, load paths, and lateral stiffness. By iterating between geometry generation and structural feedback, we achieved a balance: the panels twist enough to create the spatial and aesthetic richness we sought, yet remain within tolerances that CLT fabrication and on-site assembly can handle. The final form is therefore not arbitrary—it’s the outcome of a tightly integrated digital workflow.

The variation from floor to floor emerges directly from the twisting panels. Because the perimeter expands and contracts, each level naturally lends itself to different programmatic opportunities.We embraced this as a design strategy: office floors benefit from the wider, more open geometries to maximize daylight and flexible layouts, while residential floors take advantage of more intimate, sculpted interior zones. This inherent variation supports a true mixed-use environment, where the tower can house diverse activities without forcing a uniform spatial template. Instead, each floor plate becomes a response to the building’s changing geometry, creating a richer set of spatial experiences for occupants.

Working with twisted CLT pushed us far beyond conventional high-rise construction methods. One of the earliest challenges was ensuring that curved panels remained structurally viable and prefabrication-friendly. This required close study of grain orientation, lamination patterns, moisture behavior, and panel thickness.Another challenge was developing connections that accommodate slight rotations without overcomplicating assembly. These constraints ultimately shaped the degree of twist we pursued and informed the tower’s vertical structural rhythm. Rather than seeing these limitations as obstacles, we treated them as design drivers—letting the natural behavior of CLT define what was possible and grounding the final form in material logic.

The metaphor of living within a tree guided our decisions from concept through detailing. Trees grow through layered fibers, gradual rotation, and adaptive structure—qualities we translated into the building’s twisting CLT envelope.This metaphor also informed the interior atmosphere. The warm timber surfaces, carved alcoves, shifting volumes, and light filtering through layered panels are all meant to evoke the qualities of inhabiting a living organism rather than a mechanical tower. The goal was to create an environment that feels grounded, tactile, and organic even as it rises above the city.

Spira Silva’s placement along the Williamsburg waterfront was a deliberate decision shaped by both context and ambition. Located beside Domino Park in one of Brooklyn’s fastest-developing neighborhoods, the site offers high visibility, constant foot traffic, and a dramatic backdrop formed by the Williamsburg Bridge. But equally important, positioning the project directly on the East River allows the building to be experienced from Manhattan—inviting people across the water to appreciate its form, materiality, and contribution to the skyline.This visibility became especially meaningful given the project’s use of mass timber. Timber high-rises or timber construction remain exceptionally rare in New York due to code and fire-safety constraints, so part of the design’s mission was to reimagine how a timber skyscraper could enrich the city. The tower’s twisted geometry showcases its structural logic while opening views toward the river, park, and bridge, appearing as a warm, sculptural counterpoint to the steel-and-concrete landscape when seen from across the water.

Our early simulations tested how different rotations and surface angles affected solar exposure across the podium and tower. These iterative studies identified a geometry that maximized daylight penetration while reducing direct solar heat gain on the most exposed façades. At the same time, we had to constrain the extent of the twist to maintain structural integrity—so the final form represents a careful balance between daylighting/environmental optimization and structural efficiency.

Spira Silva demonstrates that mass timber can move beyond flat plates and rectilinear forms and become an active generator of spatial and structural innovation in high-rise architecture. By relying on a single repeated panel, twisted through controlled logic, the project shows how variation and architectural richness can be achieved through prefabrication rather than complexity.We hope the work encourages future developments to explore timber not just as a sustainable alternative, but as a material capable of redefining urban typologies—making tall buildings lighter, warmer, and more environmentally responsive.

The variation from open to enclosed spaces across the tower was intentionally crafted to support both individual comfort and community engagement. Large, open office zones promote transparency and collaboration, while the narrower, sculpted residential spaces create a sense of intimacy and retreat.