Design as Experience Research

Yung Ho Chang

In the Chinese language, the name of our practice, Feichang Jianzhu (FCJZ), can mean different things in different contexts. The phrase can be spoken as a noun to mean “extraordinary building” or as an adjective that expresses the description “very architectonic.” The interpretation that my architect father jokingly claims is his favorite is “abnormal architecture,” which is perhaps the least complimentary one of all. However, increasingly, I find myself in agreement with him, since at Feichang Jianzhu, besides space and its enclosure, we tend to wonder if we can in fact “design” the way in which people encounter the world and live their lives; in other words, we seek to design experience— tangible, physical experience.

If the experience with a building needs to be materialized in a customary, standard manner, we assume the typical role of an architect (with pleasure); however, if the experience calls for more than the standard, requiring a different final outcome, then we may wear a few hats, switching between the architect hat and other design hats to tailor other design aspects. For example, we may produce utensils for eating, or come up with alternative formats for reading—but of course, while still always using the knowledge and methods of an architect, inevitably resulting in finished creations that are quirky and maybe a bit “off;” maybe even slightly on the abnormal side.

This volume of design work—simultaneously normal and abnormal—is organized around an agenda of experience. Forty-four projects are grouped into the following nine themes: City, Everyday, In-Out-Door, Learning, Lifestyle, Mountain and Water, Movement, Stories, and Time and Space. These categories reflect our vast range of research interests within experience design, as well as beyond, and through them we ask:

Can we design cities?

Can we design lifestyles?

Can we design time?

How much outdoor life can we have?

How does the cyber experience impact the material one?

Do we still need typology?

Do we still need methodology?

Did we ever need a pure architectural experience?

Is programing a part of design?

Is total design possible?

What is history? Knowledge or part of the present?

What is perspective? A tool or an idea?

What does the East and West divide mean?

This list of questions is by no means conclusive and we are not sure if we will ever find answers to some of them, but these challenges drive our practice. Every time that we discover something unknown to us on our way to reach a possible solution for a problem, we know that we have put a step—be it big or small—forward.