ARCHITECTURE PORTFOLIO

ARCHITECTURE PORTFOLIO

“All the World’s a Stage“

STAGING SPACE, FRAMING LIFE

An architect composes walls, voids, and light.

A director shapes movement, space, and time. Both establish intention—yet meaning emerges through experience.

A performance unfolds, an audience interprets.

A building stands, a user inhabits. Neither stage nor architecture is still. Time transforms, reveals, redefines.

Theater frames stories, architecture frames life itself. Both are dialogues—fluid, responsive, complete through interaction.

I seek to build spaces that speak, structures that listen, architecture as an evolving experience— where form and presence meet, and meaning is always becoming.

Master of Architecture Year 2

Autumn 2024

Marc Tsurumaki

Contributer(s)

HYON KWON

Sara Song

454-458 W 128th St, New York, NY 10027

Rhinoceros, Illustrator, Photoshop, V-Ray, Enscape

Learning From The Street

WHAT MAKES HARLEM LIVELY?

West Harlem is a culturally dynamic place. After multiple site visits, I began to ask myself: “Why is this neighborhood so culturally vivid?” What I discovered was the interaction between the diverse elements of the streets and the way people inhabited them. People occupied the streets, engaging with their surroundings and with one another, creating a sense of liveliness. The seemingly random street elements, open spaces that invited occupation, and the constant exchange between passersby—all of these came together to shape this vibrancy. I decided to bring the diverse and dynamic life of the streets into residential architecture. To better understand this vibrancy, I created a catalog of the many elements that exist on the street—people, non-human life, and the structures that shape their interactions. Through this process, I realized that the street contained far more layers of life than I had initially noticed. The street was not merely a space for movement. It had long connected homes, people, and everything in between. In that sense, could the street—more than the house—be the space closest to life itself, given that humans are inherently social beings?

Street Elements and People’s Inhabitancy

REIMAGINING THE CORRIDOR

The first space I focused on in the building was the corridor. Just as streets connect buildings in the city, corridors link each units in collective living spaces. Having grown up in Korea, where apartments are the dominant type, I had never thought of corridors as full of life. To me, they had always been cold, linear passages—defined by cold concrete finishes—existing solely to connect units, like a circuit. So, I reimagined the corridor. I changed the finishes and allocated more generous space. After all, the street—the most vibrant and lived-in space—deserved nothing less. By allowing natural light to flow in and creating visual dynamics, I combined two floors into a single shared corridor, encouraging interaction among residents. Additionally, I integrated elements inspired by the streets—add on furniture and attachments that could support diverse ways of living—embracing the differences in how people inhabit space.

STREET

WHAT DID I LEARN FROM THE STREET?

DESIGN

Just as buildings are placed along a street, units are arranged along a corridor. It provides a sense of stability, acting as a backdrop for the stage of people’s lives.

Just as trees provide a sense of stability and create frames for views, I introduced bright glass frames to enhance both stability and visibility. This corridor is not only a stage for life but also a seat from which to observe the world outside.

I designed a structure that allows for the same kind of informal engagement people have with staircases and building edges—leaning, resting, and gathering. This framework creates opportunities for seating railings and adaptable furniture, inviting people to occupy the space in their own ways.

However, too much openness can sometimes feel overwhelming. Just as scaffolding on the street provides protection and a sense of enclosure, I introduced balconies and surrounding awnings to create a buffer—offering both shelter and a defined sense of space.

I incorporated an external staircase, similar to a fire escape, that connects people across different levels. While the shared corridor already links two floors, this addition further expands the possibilities for interaction, creating even more opportunities for connection and movement.

W129thSt

W128thSt

Convent Avenue

W127thSt

This is the building, designed by the design logic. Just as I designed the corridor to foster interaction and embrace diverse ways of living, I carved into the mass, creating generous circulation paths and spacious plazas throughout. Sunlight was carefully considered in this process.

The awnings, balconies, glass frames, corridors, units, and rear passages layer across the façade and interior, generating a variety of microclimates. Each layer is designed to accommodate diverse ways of living, reinforcing the idea that architecture should support and reflect the richness of life itself.

Looking at a broader scale, while the neighborhood is full of dynamic life, this site felt isolated— cut off by the elevation difference between the roads. The energy of the surrounding streets struggled to reach it.

To address this, I made the resolution of the height difference a key factor in shaping the building’s overall form.

Street Connected

Entrance Point of View

As a result, a ramp runs through the heart of the structure, seamlessly connecting the site to the neighborhood. At its center, I placed a plaza, transforming it from a mere passage into a cultural hub—a space where the energy of the community can converge and thrive.

The central plaza and ramp extend further, seamlessly linking with the open spaces on the ground floor, which in turn connect to the smaller surrounding streets. Just like New York City’s grid system, this design creates deep, interconnected pathways throughout the site. The ramp and plaza serve as catalysts, bringing the diverse life of the streets into the building, blurring the boundary between the urban fabric and architecture.

I can already imagine the bustling energy of the street seeping into the building—it’s exciting to see it come to life!

Variations in Dimension and Subdivision of Different Unit Types

Harlem is one of the most prominent sites of gentrification, following Brooklyn’s DUMBO. Designing a residential building here, I couldn’t ignore this reality. It is impossible to directly prevent rising housing prices. As an architect, I considered what I could do within my role to address this issue.

To address it, I structured the building with a flexible wooden grid, allowing unit shapes and sizes to be easily adjusted. Residents can determine their unit size based on their financial situation. The reduced space doesn’t become wasted or unused; instead, it feeds into the corridor—the central theme of this project—shaping its form and accommodating diverse ways of living.

Add On System Diagram

VERSATILE ADD ON FURNITURES

Here are the add-on furniture elements I previously mentioned. With an easily assembled and disassembled structure, people can create furniture of various sizes to suit their needs. From small pieces like chairs, to walls and awnings, and even larger structures like markets and stages, this system allows for flexible, user-driven adaptation of space.

VIBRANT OUTDOOR SPACE

of View Floor Plan, 7th Floor

With this add-on structure, the unused rooftop can transform into a garden, a theater stage, or even an open-air cinema. The balconies are not just isolated extensions—they are horizontally and vertically interconnected, forming a continuous network of shared spaces. Thanks to the varied massing, these outdoor spaces are not separate but connected with one another. The add-on furniture system adapts versatilely to different needs, seamlessly serving the residents and their ever-changing ways of living.

The rooftop, balconies, corridors, and units are delicately and seamlessly connected, fostering a diverse range of inhabitancy. Here, people don’t have to go downtown to enjoy life—they can watch movies, dance, and have time with friends or loved ones right in their own neighborhood, creating their own narratives within this space.

Contributer(s)

Manhattan Bridge, New York, NY 10002

Rhinoceros, Illustrator, Photoshop, D5

Hug for Manhattan Bridge Gate

The Manhattan Bridge was built as an industrial link, connecting the rapidly growing Manhattan with the Brooklyn that served it, in early 20th century. The point where this megastructure touches Manhattan is right next to the heart of Chinatown, at a critical node where many neighborhoods meet. Despite being a natural meeting point, the bridge’s massive scale has discouraged pedestrian activity. Now, in 2024, this area remains an empty, car-dominated plaza, where only the imposing Manhattan Bridge Gate stands tall, disconnected from the life of the city.

CHINATOWN EXPERIENCE

In contrast, Chinatown was the complete opposite—a the street transported me into a world of diverse people, of which captivated me.

I could sense the deep attachment to life and identity its culture in the American landscape. As I walked through ornaments that define its character and atmosphere, the essence of the place.

opposite—a neighborhood full of energy and life. Simply crossing people, intricate decorations, and distinct architecture, all

identity in a community that had long struggled to preserve through the neighborhood, I mapped the symbols and atmosphere, later organizing them into a drawing that captured

WHAT MAKES CHINATOWN THE CHINATOWN?

I arrived at the conclusion that these symbols and ornaments are what define Chinatown. Here, they are not just decorative elements—they are the embodiment of a deep love for life, forming the very identity of the neighborhood. To dismiss them as mere decoration would be to ignore the atmosphere they create and the ways of life that exist because of it. I decided to explore how these elements function, uncovering the role they play in shaping both space and experience.

HOW ABOUT NEW YORK CITY?

This led me to wonder—what gives New York its unique identity, just as symbols and ornaments? Having been here for less than a month, I quickly identified one such element: scaffolding. Unlike anything I had seen in other cities, scaffolding in New York is both a protector and an inconvenience, shaping the way people navigate the streets. Yet, despite its temporary and utilitarian nature, it undeniably contributes to the urban character that makes New York, New York.

GIVE HUG TO MANHATTAN BRIDGE GATE

After completing my analysis, I returned to the Manhattan Bridge. What once seemed like an overwhelming, alien presence now felt strangely lonely. Standing with its arms awkwardly outstretched, it no longer looked imposing—it looked like it was waiting for an embrace.

An embrace may seem simple, but it is one of the most interactive gestures. It requires looking at the other, sensing distance, stepping forward, moving one’s arms, shaping space between and around, and feeling warmth. Among all the ways an entity interacts with the world, a hug is perhaps the most intimate—a moment where space, movement, and emotion come together to make life more vibrant.

CLOSING THE STORY OF THE MANHATTAN BRIDGE

I wanted to give the Manhattan Bridge a warm embrace, helping it connect not just with neighborhoods, but with the people within them. I envisioned spaces that embody this embrace, shaped by the elements that define this place. To break the hierarchy of looking up, I designed an intuitive stairway leading to a viewpoint, offering sweeping views from Brooklyn to the Financial District. No longer a barrier, the bridge becomes a place of connection.

At first glance, it may seem like mere scaffolding, but it is a framework for possibility—an open system for people to shape and make their own. I imagined a hopeful future—where the Manhattan Bridge, once distant and imposing, is finally embraced—not by steel and stone, but by the people around it.

Observatory and Balcony

Structure - Scaffolding

Project Type

Project Competition

Organizer

Buildner

Workplace Reimagined

Jury

Christina Cho Yoo

Ece Calguner Erzan

Ed Han Myo Oo

Harsha Kotak

Frank Fliskow

Primo Orpilla

Juriaan Van Meel

Kristina Yin

Time

Winter 2023

Contributer(s)

HYON KWON

Joonbae Seo

Minjeong Song

Location

53A Chambers St, New York, NY 10007

Recognition

Honorable Mention

Buildner Publication

Tool

Rhinoceros, V-Ray, Photoshop, Illustrator

Shifting To Shaft

Since the COVID-19 pandemic, the traditional concept of the office has begun to shift. This change was not solely caused by the pandemic—it was an inevitable outcome driven by technological advances and shifts in industrial structures. So people prefer individualized labor models, reducing the demand for office buildings. Offices have been built in the most accessible location. The rapid growth of AI industries, the demand for server rooms has surged. In response to these evolving needs, I reimagined the future of office buildings. The first key feature is the Data Shaft, a vertical core that serves both structural and waste heat recovery functions. This shaft supports the building’s structure while housing high-temperature data servers, efficiently redistributing the generated heat throughout various spaces via the building’s interconnected system.

Server rooms constantly generate high levels of heat, reaching around 70°C (158°F). To maintain their operation, various heat exchange systems are required.

Instead of letting this heat go to waste, we chose to recycle it—using it to warm both water and air. As a result, the building is wrapped and intersected by an extensive network of pipes, which may at first appear excessive. These pipes serve as medium for heat transfer, visibly weaving in and out of the structure, ultimately shaping the building’s unique identity.

REDEFINING THE OFFICE

Since traditional office buildings are located in the most accessible areas, I integrated office with programs that can be used by broader public. The left section consists of tech spaces and flexible workspaces, forming the core office area. On the opposite side, public spaces actively utilizing heat include a greenhouse, educational facilities, an auditorium, a sauna, and fitness areas. Between these distinct zones, urban gardens weave through the masses, acting as connectors that bring together office functions and communal activities, fostering interaction and engagement.

Institution

Wasiuta

Contributer(s)

HYON KWON

Madison Square Park, New York, NY 10007

Rhinoceros, Illustrator, Photoshop, Twinmotion

Dismembered Architecture, Remembered

In the 1933 film King Kong, a giant beast torments the iconic Empire State Building. This moment marked the beginning of cinema’s long history of exploiting architecture, making it to nothing but a tool for cinematic spectacle. Through architecture, I will turn film into a backdrop for architecture itself. By reassembling film through the techniques it once used to manipulate architecture, this project seeks to console and restore what has long been broken.

Small, compressed screens flutter in the sunlight, reflecting its movement as they shift and distort.

Light Box

At first glance, all of them appears to be decent screens, yet they serve only to adorn the buildings inside and out, adding layers rather than dictating the image.

A massive, distorted spherical screen, warping the projected images, reshaping light and perception.

The intersecting and repeating seating arrangements disrupt and break continuity of experience.

overlapping, fragmented screens and the continuous, unbroken ramp make contrast and irony.

Every platform surrounding the pavilion is sliced, fragmented, and distorted by a series of diverse geometries, breaking conventional spatial continuity.

HOW TO COMMEMORATE?

I placed a grand seating area oriented toward the Empire State Building, the very first victim of cinema’s architectural violence. This structure responds to its urban context while the geometries establishing a direct visual axis with the building. Just as film has dismembered architecture and reduced it to a backdrop, these abstract geometric pavilions dismember the movie watching platform, transforming it into an altar for architecture.

Four pavilions continuously display distorted, unfocused projections, offering no clear image but instead draping the buildings behind them in a shifting veil of light—an act of quiet consolation.