Chinese architect Liu Jiakun honoured with 2025 Pritzker Prize for human-centered design
The 69-year-old architect and founder of Jiakun Architects 'upholds the transcendent power of the built environment through the harmonising of cultural, historical, emotional and social dimensions, using architecture to forge community, inspire compassion and elevate the human spirit,' Pritzker organisers said in a statement.
He is only the second Chinese citizen to receive the prize, following Wang Shu in 2012, a remarkable achievement considering private architectural practice was banned in China until the 1990s.
Liu, based in China's southwestern Sichuan region, has said that the purpose of his architecture 'is to create a beautiful, just and dignified living environment,' and that he tries to balance commercial needs with the human needs of the public.
Related
Amazing architecture: Inside the largest mosque in Central Asia
Japanese studio SANAA honoured with RIBA Gold Medal for their ethereal, gravity-defying architecture
Organisers cited his West Village in Chengdu, a 2015 five-story project that spans a block. It includes a perimetre of pathways for cyclists and pedestrians around 'its own vibrant city of cultural, athletic, recreational, office and business activities within, while allowing the public to view through to the surrounding natural and built environments.'
They also noted the Sichuan Fine Arts Institute Department of Sculpture in Chongqing, which they said displays an alternate solution to maximising space, 'with upper levels protruding outward to extend the square footage of a narrow footprint.'
In a recent interview in his office in Chengdu, Liu said he was not one of those architects who likes to have a strongly recognisable visual style. Rather, he said, he pays more attention to method and strategy.
'Many architects use a strong personal style and form to gain a foothold in the world,' Liu told the AP, speaking in Mandarin. 'No matter where it is, people can tell immediately that it is his or her work with a very strong symbolism. But I am not such a kind of architect.'
'I don't want to have a very clear or obvious style that can be recognised as mine just at a glance,' he said. 'I take a more methodological and strategic approach. I hope that when I go to a specific place, I can use my methodology and strategy to adapt to local conditions. I like to fully understand the place, and then look for resources, problems … and then distill and refine, and finally turn (this) into my work."
Among his other projects are a mysterious clock museum in Chengdu, where a grand circular courtyard evokes the timeless elegance of a sundial, and a striking brick museum in Suzhou. More recently, he has sparked new life into a historic temple district in Lishui and transformed a dramatic cliffside cave complex in Luzhou.
Liu also said he tries to balance his country's artistic and architectural heritage with the realities of modern technology. 'I think China's traditional architecture is of course brilliant and very classic,' he said, 'but it is a product of its time.'
He said he hopes to deeply understand 'the thematic part of tradition that can survive,' and then express it with contemporary technology and language. In that way, he said, 'tradition can be used as a core … but the presentation of your work is contemporary.'
Asked if he thought the honour would impact his life, Liu replied: 'I have thought about it. But I want to maintain normalcy … I don't want to become nervous about everything. Of course, it has its advantages. I will definitely not need to promote myself too much. But will it also make me better at work? Not necessarily. Excessive expectations may become a pressure.'
Hashtags

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles

Business Insider
2 hours ago
- Business Insider
Growing up, I called myself Chinese. A high school project helped me understand the difference.
This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Ginny Wu, 32, a Taiwanese-American UCLA graduate living in Taiwan. Her words have been edited for length and clarity. For my dad's generation, the American dream was about building a better future for their kids. My uncle was the first in his family to get a green card. He eventually sponsored his siblings, including my dad, to leave Taiwan and move to the US. I was born and raised in the States, and never expected that, decades later, I'd end up moving in the opposite direction — back to Taiwan, where their journey had begun. I grew up in a small town Both of my parents are from Taitung, a rural county in southeastern Taiwan. My paternal grandpa was the county magistrate there, and my grandma ran a rice mill business. My dad moved to America in the late 1970s. A job opportunity brought him to Santa Clara, before he moved to Anaheim and then Texas, where he co-ran a motel and even managed an emu ranch. He traveled back to Taiwan to get married, and in 1988, my mom joined him in the US. I was born and raised in Norco, a small, rural town in Southern California. My dad loved the countryside and bought a house there. The town wasn't very diverse, and I was often one of just a few Asian kids in my class. I feel fortunate that I never really experienced racism growing up. At home, we spoke Mandarin. I hated studying the language as a kid, but now I'm grateful — I use Mandarin every day. An assignment changed the way I view identity Growing up, I didn't think much about what being Asian actually meant. I'd say I was Chinese — partly because we spoke it at home, partly because that's what teachers checked on school forms. That changed in high school, when I started the International Baccalaureate program. I wrote my extended essay on how Japanese colonization shaped Taiwanese identity. None of my previous history classes had covered that Taiwan was occupied by Japan for 50 years — my parents never went through it in depth either But the topic hit home. It helped explain why my dad said Japanese phrases before meals, and why my parents used Japanese loanwords without realizing. Exploring the Japanese influences helped me make sense of it all. Exploring that influence deepened my understanding of Taiwan's story, and my own. That essay planted a seed. A few months after graduating from UCLA with a degree in economics, I was hired by Northrop Grumman, an aerospace and defense company. Over the next four years, I worked as a financial analyst in a professional development program rotation. In my last rotation, I pivoted to a different track, taking on a role as a business process analyst in aerospace systems. Despite having a stable job, I started to feel boxed in. I'd never lived anywhere else, and I wanted to see what life outside Southern California could be like. The first move That desire led me to join Anchor Taiwan, a one-month startup immersion program, in 2018. I took time off work to attend, and it changed everything. Experiencing Taiwan as an adult, without my parents and surrounded by peers, helped me imagine building a life here. By the end of the year, I'd quit my job, packed up, and moved to Taipei. I didn't have a job lined up at first. I enrolled in Mandarin classes while job hunting and eventually landed a role at Taiwan Startup Stadium. That was my entry point into the local tech world. When I told my parents I was moving, my mom wasn't thrilled. Having grown up during financially unstable times in Taiwan, she valued career stability and didn't love the idea of me quitting. But she also knew I hadn't felt fulfilled. While they weren't exactly enthusiastic, they were supportive. I was lucky to have extended family in Taiwan — I stayed at my aunt's place while getting settled. I also applied for full Taiwanese citizenship so I could vote and now have my Taiwan ID. Taipei reshaped me I used to be a homebody, like my parents, but the city has drawn out a more social, spontaneous side. My closest friends are mostly locals who speak incredible English, and I feel more connected to my extended family than ever. Work-wise, the transition's actually been smoother than I thought. I'm not at a traditional local company, though — I've heard those can be pretty hierarchical and intense. Taipei has pushed me out of my bubble in the best way. It's clean, convenient, and safe. I walk or bike alone at night without a second thought. I take the bus to work, meet friends for dinner or to go rock climbing, and sometimes jog around the track near my office. Of course, there are things I miss about the US. My parents — now in their 70s and 80s — are still there, and they've never visited me in Taiwan. But I used to get anxious about the smallest things, like mailing a package or ordering a meal. Now, I navigate life in a new language, in a system I didn't grow up in. I've built something from scratch, and that feels like home. I dream of launching a business here one day.
Yahoo
15 hours ago
- Yahoo
Bangladesh mourns as toll from jet crash at school hits 27
Families and teachers gathered Tuesday at a Bangladeshi school where a training fighter jet crashed, killing 25 children and two others in the country's deadliest aviation accident in decades. Most of the victims were pupils who had just been let out of class when the Chinese-made F-7 BJI aircraft slammed into the Milestone School and College on Monday. "So far, 27 people have died. Among them, 25 are children and one is a pilot," said Sayedur Rahman from the Ministry of Health and Family Welfare, updating an earlier death toll of 20. "Seventy-eight people are being treated in different hospitals," added Rahman, special assistant to the ministry's chief adviser. More than 170 people were injured in the crash, said the military which is investigating the cause. The usually bustling school was eerily quiet on Tuesday morning, with classes cancelled. "Along with the children, the school has lost its life," said teacher Shahadat Hossain, whose son narrowly escaped the crash. "There are two swings in front of the affected building. During lunch breaks and after school, children play there. Even yesterday, around the time the plane crashed, students were on those swings," the 45-year-old told AFP. Around 7,000 pupils are enrolled at the school, including Abul Bashar's sixth-grade son whose best friend was killed. "He came out just two or three minutes before the accident occurred," said Bashar. "He couldn't sleep through the night and forced me to bring him to school this morning," the father added, his son standing in silence. - Children's trauma - School authorities have collected bags, shoes, and identity cards of children from the site. Pahn Chakma, a senior police officer, said that armed forces personnel are still sweeping the area. "They will hand over the place to the police later, and we will then collect evidence, including any human remains or belongings of students and others," Chakma said. Air Force personnel on duty said the remnants of the fighter jet were removed on Monday night, but they are still scouring the site for evidence. "I don't know how long it will take to return to normalcy, to relieve the children from this trauma," teacher Hossain said. On Monday night, school authorities held prayers at the campus. Bangladesh's interim leader Muhammad Yunus expressed "deep grief and sorrow" over the incident and declared a day of national mourning. "The loss suffered by the Air Force, the students, parents, teachers, and staff of Milestone School and College, as well as others affected by this accident, is irreparable," he said. "This is a moment of profound pain for the nation." The military said the pilot, flight lieutenant Towkir Islam, was on a routine training mission when the jet "reportedly encountered a mechanical failure". He tried to divert the aircraft away from densely populated areas but, "despite his best efforts", crashed into the two-storey school building, the military said Monday. sa-mmd/asv/rsc Solve the daily Crossword


Miami Herald
a day ago
- Miami Herald
Map Shows How Chinese Planes Nearly Collided in Russian Airspace
Two Chinese airliners narrowly avoided colliding in early July, after what a pilot appeared to not follow air traffic control instructions, almost resulting in disaster. A Newsweek map traces the flight paths of the aircraft involved in the incident, which occurred high above Tuva-a southern Siberian region bordering Mongolia. At the center of the mishap was an Air China Airbus A350, flight CA967, on route from Shanghai to Milan. The July 6 event began when the Air China jet unexpectedly maneuvered into the path of another Chinese plane. The confusion appeared to have originated when the pilot was given instructions along with two other Chinese planes flying northwest of CA967, according to the South China Morning Post. In a radio recording that circulated on Chinese social media, a Russian air traffic controller is heard instructing a Hainan Airlines jet and a second China Airlines plane to maintain an altitude of 36,000 feet. The authenticity of the recording could not be independently verified by Newsweek. At around 9:40 a.m. local time, CA967 climbed unexpectedly from 34,100 feet to 36,000 feet within 15 minutes, according to Flightradar24 data. The pilot did not ask for air traffic control to approve the maneuver. This sudden ascent brought the Air China jet into the path of a Boeing 767 cargo plane, flight CSS12, flying from Budapest, Hungary, to Ezhou, China. The two aircraft came within about 400 feet of each other-well below the internationally accepted 1,000-foot minimum. Audio from the cockpit captured the cargo plane's pilot noting the unexpected presence of the Air China jet directly ahead, prompting the Russian controller to order immediate evasive maneuvers for both flights. The close encounter also triggered both planes' Traffic Collision Avoidance Systems, a last-resort automated alert designed to prevent midair collisions. When the Air China pilot radioed to ask about the cause of the alert, the controller pressed: "Are you climbing with instruction or without instruction? Confirm, please." The Air China pilot replied: "No, thank you," which has drawn widespread commentary on Chinese social media. The South China Morning Post reported that the two pilots communicated further with the Air China pilot appearing to blame a Russian air traffic controller for the incident, saying instructions had left pilots "confused". A similar scare played out over the United States just days later. On Friday, a Delta Air Lines passenger jet flying from Minneapolis to Minot, North Dakota, was forced to execute a hard turn to avoid a U.S. Air Force B-52 bomber. The Delta pilot expressed surprise that Minot Air Force Base, which has a radar, had not put out a notification about the flight. An Air Force spokesperson told Newsweek the service was "looking into the matter." Related Articles Trump Hosts US's Oldest Pacific Ally Amid Tensions With ChinaRussia Touts Trump-Putin Meeting for Major DeadlineChinese Navy Shadowed NATO Aircraft Carrier: ReportUS Government Worker Prevented From Leaving China: What We Know 2025 NEWSWEEK DIGITAL LLC.