25 Must-See Buildings in China

Located on a mountainside, facing Da Xia river, and at an altitude of more than 9,842 feet (3,000 m), Labrang Monastery is considered among the six most significant monasteries of the Gelug Tradition and is the biggest outside Lhasa. Labrang conforms to a traditional Tibetan plan, though its buildings evidence Han Chinese and fusions of Han and Tibetan styles. The many buildings that make up the extensive monastery complex are concentrated around the great hall of Mayjung Tosamling, established by the First Jamyang-zhaypa in 1710. This impressive wooden structure is supported by 140 wooden columns and can seat 3,000 monks. The interior is very elaborately decorated with a strong Nepalese influence and dominated by a 32-foot-high (10 m) golden Buddha, fashioned by Nepalese craftsmen. The entire monastery contains more than 10,000 religious statues made from a wide range of materials including jade, gold, ivory, clay, bronze, and wood. It also houses more than 65,000 Tibetan Buddhist manuscripts on a wide range of subjects, such as philosophy, medicine, history, and literature. The walls of the buildings are constructed from wood and mud or stone and mud, with their exteriors faced with black stones. The style is intended to be simple and elegant. Around the cornice line of the taller buildings are typical Tibetan elements of low walls made of grass, which add height, sometimes by as much as two stories. (Edward Denison)

In 464 an Indian monk named Bada, the 28th successor in a line of religious leaders that could be traced back to Buddha, arrived in China to spread Buddhist teachings. The Shaolin Temple, the construction of which began in 495 under the orders of Emperor Xiaowen, bears testimony to his success. It was from here that Indian scriptures were translated into Chinese and the precepts of Zen Buddhism formed. Bada is also reputed to have introduced martial arts as a complementary practice to meditation—a practice that developed into the highly skilled Shaolin Gongfu, or kung fu.

The original temple structure was simple, but with each succeeding dynasty the Shaolin Temple became increasingly extensive—many of the current structures date from the Ming and Qing dynasties. Great care was taken to preserve symmetry in the temple’s design with all crucial buildings being constructed along the site’s central axis. These include the Gate of the Temple, the Bell and the Drum towers, the Heavenly King Hall, the Main Hall, the Abbot’s Room, the Mahavira Hall, and the Sutra-Keeping Pavilion. The largest and most impressive building of the complex is the Thousand Buddhas Hall, the interior of which is decorated with exquisite, well-preserved murals.

Close to the temple is one of China’s greatest architectural records, the Pagoda Forest. Here 246 burial sites are marked by an astounding variety of pagodas. This structural diversity, along with the temple’s significance as the birthplace of Zen Buddhism, makes the Shaolin Temple one of China’s most important Buddhist sites. (Jade Franklin)

In the not too distant past, a flight into Hong Kong was akin to a fairground ride. Kai Tak International Airport sat on land reclaimed from the harbor surrounded by skyscrapers. Approach demanded a stoic attitude or a stiff gin and tonic. When the new Chek Lap Airport was developed on an island just off Lantau, miles from downtown Hong Kong, it linked airport to city with the MTR subway line.

Pumped marine sand created the West Kowloon reclamation site. The land is public park and service system for the MTR. The Kowloon Ventilation Building, designed by Terry Farrell, sits on the southern tip of this site. Floodgates, power transformers, and ventilation units dictate the function, but not the form, of Farrell’s building. According to Farrell himself, the shape was meant to reference the undulating landscape and the harbor waves, but it looks more like a crouched organism with four haunches raised above the main bulk of its body, ready to reverse evolution and slide back into an aquatic life. Mechanical fans ventilate the airport railway tunnels, and preventive floodgates control water. The building includes stairway entry/exit points for service workers and emergency evacuation points for civilians. Farrell’s building is the only one of the series to be protected from eventual integration into new development. It will continue to be the West Kowloon sentry at water’s edge. (Denna Jones)

Some 40 miles (65 km) from the forbidding industrial city of Datong, which boasts one of the world’s largest coal mines, is an architectural marvel that figuratively and physically transcends the relationship between humankind and nature. Perched on the side of Heng Shan Mountain, on the west face of Jinxia Gorge, is the Hanging Monastery of Xuan Kong Si. Construction began in 491, though various additions and renovations have occurred since, including a major restoration in 1900. Sheltered from the elements, the inspiration for this ethereal monastery derives from the Taoist notion of tranquility, where concentration is undisturbed by commonplace sounds, such as the crowing of roosters and barking of dogs.

The monastery is a must-see for its sheer uniqueness, not only of its beauty and precipitous setting but also for being the only surviving example of a temple built on the basis of China’s three main philosophies: Taoism, Buddhism, and Confucianism. Evidence of this is to be seen inside the temple in the sculptures of Shakyamuni, Confucius, and Laozi.

The method of construction used to suspend this monastery from the face of the gorge was a series of chiseled openings in the rock into which wooden beams were inserted. The protruding beams served as the building’s foundation onto which wooden boards and pillars were attached to create the walls and roofs. As a safety measure, a wooden balustrade skirts each building, and vertical wooden poles further support the walkways and buildings from underneath.

The monastery complex comprises 40 rooms with a combined space of 1,635 square feet (152 sq m), interconnected by exterior walkways. The highest of these, formerly 295 feet (90 m) above the riverbed, is now 190 feet (58 m) above, due to river silting. (Edward Denison)

The Temple of Confucius originated shortly after the death of the sage and philosopher Confucius in 479 BCE. He is buried under a tumulus at the temple. The complex expanded over more than 2,000 years, although it was badly damaged by Red Guards during the Maoist Cultural Revolution. A fire in 1499 also damaged much of the temple, and most of the current complex dates from that time.

The temple has nine courtyards, entered through a series of gates. It is laid out around a central axis, similar to the Forbidden City in Beijing. The Star of Literature Pavilion was built in 1098 and rebuilt in 1191, and it houses a library on the upper story. Farther into the temple is the Hall of Great Achievement (Dachengdian), which has four towers at the courtyard corners. In front of the Dachengdian is the Apricot Pavilion (Xingtan). All the pavilions and halls are constructed in the traditional Chinese manner, with elegant use of red walls, yellow roofs, and carved white marble stonework. Confucian temples do not usually display images; their purpose is to honor the sage’s teachings. However, at Qufu, which is still managed by Confucius’s descendants, there are statues of him. As Confucian philosophy spread across East Asia, temples were progressively built in Korea, Vietnam, Indonesia, and Japan. The design of such temples was influenced by the original temple in Qufu. (Aidan Turner-Bishop)

Wang Shu and his wife, Lu Wenyu, are Amateur Architecture Studio. Ningbo History Museum encapsulates one of their practice’s main tenets: our atavistic attraction to nature. Context, materials, and setting shape outcome, and Wang encourages his craftsmen to turn “flaws” into features. Ningbo’s bricolage facade is an intentional, variegated, sometimes out-of-plumb coursework of reclaimed brick, roofing tiles, and stones. The museum’s massive tectonic shapes are framed by concrete, wood, and bamboo. Windows are differently sized squares and rectangles, arranged in nonlinear but purposeful patterns.

At a distance, the facades take on the appearance of the geologist’s best friend—exposed road cuts where millennia of Earth’s history can be read like a book. Exterior passages between the museum’s buildings resemble dry riverbeds, as though Ningbo’s canyonlike walls were created by tectonic uplift rather than by an architect. Walls list like ships in dry dock, but their inclines offer shelter at their bases, while window sashes exert oppositional energy and fold open. The museum’s atrium is spacious and rational. Concrete floors yield to tessellated stone paving. Interior walls appear like three-dimensional climbing walls, while others are multiple horizontal layers of split bamboo culms.

Ningbo reflects the years Wang spent learning the craft and restoration of historic buildings. China’s legacy of vernacular buildings, where multimaterial walls are believed stronger than those of one material, also reflects a pragmatic response to resource shortfall. Tamped earth walls are infilled with bricks, tiles, and stones when time and finances allow. This sustainable building method is one reason Wang champions “amateur” approaches to architecture. Ningbo’s accretive, rich, “half mountain, half house” form, is Wang says, more like “a living creature…than a solid building.” (Denna Jones)

Beijing’s Yi He Yuan, or the Summer Palace, is a complex of halls, towers, kiosks, and pavilions in a 720-acre (290-ha) park around Kunminghu lake, about 12 miles (19 km) northwest of Tiananmen. It was commissioned by Emperor Qianlong in 1750 as the Qingyi Yuan (Garden of Clear Ripples), which developed into the imperial summer residence. It was attacked by foreign armies in 1860 and 1900, and rebuilt on each occasion. The Dowager Empress Cixi lived here from 1889 until her death, and she is said to have funded the restoration and expansion of the Summer Palace with money diverted from funds for the Chinese navy. In 1924 the palace was declared a public park.

Notable structures in the park include the Yiledian (Hall of Nurtured Joy) with a three-story theater; the Leshontang (Hall of Joyful Longevity), the Dowager Empress Cixi’s residence; and the Shiqi Kong Qiao (Seventeen-Arch Bridge). The Chang Lang (Long Gallery) is a 2,388-foot-long (728 m) covered walkway elaborately decorated with more than 14,000 paintings depicting scenes from Chinese classical literature. The Shi Fang (Marble Boat) is a lakeside pavilion built of wood and painted to look like marble. Imitation wheels on either side make it resemble a Mississippi paddle steamer. Although the individual buildings are pleasantly decorative and historically curious, it is the traditional Chinese landscape with, for example, views across the lake that are most attractive. The natural landscape of hills and the ornamental lake combines with artificial features such as the pavilions, halls, palaces, temples, and bridges to create a harmonious atmosphere of great charm. The design epitomizes the philosophy and practice of Chinese garden design, reflecting the profound aesthetic of this internationally influential Chinese cultural form. (Aidan Turner-Bishop)

The Great Hall on the west edge of Tiananmen Square was one of 10 urban projects to commemorate the 10th anniversary of the founding of the People’s Republic. Built by volunteers, it is the leading venue for Communist Party meetings, events, and conferences.

Topped by a green-and yellow-glazed tile roof, the complex consists of a central block with a series of bronze doors, a colonnaded portico at the front, and extensive wings. Above the main doors is a red shield, the emblem of the People’s Republic of China. Visitors are admitted to the building, which contains more than 300 conference halls, assembly rooms, lounge areas, and offices, via the East Gate. Government speeches are given here, and representatives of China’s governing body hold their annual meetings in the central auditorium, capable of seating up to 10,000 officials.

The auditorium‘s ceiling is decorated by a massive red star surrounded by a galaxy of lights, which symbolizes the centrality of China within a Communist universe. Several reception halls, each named after a Chinese province, are decorated in a style particular to each region. The state banqueting hall can house 5,000 guests. During the ascendancy of Communism and the frenetic construction program of the 1950s, the government swept away ancient aesthetics in favor of Soviet models. Beijing became a paradigm for socialist realism through grand-scale constructions advocating national form and socialist content. (Anna Amari-Parker)

A project of this type, scale, and audacity would not have been permitted in the historic core of any city other than in China. The National Grand Theater, by architect Paul Andreu, is a superlative example of iconic architecture of its time and place. A short distance from the Forbidden City and the adjacent Tiananmen Square—the heart and soul of Beijing—this structure courts controversy. Beloved by some for its bold design and radical approach to serving the arts, and despised by many for its huge budget and arguably inapt location, China’s National Theater immediately became a divisive building. While many Western architects in China enjoy a relatively free rein at the behest of their clients, China’s ancient urban centers are being transformed irrevocably, sparking cultural debates that will doubtless last for decades.

The globular glass and titanium shell houses three separate venues in what the architect describes as a “city of theaters”: a 2,461-seat opera house, a 2,017-seat concert hall, a 1,040-seat theater, plus numerous exhibition spaces, restaurants, and shopping areas. In the evening, these inner structures and spaces are revealed to the outside world through the glass exterior wall. From outside, the curved form, which is peeled back in the center to evoke an opening stage curtain, appears to float in an artificial lake that completely surrounds the structure. Access to the building, which was completed in 2007, is achieved via underground walkways. (Edward Denison)

The China Central Television (CCTV) Headquarters building in Beijing’s Central Business District is raised on a concrete plinth and avoids street-level engagement. At 755 feet (230 m) tall, perspective distortion of the 50-story legs and bridge top skews views. Its interior volumes and circulation patterns are geared for hierarchy. Rational human scale is pummeled. The structural system, an irregular network of steel cross-bracing, looks as if it were etched into the building’s skin, and it becomes denser where stress points are most severe. (Denna Jones)

Rising from the flat plain of north Beijing, the extraordinary shape of the National Stadium has transformed the appearance of the city, giving a landmark to the far reaches of the famous north-south axis that runs through the center of the Forbidden City. The stadium is set on a gently sloped plinth, giving the impression that the building is a natural event emerging from the soil. Its mass of huge steel columns and struts is conceived as continuous limbs that rise from the ground and curve over the shoulder of the stadium before intermeshing into the enormous roof.

Known as the “Bird’s Nest,” the stadium achieves the considerable distinction of retaining its essentially sculptural quality despite its vast scale and its adroit fulfillment of a host of complex technical requirements. The stadium’s most noticeable feature is the absence of a strict outer facade or curtain wall. Instead, a forest of columns produces a set of transitory spaces, neither exterior nor interior, that break down the monolithic mass of the building while emphasizing its tectonic qualities. The steel elements, while massive, hint at menacing movement. The area around the stadium has been designed to flow from it, with underground levels for access, media, and retail set beneath an urban park.

Inside, the concrete bowl of the stadium provides seating for up to 91,000 spectators. Color is used sparingly—the steel is painted silver, the outer side of the concrete bowl and the stadium seating a dazzling red, and interior elements a matte black. This is not only a remarkable stadium but also a sourcebook of ideas for the new power of the 21st century. (Mark Irving)

The Big Wild Goose Pagoda is situated in the Da Ci’en Temple, a grand complex in Chang’an, near today’s Xian city. Construction of the temple began in 648, during the reign of Emperor Gaozong. The pagoda’s construction began four years later, an example of how the Chinese Buddhist pagoda tradition had taken root. Many Tang Dynasty constructions were, like the Big Wild Goose Pagoda, simple in design, although they became more elaborate with subsequent centuries. The original mud-and-brick construction reached five stories high but was reconstructed between 701 and 704 in gray brick and elevated to seven stories, attaining a height of 210 feet (64 m). The pagoda was constructed expressly for the purpose of holding the Buddhist Sanskrit scriptures acquired by the monk Xuanzhuang on his travels to India. As seen today, the seven stories of the Big Wild Goose Pagoda are strongly delineated by small roofs projecting from each level; above these, arched entry portals puncture each wall. On the lintels of the four ground-level gates are delicately carved Buddhist images and architectural designs, along with two stone tablets engraved by the eminent Tang Dynasty calligrapher Chu Suiliang. Simple but impressive, the Big Wild Goose Pagoda that we see today still towers over its surroundings and tells us much of the manner in which both Buddhist teaching and architectural principles traveled from India through to China. (Jade Franklin)

The Central Business District of Guangzhou—a new city of 14 million—is a carefully crafted cultured pearl on China’s international public relations necklace. Overlooking the Pearl River, Zaha Hadid’s twin “boulder” opera house references river stones. An anti-Cartesian, asymmetric, atavistic “cave” or “grotto” within an expressive steel skeleton skin of multifaceted granite tessellations interrupted by glass prisms, the Opera House’s main freestanding concrete 1,800-seat performance hall is paired with a separate 400-seat multipurpose performance space. “Gravity-defying” foyers have few straight lines; the nonlinear approach prepares audiences for the fantasy of performance. A constellation of spotlights illuminates. Acoustics are paramount. Most opera houses are symmetric, but the acoustician who worked on this structure says the shape of Hadid’s hall suits the differing sounds of Western and Chinese opera. Guangzhou Opera House opened in 2010 and is an undisputed landmark, and as such it remains what it was intended to be—a destination. (Denna Jones)

The Hong Kong and Shanghai Bank (HSBC) Headquarters by Norman Foster dramatically displays the confidence and energy of Hong Kong in the 1980s. It bears a close stylistic connection with Richard Roger’s Lloyd’s Building in London, with its frank expression of services on the building’s exterior, and Rogers and Piano’s earlier Centre Pompidou in Paris.

Its construction on a confined site required precise off-site prefabrication, and components were imported from across the world. The design is remarkable because there is no internal supporting structure. Eight groups of four vertical ladder masts, cross-braced with struts, hold up the floors with five levels of suspension trusses, locked into the masts. Elevators, stairs, and other services are at the east and west ends. Escalators are the main circulators, including the dramatic entrance one, which pierces the glazed atrium floor. The 170-foot-high (52 m), 11-level atrium is an exciting and light space. It is lit by daylight scooped into the interior by computer-controlled giant mirrors.

The 47-story bank was one of the world’s most expensive buildings when it opened in 1985. The plan of the bank is informed by Chinese feng shui principles: it faces water (the harbor view is not blocked), and two bronze statues, “Stephen,” and “Stitt,” named for former general managers, guard the building. In contrast, I.M. Pei’s neighboring Bank of China is said to have bad feng shui because of its many sharp edges. Statue Square, in front of the HSBC Headquarters, is a popular public space in Hong Kong. (Aidan Turner-Bishop)

Hong Kong is famous for its tall buildings, battling each other for space on the city’s crowded skyline. One of the most graceful and distinctive of these is the Bank of China Tower by I.M. Pei.

This commercial office building is immediately striking, thanks to the origami-like repeated cross-bracing and structural expression on its exterior. The form—four asymmetrical vertical elements falling away until the tallest single triangular prism remains—is said to mimic bamboo shoots, symbolizing livelihood and prosperity. The skyscraper is practical as well as aesthetically pleasing. Step-backs on the 1,210-feet-high (369 m), 72-floor tower help counteract high winds caused by typhoons. At the corners are five steel columns onto which the weight is transferred via the triangular frameworks. Inside is an imposing banking hall and 1.4 million square feet (130,000 m sq) of office space.

The Bank of China was once the tallest building outside America. It should be visited not only to take advantage of its views over the city but to see a bold, characterful expression of prosperity, writ large, with verve and drama. (David Taylor)

As the last building to be designed by the Hong Kong–based firm Palmer & Turner in the full Classical style, the HSBC Building stands as a proud monument to Shanghai’s decadent past. Chief architect George Wilson’s simple brief was to “spare no expense, but dominate the Bund,” a goal he triumphantly achieved. Even today, despite the towering skyscrapers that face the HSBC Building across the Huangpu River, it retains its prominence.

The monumental facade is divided vertically into three main parts, with the central section consisting of a gateway topped by imposing Ionic columns. These rise to the fourth story, effectively breaking up the facade and giving support to a heavy cornice, above which rises the spectacular concrete dome, reaching 180 feet (55 m) above street level. Two bronze lions, positioned in accordance with the rules of the Chinese geomantic art of feng shui, flank the entrance and guide visitors into the opulent interior. Here, for the first time in Shanghai, Chinese decorative techniques were adopted within a Western-styled building.

HSBC’s evident confidence in its own long-lasting prosperity was misplaced, however. The bank was occupied by the Japanese during World War II and later seized by the new Communist government. The building today has no association with HSBC. Despite its turbulent history, the HSBC Building continues to bear testimony to the diverse mix of international influences that existed in Shanghai in its trading heyday. It remains as one of the finest examples of Neoclassicism in Asia. (Jade Franklin)

Designed by Palmer & Turner Architects and Surveyors, the most prominent architectural firm in Shanghai in the first half of the 20th century, the Custom House retains its function upon the historic Bund district to this day.

Situated next to the dominating HSBC Building, also a Palmer & Turner design, the Custom House, like the bank, is Neoclassical but simpler and more linear in form, showing the Modernist influences that Palmer & Turner were beginning to adopt. Constructed using reinforced concrete, the Custom House was initially the tallest building in the city, having been designed to dwarf the HSBC Building. The extra height came from the addition of a clock tower that rose to 295 feet (90 m).

The 10-story, eastern elevation of the building overlooks the Bund, and it is faced with largely unornamented granite. At the base of this facade are four massive Doric columns that form the entrance. The columns support a simple shallow cornice, above which begin the vertical strip windows that climb the height of the five floors. They serve to amplify the Custom House’s height and lead the eye up toward the pinnacle of the clock tower. (Jade Franklin)

Opened in December 1934, the Park Hotel represents arguably the zenith of architectural achievement in Shanghai before World War II and in the career of its Shanghai-based and Hungarian-born architect, László Hudec. Hudec had arrived in Shanghai in 1918, where he enjoyed the most prolific years of his career, marked by a transition from traditional European styles to an espousal of Modernism. Hudec’s key influences, including Expressionism and the United States’s experimentation with the skyscraper, are epitomized in his design of this hotel.

The Park Hotel was originally known as the Joint Savings Society Building, and it was the tallest building in Shanghai until the 1980s. The soaring structure comprises two elements: a 21-story tower at the front and a lower section to the rear. A 300-foot-high (92 m) tensile-steel frame is supported on 400 wooden piles, each 150 feet (46 m) long, and a 24-foot-deep (7.3 m) reinforced concrete raft that prevents sinking into Shanghai’s infamously boggy soil.

Hudec accentuated the building’s verticality by tapering the tower’s outline, using slender windows separated by continuous vertical bands of brick from the fourth floor to the top of the building. He also employed heavy buttressing above the 13th floor, the contours of which are maintained down to the second floor, again through brick detailing. Above the third floor, the building is finished in tessellated brick and tiles of contrasting brown hues. The first three floors of the building, faced in black granite, provide a weighty base for the tower and are emphasized by their horizontal form, bound by parallel bands of granite that skirt the building. Although the building has lost some of its old-world charm, it remains an architectural highlight of old Shanghai. (Edward Denison)

In 1990 Deng Xiaoping visited Shanghai and urged the municipal government to forge ahead with the development of Pudong, Shanghai’s once neglected backyard. Within months, Pudong was leveled, and the massive superstructures of nascent skyscrapers began to appear. Preeminent among all these structures was the Jin Mao Tower. When it opened in 1999, it was, at 1,380 feet (421 m), the tallest building in China, dwarfing its neighbors in Pudong. The elegant tapered structure shrouded in a sleek aluminum lattice frame and glass curtain raised the benchmark of architectural design.

The Jin Mao Tower’s design relies on a unique structure that comprised an octagonal concrete core and a total of just 16 exterior columns, which allowed each floor to be extremely open. One of the most notable characteristics of the Jin Mao Tower’s exterior is the progressively stepped profile, which gives the tower a majestic posture and suggests a sense of elevation above the growing crowd of skyscrapers in Pudong. A fortuitous consequence of this sequential design is the hinted semblance to China’s original skyscraper—the pagoda. Chinese characteristics abound in the design, most notably with the recurring association with the lucky number eight. The building is 88 stories high; each segment is an eighth smaller than the previous; the inner core is octagonal; and the design competition that it won was held when Deng Xiaoping was 88 years old.

A visit to this building is a must for the views of Shanghai and the vertiginous 33-story hotel atrium that bores a hole out of the building’s core. (Edward Denison)

In the midst of Pudong New Area’s extensive landscaping stands the organic form of the Shanghai Oriental Arts Center, designed by Paul Andreu. A bird’s-eye perspective reveals that the building resembles a five-petal flower, with five glazed lobes of varying size unfurling from a central core. Each of the five sections fulfills a particular function. Visitors gain access to the center via the first of these subdivisions, which serves as the entrance hall. From here admittance can be gained to the Philharmonic Performance Hall, Concert Hall, Exhibition Hall, or Opera Hall, located in the other four subdivisions. The organic references do not stop with the center’s plan, however, as the entire interior of the building is intended to evoke nature. To this end all of the walls are covered in large, rounded, and glazed porcelain tiles resembling oversized pebbles. These hang from wires attached to the ceiling and bring great warmth to the interior. They also provide the building with coherence and make it appear more human in scale. The ceramic tiles continue through the wide passage that winds uninterrupted around each petal in turn. A peaceful oasis in the surrounding urban sprawl, the Shanghai Oriental Arts Center hosts a variety of dance and music performances and can be best appreciated at night. It is then that the interior drop lights, designed to resemble stars from a distance, richly illuminate the center and truly animate the building. (Jade Franklin)

When one thinks of a new terminal at an airport, one typically imagines it increasing capacity by perhaps a third or a quarter. But Terminal 3 at Shenzhen Bao’an is effectively a new airport, enhancing capacity by a staggering 58 percent, allowing the airport to handle over 45 million passengers a year. It was completed in just three years, after a remarkably rapid process of design and construction.

The building, while unambiguously modern, also harks back to a time when flying was considered exciting, with a dramatic sculptural form and imaginative use of materials. Its plan—and unlike most building types, airport terminals are frequently seen from above—is apparently inspired by the sleek and powerful manta ray. The terminal is on three levels and makes maximum use of natural light. The steel cladding to the roof, which also curves round to form the walls, is honeycombed with hexagonal perforations that allow light to filter through. In addition there are large skylights, and openings within the floors allow the light to penetrate to ground level.

The other notable aspect of the building is color—or rather lack of it. This is a white building, both outside and in, with conical white columns and distinctive white “trees” that hold the air conditioning. Perforated metal ceilings, stone floors, and other finishes are equally pale, with color coming only from the retail spaces and, of course, the passengers. (Ruth Slavid)

The Temple of Heaven (Tiantán) Park is about 3 miles (4.8 km) south of Beijing’s Forbidden City. The park is a dignified complex of Taoist temples set in gardens, where the Ming and Qing emperors would conduct seasonal ceremonies, praying for good weather and harvests. The temple’s layout, and that of individual buildings, symbolizes the relationship between Earth and Heaven—the everyday and spiritual dimensions of life—at the heart of Chinese traditional cosmogony. The emperors had a special role of mediating between the natural and the spiritual worlds; their prayers were considered essential to the empire’s well-being.

The largest building in the Temple of Heaven is the Hall of Prayer for Good Harvests. The hall is a circular wooden structure, 125 feet (38 m) high and 98 feet (30 m) in diameter. It has a triple conical roof, covered in deep-blue glazed tiles representing heaven and topped by a bulbous golden finial. The construction of the hall is entirely in wood, with no iron nails or cement. The whole structure is supported by 28 large pillars. These are in red-lacquered nanmi (a fine hardwood) and symbolize the 28 constellations. The four central pillars are arranged according to a traditional symbolic calendar. The coffered ceiling is carved with dragons and phoenixes. In the center of the flagstone floor is a marble slab with veining also representing a dragon and phoenix. The whole interior is splendidly decorated in gold and traditional Chinese colors.

The hall stands on a Qigutan, a three-level circular terrace from which a causeway, planned according to Taoist geomancy, leads to the Earthly Mount altar. The hall was destroyed by lightning in 1889 but underwent restoration a year later. It was designated a World Heritage Site in 1998. (Aidan Turner-Bishop)

The Forbidden City is a complex of buildings built between 1406 and 1420 by the Ming Emperor Yongle when he moved the capital from Nanjing to Beijing. The vast palace complex is surrounded by a 33-foot-high (10 m) wall and a 170-foot-wide (52 m) moat. Within the walls, the complex is divided into the Inner Court and the Outer Court that are aligned along a central north-south axis.

Tai He Dian is popularly called Jin Luan Dian (Hall of Supreme Harmony), and it was used by the emperor to receive officials. It is located on the central axis within the Outer Court. Various vicissitudes, including multiple fires, have ensured various incarnations since 1420. The existing structure was built in the reign of Emperor Kangxi in 1695. Standing more than 114 feet (35 m) high with an area of 25,575 square feet (2,377 sq m), the Hall of Supreme Harmony is the largest of the Forbidden City’s halls and, as the largest surviving wooden structure in China, is an excellent example of traditional Chinese architecture.

From the outside, the building is conspicuous for its dominant position above a white marble terrace, and its double-eaved roof of yellow tiles supported by 72 wooden columns, 12 of which form a colonnade at the front of the building at ground level. Inside the sumptuous gold interior, the extraordinarily complex structure of the roof beams and eaves and the intricate paintwork are simply breathtaking. Symbolism is used throughout the building, and dragons—the sign of the emperor—are ubiquitous: in the center of the ceiling is a sculpted dragon holding a pearl between its teeth. Dragons are carved into six wooden columns that surround the emperor’s throne, which itself is decorated with dragons, as is every roof beam and crossbeam. (Edward Denison)

Constructed during the Song dynasty (960–1279), the brick Tiger Hill Pagoda—also known as Cloud Rock Pagoda—was constructed to replace and imitate in its design a previous wooden Tang Dynasty structure. It is, for this reason, a valuable resource for information regarding Chinese wooden pagoda design.

Built 1.8 miles (3 km) northwest of Suzhou, as part of the Yunyan Temple established at the summit of Tiger Hill, the Tiger Hill Pagoda is the oldest of such structures in the area. It is octagonal in plan and consists of seven stories that reach to a height of 258 feet (48 m). What is of particular interest, however, is the fact that the 600-ton pagoda has been tilting for more than 400 years and today leans to the northwest, 8 feet (2.5 m) off-center.

Despite this tilt, the gentle tapering and subsequent graceful curving of the pagoda’s exterior walls make it particularly elegant. Upon the structure’s surface, constructed in fine brickwork, are distinctive brackets that appear to support the projecting ledges, which wind around each story. These, in fact, have no structural purpose and, like the lintels above the many doorways, have been added for purely decorative reasons. Remnants of red paint that would have originally decorated the lintels can still be seen surrounding the numerous pointed doorways, the scalloped edges of which are relatively unusual in Chinese pagoda design.

The extent of the decoration demonstrates the increasing ornamentation of Chinese Buddhist pagodas, but the plainer structure of today has lost none of its charm. Indeed, the entire pagoda, in its aged state, has become an intrinsic part of the hill upon which it stands and serves as an icon for the ancient city of Suzhou. As declared by Su Shi, the Song dynasty poet, “It is a lifelong pity if having visited Suzhou you did not visit Tiger Hill.” (Jade Franklin)

In 2002 the municipal government of Jinhua established a new urban zone—the Jindong New District—in what used to be an agricultural area. The Beijing-born artist Ai Weiwei, son of the famous Jinhua poet Ai Qin, was selected to contribute conceptual designs for the new development and, later, to develop a park on a long narrow site measuring 262 by 7,218 feet (80 x 2,200 m). Ai decided to develop a collective project, inviting five Chinese and 11 international architects and designers to contribute to the park. The construction of 17 public pavilions in this park represents a minor museum of international architecture in China at the beginning of the 21st century.

Most notable among this collection of low-budget follies is Wang Shu’s Coffee House. Based on the concept of a Chinese ink stone (used to grind ink sticks to make liquid ink), the purity of this building’s form—a simple cube scarred only by a series of small square holes that puncture one side of the building—contrasts with its intensely detailed surface of tiny glazed tiles in different hues. The juxtaposition of simplicity of form and complexity of surface is a deliberate attempt by the architect to draw attention to the nature of architecture being about surface as much as it is about space. (Edward Denison)