Hang Chen explains:
The adage “let architecture resonate with its context and its people” encapsulates a twofold design imperative: first, that architecture must respond thoughtfully to its physical, cultural, and historical surroundings; and second, that it must serve and uplift the individuals who inhabit or encounter it. In other words, a building should not stand as a mere isolated object but rather function as an instrument of harmony—vibrating in unison with its environment and the social pulse of its users.Vitruvius famously asserted that a well-built structure must satisfy firmness, commodity, and delight—in modern terms: structural integrity, utility, and aesthetic appeal. This triad implies that architecture inherently engages with its surroundings (commodity and delight) and the people who use it (commodity). My adage builds on this foundation by emphasizing “resonance” as the unifying quality that aligns these objectives. Where Vitruvius’s triad asks whether a building is durable, functional, and beautiful, resonance asks: does the building’s form, language, and experience vibrate with both its site and its inhabitants? Louis Sullivan’s maxim “form ever follows function” underscores the notion that design should be grounded in purpose and use. But functions arise from context—whether social, climatic, or cultural—and from the lived experiences of people. When we say a design resonates with context, we mean that its form and materiality acknowledge local climate, vernacular traditions, or historical narratives (e.g., using local stone to echo a region’s geology). As Frank Gehry observed, “Architecture should speak of its time and place, but yearn for timelessness”. This duality—temporal and spatial resonance—ensures a building does not become “placeless” or disconnected from memory, while still offering enduring value. Resonance with people highlights human-centric design: understanding how users move, gather, and find meaning in space. This principle traces back to Garrett Eckbo’s assertion that “design shall be dynamic, not static. Design shall be areal, not axial. Design shall be three dimensional, people live in volumes, not planes”. Such a directive calls us to consider not just the spatial metrics but the social interactions and emotional connections that architecture fosters. When architecture resonates with people, it can enliven communal life, facilitate well-being, and encourage a sense of ownership and identity among occupants.Moreover, resonance is about sustainability—both ecological and social. Integrating passive design strategies (natural ventilation, daylighting) ensures harmony with climate; likewise, incorporating community spaces or local craftsmanship imbues a project with social resonance. Christopher Alexander’s idea that “people live in patterns” reminds us that architecture must align with human behaviors and rhythms. If we ignore these patterns, buildings risk feeling alien or sterile. By contrast, an architecture that resonates feels both familiar and inspiring; it amplifies local narratives while adapting gracefully to contemporary needs. In sum, the adage calls for design that is neither functionally narrow nor superficially decorative, but rather one that evokes meaningful dialogue between place and people. It reaffirms Vitruvian virtues by insisting on structural integrity and utility, but it extends them through an emphasis on conscious responsiveness. It complements Sullivan’s creed by ensuring function is interpreted through contextual and anthropological lenses. Ultimately, resonance becomes the measure by which a design transcends mere physical presence to become a catalyst for environmental stewardship and human flourishing.