Yuzhou(Joe) Wu

LEGENDARY INTERVIEW

Design Legends ("DL") had the distinct honour to interview legendary designer Yuzhou(Joe) Wu ("YW") for their original perspective and innovative approach to design as well as their creative lifestyle, we are very pleased to share our interview with our distinguished readers.

DL: Could you please tell us a bit about your design background and education?

YW : I didn’t start as a designer in the conventional sense. My formal education was in data analytics—not design. But that became my advantage. While studying in the U.S., I took on part-time jobs and began organizing events. To save costs, I created all the visual materials myself—flyers, banners, posters. That was my accidental first contact with design. Later, I helped film school friends with small productions. I worked behind the scenes—lighting, editing, storytelling. Over time, I realized that what I truly cared about wasn’t just “making things look good,” but constructing rhythm, structure, and emotional clarity. Eventually, I opened a bubble tea shop and handled the branding, space planning, and customer flow entirely on my own. That experience shaped me. It taught me that design is not a profession—it’s a way of thinking, editing, and offering presence. I became a designer not by certification, but by continuous iteration. I learned by doing, failing, adjusting—and by never stopping to observe what really moves people.

DL: What motivates you to design in general, why did you become a designer?

YW : Design didn’t begin for me as a career—it began as survival. I started designing because I had to. In university, I couldn’t afford a designer, so I designed everything myself. Later, I realized that design gave me a way to make sense of things—to bring order to ambiguity, and rhythm to chaos. What continues to motivate me is not the act of creating, but the process of clarifying. I’m interested in how space can shape emotion, how structure can carry memory, and how small gestures can shift perception. Design, for me, is a kind of thinking made visible. It’s not about style—it’s about editing life into meaning.

DL: Did you choose to become a designer, or you were forced to become one?

YW : At first, I didn’t choose design—necessity chose it for me. I began designing because I had no other option. I needed visuals for events, branding for my own shop, communication tools for my early ventures. I couldn’t afford help, so I made it myself. But over time, something shifted. I realized I wasn’t just solving problems—I was creating structure. Design gave me a language that connected logic with emotion, pace with purpose. It became a way of thinking, not just making. So no, I didn’t plan to become a designer. But now, I choose it every day—not as a title, but as a tool for clarity.

DL: What do you design, what type of designs do you wish to design more of?

YW : I design across disciplines—spatial experiences, brand systems, cultural strategies, and narrative environments. What connects all of them is rhythm. I’m less interested in aesthetics for their own sake, and more in how form carries emotion, how space creates tempo, and how structure frames memory. I’m especially drawn to projects that sit between disciplines—where architecture meets storytelling, where branding meets behavior, where silence says more than graphics. In the future, I hope to work more on public-facing cultural spaces—exhibitions, museums, hybrid institutions—where design isn’t just functional, but reflective and catalytic.

DL: What should young designers do to become a design legend like you?

YW : Don’t rush to be visible. First, learn to see. Before you form a style, form a system of observation. Ask better questions. Sit with ambiguity. Be okay with not knowing—because clarity doesn’t come from speed. It comes from rhythm. A design legend isn’t someone who makes the loudest work. It’s someone who knows what not to say. Who creates space—structurally, emotionally, culturally—for others to feel something real. So start with presence, not polish. Start with questions, not answers. And when in doubt—slow down.

DL: What distinguishes between a good designer and a great designer?

YW : A good designer solves problems. A great designer reframes them. A good designer communicates clearly. A great designer knows when to let silence speak. A good designer delivers what’s asked. A great designer delivers what’s necessary—even if it wasn’t asked for. The difference is rhythm. Great designers don’t just make things look better—they shape perception, shift behavior, and give meaning space to unfold. Good design satisfies. Great design lingers.

DL: What makes a good design a really good design, how do you evaluate good design?

YW : To me, a really good design does three things: 1.It holds structure – The logic is clear, the layout breathes, and the system is coherent. 2.It shapes emotion – There’s rhythm, atmosphere, and an intentional psychological effect. 3.It respects context – It understands where it lives—culturally, functionally, and historically. Good design isn’t just about form or originality. It’s about judgment: What do you say? What do you hold back? What does the space say on its own? I also ask one final question: Does it make me pause—not because it’s loud, but because it’s right? If the answer is yes, then it’s good design.

DL: What is the value of good design? Why should everyone invest in good design?

YW : Good design is not a luxury—it’s a form of clarity. It helps people move better, feel safer, think clearer, and act with more intention. Whether it’s a room, a brand, or a service—design shapes how we experience meaning. Investing in good design is not just about appearance. It’s about behavior, attention, emotion, and long-term alignment. Bad design creates confusion. Good design creates confidence. And that confidence—quiet, intuitive, and durable—is what makes things truly work. So why invest in good design? Because everything else depends on it.

DL: What would you design and who would you design for if you had the time?

YW : If I had the time, I would design a museum—not for trophies, but for unfinished thoughts. It wouldn’t be a place for answers. It would be a space for rhythm, ambiguity, and quiet structures. A place where people could feel the emotional logic of form—without needing to name it. And I would design it for people like me: Those who didn’t come from “design schools,” who grew up between cultures, who are still trying to figure out what it means to belong, to build, to slow down. Sometimes I think the world doesn’t need more impressive architecture. It needs more spaces that make you breathe differently.

DL: What is the dream project you haven’t yet had time to realize?

YW : I’ve always wanted to create a space that exists somewhere between an exhibition, a meditation room, and a cultural broadcast—an atmospheric experience of contemporary Chinese rhythm. It wouldn’t try to explain “Chinese culture.” It would simply let you feel it—through light, material, sequence, breath. No timeline, no placard, no pressure to understand—just presence. I haven’t had the time or headspace to begin. But I know exactly how it should feel: A space where silence is not absence, but depth. Where tradition is not reference, but tension. One day, I’ll build it—not as a showcase, but as a quiet offering.

DL: What is your secret recipe of success in design, what is your secret ingredient?

YW : My secret ingredient? I listen more than I speak. I don’t rush to solve problems—I wait for the right rhythm to reveal itself. I don’t design to impress—I design to clarify. In design, most people focus on form or originality. I focus on judgment. What to say. When to stop. What to leave unsaid. Good work is not just about doing more. It’s about knowing when to hold, when to release, and when to disappear. That’s my secret. Rhythm, restraint, and respect—for space, for timing, and for meaning.

DL: Who are some other design masters and legends you get inspired from?

YW : I often return to the works of Louis Kahn, Isamu Noguchi, and Tadao Ando—not just for their forms, but for their silence. Kahn taught me that light is structure. Noguchi showed me that clarity can contain ambiguity. Ando proved that restraint can hold immense emotional power. Outside of design, I’m inspired by filmmakers like Tarkovsky, and writers like John Berger—people who taught me to slow down, observe rhythm, and let absence speak. I’m not looking for visual influence. I’m looking for designers who understand space as a form of thinking, timing, and offering presence.

DL: What are your favorite designs by other designers, why do you like them?

YW : One project I deeply admire is Tadao Ando’s Church of the Light. It’s not just about minimalism—it’s about emotional compression. The way light slices through concrete, the silence in the material, the absence that becomes presence—that level of restraint is profound. I also find great inspiration in Isamu Noguchi’s Akari series. Delicate yet structural, soft yet defined. These paper forms feel like they’re breathing. They prove that lightness can still hold deep intention. Lastly, I’m drawn to John Pawson’s monastic works—spaces that almost disappear, and yet reframe how we relate to walls, distance, and time. What I admire in all these works is not the form itself, but the timing of decisions—when to stop, what to remove, how to say more by doing less.

DL: What is your greatest design, which aspects of that design makes you think it is great?

YW : One of the projects I consider my most complete work was a workplace transformation, turning a former industrial space into a layered office experience—using the spatial rhythm of traditional Chinese gardens. What made it great wasn’t the size or the style. It was the structure. We didn’t try to impress. We tried to dissolve hierarchy, guide emotional pacing, and let the space feel quiet but intelligent. Every decision was about timing—when to turn, when to reveal, when to hold. I led both the conceptual direction and execution, translating ideas like “borrowed scenery,” “slow procession,” and “psychological clarity” into layout, material, and atmosphere. It was the first time I felt that a design didn’t just work—it breathed.

DL: How could people improve themselves to be better designers, what did you do?

YW : To become a better designer, don’t just study design—study how people feel, move, pause, and decide. Most of what helped me grow had nothing to do with “design” directly. I worked in events, retail, filmmaking, teaching, even delivery driving. Each experience gave me a different lens to understand behavior, emotion, and structure. Here’s what I learned—and still practice: •Observe before you express. •Clarify before you decorate. •Edit before you add. I didn’t take the fast route. I built my system by doing, failing, adjusting—and always asking: What is this design really trying to hold?

DL: If you hadn’t become a designer, what would you have done?

YW : If I hadn’t become a designer, I probably would’ve become a creative producer—or someone who builds cultural platforms behind the scenes. Even before I knew what “design” was, I was always organizing things: events, visuals, teams, stories. I like creating frameworks where other people can do great work. Not necessarily being the loudest voice, but being the structural spine. So whether in branding, film, retail, or architecture—what I really love is orchestrating rhythm. Design just happens to be the medium where all those instincts converge.

DL: How do you define design, what is design for you?

YW : For me, design is about making things work—for people, in real contexts. It’s not just about how something looks, but how it functions, how it feels, and how clearly it communicates. A good design helps people move, decide, focus, or breathe better—even if they don’t notice it. Design isn’t decoration. It’s decision-making. It’s choosing what matters, and removing what doesn’t. At its core, design is a tool to organize complexity, and to make things more understandable, useful, and human.

DL: Who helped you to reach these heights, who was your biggest supporter?

YW : I didn’t get here alone. Along the way, there were people who gave me trust before I had results—friends who pulled me into projects, mentors who challenged my thinking, and collaborators who made my work better just by showing up. One of the most important turning points was meeting my current business partner—we had similar values about design, culture, and long-term thinking. That partnership gave me both freedom and pressure in the best ways. Also, I’ve learned a lot from my team. I may lead the direction, but they help me sharpen it. Nothing I do is truly solo—even when it looks like it.

DL: What helped you to become a great designer?

YW : What helped me most was learning to think in structure and rhythm—not just in style. I didn’t come from a design school, so I had to build my own system. That meant asking better questions, watching how people behave, and learning to remove what’s unnecessary. Also, I wasn’t afraid to start small. I designed flyers, shops, websites—whatever I had access to. I learned by doing, failing, fixing, and repeating. Over time, I developed a sense of timing—when to hold back, when to shift, when to say nothing. That’s what design really is. Not just making something nice, but knowing what role it plays—and when.

DL: What were the obstacles you faced before becoming a design master?

YW : My biggest obstacle was not having a formal design education. That meant I had no portfolio, no system, no one telling me what was “correct.” I had to learn everything by doing—designing flyers, shops, websites—often alone, with limited time and zero budget. The second challenge was being taken seriously. When you don’t come from a big name or school, people often see you as “just figuring things out.” That used to frustrate me, but now I think it trained me to be more observant, more prepared, and more responsible for every decision. No one handed me a path—I had to build mine. And in that process, I learned something more valuable than design rules: I learned how to think clearly, act calmly, and trust my own pace.

DL: How do you think designers should present their work?

YW : Good presentation is not about showing everything—it’s about showing what matters, clearly and in rhythm. Designers often over-explain or over-decorate their presentations. But the best ones do three things: 1.Explain the logic, not just the form 2.Control the pacing – Don’t overwhelm; guide the viewer 3.Create emotional clarity – The audience should feel the structure, not just see the visuals Personally, I believe in showing less, but with better timing and sharper intent. A good design doesn’t just need explanation—it needs a presentation that breathes, holds, and convinces with confidence.

DL: What’s your next design project, what should we expect from you in future?

YW : Right now, I’m working on a few cross-cultural spatial projects—where the focus is not just on design quality, but on how design becomes a bridge between ways of thinking. In the near future, I hope to lead more public-facing projects—like exhibitions, hybrid cultural spaces, and platforms that support younger designers entering international contexts. More importantly, I’m shifting from doing everything myself to mentoring, curating, and leading from behind. You can expect less visibility from me—and more structure behind the scenes. Not just more designs, but better environments where design itself can grow.

DL: What’s your ultimate goal as a designer?

YW : My ultimate goal as a designer is not just to create more projects, but to become a bridge—between generations, between cultures, and between ways of thinking. I want to help younger designers gain structure and voice, just as I was once supported and challenged into becoming better. As a Chinese designer, I also feel a deep responsibility: to let the world hear a richer, more human voice from China—not as a trend, but as a presence. Eventually, I hope to step back from the spotlight, and focus on building platforms, teams, and spaces where others can rise. Because to me, design is not just a way to express myself. It’s a way to carry meaning forward—across time, across people.

DL: What people expect from an esteemed designer such as yourself?

YW : I think people expect me to offer more than just design—they expect clarity, rhythm, and a larger sense of direction. Clients expect me to bring structure. Younger designers expect me to share experience and ask better questions. Cultural collaborators expect me to help translate between worlds. And I accept that responsibility—not by trying to have all the answers, but by helping others frame the right questions, build the right environments, and make thoughtful design more visible, more respected, and more human.

DL: How does design help create a better society?

YW : Design helps create a better society by organizing how we live, move, feel, and relate to each other. Good design brings structure to complexity. It creates spaces that feel safe, flows that reduce friction, and systems that help people make better decisions—quietly, in the background. At a deeper level, design also shapes how we understand time, attention, and meaning. It can preserve culture, reveal tension, and build empathy across differences. Design doesn’t fix everything. But when it’s done right, it helps people breathe better, think clearer, and live with more awareness. And that’s where real change begins.

DL: What are you currently working on that you are especially excited about?

YW : Right now, I’m working on a cultural space project that blends exhibition, retail, and public gathering—centered around how traditional Chinese values can be experienced through contemporary design. What excites me most is the hybrid nature of the project: It’s not just spatial or visual—it’s also editorial, behavioral, and symbolic. We’re designing not only what people see, but how they move, pause, and interpret meaning. I’m also working more behind the scenes—guiding younger creatives, helping shape design strategy, and curating multi-layered experiences. This project feels like a reflection of everything I care about: culture, clarity, rhythm, and the long-term value of thoughtful design.

DL: Which design projects gave you the most satisfaction, why?

YW : One of the projects that gave me the most satisfaction was an office renovation where we transformed a rigid industrial layout into a space inspired by traditional Chinese garden logic. It wasn’t the biggest or most visually complex project—but it worked on a deeper level. The team moved differently, people felt calmer, and even visitors could sense the rhythm of space without being told what it meant. That’s what made it satisfying: the fact that something abstract—like flow, breath, and emotional clarity—was actually felt. It reminded me that good design isn’t loud. It’s just right.

DL: What would you like to see changed in design industry in the coming years?

YW : I’d like to see the industry slow down—just enough to think more clearly. There’s too much emphasis on speed, trends, and surface-level aesthetics. Not enough focus on structure, long-term value, and emotional depth. I hope we move toward a culture where design is not judged only by what it looks like, but by what it enables—behaviorally, culturally, and socially. I also hope more young designers are supported not just as “stylists,” but as strategists and storytellers—people who can shape how we live and think. Design shouldn’t just respond to urgency. It should help define what’s worth being urgent about.

DL: Where do you think the design field is headed next?

YW : I think the design field is moving toward integration, rhythm, and reflection. It’s no longer just about making things look good or work well. Design is being asked to handle complex systems, translate across cultures, and hold emotional and ethical weight. We’ll see more crossover between design, strategy, psychology, and technology. The designer is no longer just a visual creator—but a connector, editor, and cultural translator. At the same time, I believe there will be more value placed on slower, deeper, and more meaningful work—projects that create presence, not just output. In short: Less decoration, more direction. Less noise, more structure.

DL: How long does it take you to finalize a design project?

YW : It depends on the scale and nature of the project. Some projects take 3 weeks, others take 8 months. But for me, the real timeline isn’t just about hours—it’s about clarity. A project is ready when: •The structure holds, •The rhythm feels right, •And nothing more needs to be added—or taken away. Sometimes that clarity comes fast. Other times, it needs time to breathe. I don’t rush to finish. I pace to align. Because a rushed design might work on paper, but a well-timed one works in real life.

DL: When you have a new design project, where do you start?

YW : I always start by asking: what problem are we really solving here? I begin with research, stakeholder conversations, and environmental context. It’s important for me to understand the deeper intention behind the brief—not just what the client says they want, but what they truly need. From there, I usually map out constraints, user perspectives, and a narrative thread that can guide both form and function. Before drawing anything, I define the logic.

DL: What is your life motto as a designer?

YW : “Design is not about making things beautiful, it’s about making things work—with clarity and purpose.” I believe aesthetics should follow logic, and that good design improves how people live, decide, and connect.

DL: Do you think design sets the trends or trends set the designs?

YW : I think good design sits somewhere in between. It listens to trends without blindly following them. A strong designer observes cultural patterns but responds with structure, not reaction. The best work doesn’t chase relevance—it helps define it by being clear, grounded, and lasting.

DL: What is the role of technology when you design?

YW : Technology is a tool—not the destination. It helps me test, visualize, and communicate more efficiently. From digital modeling to parametric workflows, tech supports the process, but never replaces thinking. That said, I’m excited by how tech can expand access, simulate human behavior, and offer new ways of prototyping space, material, or interaction.

DL: What kind of design software and equipment do you use in your work?

YW : I use a hybrid stack depending on the stage of the project. Early ideation usually happens on paper or Notion. For visualization and spatial planning, I rely on Rhino, SketchUp, and Enscape. For visual communication, I use Adobe CC (especially Illustrator and InDesign), and sometimes Figma for collaborative UI/UX work. Hardware-wise, I use a Wacom tablet, high-res monitor, and a solid desktop setup with a custom GPU configuration for rendering.

DL: What is the role of the color, materials and ambient in design?

YW : They are not just surface-level choices—they’re sensory tools that shape behavior and emotion. Color can guide mood or clarity; materials define texture, memory, and tactility; and ambient elements like light, acoustics, and scent affect how people feel inside a space. A successful design considers all of them as part of one cohesive system of perception.

DL: What do you wish people to ask about your design?

YW : I wish more people would ask, “Why is it shaped like this?” or “How does it help people?” instead of just saying “It looks nice.” Design isn’t about making something cool—it’s about making something meaningful, contextual, and usable. If someone sees the reasoning behind a decision, I feel I’ve done my job well.

DL: When you see a new great design or product what comes into your mind?

YW : I usually ask myself, “Why does this feel so right?” I reverse-engineer the intention, the structure, the constraints that might’ve been solved. Great design makes you feel something and then helps you think—whether it’s a piece of furniture, a digital tool, or a spatial experience.

DL: Who is your ideal design partner? Do you believe in co-design?

YW : Absolutely. I believe the best design comes from friction, contrast, and dialogue. My ideal partner is someone who thinks differently but shares a common goal. I enjoy working with people who push my assumptions and bring unexpected clarity. Co-design, when built on mutual respect and trust, leads to deeper insight and better solutions.

DL: Which people you interacted had the most influence on your design?

YW : Clients who challenged me, collaborators who asked the right questions, and younger designers who reminded me to stay curious—all shaped how I think. But the most impactful were people outside the design field: business partners, filmmakers, cultural researchers. They taught me how design needs to live with other disciplines.

DL: Which books you read had the most effect on your design?

YW : Several books changed how I see design: •“The Timeless Way of Building” by Christopher Alexander, for its systems thinking •“Designing Design” by Kenya Hara, for the philosophy of emptiness and clarity •“How Buildings Learn” by Stewart Brand, for understanding how space evolves over time •And “The Art of Looking Sideways” by Alan Fletcher, which helped me think non-linearly.

DL: How did you develop your skills as a master designer?

YW : Mostly by doing. I didn’t follow a traditional path. I worked in events, branding, interiors, even delivery services—and each experience taught me something about flow, emotion, and clarity. I built my system through practice, reflection, and feedback. I think real mastery comes not from knowing all the tools, but from knowing when and why to use them.

DL: Irrelative of time and space, who you would want to meet, talk and discuss with?

YW : I’d love to talk with Dieter Rams or Enzo Mari—not just about objects, but their values. Their work has a level of restraint and precision that I deeply admire. I’d also love to sit down with someone like John Cage or Tadao Ando—people who bring silence and structure together in powerful ways.

DL: How do you feel about all the awards and recognition you had, is it hard to be famous?

YW : I see awards and recognition as reminders—not labels. They let me know that what I do is being seen and understood, which I’m grateful for. But they also remind me to stay focused on meaningful, thoughtful design—not on chasing expectations. Being “seen” can bring pressure, sure—especially when people start looking at you with higher standards. But I treat that as a responsibility: to turn my experience into better judgment, to support more projects, and to help younger designers find their rhythm. So is it hard to be known? Sometimes. But more importantly—it’s worth it. And that’s what keeps me going.

DL: What is your favorite color, place, food, season, thing and brand?

YW : I’ve always liked neutral colors—black, white, grey—maybe because I appreciate structure and space more than saturation. My favorite places are Yunnan and Kyoto—both calm, detailed, and rhythmically slow. I’m obsessed with good coffee and rice—simple, but they can’t be careless. I like autumn the most—it’s quiet, clear, and full of subtle closure. If I had to name a favorite “thing,” it’d be paper and pen—I still think best when I write things out by hand. As for brands, I like the quiet, structured ones: Aesop, MUJI, Bang & Olufsen. They don’t shout, but they speak clearly.

DL: Please tell us a little memoir, a funny thing you had experienced as a designer?

YW : Early in my career, I had to handle everything myself to save budget—concept design, drawings, renderings, even the marketing materials. One client got completely confused and asked if I ran a “one-stop renovation company” instead of a design studio. It was both funny and slightly painful at the time, but looking back, it taught me a lot. Because I had touched every part of the process, I developed a sharper sense of what really matters in a project—and when to let go. That “do-it-all” phase became the foundation of how I judge and lead design today.

DL: What makes your day great as a designer, how do you motivate yourself?

YW : What makes my day great as a designer is when the client truly understands and appreciates the solution we’ve provided. For me, design isn’t about showing off or chasing aesthetics—it’s about solving real problems. When my decisions help things move forward, and when people feel relieved or empowered because of the design, that’s what motivates me to keep going. Solving problems is what makes the work meaningful.

DL: When you were a little child, was it obvious that you would become a great designer?

YW : Not really. I wasn’t the kid who drew all the time or talked about architecture. But looking back, I was always organizing things—rearranging furniture at home, planning class events, helping others figure out how to explain ideas better. I liked building things from scratch, not just physically, but conceptually. I cared about how things felt, how people reacted, and how the pieces fit together. So no, it wasn’t “obvious” I’d become a designer. But the signs were there: I just didn’t have the word for it yet.

DL: What do you think about future; what do you see will happen in thousand years from now?

YW : A thousand years from now, everything will change—technology, tools, even how we live. But I think one thing won’t change: people will still need to feel connected, seen, and understood. No matter how advanced we get, we’ll still need good design to organize space, emotion, and experience. Design might become more invisible, more system-based, but it’ll still be there—helping people live better. I don’t think the future is about more features or faster updates. It’s about clarity, simplicity, and human focus—and that’s what I hope design keeps doing.

DL: Please tell us anything you wish your fans to know about you, your design and anything else?

YW : If you’ve followed my work—thank you. I’m not here to impress, but to build structures that hold meaning, clarity, and rhythm. I don’t always get it right on the first try. But I care deeply about what design can do—not just visually, but emotionally and culturally. And if there’s one thing I hope you remember about my work: It’s not just about style. It’s about structure with purpose, space with presence, and design with respect.