Ruiting Xu

My journey into art and design began with a deep fascination for how spaces shape human experience. I first studied Interior Design, which grounded me in spatial sensibility and material awareness. Later, I pursued a Master's degree in Architecture at the Southern California Institute of Architecture where I developed a more critical and conceptual approach to design; one that bridges environmental, social, and poetic concerns. I didn’t always know I would become a designer, but I was always drawn to making things whether sketching, building models or observing the way people interact with their environments. What drew me in was the idea that design is not just about how things look, but how they function, how they endure, and how they carry meaning over time. Becoming a designer felt like a natural path where creativity meets responsibility and imagination meets structure.

I work independently as an architectural designer with a focus on sustainability, material experimentation and spatial storytelling. My work ranges from architectural projects to object and exhibition design, often exploring how form, function and context intersect. I’m especially interested in how design can respond to environmental challenges while also engaging with the emotional and cultural dimensions of space. Each project is an opportunity to ask questions, test ideas and refine a language that is both thoughtful and grounded.

For me, design is a process of inquiry and intention. It’s about more than aesthetics; it’s a way of thinking, observing and responding to the world. Good design reveals relationships: between people and space, between materials and time. I see design as a responsibility to create something that is not only functional, but also meaningful, something that endures, adapts and enriches experience. Whether it's architecture or an object, design is a dialogue between the tangible and the conceptual, the practical and the poetic.

I’m most drawn to designing works that engage with both environmental and human needs; projects where spatial design becomes a form of storytelling and problem-solving. I particularly enjoy working on architecture that responds to challenging contexts, such as water scarcity or social inequity, where the design must function as infrastructure, shelter, and cultural symbol all at once. I also enjoy creating objects and installations that explore material behavior and interaction, where design invites reflection, play or participation. Ultimately, I like work that asks meaningful questions and has the potential to create lasting, layered impact.

One of my favorite designs is The Vessel Type which is a project developed in response to the seasonal flooding and drought cycles in western Madagascar. It’s an architectural structure that collects, filters and stores rainwater, while also serving as communal space and agricultural infrastructure. The design integrates with the topography and local ecology, offering protection, water access and gathering spaces throughout the year. What makes it meaningful to me is how it operates on multiple levels. It’s functional, symbolic and deeply rooted in place. It was also a turning point in how I think about architecture as a living system, something that evolves with and supports the community it serves.

The first thing I designed for a company was part of a public plaza project. Specifically, I worked on the spatial layout and detailing of outdoor seating and circulation zones. It was a collaborative process where I learned how design decisions impact user experience at different scales, from the alignment of paving patterns to the positioning of shade structures. It taught me how even small interventions can shape how people move through and inhabit a space and how important it is to balance aesthetics with function and durability.

I’m particularly drawn to working with raw, tactile materials like clay, earth, and recycled composites that show their age, history or transformation over time. I like how these materials carry a narrative and often require you to work with their natural properties rather than impose control. In terms of technology, I enjoy using 3D printing as a tool for prototyping and testing structural relationships, especially in projects where interlocking components or layered assemblies play a key role. It allows for precision, but also encourages experimentation in form and assembly.

I feel most creative when I’m in the early conceptual phase of a project when I’m exploring ideas through sketches, models, or even just observing the site or materials. It’s that moment when constraints start to reveal opportunities, and I can begin to shape a narrative or system around them. I also find creativity flows when I’m working hands-on with materials, seeing how they behave, fail, or surprise me often leads to unexpected solutions.

I tend to focus on how a design performs across multiple layers which are functionally, socially, and environmentally. I start by understanding the context and the people it will serve, then think about how the form, materiality and spatial flow can support those needs over time. I pay close attention to the relationships between elements, how light moves through a space, how materials age, how people will move or gather. Whether it’s a building or an object, I try to make sure every aspect contributes to a cohesive system that feels intentional and grounded.

When I design, I often feel a mix of excitement and curiosity. There’s a certain thrill in discovering the potential of materials, spaces, and ideas, and how they can come together to solve a problem or tell a story. I also feel a sense of responsibility, designing with sustainability, community impact, and lasting relevance in mind can feel weighty at times, but it’s also incredibly fulfilling. At the same time, I experience moments of quiet contemplation, especially when working through complex problems. It's a balance of energy and introspection that makes the process feel alive.

When my designs are realized, I feel a deep sense of fulfillment and connection. It’s a rewarding experience to see something that started as an idea or a sketch transform into a tangible, functional space or object. There’s also a sense of relief and pride, knowing that the concept I envisioned is now interacting with the world in ways I couldn’t fully predict.

A design is successful when it effectively addresses the needs it was created for, whether that’s providing shelter, enhancing a user experience, or solving a specific problem. However, beyond functionality, I believe a successful design also resonates on a deeper level. It should engage the senses, evoke emotion, and have lasting relevance. A design is truly successful when it adapts over time, remains sustainable, and contributes positively to its context; whether that’s through material longevity, community engagement or environmental impact. It’s a balance of purpose, aesthetics and responsibility.

When judging a design, I first consider its functionality, whether it serves its intended purpose and meets the needs of the people it was designed for. I look at how the design responds to its context, both physically and socially. Is it sustainable? Does it consider the long-term impact on the environment and the community? After that, I assess its emotional and aesthetic qualities such as how it makes people feel and how it interacts with its surroundings. A good design strikes a balance between form, function and meaning, and can engage both the mind and the senses.

I believe designers have a profound responsibility to both society and the environment. We shape the spaces people live, work and gather in. For society, our role is to create inclusive, equitable and accessible designs that support well-being and foster a sense of community. For the environment, we must design with long-term sustainability in mind - minimizing harm, using resources wisely, and creating systems that adapt and endure. Design shouldn’t just respond to the present; it should anticipate the future and contribute positively to the ecosystems and cultures it touches.

The design field is becoming increasingly interdisciplinary and responsive, moving beyond traditional boundaries to engage with urgent global issues like climate change, social inequity and digital transformation. I see the future of design as more systemic and regenerative. Designers act not just as creators but as facilitators of change. There’s a growing emphasis on circular processes and material innovation where communities are part of shaping their environments. I think design will continue to evolve as a tool for resilience and connection, integrating nature, technology, and human experience in more thoughtful and adaptable ways.

My design style is adaptive and context-driven. I’m drawn to forms that emerge from necessity and meaning where aesthetics are shaped by environmental conditions, material behavior and cultural narratives. I often explore contrasts: coarse and smooth surfaces, openness and enclosure, permanence and impermanence. These tensions create layered experiences that invite reflection and interaction. What led me to this style is a deep interest in how architecture and objects can respond to both human and ecological systems, not as static solutions, but as evolving frameworks. My approach is always rooted in research, empathy, and iteration, letting the constraints of place, material and purpose guide the form and function organically.

My design process usually begins with observation and research, understanding the context, the people involved and the environmental conditions. I spend time defining the underlying questions or problems before jumping into form-making. From there, I explore ideas through sketches, physical models and digital studies, often testing how materials behave or how different systems can interact. I try to keep the process iterative and open-ended, allowing feedback and constraints to shape the direction.

One of the greatest positives of being a designer is the ability to shape environments and experiences that impact people’s lives in meaningful ways. It’s incredibly fulfilling to see an idea evolve into something tangible that others can use, feel or interact with. Design also keeps you constantly learning; whether through materials, technologies or cultural contexts, there’s always something new to explore. On the flip side, the process can be mentally and emotionally demanding. Design often involves navigating ambiguity, working under pressure, and balancing idealism with real-world limitations like budgets, timelines or client expectations. It requires resilience and patience. Still, those challenges often push the work to be sharper and more thoughtful in the end.

Designing can definitely be time consuming, especially when you're invested in doing it thoughtfully. I manage my time by breaking projects into clear phases: research, concept, development, refinement, and setting realistic milestones for each. I try to start with a strong structure but stay flexible, since design often involves unexpected turns. Prioritizing tasks and knowing when to step back and reassess helps me avoid burnout and keep perspective. I’ve also learned that taking breaks especially to step away from the screen often leads to better ideas and clearer decisions. It’s about balancing focus with breathing room.

I enjoy design work that allows me to engage deeply with both environmental and human contexts - projects where architecture or objects respond to real needs while also offering poetic and experiential qualities. I’m especially drawn to work that deals with sustainability, resource systems and cultural narratives where design becomes a medium for both utility and storytelling. These types of projects push me to think critically and creatively across disciplines, and I find them the most rewarding because they have the potential to make lasting, meaningful impacts both socially and ecologically.

It depends on the nature of the project. I value both independent and collaborative work. When developing conceptual pieces or early-stage designs, I often work independently to fully explore the idea and direction. But in professional or larger-scale projects, I enjoy working as part of a team; sharing knowledge, exchanging feedback, and combining different perspectives always leads to stronger outcomes. Collaboration also teaches you how to communicate your ideas clearly and listen with intention, which are just as important as the design itself.

I began my journey in design with a Bachelor of Fine Arts in Interior Design, which gave me a strong foundation in spatial composition and material sensitivity. Wanting to push further into architecture’s broader social and environmental responsibilities, I pursued a Master of Architecture at the Southern California Institute of Architecture (SCI-Arc). My education there challenged conventional boundaries and encouraged a critical, experimental approach to design. That combination of interior sensibility and architectural thinking continues to shape how I work today, balancing human-scale experiences with systemic and contextual design strategies.

What motivates me to design is the possibility of creating something that resonates functionally, emotionally and ecologically. I became a designer because I’ve always been drawn to the way spaces and objects can shape how we live, feel and relate to the world around us. Design is not just about aesthetics or solving problems; it’s about asking the right questions, revealing connections and offering new perspectives. I’m especially driven by the potential of design to engage with environmental challenges and cultural narratives, and to contribute to more thoughtful and sustainable ways of living.

I chose to become a designer. It was a conscious decision rooted in curiosity and a desire to create. I was never forced into it; instead, I found myself naturally drawn to design as a way of thinking and making. It offered a space where imagination, logic and care for the world could come together. The more I learned, the more I realized how design could be a lifelong pursuit both expressive and purposeful.

I design across architecture, spatial installations, and object-based works which often explore the relationships between material, environment and human experience. I’m especially interested in designs that respond to ecological systems and social contexts, where form and function are rooted in deeper narratives. Moving forward, I’d love to design more public or community-centered projects that integrate infrastructure with culture, spaces that are not only sustainable but also invite reflection, engagement and a sense of belonging.

A good designer solves problems thoughtfully and creates functional, well-crafted work. A great designer goes further. They challenge assumptions, communicate ideas with clarity and depth, and design with a deep understanding of both people and the planet. Great designers have a distinct voice, but they also listen deeply to context, materials and users. They’re not just makers; they’re critical thinkers and responsible storytellers who shape lasting impact through their work.

A really good design is one that resonates on multiple levels. It not only performs its function well but also communicates a clear intention, evokes a response and endures over time. It feels effortless yet thoughtful. I evaluate good design by how well it responds to its context: culturally, environmentally, and humanly whether it offers something meaningful beyond utility. A strong design reveals itself gradually. The more you engage with it, the more you uncover layers of clarity, care and purpose.

If there’s a secret ingredient in my design process, it’s observation, really paying attention to the nuances of place, behavior and materials. I believe thoughtful design begins with quiet noticing. That, paired with persistence and a willingness to iterate, has been essential. I also try to stay curious and open to ideas outside of architecture - whether it’s from science, art or everyday life. Success, to me, comes from designing with intention while allowing room for surprise and discovery.

I’ve always been inspired by Herzog & de Meuron. Their work shows a deep sensitivity to material, place and atmosphere, while constantly evolving in form and expression. Their ability to balance abstraction with tactile richness is something I deeply admire. I also draw inspiration from a wide range of thinkers and makers—whether it’s the quiet intensity of Tadao Ando, or the experimental rigor found in emerging contemporary practices. For me, inspiration often comes from how designers question conventions and respond to context with clarity and nuance.

To improve as a designer, I believe it’s essential to stay curious and embrace a mindset of constant learning. This means not just refining technical skills, but also broadening one’s perspective by seeking inspiration from diverse fields such as art, science, culture and even nature. For me, it’s been about pushing myself to step out of my comfort zone and experiment, whether through new materials, digital tools or collaborating with people outside of architecture. I also found that feedback both from mentors and peers is invaluable, as it helps refine ideas and push them in unexpected directions. Ultimately, the key is to stay adaptable, challenge your assumptions and always remain open to growth both in designs and approach to life.

If I hadn’t become a designer, I would have likely pursued a career as a professional scuba diver. The idea of exploring the unknown whether through the depths of the ocean or within the built environment has always fascinated me. Scuba diving offers a unique way of engaging with the world, where every dive is an exploration of new, unseen ecosystems. That spirit of discovery and connection to nature is something I carry into my design work as well.

For me, design is a way of shaping experiences, environments and interactions. It’s the process of creating solutions that are both functional and meaningful, grounded in context and responsive to human needs. Design is not just about making things look aesthetically pleasing; it’s about understanding the deeper layers of a problem whether environmental, cultural or social, and crafting a response that resonates on multiple levels. It’s a way of telling a story through form, material and space, with the ultimate goal of improving the quality of life and fostering a more sustainable future.