In early July, developers signed a con-tract for construction of the Taipei International Financial Center. The building was originally planned to tower 508 meters high, which would make it the tallest skyscraper in the world. The builders might be forced to scale back their plans, however, as it has since been discovered that the planned structure may affect air safety.

The development of Kaohsiung's T&C Center was closely connected with the government's policy for turning Taiwan into a financial hub for the Asia-Pacific region, with the port city as a major transshipment center. Viewed from Chichin island, Kaohsiung is beginning to have some of the flavor of Hong Kong.

While the Taipei International Financial Center is experiencing some "air turbulence," everything has gone smoothly with the T&C Tower in Kaohsiung, which currently ranks as Taiwan's tallest building. The T&C Tower opened its doors in late July.

"A blossoming of wealth and fame"--Chinese imagery in the design of Kaohsiung's Grand 50 Tower. A "flowering" roof, "cloud" walls, and rising "bamboo-like" sections.

The designer of both these high-rises is the controversial architect C.Y. Lee. Lee agreed to an interview with Sinorama, but was not able to discuss the Taipei International Financial Center, for which the design work is still in its final stages. Sino-rama asked Lee about two other major skyscrapers that he has designed, and about the controversies that both generated, to find out about the experience that Lee brings to his work on the world's tallest building and about his views on architecture in general.

Sinorama: In the past you have designed the office buildings for a number of corporate headquarters, and you are now the architect for what will be the world's tallest building, the Taipei International Financial Center. Could you tell us about your experience working on the two skyscrapers in Kaohsiung, the Grand 50 Tower and the T&C Tower, and about the importance of these buildings for the environment in which they are set?

Lee: Taiwan's cities are now catching up with leading cities in the world such as New York, in terms of lifestyle and in terms of administrative and economic circumstances. In the history of architecture, the development of urban high-rises was inevitable given the growing concentration of populations within the cities, and the rising price of urban property.

In terms of human experience, whenever anyone arrives in a new place they first look for a landmark. Tall buildings can always be identified for this purpose, so they satisfy a psychological need. In addition, people living at the 50th story and above enjoy certain benefits-such as great views-that are worth pursuing.

Since tall buildings are inevitable, what an architect can do is structure them in terms of style and form. In other words, it's not up to us whether a building is tall or not, but the building's appearance is something that we do decide on. Skylines created by tall buildings determine the character of cities all around the world, and represent the local culture. In the past, visitors to Kaohsiung noticed the thick dust and little else, whereas now, with the Grand 50 Tower and the T&C Tower, they have distinct landmarks to pick out. So we have created an image for the city, something that isn't easily denied.

"A blossoming of wealth and fame"--Chinese imagery in the design of Kaohsiung's Grand 50 Tower. A "flowering" roof, "cloud" walls, and rising "bamboo-like" sections.

Climbing higher, step by step

Sinorama: The Grand 50 Tower was Taiwan's first "super-skyscraper." Could you talk a little about the initial planning concept for the project. At that time the tallest buildings in Taiwan were in the 30-plus stories range. You first raised the height of such buildings in Taiwan to 50 stories, and then, with the T&C Tower, to 85 stories. Could you talk a little about this process of "climbing higher"? What challenges were encountered during the course of planning and construction, and how were they overcome?

Lee: The successful completion of any building project depends on a number of different factors, not on one single element. The Grand 50 Tower began as an idea that we actively promoted to the owner from the economic angle, believing that a building of this height would be a more effective use of the available site. We also aimed to create an urban image for 1990s Taiwan and upgrade the technology in Taiwan's construction sector. With the Grand 50 Tower, the owner actually encouraged us to be bold. Without the owner's support in terms of funds and architectural conviction, it would have been impossible to develop such a skyscraper in Taiwan.

Compared with the Grand 50 Tower, the T&C Tower was a different kind of building. We were one of four firms to bid for the project, and we originally proposed a height of "200 meters plus x" for the building (meaning that the eventual number of stories would be decided later), as providing for the most effective use of the 3600-ping [three-acre] site. 200 meters in height means around 46 stories. Later the requirement was raised to 77, and then 85 stories. The ambition of the owner and of former Kaohsiung mayor Su Nan-cheng to build the "Number One Building in Asia" was a major motivating factor.

Competing in height involves a particular mentality, because the "quantitative" increase in size also spurs a "qualitative" development. In America the technology for building super-skyscrapers is not unusual, but nothing similar had been built before in Taiwan, so for project planning we collaborated with H.O.K. Architects, the largest firm of architects in the US, while on the structural side we had the involvement of the world-class team from the T.Y. Lin Consultant Engineering Corporation. International interaction of this type led to improvements in construction standards in Taiwan. For example, Chun Yuan Steel learned about what was necessary for construction of a super-skyscraper through working with us on one project. The same applied with cement quality. The cement for 8000-lb column composite had never been produced in Taiwan before, but it can be made here now thanks to its use in the T&C Tower.

The difficulty in making a super-skyscraper is not so much a question of the technology for the structure, the mechanics and so on, as it is a case of overall integration. Public safety is also an important consideration, and given that Taiwan is in an earthquake belt and prone to typhoons in the summer, we sink the piles down into the rock layer. For all relevant installations, from fire control to mechanical fittings, we refer to regulations abroad and always adopt high standards, because safety is something that you don't take short-cuts with.

"A blossoming of wealth and fame"--Chinese imagery in the design of Kaohsiung's Grand 50 Tower. A "flowering" roof, "cloud" walls, and rising "bamboo-like" sections.

But for an architect, the biggest challenge in creating a super-skyscraper is not just the construction technology, but also how to conceive of the building's appearance. Buildings that are over 50 stories high represent a kind of cultural display, a show that other architects around the world watch closely, waiting to see what special cultural features you may bring into play. So for an architect, it is a serious but fascinating challenge. A flower blossoms on the roof

Sinorama: The upper stories of both buildings open outwards, like a "flowering of wealth and fame," in a deliberately Chinese touch. What is your interpretation of this design? Was fengshui a consideration? Some commentators feel there is a kind of "new emperor" imagery at work, designed to flatter the corporate owners. What is your view?

Lee: Buildings are a sort of vessel for life, and are of course symbols of the culture. As an architect I only ask: What can I do for the cultural symbolism of our age? Any important building needs to have its own character, which partly comes from the architect and partly from the culture itself. The technology and materials for building super-skyscrapers can be obtained anywhere, but those that I design are, I hope, essentially Chinese.

Architecture today is very different from traditional Chinese architecture, and therefore through studying and absorbing culture we aim to convert the tradition, not transplant it. As regards height, Westerners have a certain reverence for buildings that penetrate the sky like a knife, as if to express their own "exaltedness" in solid form. Basically, the concept is one of "resistance." In our culture, "exaltedness" is conceived of as being like bamboo, something that gets higher joint by joint. It's a concept of growth, "climbing step by step," as we say. Ascending to a height enables you to see far into the distance. This is a more moderate conception of height, a way of fusing heaven and earth together. It is the idea of coordination, of growth, of wanting to link up with heaven. The "blossoming flower" design of the building top expresses this notion of "climbing step by step," and also conveys the idea of growth-borrowing the concept that is captured in the phrase: "A blossoming of wealth and fame," with its implication of expectation, of vigor, and of bringing people together.

"A blossoming of wealth and fame"--Chinese imagery in the design of Kaohsiung's Grand 50 Tower. A "flowering" roof, "cloud" walls, and rising "bamboo-like" sections.

In terms of structure, the apex of a building is its lightest part, and topping off a building with a flower-form is something that works visually. Look at all the species in the natural world: the best part is always at the top, like a flower, or the human head. We look at super-skyscrapers as if they too had a head and a body. The "blossoming flower" design has been used in very few of the world's highest skyscrapers, and is not likely to become commonplace. Creating the character of the city

As to fengshui, when we do Chinese architecture we make sure to avoid things that Chinese people don't like-pointy bits, sharp angles, menacing features that feel inauspicious. If it needs mentioning, the T&C Tower is shaped like a "•Y" character, with the lower portion open in the middle to reduce wind pressure and alleviate the sense of oppressiveness that very large buildings can create.

With the Grand 50 Tower, we used stone, whereas for the T&C Tower, economic considerations meant that we had to use glass curtain walls. The materials were different, but in both cases the idea was to convey Eastern imagery in a modern building. With Kaohsiung's Grand 50 Tower, Japanese architects were surprised by the sense of mountain-like solidity that resulted from the use of granite for the outer walls-a choice in which Chinese cultural characteristics are discernible. In terms of conception and quality, I prefer the Grand 50 Tower.

Some people have interpreted this design as symbolizing wealth and power, but my feeling is that the completion of any such project generates both positive and negative reactions. A building as big as this inevitably exhibits a certain economic clout. Above a certain size it conveys a kind of authority, and this is not something that I can prevent. But I would also like to point out that ultimately, a building as important as this doesn't necessarily belong to the individuals who own or design it, so much as to the city, to the people. Look at the Eiffel Tower-a symbol of Paris, not a symbol of Eiffel, the architect. Too many people emphasize the negative aspects of skyscrapers like those we built in Kaohsiung, ignoring the fact that such buildings are gradually changing the city's image, and acting as a catalyst.

"A blossoming of wealth and fame"--Chinese imagery in the design of Kaohsiung's Grand 50 Tower. A "flowering" roof, "cloud" walls, and rising "bamboo-like" sections.

A people needs its own aesthetic

Sinorama: The incorporation of cultural and historical elements into modern architecture is a challenge for architects everywhere. Ever since your return to Taiwan from the US in 1978, you have been committed to achieving a fusion between Chinese culture and architecture. This can be seen in the way that space is used in your early projects, like the Ta-an Public Housing Estate, with its "horseback" roof line, and the circular arcade of the Tung Wang Palace Estate, and also in the corporate headquarters that you designed for the Hung Kuo Group-huge, towering structures that all feature Chinese architectural elements. Could you tell us a little about your progression through these different styles?

Lee: You can tell whether or not a work of modern architecture "fuses" Eastern, or Chinese elements within it from just one look. It depends on whether the architect believes that such a fusion can be achieved, and whether or not he wants to try it.

When I was at university, then studying and later working abroad, it was always foreign architectural theory and design that I learned. Returning to Taiwan I was faced with the problem of how to match Western theory and design with my own culture. Some say that information skills are globalized these days and there is no need for architects to put up a struggle-that we should just go along with the mainstream. But I believe that aesthetic feeling is not something that can be "globalized." If you go with the mainstream you may lose your own identity. I still recall something I heard professor Mou Tzung-san say once: "A people must have its own aesthetics. If not, then it is doomed." I made a point of remembering that, and I hope through architecture to make full use of the aesthetics of our people."

The creative course that I have charted naturally began with my borrowing of elements from Chinese culture, as can be seen in the Ta-an Public Housing Estate and the Tung Wang Palace Estate. Then I progressed to borrowing its spirit: the use of light and shade, of space and of spiritual substance, as in the Hung Kuo Tower. And for the super-skyscrapers, what I borrowed was its imposing presence. My philosophy is: "Creating an environment through which to improve people's way of life." From the concrete to the abstract, in my point of view it is a learning stage, and success or failure is for history to judge.

Office towers have taken over the urban skyline. Built with new materials and using new construction techniques--such as those for glass curtain walls--they are symbols of modern technology.

All being equal

Sinorama: Viewed from the perspective of culture, there are those who feel that there is no scope within Chinese architecture for buildings on this sort of scale. Isn't it then difficult to give an interpretation of super-skyscrapers in terms of Eastern, or Chinese concepts? Like the Chungtai Chan Buddhist Temple you designed, also on a large scale, which some people feel runs counter to the Chan principle of "not establishing a text." What is your view?

Lee: I can respond in Buddhist terms: "Among the teachings, none is paramount; all teachings are on a par." Look at history, it is something that people themselves create. What we want to protect is a kind of spirit. You can't restrict the "soul" of Chinese architecture, saying that Chinese houses used to be made with wooden frames and weren't so tall or large, and therefore that China has no aesthetic for tall, large buildings. Society is evolving, and the question is how do we develop this architectural aesthetic? I believe that compared with the scale of the universe, with the mountains and oceans, size is not an issue in buildings.

On the subject of Chungtai Temple there is even more to be said. The buildings for this temple were developed according to requirements and functions. A place where so many people come for retreats and to study Buddhism needs to provide a lot of space. The Chan philosophy is "Don't establish a text, and nothing will be obstructed." Given this principle of "non-obstruction," you can't say that a small building does not "obstruct" but a big building does. We made a large building because it was needed. If people want to make a fuss about its size, what's so Chan-Buddhist about that?

Sinorama: Some people, concerned about the view of the cityscape, criticize the way that Taiwan's super-skyscrapers stand out so far above their surroundings, with no effort to fit in with their surroundings. They refer to the example of the internationally renowned architect I.M. Pei, who was opposed to the building of a super-skyscraper in Beijing, and believe that architects must take responsibility for the urban landscape. What is your opinion? (Note: In the late 1970s I.M. Pei was invited to plan a super-skyscraper for a site within Beijing. Pei turned down the offer, saying that "the appearance of the ancient capital should be preserved.")

Lee: Every city develops under different circumstances and along different lines. I don't know about Mr Pei's story, but in the case of Beijing, the city has developed with the Forbidden City at its center, so in terms of matching the urban landscape, that would of course clash.

With its T&C Tower, Kaohsiung seems to be taking on a new aura.

We have all undergone rigorous professional training, and of course we know that buildings need to fit in with the urban landscape. In addition to being accepted by the owners, the designs for our super-skyscrapers were all approved by the relevant urban authorities, with very close attention given to questions about their height, and whether or not they would fit in with the surrounding environment. In New York for example, whatever you build is going to be tall, and no-one thinks there's anything strange about that. But in Kaohsiung, the first building to reach such a height does of course stand out far above its surroundings. But this is a transitional phase. I think that the presence of a building like the T&C Tower encourages other projects to rise in height. With the Grand 50 Tower, the surrounding area wasn't developed at the same time, which is a little regrettable. Let me emphasize again, when you lead the race you're never in line with others, but that doesn't mean that you shouldn't race at all! Between commercialism and art

Sinorama: When the Iraqi architect Zaha Hadid came to Taiwan she pointed out that Taiwanese architecture is geared to the requirements of the owners and is "too commercialized." She criticized the fact that "in the area around the Taipei World Trade Center all the buildings are high-rises, like islands unto themselves but having little connection with their users." Do you agree?

Lee: Given the circumstances of the environment and the land, regardless of whether or not Zaha agrees, what you end up with are the high-rise buildings that she talks of. In the Japanese era, only officials and a handful of wealthy citizens were able to build decent houses to live in, but now more people have the clout to build offices and residences. Economic strength and business activity have been the motivating factors for a lot of construction in Taiwan during the past 20 years, and viewed from the perspective of fine culture, some office blocks are inelegantly designed, because the fundamental consideration in the development of an office block is its cost-effectiveness, and it is commercialized by definition. But commercial buildings now predominate in terms of "quantity." Our ambition is to go with the trend and accept this as fact, but improve the quality. We hope to turn commercial buildings from commodities into culture, which is to say that as long as people are willing to work hard, commodities can become art works. What is lacking in the case of most commercial buildings is that extra input of work.

Taiwan, and indeed the whole world, is confronting the problems of "growth." I think there are two kinds of people: those who are opposed to growth and those who favor growth. People opposed to growth think that it is wrong to build tall and large. They are against all man-made spaces and against materialization, and think that everyone should go back to nature in the villages and countryside. But growth is still the overriding trend, and everyone is encouraged to produce, to consume, to build, and in this way to generate new opportunities. Putting aside the question of which is right and which is wrong, it is impossible for us as architects to oppose growth unless we stop being architects and stop making houses. The two approaches are not necessarily mutually exclusive. For example, it would probably be absurd to put up a tower-block in a country village, but there are prices to be paid in order for there to be growth.

A food culture, but no home culture

Sinorama: How has the architectural environment in Taiwan changed since you came back 20 years ago? What kind of role has been played by architects like yourself who returned here from the West?

Lee: Twenty years ago in Taiwan people were not as concerned as they are today about architectural appearances. Of course, the architectural quality of individual buildings has risen, but regrettably, architects have not been able to do much to improve the appearance of Taiwan's cities.

Twenty years ago when an owner wanted a new building made, "quantity" was the chief concern-how many square feet and how much it would cost. At that time, quantity equaled value. When we came back to Taiwan we gradually encouraged the idea that "quality too can equal value." As with the Asiaworld Plaza Building, when the owner agreed that the balconies didn't necessarily have to be totally covered, and different parts of the building could have different heights.

Some owners said that they didn't want their buildings to be like uniform industrial products, without any distinguishing features. So we started to dress the buildings up a bit. We spent a great deal of time getting people to understand that a building is not just a necessity, but is also a product with culture and dignity. But to this day, we feel that Chinese people's attitudes about the quality of space still need improving.

On example is the way that outside the doors of 70-80% of modern apartments, residents use what was intended as public space to stack their shoes. People say that this is because there is too little space inside the apartments themselves, but apartments are even smaller in Japan and they don't seem to have mounds of shoes outside their doors. I think that this is the "practical" mentality of the Chinese at work, or the attitudes of an agricultural society-use whatever is available-and people just don't think about how to arrange their environment. Another example: there are restaurants in the West in which great attention has been given to the space and atmosphere, and where prices are higher than in those restaurants where decor is less of a factor. But for Chinese people, when we hear how much the food costs we simply go somewhere else. In hotels, when Chinese people are told it costs an extra $50 for a room with a sea-view, the reaction is: Who needs it? A hotel's for sleeping in, right? So they pick a cheaper room. We still don't accept the idea that things like environment and service amount to value, and we still expect "an object for an object." These are the root causes of the problems that we still face in terms of our chaotic urban landscape and low-quality buildings.