Architecture of each nation evolves and develops along a historical trajectory. Particularly, royal architecture establishes solid foundations refined over time, becoming the formal language through which art thrives. Each dynasty selects its own stylistic language as a benchmark for evaluation and a marker of its era.
The selective inheritance across dynasties shapes the orthodox architectural tradition. This tradition adheres to strict principles of form-making, setting standards that serve as measures of artistic creativity. However, the end of each dynasty invariably signifies adaptations to external influences. Ultimately, the flow of architecture is once again reshaped and renewed, continuing its progression.

Emperor Khai Dinh utilized to infuse a sense of national identity into the architectural and artistic works of the royal court. These projects, executed during the late Nguyen dynasty, reflect a deliberate effort to adapt proactively to the changing circumstances.

Nearly a century later, the art of ceramic mosaic from the Khai Dinh era continues to flourish in temples, pagodas, shrines, and tombs.

To read the full research article below.

Project:
U Minh Thuong National Forest Ecological Experience Area
Location:
U Minh Thuong district, Kien Giang province
Area:
19,819 hectares
Services:
Urban planning, Architecture, Interior
Status:
Approved the detailed planning project at scale 1/500, 2019
Approved the project investment for the construction, 2020
Under construction
Team:
HVV architect and partners – CREA

Characteristics
This is the former Provincial Party Committee Headquarter during the anti-American war, aimed at educating younger generations about revolutionary traditions and honoring the ecological and aesthetic values of U Minh Thuong National Forest in Kien Giang Province.

Design Principles

1. Respect the existing landscape characteristics while creating diverse spatial arrangements to accommodate the various functions of the overall project.
2. Inherit the cultural heritage values of Southern Vietnam through the development of a resort area that harmonizes local cultural elements with the natural landscape.
3. Ensure vibrancy throughout the overall spatial design, maintaining solemnity in the central area while providing privacy and seclusion for functional areas such as eco-experience resorts, recreational areas, and spaces for outdoor activities reflecting Southern Vietnamese lifestyles.
4. Protect the environmental landscape by preserving the existing ecological scenery, employing on-site earthworks, and utilizing local materials.

Maison de la Lune embodies a poetic interplay between architecture and nature, where the invisible space reflects upon the surface of existence. The fluid curves of the structure mirror the organic forms of the surrounding environment, creating a harmonious dialogue between the built and the natural. The expansive glass panels invite the outside in, blurring the boundaries between interior and exterior. Light and shadow dance across the surfaces, evoking a sense of tranquility and introspection. This architectural masterpiece is a serene sanctuary, a place where the essence of nature is captured and reflected, offering a contemplative retreat from the chaos of the world.

An elegant white tone as the main theme, featuring multi-layered spaces with depth and subtle connections. The space is shaped with soft curves inspired by abstract nature creating a sense of fluidity and natural flow in the architecture. The decorative surfaces of loose furniture are finished with high-quality Vietnamese lacquer techniques. Natural light blends harmoniously with artificial lighting, interacting with materials like glass, lacquer, premium fabrics, and marble, evoking emotional contrasts between light, material, and space. The overall design exudes a contemporary artistic elegence.

Spiritual Sustainability as the Core Essence

For Architect Hồ Viết Vinh, a sustainable structure must encompass multiple dimensions: structural sustainability, environmental sustainability, aesthetic sustainability, and cultural sustainability. Yet, there is one essential, foundational element that underpins them all: spiritual sustainability. One of his upcoming and most cherished projects currently in development is the Trịnh Công Sơn Park in the ancient capital of Huế.

Guided by a philosophy of holistic sustainability, Hồ Viết Vinh has crafted unique architectural works such as Lebadang Memory Space and more recently, the Coral House in Hồ Tràm.

Could you share more about the milestones that have shaped your 25-year career?
I can summarize my more than 25 years of navigating this profession—full of challenges—into four stages: searching, understanding, contemplation, and practice.
The first stage took me around five years. I was seeking a way to survive in this field, with much effort but little clarity beyond earning a living.
The second stage arrived when I realized that architecture demands not only physical effort but also profound intellectual engagement.
The third stage was contemplation—reflecting on the distinct values that drive creativity. This was perhaps the most challenging period. It required me to relinquish things I had painstakingly gathered over time, clearing my mind to make space for the new.
Finally, the fourth stage is practice—not merely following thought processes, but letting intuition and wisdom guide my actions.

Your design philosophy seems inspired by Buddhist thought, correct?
Yes, indeed! The teacher who profoundly influenced my design philosophy is Thích Nhất Hạnh from Làng Mai (Plum Village), with his wisdom of interbeing (tương tức). According to Thích Nhất Hạnh, interbeing means: “If we understand that humans and nature are inseparable, we will know how to treat nature as we would treat ourselves—with care, gentleness, and love, free from violence. If we don’t want to harm ourselves, we should not harm nature, for harming nature is ultimately harming ourselves, and vice versa.”

How do you incorporate the concept of emptiness in your architectural works?
In essence, space is defined by emptiness. Without emptiness, there is no space. We must distinguish between the concepts of empty/full and open/closed. The former refers to spatial density, while the latter concerns the degree of openness to the external environment.
Emptiness is where dialogues unfold—between humans and nature, between individuals, and between oneself and the spiritual realm. It is a void that leads to infinite transformation and change.

What is your perspective on sustainable architecture? What, in your view, is the primary factor that defines sustainability?
When discussing sustainability, we must ask: sustainable in what sense? Is it structural, environmental, aesthetic, or cultural sustainability? Today, most conversations focus on environmental sustainability, as we face the brink of ecological destruction.
In my perspective, a truly sustainable structure must integrate all four aspects, with an additional core foundation: spiritual sustainability. This form of sustainability is rooted in an intuitive understanding of the fundamental truth of life on Earth—harmony, where all beings support one another to coexist.

“Architecture is a part of nature, and thus, it must harmonize with its surroundings. Light, wind, rain, storms, and even insects are all guests of the space.”

Is there a project that best embodies your design philosophy?
That would be the Lebadang Memory Space in Huế. This space is a harmonious blend of three elements: nature, form, and poetry. Nature includes the creations of the Earth—trees, flowers, rivers, skies, stones, humans, and animals. Form is defined by lines, shapes, colors, and materials that shape the space. Poetry is the soul that breathes life into it, creating a space that resonates with both the physical and the spiritual.

The thread that connects natural elements with the crafted form is poetry—a melody that flows from the primordial, carrying with it layers of cultural sediment, merging with the rhythm of life to shape the memory of time.

An Architect who has influenced you?
That would be Peter Zumthor, the renowned Swiss architect known for his famous quote:
“To design buildings that captivate the senses, architects must transcend the limits of form and structure.”

What experience do you consider most important for an architect like yourself?
Architecture came to me as destiny. Therefore, every experience carries its own value—there is no good or bad experience.
However, one pivotal experience stands out as a turning point in my creative journey. In 2005, I had the opportunity to participate in the 8th International Creative Competition organized by Les Ateliers Internationaux de Maitrise d’Oeuvre Urbaine Cergy Pontoise in France.
The competition brought together nearly 40 architects, urban planners, economists, managers, and environmental specialists from 17 countries. The theme was Ecological Tourism Urbanism in Cần Giờ (Can Gio entre ville ecologique et destination touristique).
Our project, titled “The City of Distinct Emotions” made a powerful impression on the jury and won the Special Award.

What is your perspective on materials in architecture? Are you experimenting with any specific materials?
Materials play a vital role in evoking aesthetic emotions within architectural spaces, alongside form and design language. Under the influence of light, these three elements harmonize to create the texture of space.
In my architectural designs, I place particular emphasis on exploring and incorporating local materials. These materials infuse spaces with the spirit of the place, giving them a unique identity and soul.

Could you share more about an upcoming project you are excited about?
A project I hold dear and that is currently being developed in Huế is the Trịnh Công Sơn Park.
Located at the confluence of three rivers, it rests against the Gia Hội Ancient Quarter, gazes upon the Hương River, and looks towards Ngự Bình Mountain as its front shield, with the Kim Phụng Range stretching across the landscape. This harmonious geographical setting provides the perfect foundation for the park in the heart of the ancient capital.
The park spans approximately 6.2 hectares and stretches nearly 1 kilometer along the lower reaches of Hương River, surrounded by water landscapes. Its structure is divided into two main sections: (1) The Space of “The Great Circle of Unity“ (20,000 m²); (2) The Musical Garden Space (42,000 m²).
The Great Circle of Unity is designed around the symbol of the Vietnamese Embrace, forming a double-layered circle representing the Fields of Vietnam. This concept draws inspiration from Trịnh Công Sơn’s musical longing for peace.
At its heart stands the statue of Trịnh Công Sơn, with a poised and serene posture, emerging from the landscape like a mountain standing tall. He becomes a symbol of the nation’s desire for unity, love for humanity, and a reflection on the human condition.
Every step into this space echoes with the uplifting and refreshing melodies of his music. It invites us to connect, hand in hand, forming a unified entity called Vietnam.
The Musical Garden Space, on the other hand, captures the lingering melodies of nature. Here, one can sense the gentle whispers of grass, flowers, birds, and the vibrant life that surrounds us—a symphony of nature’s tender serenade.

See the original article at the link.

Điều này có nghĩa rằng nếu bạn chưa đủ thời gian để nghĩ suy thật sâu, thật tường tận vấn đề thì lời nói sẽ hời hợt, nông cạn và thiếu sức thuyết phục. Trong ngạn ngữ Việt cũng có câu: “uốn lưỡi bảy lần trước khi nói” là vậy! Cuộc sống gấp gáp, nhịp đập cuồng quay tác động làm cho ta cũng đảo điên theo sự trôi lăn.
Vậy im lặng là ngồi im mặc cho cuộc đời kéo trôi hay sao?
Không hề!
Diễn dịch theo ngôn ngữ đạo là “im lặng hùng tráng”, tịnh khẩu để thân tâm tập trung khai mở năng lượng tuệ, chiếu kiến để thấu đạt vấn đề. Sau khi quán được bản chất sự vật, hiện tượng ta sẽ dễ dàng hiểu và minh giải được căn nguyên của nó. Từ đó ngôn từ của ta sẽ chuyên chở được đầy đủ thể, tướng và dụng để lời nói trở nên có phẩm chất. Ông bà ta thường chê những lời nói “sáo rỗng” nghĩa là không có phẩm chất, chỉ là đùa vui vậy thôi.
Để im lặng đạt đến sự hùng tráng mà không phải câm lặng là cả một quá trình tu thân và hiểu đạo. Người tu thân phải buông bỏ được tà kiến để thấy được tánh không của vạn pháp mà ngay cả thân và tâm ta cũng do duyên hợp nên bản tánh là không, giả danh và hư dối.
Thấy được như vậy thì ta sẽ hoà làm một với vấn đề mà ta muốn biết nên ta sẽ hiểu nó như nó đã là. Khi đó ta sẽ thông đạt thực tướng để nói những điều nên nói và những điều nên im lặng.

Hồ Viết Vinh.15012026

Rêu không phải là cỏ cây, cũng không hoàn toàn là rong rêu trôi dạt theo dòng nước. Nó là một thực thể kỳ lạ, vừa nguyên sơ, vừa vĩnh cửu. Rêu không có rễ, nhưng lại bám chặt vào đá. Không có thân cành, nhưng lan rộng như một tấm thảm. Không có tiếng nói, nhưng lại kể những câu chuyện cổ xưa hơn bất cứ cuốn sách nào từng được viết ra.
Thế giới của Rêu là một vùng giao thoa giữa cái hữu hình và cái vô hình. Nếu nhìn từ xa, Rêu chỉ là một lớp xanh nhạt, một mảng màu lặng lẽ trên nền đá xám. Nhưng nếu cúi xuống thật gần, ta sẽ thấy một hệ sinh thái thu nhỏ, nơi những sợi tơ mềm mại vươn lên, đón lấy ánh sáng đầu ngày. Rêu không chỉ sống trong không gian – nó còn bám vào ký ức, len lỏi vào những vết nứt của thời gian.
Tôi gọi Rêu mang một diễn trình với tên gọi “biên niên sử”: một cuốn sách không cần giấy mực, nhưng lưu giữ được những gì đã qua. Một hạt rêu nhỏ bé có thể mang theo nó câu chuyện của hàng trăm năm. Nó lớn lên trên bề mặt những công trình cổ, trên đá núi, trên mái ngói, trên những phiến đường rêu phong của một thành phố cũ. Nó ghi lại dấu vết của từng cơn mưa, từng đợt nắng, từng trận gió mùa.
Và như thế, Rêu bước vào cuộc đời tôi như một chứng nhân lặng lẽ nhưng không thể nào lơ đãng. Cùng với Thời gian, Rêu tồn tại trong một vũ điệu chậm rãi, không màng đến sự hối hả của thế gian. Tôi trở thành người chứng kiến: không, đúng hơn là kẻ lang thang giữa những lớp ký ức thời gian mà Rêu lưu giữ, cố gắng hiểu những gì mà nó muốn nói.
Nhưng liệu Biên niên sử Rêu có thực sự là một câu chuyện thú vị? Hay chỉ là tôi đang cố gắng tìm kiếm ý nghĩa trong một thứ vốn dĩ vô ngôn?

Kiến trúc sư Hồ Viết Vinh, Huế 2025