Remaking Beijing
Shirley Surya and Li Hua interview Ma Guoxin about state-sponsored architecture institutes
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Ma Guoxin oral history, from Wang Tuo, Intensity in Ten Cities (2025), co-commissioned by the CCA and M+, Hong Kong for How Modern: Biographies of Architecture in China 1949-1979. © Wang Tuo
- Shirley Surya and Li Hua
- You graduated from Tsinghua University in 1965. How did you end up at BIAD [Beijing Institute of Architecture Design]?
- Ma Guoxin
- Originally, I wasn’t even supposed to go to BIAD. I was working in Sichuan on Third Front construction projects. Back then, there was a fear of war, so important institutions and government departments were relocated to Sichuan, which was a historically difficult site to invade. We had to build a branch campus from scratch there, from surveying the site to building basic infrastructure and connecting electricity. But later, when it became clear there wasn’t going to be a war, those departments moved back, and the buildings were handed to Sichuan. When I returned, I was supposed to start a job at Beijing University of Technology, but they had picked one of the earlier graduates in my place because of timing. I ended up at BIAD instead. It was one of those chance things.
- SS & LH
- You didn’t have any choice about your placement after graduation?
- MG
- No, absolutely not. After so many years in university, we just accepted whatever had been arranged for us. The other eighty to ninety graduates at Tsinghua moved to institutions dealing with atomic bomb research, aviation, electronics, armaments, shipbuilding, missiles—highly confidential construction engineering departments. Others went to work for the military, the ministry of railways, or the central government. Very few of us were assigned to provincial or municipal departments.
- SS & LH
- How did you feel when you learned you were going to BIAD?
- MG
- At the time, people didn’t think BIAD was such a great place. The more desirable placements were with the various central ministries — those were considered important. But after some time, opinions changed. BIAD was a local-level institute, which made it very stable. Over the years, due to numerous political campaigns, people were reassigned and relocated to other job placements, and entire institutions were uprooted and transferred. But BIAD stayed in Beijing the whole time. Second, our institute was different from the industrial design institute. Their leadership—people like Lin Leyi, Gong Deshun, Dai Nianci—were all graduates of formal universities, as was the design staff. Of course, we had some senior masters at our institute,but it was initially formed by piecing together various construction companies and small design offices. Since we didn’t have many technical professionals to begin with, we had to train our own. We trained what we called the “108 warriors” in basic design knowledge. They quickly became skilled, drafting very fast and very well.
Ma Guoxin, Study sketch for the Chairman Mao Memorial Hall, Beijing, ca. 1976. © Ma Guoxin
Ma Guoxin, Study sketch for the Chairman Mao Memorial Hall, Beijing, ca. 1976. © Ma Guoxin
- SS & LH
- You were a witness to that era of collective design. How was the design team organized at the BIAD?
- MG
- BIAD had a basic division of labour. There were six studios with specific areas of focus: public buildings like hotels and office buildings, industrial projects, sports and recreational facilities, confidential projects, medical facilities and performance venues.
There was also a standards studio in charge of developing design templates, which we called standard drawings. For example, in Beijing, there were standard designs for secondary schools, elementary schools, kindergartens, and housing. Once the designs were finalized and approved, everyone had to follow them. This allowed the state to control the size and cost of construction as much as possible. Only the foundation required local adjustment, as it depended on the site. But otherwise, you just bought a set of drawings, and they solved any problem. Because we worked in a planned economy, these standard drawings were quite profitable. - SS & LH
- How did individual expression and collaboration operate together in your work?
- MG
- My summary of the design process is that it’s a collective creative process that still reflects individual style.
You need a lot of people to design a project. One person can’t do everything unless it’s small. You must draw from the intelligence and insight of many others. In our studio, a project would go through several rounds of review. First, it was discussed within the group, then within the studio, and finally at the institute-wide level for large projects. People gave feedback at every stage. You revised repeatedly before reaching the final version.
In the early days, each studio had a chief architect. Each oversaw a specific studio, with projects closely tied to the chief architect, who had the authority to finalize the scheme. Those chief architect positions were eliminated after the Cultural Revolution. The chief architects were all reassigned to the Urban Planning Bureau, and each studio became more autonomous. Decisions were made by that studio’s senior engineers or department heads. For major projects, the institute had a technical committee of highly respected experts. The most important ones could even be submitted to the municipal level for discussion. So, the review structure depended on the scale and importance of the project.
Competition submission for the Monument to the People’s Heroes, Beijing, ca. 1952. Watercolour on paper. P-296H, Chang Tsong Zung Johnson
Joint Consultant Architects and Engineers, Competition submission for the Monument to the People’s Heroes, Beijing, ca. 1952. Watercolour on paper. P-297H, Chang Tsong Zung Johnson
Design Department, Beijing Architectural College, Competition submission for the Monument to the People’s Heroes, Beijing, 1953. Watercolour on paper. P-307H, Chang Tsong Zung Johnson
Design Department, Beijing Architectural College, Competition submission for the Monument to the People’s Heroes, Beijing, ca. 1952. Watercolour on paper. P-293H, Chang Tsong Zung Johnson
Design Department, Beijing Architectural College, Competition submission for the Monument to the People’s Heroes, Beijing, 1954. Watercolour on paper. TZ-1411, Chang Tsong Zung Johnson
Design Department, Beijing Architectural College, Competition submission for the Monument to the People’s Heroes, Beijing, ca. 1952. Watercolour on paper. TZ-1408, Chang Tsong Zung Johnson
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- SS & LH
- One of the earlier examples of a collective design project is the Monument to the People’s Heroes, built from 1952 to 1958. A later one is the Mao Zedong Memorial Hall. Could you tell us more about the design competitions for these projects?
- MG
- For major Chinese national projects, no single design institute could do it all on its own. The idea was always to tap into the talents of architects from all over. Take the Great Hall of the People, for example, or the planning of Tiananmen Square. Designers across the country were invited to contribute proposals in the early stages of a project’s development. With the Great Hall of the People, each design institute came up with its proposal. Then the ideas would be reviewed, narrowed down, refined, and eventually consolidated into a final scheme. You could put forward all sorts of concepts—some went with more classical styles, some Western, some Chinese, some blends of both. Many ideas were tested, but they ultimately had to be synthesized. All large-scale national projects followed the same process. No institution dared undertake one of these projects alone, as it would be difficult to justify if the outcome displeased the public. If you instead say that a project represents the collective wisdom of the whole nation, who’s going to argue with that?
- SS & LH
- Would you say the Chairman Mao Memorial Hall was a final example of that nationwide, collective organizational model?
- MG
- Yes, because right after was the Reform and Opening-Up period, so the whole design system started changing. Because of the planned economy, the decision had been made early on that BIAD would continue with the project after Chairman Mao passed. We had the right timing, the correct location, and the right people who knew the situation on the ground—we’d been there for years. But at the same time, the leadership emphasized that this project should reflect the collective wisdom of the whole country. And that wisdom showed up in a few ways: first, in choosing the site, and second, in exploring different design directions; all kinds of ideas were explored: ancient and modern, Chinese and Western.
I joined the project the day after Chairman Mao passed away. The project hadn’t formally begun yet, but we were already doing tests and preliminary studies at BIAD. We started by exploring suitable sites for the Monument—places like Xiangshan, Jingshan, the Forbidden City, Tiananmen, and Yuquan Mountain.
A lot of work went into selecting a location and figuring out the proper architectural form because the Monument had to be completed in a year. And each person brought their priorities and perspectives to the process. The higher-ups, for instance, wanted something grand, solemn, and dignified. But the municipal construction authority—like the Beijing Urban Construction Commission—was focused on how to build it as quickly and efficiently as possible. Zhao Pengfei was the head of the Construction Commission at the time. He was particularly in favour of putting the memorial in the space between Tiananmen and the Forbidden City. He said, “That spot doesn’t require demolition, no need to reroute utility lines. We can start construction immediately.” But if you placed it right on Tiananmen, then you had to tear down a whole bunch of residential homes—many private homes—and deal with pipelines, underground infrastructure, messy issues. Sites were eliminated one by one as we realized they weren’t suitable; some were too cramped, and others were too far. In the end, the final decision was to place it on Tiananmen because a memorial to Chairman Mao belonged right there, among the people.
Competition submissions for Chairman Mao Memorial Hall, Beijing, 1976–1977, in “The Development Process of the Architectural Schemes for Chairman Mao Memorial Hall,” Jianzhu Xuebao 4 (1977): 35. CL.2025.1.128, M+, Hong Kong. © Jianzhu Xuebao
- SS & LH
- When you look back on the design process for the Chairman Mao Memorial Hall, which part stands out to you as particularly special?
- MG
- This was a highly political project, right? So, our main task at the time was to ensure the exterior met everyone’s approval—something that everyone could agree was appropriate. And second, it had to be extremely solid and safe. This was around the time of the Tangshan earthquake, so seismic resistance was a big deal. We had to meet all these demands, and on top of that, the project had to be completed within a very short timeline. That urgency was critical.
It was located in Beijing, right on Tiananmen Square—of course it had to look Chinese. It had to be something familiar, something that gave people a sense of closeness, recognition. People would have questioned something weird or out of place. At the same time, it couldn’t be identical to what was already there. That would’ve been too old-fashioned. It still had to represent some formal development beyond what had come before. So, that’s the balance we were trying to strike—respecting the past while also moving things forward a bit. How far forward? That was part of the challenge.
Initially, the idea of building on the central axis of Tiananmen Square wasn’t something we were especially conscious of, but now it’s part of Beijing’s application for World Heritage status. That axis is hugely significant: it’s a thread that’s run through the city’s layout for over seven hundred years. Since the founding of the People’s Republic, only two major buildings had been built on that axis: the Monument to the People’s Heroes and the Chairman Mao Memorial Hall. Both also use this double-eaved design, whereas the buildings on either side of the axis—the Great Hall, the Museum of Revolutionary History—are single-eaved. So if you look down that central axis to Tiananmen, Qianmen, the Forbidden City, all those buildings have double eaves.
Chinese tradition is very structured. There’s always a sense of hierarchy—what’s important, what’s secondary, what should stand out, what should stay subtle. That whole way of thinking has formed over thousands of years. The key is how you handle it skillfully. So these ideas, these habits aren’t random. They form gradually, shaped by the environment people live in. Over time, they become an integral part of how people think. The Chairman Mao Memorial Hall project was a collective effort, with people from all kinds of professions and areas of expertise working together. That’s why people often talk about how “collective” it was. And honestly, a major project like this would’ve had to be done the same way elsewhere.
