Dwelling in Time: Millie Yang on architecture, memory and cultural continuity

Los Angeles-based architectural designer Jianing (Millie) Yang approaches architecture through lived experience and cultural continuity. Her work explores how buildings influence daily life by shaping memory, movement, and social interaction. Recent projects, such as Dwelling in Time — an adaptive reuse proposal in Italy utilizing AI — and Endless Library, a speculative civic project, investigate how space mediates time, learning, and collective life. Yang views design as a cultural medium that fosters continuity, care, and public belonging. She is also committed to architectural education and mentorship in Southern California, supporting students from diverse backgrounds through community programs.

In this interview, Millie opens up about the lived experience of space, the meaning architecture gathers through use, and the quiet ways design can nurture community and belonging.

Tell us about the beginning of your career. What first inspired you to pursue architecture, and what continues to inspire your work today?

Since I grew up in an architectural family, space was always part of my daily life, not just an idea. At SCI-Arc, I learned to question if architecture always needs to be built, seeing it as a way to imagine space. But through work and more study, I returned to my early belief that architecture should be built and serve people. Working in different cultures showed me how architecture meets human needs and shapes memory, emotion, and experience over time.

At what point did you begin to see architecture as something that shapes how people live, work, and connect beyond the building itself?

This change happened during my first professional experience at Lehrer Architects, working under Michael Lehrer, during the COVID period. Designing affordable housing and shelters in Los Angeles made me see the real social impact of architecture. In a time of crisis, architecture became a way to give people dignity and stability by offering shelter and a way back to normal life. Seeing how space affects movement, interaction, and care taught me that architecture always shapes relationships and comes with social responsibility.

What was the starting point for Dwelling in Time, and how did you move from inspiration to realization over the course of the project?

Dwelling in Time began with abandoned Venetian villas viewed not as ruins, but as layered records of time. Instead of restoring just one moment from the past, the project aimed to keep their complex layers of time. Using site research, archives, and exploring materials with help from AI as a creative tool, the design found a balance between holding back and making changes. This let the villa stay open and adaptable.

Rather than treating the villa as a static artifact, Dwelling in Time invites visitors to move through it as a living landscape. When you were shaping the circulation, what were you most trying to protect from the site’s original memory, and what were you hoping to newly reveal?

I wanted to protect the villa’s sense of accumulated time — its weathering, imperfections, and spatial ambiguities, which carry emotional and historical weight. At the same time, I aimed to reveal new relationships between interior spaces and the surrounding landscape. Through carefully choreographed circulation, visitors are invited into a slower rhythm—one that encourages engagement with nature, local produce, and layered cultural histories, offering a peaceful retreat from the pace of everyday life.

Congratulations on Dwelling in Time being awarded Gold at both the BETTER FUTURE — New York Design Awards 2025 and the BETTER FUTURE — European Design Awards 2026. What did this international recognition mean to you, particularly in relation to the global conversation around sustainable heritage and adaptive reuse?

It was deeply affirming. The recognition showed that Dwelling in Time speaks to people in many cultures and is part of a bigger global conversation about sustainable heritage and adaptive reuse. It meant a lot to see the project judged in different places, all sharing a concern for time, memory, and caring for old buildings. The awards also started new talks about using AI tools like Midjourney — not to replace design thinking, but to help imagine new futures for historic places. After the awards, I was invited to give lectures about the project and how new technology is changing how we work with heritage buildings. I was grateful to see a topic I deeply care about spark thoughtful dialogue internationally.

With Endless Library, you reimagined the library as an open, interconnected public resource. What kind of future civic life were you hoping to explore through this speculative project?

Endless Library looks at how architecture can be open and flexible, not just a fixed place for knowledge. The project imagines civic life as collective, fluid, and continuously evolving, where learning is shaped through movement, encounter, and spatial overlap. Formally, I employed exaggerated massing and experimental materials such as fiber-reinforced plastic (FRP) to test how emerging construction logics might redefine the monumentality, permeability, and adaptability of future public architecture.

You’re actively involved in architectural education and community mentorship through SoCal NOMA and the nationally recognized ACE Mentor Program of America, which plays a critical role in shaping the next generation of architects and engineers. When working with students from diverse backgrounds, what perspectives or qualities have most inspired you?

My motivation is really about giving back and helping shape the next generation of architects and designers. What inspires me most is how open and curious students are. They often design without set ideas about form, size, or who creates what, which leads to new and thoughtful ideas. Much of their thinking comes from their own experiences, not just from past examples. Mentoring has shown me that architecture is at its best when we support different voices early, making the field more creative and connected to the world.

Your work spans healthcare architecture and complex projects where you collaborate closely with design teams, clients, and consultants from concept through construction. What led you to healthcare architecture, and how has working across these disciplines shaped your experience as a female architectural designer? What opportunities and challenges have stood out along the way?

I chose healthcare architecture because it makes the social responsibility of design very clear. Every choice affects people when they are most vulnerable. Working with teams from start to finish has taught me a lot and shaped who I am. As a female designer, I sometimes have to speak up, especially in technical or new situations. These challenges have made me more confident and careful, and have shown me how important teamwork, trust, and consistency are in creating good architecture.

Do you see design as a powerful medium for cultural dialogue?

Absolutely. Design can connect different cultures, histories, and fields. Architecture shows which stories are valued and which are missed. The places where we live and work shape how we see the world. As designers, we need to understand how space affects people and create places that welcome everyone, encourage conversation, and support real cultural exchange.

Looking ahead, what kinds of projects or conversations do you hope your work will contribute to in the next stage of your career?

Looking ahead, I hope to continue engaging with design tool innovation while creating architecture that serves broader communities. I’m interested in how emerging technologies, including AI, can expand architectural thinking without losing its human grounding. I hope my work contributes to conversations around social responsibility, particularly in adaptive reuse, affordable housing, and healthcare architecture — and to projects that operate across time, allowing heritage, contemporary life, and future needs to coexist.

 

Interview by Avery Monroe