Arriving in Xinchang for the first time, we were greeted by mountains veiled in ink and streams winding through the land. Nature and faith converge here, giving rise to a unique tension of stillness. Our initial commission was to design the entire church, yet the project encountered many twists and turns from planning to completion. When the concrete shell of the church was finally erected by others, we thought the story had closed—until the church leadership reached out again, entrusting us with the interior design. This time, it was no longer about giving form to a building but about stepping into an existing vessel to find a foothold for light and faith.
The Constraints of the Field
We were not painting on a blank canvas. The window typology and opening mechanisms, the configuration and placement of the HVAC system, and even the flooring material had been determined before our involvement. These preconditions defined a finite design field. We accepted these limitations—true creation is never born from a void, but germinates from recognizing and respecting given conditions. Within immutable boundaries, we sought the interstices where we could begin.
The White Interface and the Rain of Light
After careful consideration of the desired spatial atmosphere and constraints, we decided to insert a pure, self-contained white architectural volume—gently “cradling” the space and human experience. This white volume grows from the base of the side walls, climbs along the existing walls, softly envelops the air conditioning units beneath the windowsills and concealing exposed ductwork. Rising upward, it forms fluid curves and cavities that “contain” sound and sight, ultimately “holding” people’s thoughts, allowing congregants to focus on listening for whispers from heaven.
The Hermitage of Acoustics
In lofty, cavernous interiors, clarity and richness often compete. The sermon must reach ears with intimate precision, while the choir’s harmonies require expansive resonance. Conventional acoustic panels would have disrupted the seamless white curves. Instead, we employed a composite structure: sound-absorbing paint layered over cavities filled with insulation, its coverage calculated precisely through acoustic modeling. Sound is gently gathered upon contact with the walls. Above the pulpit, the curved ceiling and the convex arc of the balcony’s parapet wall opposite act as reflectors and diffusers, directing sound toward the congregation. These geometries, with their disciplined restraint, exchange rationality for auditory clarity and warmth.
The Scripture of Light
Above the pulpit, following the ridge line of the curved back wall, a skylight six hundred millimeters wide is carved open. Natural light filters through, angling across the pulpit differently as the day unfolds. Light here ceases to be merely a tool for illumination and becomes a medium of time and the sacred, gilding the pulpit in every gathering with an unrepeatable, living radiance. This beam of light descending from above casts meanings beyond language into the eyes of the faithful, becoming the most restrained yet most powerful narrative within the space.
Across the ceiling, we installed vertical linear LED fixtures. The space is illuminated by these descending lines of light—a shower falling from the sky. As written in the Book of Ezekiel: “I will make them and the places surrounding my hill a blessing. I will send down showers in season; there will be showers of blessing. ” We hope each prayer within this church feels like a newborn baptism, answered by heavenly dew and light.
On the Interstice of Truth
Initially, we hoped to preserve the raw texture of the original concrete ceiling. The honest traces of construction were meant to converse with the lightweight white volume—a dialogue of “heavy and light”,” authenticity and abstraction”. Yet in the final stage of construction, the ceiling was uniformly coated with a layer of grey paint. This covering erased the material's "process" and "traces," declaring the project's "completion". It forced our gaze away from surface materials, deeper into the fields built by light and acoustics. Within this passively formed interstice, we were reminded: architecture is not frozen art, but a process continually revised by reality.
Chengzhong Church，Shaoxing / Atelier d'More
Planting Light in the Interstices
