The Youngeun Paper Chungmuro HQ serves as both the corporate headquarters and logistics warehouse for Youngeun Paper, a paper distribution company. It transplants the horizontally expanding warehouse model vertically into a high-density urban centre, combining office space, a gallery, cutting and processing areas, and large-scale storage into a single mixed-use industrial facility. The floor plan and cross-section have been organised to follow the paper handling process: receiving, stacking, cutting, and shipping. A column-free storage area measuring 14×17m has been secured, while the freight elevator, stairwell, and utility core are compactly arranged along one side to accommodate paper pallets and forklift movement.​

 

In the early years of my professional career, I didn’t have a very clear idea of what kind of architecture I wanted to pursue. I was sometimes swept up in the atmosphere. Still, I think I was more focused on architecture itself then. I spent a lot of time thinking about the space itself—how the light would come inside, what the space would smell like, and so on. Studying abroad broadened my perspective. Before, I had looked at architecture from the inside out. Afterward, I began to look from the outside in. I started considering how architecture exists within history, what kind of order it forms within the urban landscape, the structures and orders of old cities, and how buildings should be preserved. Most of the projects in Paris were involved with renovation or extension, and it is very difficult to design something that goes against the established order of an old city. Naturally, my perspective naturally expanded towards the city and the urban context.

 

I still remember the moment I first set foot on this site. Although it was a 5–10 minute driving distance from the city centre of Dongducheon, it was as if I had entered a different universe. Even before the density and noise of the city had fully subsided, the air seemed to change at some point. Even now, it is difficult to pinpoint exactly where that line was. What is certain, however, is that beyond that moment, the sensations of the city were left behind, and a space of an entirely different order came into being. Surrounded by the forest on all sides, the site occupied a generous clearing at the heart of the woods. It felt less like a gap carved out of the forest and more of a place the forest had chosen to leave empty for itself. The sound of water running down from the surrounding channels, the sing song of birds, and grasses rustling in the wind overlapped in layers; simply standing there, enveloped by these sounds, brought an immediate sense of immersion in nature. ​

 

I remember trying to imagine various new ways of using this site: perhaps a flea market organised in collaboration with local residents, or an art workshop for children, which is a kind of facility that is particularly lacking in Yeongdo given the rapid decline in its population. The reason it was planned as a cultural complex rather than a simple commercial space derives from the desire to preserve the identity of this place as a ‘place where people get together’, given that for over a decade it was made available to the 5-Day Market at virtually no cost. We named this newly constructed building Canopy, which means a large roof. The building’s simple and rustic first impression, as if a tin roof were atop light steel columns, is perfectly suited to preserving the atmosphere of this place, where people would gather as soon as someone started setting up a tent for an open-air market.

Modernist Discipline: Choi Moongyu + Ga.A Architects

 

Simplicity is the most important theme in my architecture: simple architecture built upon clarity of thought. I begin with the idea of ‘questioning the familiarities of the world and proposing alternatives’, then refine and develop that idea so that it can be clearly understood. As I think more about how to communicate an idea rather than the form of a building, a design that was initially complex gradually becomes simpler, and my concern with the shape, size, or proportion of windows, for example, starts to fade. Rather than arbitrary proportions or forms, I focus on ‘communicating the idea’. If I use a cube, for example, I tend towards an exact cube, and the windows become square. In Ssamziegil (2004), I concentrated on creating a natural continuation from Insadong-gil into the building, using materials that do not call attention to themselves and concealing the details.