Architecture is a distinctive “science” with the power to disconnect people from nature or draw them closer to it.
In an era where sustainability is no longer an option but a standard, could a well-being-focused approach offer a gentler yet equally enduring solution?
With more than two decades of experience in the field, architect Tran Le Quoc Binh shares his insights into architecture’s role as a bridge between people and nature—one that shapes lifestyles, preserves cultural values, and promotes sustainability.
Hello, Quoc Binh. You have been practising architecture for more than 20 years, with each of your projects carrying its own unique story. What factors have influenced your design philosophy at this stage in your career?
“Philosophy” sounds grand, but really, it is a perspective shaped by experience. When I first graduated, I was drawn to creating works that made a strong impression. Over time, I began to appreciate a different kind of compliment: “The space you designed has emotion.”
At this stage, I pay more attention to the emotions and atmosphere that a space can evoke. If you think about it, the places or objects that truly move us often bear the imprint of time—a moss-covered tiled roof, a familiar wooden kitchen cabinet, or a story retold through generations. That is why I always strive to tell a story—whether that of the homeowner or my own—through the language of architecture.

Above Architect Tran Le Quoc Binh (Photo: RABHUU)
When integrating sustainability into projects across different geographical contexts, what are the biggest challenges you have encountered?
Technological advancements have made information more accessible, even in remote areas. As a result, investors in these regions have broadened their vision, gaining greater knowledge and exposure to global references. However, this also brings a noticeable trend: they begin to favour the idea of “convenience” based on urban or foreign standards.
Often, they overlook the inherent value of locally available resources, such as indigenous materials, craftsmanship, or local labour. Yet these factors not only reduce energy consumption but also play a crucial role in sustainable development.
I frequently encounter this issue in projects outside major cities. Convincing investors to rethink their perspectives and recognise the potential of local resources has been one of the greatest challenges of my career.
What is your view on the relationship between living spaces and how residents interact with them—through furniture arrangement, lighting design, or making use of the surrounding landscape?
Architecture is a unique “science”—it does not simply meet functional needs; it directly influences the psychology and behaviour of those who inhabit the space. I believe that the way residents interact with their surroundings over time has a profound impact on their well-being, while also shaping the cultural fabric of a family or community.
Living spaces are also key to preserving and promoting traditional values. The way we organise them not only honours the beauty of the past but also inspires new ways of living, forging an enduring connection between heritage, the present, and the future.
Through the organization of space, we not only preserve the old beauty but also inspire and nurture new humanistic values, creating a strong connection between the past, present and future.
In your opinion, what are the most important factors in creating a living space that supports the mental and physical well-being of its residents?
This is all about “connection”—between people and nature, between individuals, and with daily physical activities. Most importantly, it is about the “return to connection” within ourselves. This is why the Japanese embrace the art of forest bathing, and why Northern Europeans make the most of their holidays by immersing themselves in nature through outdoor pursuits. These are not merely leisure activities; they are essential rituals for restoring energy, balancing emotions, and nurturing overall health.
A living space, therefore, must be designed to foster these “connections” in a way that is both natural and sustainable.

Above A living space bathed in natural light (Photo: courtesy of architect Tran Le Quoc Binh)
What is the relationship between Design for Health and Sustainable Design, in your opinion?
Architectural design for health is a “subset” of Sustainable Design, as both aim to enhance human well-being. However, they differ in their scope—both spatially and temporally. Design for Health is centred on creating spaces that optimise users’ physical and mental well-being, offering immediate and tangible benefits in homes and workplaces.
Sustainable Design, on the other hand, takes a broader, long-term perspective. It extends beyond the individual or the present moment, encompassing future generations and the overall living environment of our planet.

Above Photo: courtesy of architect Tran Le Quoc Binh
What distinguishes sustainable design in residential spaces from other environments, such as F&B venues, hotels, or offices?
The key difference lies in the scale of impact and the potential for influence. In spaces such as restaurants, hotels, and offices, sustainable design not only benefits direct users and the immediate environment but also has the power to reshape societal habits and attitudes.
It doesn’t stop at optimising energy efficiency or using eco-friendly materials—it actively fosters a culture of sustainability. True sustainable design does not merely provide an environmentally conscious space; it cultivates awareness and behaviour that extend beyond the built environment, shaping a more sustainable way of life.

Above Photo: courtesy of architect Tran Le Quoc Binh
How do you see elements of Design for Health evolving to meet the needs of younger generations?
The 21st century has been described as a time of escalating mental health challenges, in part due to the overwhelming influx of information from the digital world and an increasing “disconnection” from nature. In the past, people had to venture outside to explore the world—now, the world fits inside a smartphone.
This shift has led younger generations to retreat into their own digital “planets”, accustomed to a “one-state environment”—a lifestyle that runs counter to the biological rhythms shaped by millennia of human evolution.
To meet this shift, well-being design must adapt—not only to foster a deeper connection with nature but also to integrate with the digital realm. I believe the principles of biophilic design will gain even greater prominence in the future.
Rooted in the concept of “biophilia”—the innate human affinity for nature, a term originating from ancient Greek—this approach acknowledges that the vast majority of human evolution took place in natural environments. As our lifestyles continue to evolve, design must evolve with them, ensuring that spaces nurture physical well-being as well as emotional and psychological resilience.
This article was originally published in Tatler Vietnam, January 2025 issue.







