In the ancient walled city of Datong, Shanxi Province, a thousand-year-old frontier stands quietly at the edge of China’s volcanic plateau. Into the heart of this history, Beijing-based Ruize Design has woven Cloudspa Sanctuary: a two-courtyard Siheyuan transformed into a healing retreat where private hot springs, primordial basalt stone, and the whisper of flowing water invite guests to shed the weight of the modern world. For this deeply rooted and philosophically rich work, Ruize Design has been awarded the LIV Interior Design of the Year – Living Space. We sat down with lead designer Wenyuan Guo to explore a practice whose design language is inseparable from the soil beneath it.
Datong is a city with a staggering amount of history, spanning several dynasties. How did the “spirit” of this ancient location dictate the colors, textures, and moods you chose for the Cloudspa Sanctuary?
Datong, a city with a staggering amount of history spanning several dynasties, provided not a “spirit” we chose to reference, but the very bedrock and canvas upon which our entire project rests. This began with our most fundamental decision: to anchor the project within a traditional two-courtyard Siheyuan in the ancient city’s core. The Siheyuan typology itself, a living embodiment of Chinese urban spatial order and residential civilization, predefined the starting point and framework for all our design interventions.
Therefore, our work was not one of creation from zero, but of deeply reading and meticulously translating the existing “text” of the site. The color palette was extracted from the environment: the earthy yellow-grey of the ancient city walls, the dark blue-grey of old roof tiles, and the serene tones of the northern plateau sky. The materiality, particularly the profound use of local basalt, became our most direct dialogue with Datong’s unique geological context—its volcanic landscape. This primordial, textured, and enduring stone transforms the historical sense of “patina” into a physical reality that can be felt.
Our deeper intention was to craft an “immersive” experiential narrative. Guests first wander the ancient city’s lanes, sensing the whisper of every brick and tile. Then, in a natural, almost unconscious transition, they step into our courtyard compound. This movement from the public bustle of the street to the private seclusion of the courtyard is itself a ritual. Brick, tile, and timber—these most natural materials—become the medium connecting millennia. Through contemporary design language, we articulated and enhanced the inherent spatial sequence and layers of the Siheyuan. Space itself, and the juxtaposition and interplay of materials, become a passage for guests to physically and experientially engage with that introspective, tranquil, and profound traditional way of life. Ultimately, the essence of the ancient city is no longer a scenery to be viewed, but a continuous scene to be walked through, touched, and fully immersed in. The character of the Northern Wei, Liao, and Jin dynasties is thus naturally inherited through this contemporary reinterpretation of material, atmosphere, and spatial rhythm.
Traditional Siheyuan courtyards are often known for being dark or compartmentalized. You’ve described your approach as a “spatial miracle.” What was the “aha!” moment when you realized you could turn these low-ceilinged rooms into flowing, airy suites?
Indeed, traditional Siheyuan courtyards are often perceived as dim and compartmentalized—a direct result of the inherent constraints of their timber post-and-beam system, where the spans dictate the scale and division of space. However, when we committed to transforming this two-courtyard Siheyuan into a healing retreat where every suite enjoys a private hot spring and its own courtyard, we knew we had to move beyond these conventional physical and perceptual boundaries.
The pivotal “lightbulb moment” arrived when we consciously chose to disregard traditional room segmentation and structural limitations. We asked ourselves: if the private courtyard and spring are the heart of the experience, why should we be confined by existing walls and column grids? A revolutionary idea took shape: the original columns, beams, roof, and walls could be preserved as the “historical framework” and narrative “imprint” of the space, without having to act as absolute boundaries for function or view. This shift in thinking was crucial—we stopped seeing the ancient structure as a rigid divider to be obeyed, and began to regard it as a poetic armature into which new life could be woven.
Guided by this, we undertook an “inside-out” spatial reorganization. We freed the volume housing the hot spring from the interior, letting it become a focal point embedded within the courtyard. The original living quarters were redefined as a “living plinth” intimately linked to it. Through expansive glazing, slender modern frames, and precisely positioned openings, we introduced light, transparent new interfaces within the heavy historical shell. Light, sightlines, and movement could now flow and mingle freely between these old and new layers.
Ultimately, it was by challenging the absolute authority of these traditional constraints that we succeeded in using a contemporary design language to recreate—within this strict historical vessel—a rich, fluid, and deeply nature-immersive living experience. The once “dim and divided” courtyard has been transformed into a serene stage of shifting light and shadow, where interior and exterior dissolve, allowing history’s armature to gently embrace a contemporary life of restoration.
You specifically chose local basalt stone from the volcanic plateau. Why was it important for guests to literally touch this primordial stone, and how does it change the feeling of a hot-spring bath compared to standard tile or marble?
Our deliberate choice to use local basalt stems from a fundamental belief: there is an essential difference between what is natural and what is man-made. We are convinced that humans are meant to live within nature. Our vital energy, even the deepest memories in our DNA, instinctively crave, adapt to, and need to draw energy from the natural world. Just as we need to eat natural, unprocessed food, our body and mind equally need to dwell in a “natural” environment. Every direct contact with nature—feeling the texture of a material with our skin, observing the flow of light and water—is like a sacred interaction. It nourishes every cell and helps restore our inner equilibrium.
In today’s world of advanced industrialization and modernity, life is exceptionally convenient, yet it has also increasingly alienated us from this primordial energy. Therefore, we believe creating a healing context that allows people to completely “disconnect” has never been more crucial. This is the core mission of “Cloudspa Sanctuary”. We wanted guests not only to seenature but to physically touchit. Basalt, this primordial stone from the volcanic plateau of Datong, is the key medium for realizing this intention.
In stark contrast to the smooth, cold, and highly artificial feel of standard tiles or marble, basalt is “alive.” Its texture is rugged yet warm; each piece is unique in color and grain, telling a story millions of years old. When a guest immerses in the private hot spring, as the warm water envelops the body, the hands and feet touch the pool walls and floor made of solid, raw basalt with its natural pores and subtle undulations. A profound connection is established. This tactile sensation does not offer the refined detachment of an industrial product but provides a grounding force—a sense of stability, solidity, and connection to the earth’s primal energy.
Therefore, the core function of basalt, and indeed all natural materials, goes far beyond the physical senses. Their ultimate role is to help people rediscover and reintegrate themselves. While standardized, polished materials offer a sanitized experience of “being serviced,” basalt facilitates an inward-looking ritual of “dialogue with the earth.” Through its honest physical presence, it constantly reminds you of the spirit of the place—you are in an ancient city on the volcanic plateau of northern China. The water is hot; the stone is “ancient.” Within this “field” constructed by natural materials and filled with a sense of time, one can temporarily shed the roles and distractions of modern society and turn attention to the observation of one’s own inner state of being. Thus, the hot spring bath transcends physical relaxation, becoming a deep process of self-reorganization and spiritual healing mediated through nature. It allows one to regain a sense of replenished energy and wholeness before re-engaging with the outside world. This is a function and a state of being that man-made, polished materials simply cannot match.
Water plays a big role in this project, with balconies even cantilevering over pools. What is it about the presence of water that completes the “healing sanctuary” experience you were aiming for?
Water, celebrated in Chinese philosophy as the embodiment of “ultimate virtue,” represents the highest wisdom that nourishes all life. To us, it is not only a ubiquitous physical substance but also a maternal force imbued with special energy and frequency. Human life begins immersed in amniotic fluid, and this innate intimacy makes water the most fundamental source of healing in our biological memory.
Thus, at “Cloudspa Sanctuary,” we placed water at the experiential core. It is more than a landscape feature; it is the energetic foundation and spiritual carrier that constructs the “healing sanctuary.” Through multi-layered design, we allowed water to engage space and the senses in various forms, realizing its healing power in a holistic manner.
The first layer is direct physical healing, found in the private hot spring of each suite. The warmth and minerals of the spring, combined with the enveloping quality of water, provide deep physical restoration and relaxation—this is water’s most immediate gift.
The second layer is continuous environmental healing. We carefully crafted artificial streams in the landscape, mimicking the form and sound of babbling natural waterways. As guests stroll through the courtyard or enjoy breakfast in the morning, their ears are soothed by the constant, gentle sound of flowing water, while their eyes follow the dynamic play of light on the stream. This persistent “presence” of water acts like a silent mother, tenderly nurturing weary minds and bodies, invisibly “recharging” the spirit.
The design of the “balcony cantilevering over the pool” constitutes the third layer—psychological and perceptual healing. It transcends sight and sound to create a unique “suspended” experience. Standing on the balcony, one’s body feels upheld by the water below, while the gaze meets the tranquil reflections and the depth of the pool. This space achieves a delicate balance between being “surrounded by water” and “floating above it,” offering a sense of stability and serenity that is both embracing and detached. It intensifies the perception of water as an energetic base, allowing guests to feel its supportive embrace even without direct contact.
The uniqueness of water lies precisely in how it weaves a three-dimensional healing field through these three deepening dimensions: physical immersion, sensory envelopment, and psychological uplift. It enables guests, from skin to soul, to reconnect with that primordial tranquility and energy intrinsic to life itself. This is the very foundation upon which the “healing sanctuary” is built.
You’ve described the interior style as a “Frontier Lodge.” For our readers who might be unfamiliar with that term, how would you describe that look, and why does it feel so right for a historic Chinese courtyard?
The concept of the “Frontier Lodge” stems, in essence, from a deep reading of the site’s history. Datong is not a typical ancient city steeped in the literati culture of the Central Plains; it is a frontier stronghold. The Siheyuan here carries a historical memory and spiritual core fundamentally different from those in Beijing’s hutongs—it bears not a narrative of scholarly tranquility, but the weighty stories of garrison duty, warfare, cultural convergence, and sheer survival. Therefore, we believed the design of this space must first honestly and powerfully embody this uniquely frontier history and character.
We were not “designing” a style; we were using materials, colors, and space to weave a silent, texture-rich “web of stories.” We employed primordial timber, rammed earth textures echoing the Great Wall fortifications, basalt sourced from the local volcanic landscape, and heavy wool textiles. These rugged, minimally processed materials are each a historical “vocabulary.” The texture and atmosphere they collectively create speak directly of windswept sands, beacon fires, migration, and resilience.
The purpose is to create a profoundly local, irreplicable healing experience. When guests touch these walls and feel the temperature and weight of these materials, they perceive not just a comfortable dwelling, but a field that allows for a deep dialogue with the unique historical and geographical context of the “frontier.” The space’s capacity for profound healing arises precisely because its story is authentic, and its “roots” are deeply embedded in the very soil of Datong.
This is not a vague “Oriental aesthetic” space that could exist anywhere. It is a healing sanctuary that can only exist, that only makes sense, in a frontier ancient city like Datong. Here, the tension and balance between historical沧桑 and contemporary tranquility, between frontier ruggedness and bodily care, form the unique site spirit and compelling essence of “Cloudspa Sanctuary.”
The sanctuary looks incredibly organic and ancient, yet it features “invisible” smart systems. How do you balance high-tech convenience (like climate and lighting controls) without breaking the spell of being in a thousand-year-old environment?
The balance you observed originates from a fundamental design philosophy: technology should serve as an “invisible attendant,” whose highest purpose is to be “unseen” and to act with “effortless efficacy.” To realize this, we undertook a comprehensive, ground-up process of “bidirectional translation” and “custom integration.”
This was far beyond mere installation. We began by mastering two distinct “languages”: the ethos of traditional Chinese timber construction and the logic of modern building systems. We recognized that standardized industrial components are fundamentally incompatible with the irregular nature of historical structures. Consequently, we completely redesigned every subsystem for this Siheyuan—from lighting and underfloor heating to HVAC and hydraulics. We discarded all “standard solutions,” meticulously replanning the routing of every conduit, the form of every outlet, and even the organization of airflow to align with the texture of the brick-and-wood fabric and the spatial sequence. We compelled the technical systems to actively “adapt and conform,” seamlessly integrating and disappearing within the “body” of the ancient architecture.
Our significant effort had a singular, clear objective: to prevent any visible symbol of modern technology—be it a conspicuous vent, switch panel, or fixture—from disrupting the visual poetry and historical immersion crafted by wood, stone, light, and shadow. The result is that guests perceive only pure comfort: ambient warmth, appropriate lighting, instant hot water, and profound tranquility. All sources of this convenience operate “silently and unnoticed.”
Therefore, this is not merely a technical balancing act, but the definitive establishment of a servant-master relationship. We do not emphasize, and indeed intentionally conceal, these electrical functionalities, as they “should simply perform their duty impeccably from the background.” Our entire design focus remains steadfast on intensifying the courtyard’s poetic atmosphere and the healing environment’s restorative energy. Enabling technology to serve the scene utterly while rendering itself invisible is precisely our core methodology for not only preserving but enhancing the timeless magic of the millennial environment.
Many people think of “green” design as solar panels and new tech, but you focused on “adaptive reuse.” How does saving an old building contribute to a healthier planet in a way that new construction can’t?
You have raised a profoundly essential question. This truly transcends technology, pointing directly to a design philosophy, even a philosophy of existence. We believe genuine sustainability is rooted in the fundamental mode of coexistence between a project and the Earth’s environment.
This aligns with the traditional Chinese concept of “the unity of heaven and humanity” (tian ren he yi)—the pursuit of harmonious symbiosis between humans and nature. Applying this philosophy to architecture means we should first strive to be “understanders” and “transformers,” rather than solely “creators” and “replacers.”
“Adaptive reuse” is the practice of this philosophy. It achieves a deeper, more holistic form of environmental friendliness that is difficult for new construction to match:
Therefore, while focusing on new technologies like solar panels often addresses the question of “how to consume more efficiently,” the philosophy of “adaptive reuse” questions, “Do we truly need to consume this much in the first place?” Starting from a holistic perspective, it fosters a deeper, healthier balance between the architectural project and nature and society—akin to the unity of heaven and humanity—through material restraint, respect for the existing, and the activation of wisdom. This, perhaps, constitutes a more fundamental and friendly contribution to a “healthier planet.”
Winning the LIV Hospitality Design Award is a big achievement. How did the team react to the news, and what does this global recognition mean for you?
The moment we learned the news, the entire team was overcome with immense excitement and joy. To be candid, from the very beginning when we decided to independently create “Cloudspa Sanctuary” using our integrated model, the LIV Hospitality Design Awards stood as the professional pinnacle we aspired to. We longed for our work to be scrutinized on this platform representing the industry’s highest standards. Yet, to ultimately receive the globally unique “Best of the Year” award—this supreme affirmation truly surpassed our initial hopes and has given the team tremendous confidence.
To me personally, the weight of this global recognition goes far beyond being a mere accolade or a career endorsement. What I cherish most is the profound resonance and validation the jurors granted us at the level of design philosophy. It signifies that the complete design value system and methodology we adhere to—the philosophy of “Unity of Heaven and Humanity,” the respect for the “adaptive reuse” of historic structures, the attempt to translate the “frontier spirit” with a contemporary language, and the deep, end-to-end practice from conception and design to construction and operation—has been understood and affirmed by the world’s top peers. This is undoubtedly the most powerful encouragement for the “road less traveled” that our team has chosen.
This honor feels more like a potent surge of “spiritual energy.” It will not make us complacent, but will instead become vital fuel for our future journey. It motivates and compels us to continue cultivating each project with even greater reverence and creativity, striving to create works that can equally touch the human heart and withstand the test of time. This, perhaps, is the best way we can repay this extraordinary recognition.
What is the next “dream project” on the horizon for your studio, and what one piece of advice would you give to a young designer who looks at Cloudspa Sanctuary and hopes of winning an award like this one day?
As for the next “dream project,” we don’t have a precise blueprint. Perhaps, this very “unknown” is the most exciting part—it means the next creation will be a serendipitous encounter, shaped by our thoughts about the future, our sensitivity to place, and circumstance itself.
To the young designers who harbor such dreams, if I could only share one piece of advice, it would be this: If you want to create work that truly moves people, then, for now, don’t focus too “seriously” on designing. Instead, invest yourself more “wholeheartedly” in living.
The wellspring of design is never just image banks, case studies, or theory; its deepest nourishment always comes from life itself. A designer’s “raw material” is their perception of the world, their experience of life in all its richness, and the unique wisdom drawn from it. Love, experience, feel defeat and elation, observe the vibrancy of the everyday and the grandeur of nature, seek to understand the conditions and yearnings of different lives. Only when you are truly immersed in the flow of life can your intuitions about light, scale, material, and emotion take root and grow.
“Cloudspa Sanctuary” was born not from an obsession with a particular design style, but precisely from our longing for an ideal state of being—finding healing and integration within the embrace of history and nature. This was, first and foremost, the life we desired for ourselves, and only then did it become a space we designed for others.
Therefore, my advice is this: There’s no need to rush to prove yourself at the drafting table. First, expand the breadth and depth of your own life. Let living itself become your greatest teacher and partner. When you return to the design desk enriched with lived experience and wisdom, your creations will naturally possess a unique soul and warmth. When that happens, awards may follow, but they will merely be a natural echo of your fidelity to life and your sincere translation of it.