Beyond landmark architecture, the quiet taste of a city

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Beyond landmark architecture, the quiet taste of a city

Published: 16 Apr. 2026, 00:04

Audio report: written by reporters, read by AI

Lim Yeong-hwan

The author is the dean of the Graduate School of Architecture and Urban Design at Hongik University,

The phrase “elementary school palate” is sometimes used to describe adults who still prefer the foods they enjoyed as children, often with a subtly dismissive tone. I still enjoy tteokbokki (stir-fried rice cake) and ramyeon, but with age I have come to distinguish between flavors built on simple seasoning and those developed through time and technique.

A media art show plays out on the outer walls of the Dongdaemun Design Plaza in central Seoul on Dec. 18, 2025. [YONHAP]

My first experience with Pyongyang naengmyeon (cold buckwheat noodles) came in my late twenties. At the time, I could not understand why anyone would eat such a mild dish. Compared with the bold and spicy Hamhung-style noodles, it seemed bland. Yet over time, I found myself willingly waiting in long lines in the summer heat outside restaurants such as Eulmildae.

Architecture is not so different from food. Just as seasoning can create an immediate and accessible taste, striking forms and dramatic exteriors in architecture can quickly attract attention. For those unfamiliar with deeper spatial experiences, such designs are often easier to appreciate.

At times, walking through ordinary alleyways in downtown Seoul, one finds oneself instinctively reaching for a camera. [LIM YEONG-HWAN]

Yet visually powerful architecture also has a role in contemporary cities. The issue lies in how it is received. More important than its form is how it functions within the urban context. The Dongdaemun Design Plaza, designed by Zaha Hadid, illustrates this point. At its opening, many admired its overwhelming form and unfamiliar spatial qualities, and it was quickly hailed as a new symbol of Seoul. It has since become one of the city’s representative buildings. Even so, it remains unclear whether it has been fully integrated into the fabric of the city.

I respect Hadid’s architectural philosophy. Her work is not the product of superficial design but the result of long experimentation and accumulated knowledge. Still, it is worth asking whether the enthusiasm surrounding the Dongdaemun Design Plaza stemmed from a genuine understanding of her work within Seoul’s context, or from a rapid reaction to her status as the first female recipient of the Pritzker Architecture Prize and her distinctive formal language.

Seoul is increasingly filled with attention-grabbing imagery. Large-scale redevelopment projects continue to introduce more elaborate forms, often competing to stand out. Discussions about apartment design along the Han River frequently involve the names of globally renowned architects. While the emergence of new landmarks is welcome, a city’s character cannot be defined by surface impressions alone.

Cities are often thought to be remembered through iconic buildings, but lived experience suggests otherwise. When people think of Paris, the Eiffel Tower may come to mind first, yet the memory of the city is more deeply rooted in narrow streets, small squares and everyday spaces such as cafes. Italian architect Aldo Rossi described the city as a structure shaped by accumulated memory and time. Streets, squares and residential blocks endure beyond changing eras and form the essence of urban identity.

Perhaps Seoul is still in the process of developing its own flavor. Rapid growth has produced a layered landscape where tradition and modernity coexist without full coordination. In this process, the city sometimes resembles an improvised dish. As food relies on seasoning when time is lacking, urban development can fall back on the quick creation of landmarks rather than the gradual accumulation of character.

The Dongdaemun Design Plaza may serve as a compelling photographic subject, but it is less easily absorbed into the everyday rhythm of the city. While singular buildings can shape moments, it is the countless ordinary structures between them that ultimately define the character of a place.

Moments that capture Korean architecture also reveal the harmony between nature and the built environment. This image shows Byeongsan Seowon in Andong, North Gyeongsang Province. [LIM YEONG-HWAN]

Walking through ordinary neighborhoods, one occasionally encounters scenes that quietly invite attention. They are not striking, but they hold the gaze. In such moments, the city’s identity reveals itself through the rhythm of accumulated time.

Korean architecture has long valued relationships over display. The hierarchy of spaces, harmony with nature and careful use of boundaries have shaped its distinctive order. Like traditional cuisine that draws out the natural flavor of ingredients, architecture here has evolved over time through balance and restraint.

For this reason, I hope our cities become like Pyongyang naengmyeon. They may seem understated at first, but reveal depth the longer one stays. Rather than offering immediate stimulation, they should develop a quiet and lasting character unique to themselves.

This article was originally written in Korean and translated by a bilingual reporter with the help of generative AI tools. It was then edited by a native English-speaking editor. All AI-assisted translations are reviewed and refined by our newsroom.