Symphony of nature and architecture: The beauty of Suzhou gardens

As an international student from Myanmar, my first encounter with Suzhou's classical gardens was unforgettable. These UNESCO-listed landscapes, where nature and human ingenuity intertwine, completely reshaped my understanding of spatial aesthetics. Every design here whispers a truth: architecture should not conquer nature but respect all living things.

The moment I stepped into the Humble Administrator's Garden, I was awestruck. Scenes I had only seen in books and documentaries now unfolded vividly before me, as if I had traveled back to ancient China. Walking through the gate, a towering white wall blocked the view — a technique my professor called "scenery-blocking," designed to create intrigue with its "winding path leading to hidden wonders". Rounding the wall, pavilions, rockeries, and foliage continuously recomposed into new vistas with every step, truly embodying the concept of "shifting views with shifting steps."

Standing before the Guanyun Tower in the Lingering Garden, I discovered another marvel: garden walls need not be boundaries! Designers had "borrowed" the distant Beisi Pagoda (a technique called "scenery-borrowing"), turning the sky and architecture into extensions of the garden itself. When I raised my phone to capture the scene, every angle framed a postcard-perfect composition.

The fantastical stones captivated me most. The rockery in the Lion Grove Garden resembled a stone maze, sunlight filtering through its pores to paint starlike patterns on the ground. Touching the porous surface of these Taihu Lake stones — formed by centuries of water erosion — I felt they were living sculptures, conversing daily with wind, rain, and sunlight. Finally, I understood why ancient artisans prized stones that were "emaciated, wrinkled, porous, and translucent".

Among Suzhou's designs, the windows of the Master-of-Nets Garden opened my eyes. Resting in the Branch Beyond Bamboo Porch, I noticed how square windows turned bamboo shadows into ink paintings, circular frames transformed maple leaves into oil canvases, and hexagonal openings sliced stone bridges and streams into geometric puzzles. These windows acted as curated frames for landscapes — proof that ancient Chinese gardeners mastered "scene transitions" long before modern design!

Now, whenever I sketch architectural plans, I remember what Suzhou's gardens taught me: great architecture should not fight nature but hold hands with it like old friends.

The author, Kyi Sein (杨继顺), is an international student from Myanmar currently studying at the School of Architecture at Huaqiao University in Fujian province.