| Core Design Workshop |

The work of Core Design Workshop explores what may be called an architecture of the in-between, spaces that exist between interior and exterior, between old and new, between structure and void.

This sensibility emerges from the cultural and environmental conditions of Southeast Asia, where architecture is shaped by thresholds, courtyards, and interstitial spaces that mediate climate and daily life.

The following essay reflects on how this perspective developed.

⸻

Architecture of the In-Between
an essay by Chun Hooi, Tan

Soft-Boiled Eggs

Between Raw and Cooked
Notes on the Architecture of the In-Between

Growing up in Malaysia, soft-boiled eggs were something I ate without thinking much about.

At the neighbourhood coffeeshop, they would arrive in a small bowl, two eggs just set by hot water. A dash of soy sauce, a little white pepper, and a spoon to gently break the surface. Usually eaten with kaya toast and coffee, it was one of the simplest breakfasts imaginable.

For many years, it was just food.

Only much later did I realise that this humble dish quietly reflects something about the cultural condition of where we live.

The egg is neither fully raw nor fully cooked.

The white has begun to set but is not quite solid.

The yolk remains fluid but has already changed.

It exists somewhere in between.

In many Western cultures, eggs often appear runny or lightly cooked. In China, they are more commonly eaten fully boiled. Here in Malaysia and Singapore, however, the egg appears in another form, not raw, not fully cooked, but somewhere in between.

Soft-boiled.

The more I think about it, the more this small detail feels strangely familiar.

As Malaysian Chinese, many of us grow up in a similar cultural condition.

We carry traditions inherited from China, yet we are shaped by a multicultural Southeast Asian society. At the same time, our education, language, and professional training are often deeply influenced by Western systems.

Because of this, we rarely stand fully inside any one tradition.

We are never quite as natural in English as those who grew up in the West.

Nor can we claim to represent Chinese culture with the same authenticity as those who live in China or Taiwan.

So we often find ourselves somewhere in between.

Between East and West.

Between inherited traditions and contemporary life.

Between different ways of understanding the world.

For a long time, this position can feel uncertain, as if one is always slightly outside of things.

But over time, I began to realise that this condition also offers something else.

It creates distance.

Not the distance of detachment, but a subtle distance that allows one to observe.

When one stands completely inside a system, many assumptions become invisible. They are simply accepted as normal. But when one stands too far outside, understanding becomes superficial.

Somewhere in between, however, relationships begin to appear more clearly.

It is a bit like standing in front of a painting.

Too close, and all you see are fragments of colour and brushstrokes. Too far away, and the image loses its detail. But at a certain distance, the composition begins to reveal itself.

This in-between position allows a similar clarity.

It allows one to participate in a culture while still observing it.

Over time, this way of seeing began to shape the way I think about architecture.