Words Darla Bacani-Mayo
Editing Patrick Kasingsing
Images Greg Mayo (SOF Hotel)
For travelers seeking to immerse themselves in a city where the old and new coexist, Taichung, Taiwan’s second-largest city, offers an enticing mix. It’s a place where history is not treated like a museum relic or forgotten artifact but is kept alive, an active participant in the city’s story. Old neighborhoods blend with modern architecture, traditional markets sit next to sleek cafes, Taichung is that quiet friend of yours who unravels and opens up with time, after you make the effort to get to know them.
On the outskirts of Taichung’s lively center, there was no shortage of boutique hotels, each with a distinct character. One that stood out to my husband, an architectural photographer, and I was SOF Hotel. The name, which stands for Space, Order, and Form, felt fitting for the kind of experience we expected: a place that would make us think, reflect, and maybe even challenge what we knew about design and architecture.
The moment we turned onto Guangfu Road and saw SOF Hotel, it was impossible to miss. With a stark, tile-heavy facade, the building looked like it had emerged from a bygone era—roughed out and wearing its patina brazenly. This wasn’t a place that screamed for attention but instead invited quiet contemplation. There was something compelling about its ruggedness, the raw concrete, and the entropic plant tableaus tucked into its crevices, making the building feel part of nature and the city. If you didn’t know where to look, you’d almost pass it by and dismiss it as another architectural victim of its time. But therein lies its appeal, in the spatial irony it presents.
New Zealand-based architect Fearon Hay, who led the project, had this to say about the design from their website:
“After visiting the site in Taichung City, Taiwan, our instinct was to embrace the decay and character of the dilapidated structure in our approach. In a city that was becoming glassier and taller, we saw an opportunity to embrace the character of these buildings. The hotel was designed and built into the original concrete building, boasting a raw, industrial style with exposed concrete ceilings and pillars.”
The SOF Hotel website elaborates a little more on this history, where we find out the story of a preceding hotel that occupied the same building, Hotel Snow White, in the 50s. The decline of the Central district it calls home led to the building’s eventual abandonment until two brothers, Poi and Titus, whose family business was situated across saw the potential of the derelict hotel. Their vision however was not to subsume the old with the new but to embrace the “…opportunity to pause, preserve culture, and breathe new life into the streetscape by creating a new Taichung hotel.” It was a vision the award-winning team of Fearon Hay shared and by 2018, Hotel Snow White awoke from her long slumber transformed, but also not quite.
Stepping inside, the hotel is every bit as brutal as its exterior. The lobby was an exploration of contrast: light and shadow, the natural and the artificial, simplicity and complexity. At its center was the conservatory, a glass-enclosed space where sunlight poured through during the day, and soft light from above made it glow at night. The design drew the eye upward, giving the space a feeling of openness despite the building’s strong, solid structure.
“With a stark, tile-heavy facade, [SOF Hotel] looked like it had emerged from a bygone era—roughed out and wearing its patina brazenly.”
When we made our way to our room, a 48-square-meter Premier Suite, we were greeted by the same design language: raw concrete ceilings, minimalist furnishings, tempered with natural timber accents. The room’s layout created a calming environment, with that invited reflection. The gentle light filtering through the large windows contrasted with the building’s dark interior, making the room feel like a peaceful retreat. It was a strangely calming experience, almost as if you’ve left the city behind and are now within the rocky embrace of a cave.
SOF ensures that every room is not just a place to snooze but an experience to unravel, a sure treat, especially for creatives and designer types. Every corner of the room seemed to have its own story, from the carefully placed desk by the window to the thoughtful details like the reusable bag for city excursions. The amenities, such as the complimentary toiletries and handwritten notes, felt personal. One such note provides a clue to the hotel’s name:
“Sometimes, we need a little sanctuary.
A space to dream,
order your thoughts,
and form a plan for the future.
SOF Hotel is about finding time for yourself.”
Breakfast in the hotel’s shared lounge on the ground floor fronting the conservatory or on the outdoor terrace carried the same spirit. There, in the comfort of space, we could savor local flavors while enjoying a view of the city’s laid-back streets.
Without exaggeration, SOF Hotel truly reflects Taichung, Taiwan’s reserved but soulful second city. Over our week-long stay, the city has opened up—not through flashy displays, but in quiet moments, like a curtain slowly being drawn back. Age-old temples, remnants of Japanese colonial rule, a sprinkling of starchitecture, and an abundance of parks and waterways give the city its lived-in charm. It’s a place where man and nature coexist, and where a rich past meets a future brimming with possibility. In this way, the hotel’s design mirrors the city: a space where history and modernity are woven together, sometimes subtly, but always meaningfully.
As Fearon Hay pointed out:
“Rooms are conceived as dark shells with accents of natural timber furniture elements. Internally, a large void the client wanted to fill is embraced and covered to provide a central light well and garden.”
This embrace of what’s already there, of imperfect beauty, makes SOF a unique spatial experience to me. The brutalist design, which might seem austere elsewhere, feels surprisingly welcoming and apt for the historic district it calls home. It reminds you that beauty doesn’t have to be polished; it can exist in the cracks, the rough edges, the history that remains.
SOF gave me and my husband the much-needed pause we craved from our daily toil, with the added pleasure of taking in the layers that make up the city’s identity. Leaving SOF, I felt I had taken a piece of Taichung’s story with me: an understanding of how space, order, and form shape the hotel and the city. •
