TENGIS Munkh-Orgil - Reimagining Urban Mongolia
Interviewed by Nomko Baatar (Class of 2013) and photographed by Suniko Bazargarid (Class of 2013).
Get to know Tengis Munkh-Orgil (Class of 2012), an architect at Anagram Atelier who has dedicated his career to transforming Ulaanbaatar’s urban landscape. Passionate about design from an early age, he pursued architecture at the Mongolian University of Science and Technology (MUST), where he studied both architecture and design. With nearly a decade in the field, Tengis has contributed to some of Mongolia’s most notable projects, including Ulaanbaatar Park, a groundbreaking green space developed in collaboration with Rio Tinto. Beyond his work in architecture, Tengis is deeply invested in urban planning and rethinking Mongolia’s approach to public spaces and bringing a fresh perspective to Mongolia’s evolving cityscape. Tengis believes that architecture should not only serve aesthetic purposes but also enhance people’s daily lives, advocating for thoughtful urban development, pedestrian-friendly design, and sustainable planning.
Full name: Tengis Munkh-Orgil
Hobby Alumni: 2012
Higher Education: Mongolian University of Science and Technology (MUST/ШУТИС) – Interior Designer /Architecture
Sector(s): Architecture, Urban planning
Current Workplace: Architect at Anagram Atelier
Frequented Websites: www.archdaily.com, www.big.dk, www.dezeen.com
3 Favorite Places: Ulaanbaatar Park, Lake Khar Khentii province /Хагийн Хар Нуур/, Jargant River Khuvsgul province
3 Books to Recommend: The Story of Art /E.H. Gombrich/, Architecture Form, Space & Order /Francis D.K. Ching/, Yes is More. Anchicomic on Architectural Evolution /Bjarke Ingels/
3 Architects to Recommend: Tadoa Ando, Renzo Piano, Sanaa /Kazuyo Sejima+Ryue Nishizawa/
FOUNDATION
Please introduce yourself
My name is Tengis, and I’m a 2012 graduate of Hobby School. I pursued a degree in architecture and have been working as an architect for the Anagram Atelier for nine years. I’m passionate about architecture and have devoted my life to it because in Ulaanbaatar, most of the buildings look uniform and boring—just gray, box-like structures. I wanted to change that. I want to improve people’s living environment, to make it more interesting and artistic, even if my contribution was to be small.
Did you find Ulaanbaatar’s buildings boring and unattractive even back when you were at Hobby School, or did you come to think that later?
I did think about it back then. The environment people live in starts from the sidewalks they walk on–they should be designed so that people can walk without any inconvenience. However, in Mongolia, there aren’t even any proper standards for sidewalks. The city doesn’t consider the pedestrians in its urban planning, one of the consequences of which is congestion, for example. Even back when we were at the old location of Hobby School, there were no strict standards for the school building itself. The buildings we live and work in also shouldn’t have unnecessary space; they should be arranged in the way people want and need. And on a personal level, since I have OCD, I like everything to be neat and balanced (laughs).
When did you start at Hobby School?
I started in 3rd grade. My family knew Principal Oyuntsetseg because she lived on the top floor of my grandfather’s apartment building, and when she told us she was opening Hobby School, my family decided to transfer me there, even though at that time, most children went to public schools.
You said you learned a lot from Principal Oyuntsetseg at Hobby School. Which other teachers or classes influenced you the most back in your Hobby School days?
My favorite teacher was Gunsen bagsh (teacher). I used to be really bad at math — I didn’t understand fractions at all (laughs). But when Gunsen bagsh started teaching our class, I grew to love it. She would take 5-10 minutes at the beginning of each lesson to review previous topics in a very easy way, which was super helpful and gave me a good foundation in math. In 9th grade, I even participated in the S. Batbold city math competition and won a bronze medal.
Any other teachers who influenced you?
Ijilmurun bagsh also influenced me a lot. Since I liked drafting, I really respected her. Most of my classmates weren’t very good in her class, so I ended up doing a lot of people’s assignments (laughs).
Did you charge money for doing their assignments?
No (laughs). But in return, one classmate used to write all my essays, since I was better in science subjects.
Did you ever think about switching to another school since you were more math-inclined?
The reason I went to Hobby School was for its curriculum and the teachers’ approach, and the fact that 50% of the classes were in English and 50% in Mongolian. It also focused not only on academics but on social skills and personal development. I realize now that studying at Hobby gave me a different perspective. One time, I almost got expelled from Hobby School, but Principal Oyuntsetseg looked past it and told us that everyone makes mistakes, and that the important part is to learn from them and not repeat them. That episode taught me to be unafraid to make mistakes. Principal Oyuntsetseg was an artist herself and taught us not just academics but also about the art of living. She used to say, “Women can butcher sheep; men can build a Mongolian ger,” suggesting that we should learn to be self-reliant and contribute to society. So since my interest has always been in drafting, my interest became extended to architecture, and I chose this profession thinking that I’d help contribute to the urban architecture scene in Mongolia.
“I chose this profession thinking that I’d help contribute to the urban architecture scene in Mongolia. ”
Usually, Hobby School encourages students to study abroad, right? Did you ever consider it? Why did you decide to stay in Mongolia and enroll in the School of Architecture at the Mongolian University of Science and Technology (MUST)?
I wanted to study architecture in Mongolia first—learning the norms and standards here—then maybe go to Italy or elsewhere for my masters degree because I believe that architectural theory is pretty universal; whether you study abroad or at home, it all depends on how you develop yourself.
At MUST, I enrolled in both the design and architecture departments, so I was in university for 5 years. But the actual reason why I enrolled in both design and architecture departments is a bit silly. The day before the exam, I was at a friend’s birthday celebration, and I overslept the next morning. By the time I arrived, the Architecture department was already full, but there were still open seats in the Design department, so I ended up enrolling there first, and joining the Architecture department from my 3rd year.
How was it to study at MUST?
It wasn’t until the second year that we focused more on design concepts. The classes where I learned 3D programs—3DS Max and SolidWorks—were my favorites as a student. What was interesting is that in the design department, the classes relied more on computer-based work; and in the architecture department, the classes expected students to do things by hand, and still expected a perfect presentation for the diploma projects. Since I studied in both schools, I learned both hand drawing and how to work with programs, which was a major advantage to me.
In general, there were several things I found lacking in the Mongolian higher education field. What bothered me the most was that the teachers at MUST usually had master’s degrees, but not enough on-site or practical experience, so they couldn’t give us the practical training we needed. Additionally back then, the architectural field in Mongolia was just starting to develop, so the teachers could’ve encouraged the students to be more open-minded in their thinking. Instead, they criticized the students, saying things like “That building won’t stand up” without explaining the structural or conceptual reasoning in detail. Sure, maybe the students’ projects were weak or incomplete, but a good educator would try to draw out the student’s thought process. I believe because of that mentality, many buildings in Mongolia have remained simple, box-like structures – people learn to do what’s easiest to make money quickly.
I believe because of that mentality, many buildings in Mongolia have remained simple, box-like structures – people learn to do what’s easiest to make money quickly.
Even though the past is in the past, were there any mentors at MUST who truly helped you?
Everyone who graduated from the architecture department loved this one teacher, Amgalan, who taught “Urban Planning Design.”. He used to be a graffiti artist, very hip-hop style, then went to study in Japan and came back as a somewhat different person. He taught in a way that inspired us—his sketches, the buildings he had worked on, and his teaching methods were all motivating. Most students aspiring to be architects aim to become like this teacher.
What exactly did they teach in “Urban Planning Design”?
Each semester, we’d look at something like a section of a ger district and figure out how to redevelop it under a partial redevelopment plan. Urban planning typically covers everything that should exist in a district—schools, kindergartens, etc. Mongolia, unfortunately, doesn’t have a strong urban planning framework. A city forms when two conditions are met - a certain level of infrastructure is in place, such as water, sewer, heating, and power lines, and there is an economy to sustain that city. However, Ulaanbaatar got overcrowded because people from the countryside poured into UB as they didn’t have other choices, causing a disorganized sprawl and a massive ger district. People now talk about building a satellite city; however, without a strong economic base, it just won’t materialize.
In Mongolia, ger districts expand chaotically, without clear zoning. In Mongolia, people generally understand urban planning only in the broadest sense, never in depth. Urban planning would ideally designate the areas for schools, housing, factories, and so on from the get-go, and then the city would grant land accordingly. But here, it’s done in reverse: land is granted first, and only then does the city think about the planning – and then if you want to build something, you’d have to negotiate with the landowners who were already granted the land. For example, many older buildings get demolished, only to get replaced with bigger buildings as part of “redevelopment”, when really, it’s just done for profit.
For people who want to learn architecture, is it always necessary to go abroad? Or is having a deep knowledge of Mongolia’s context and environment actually more valuable?
One major advantage of studying abroad is exposure to top schools and famous architects’ styles. You get new ideas and philosophies directly on-site. Mongolia’s educational system—our professors, materials, and standards—lags a bit behind. But if you decide to study abroad, make sure you carefully research the school, the professors, and the curriculum.
If you plan to work in Mongolia, there’s some benefit to studying at home because you’ll learn more about Mongolian standards and codes. Also, those who study abroad face more hurdles aligning foreign standards with local norms once they return. On the flip side, they can bring back fresh, creative, even “crazy” ideas to enrich local practices.
BODY
How is the quality of life of an architect in Mongolia?
When I initially entered the field, architecture salaries in Mongolia were pretty low – I started working for 400,000 MNT per month. Now people in Mongolia are beginning to value the field a bit more. However, there are a lot of drawbacks to the field - this job requires a lot of night shifts—sitting and sketching, creating concepts. Because it’s all about reading, drawing, and designing, there’s no way to get it done strictly in an 8-hour day. There’s always overtime. Furthermore, clients who truly understand and value architecture are still rare. New graduates don’t realize that and often get discouraged in the first month or two. So architects need to be very passionate people. In the field of architecture, perseverance is essential. The profession requires the ability to overcome challenges and the determination to see projects through from start to finish. Strong-willed architects are particularly well-suited to navigate setbacks, work under pressure, and remain committed to their vision, no matter the obstacles they face along the way. This resilience is key to success in such a demanding field.
Did you do an internship during your time at MUST?
I got the opportunity to intern at my current company Anagram Atelier. It was a big learning experience, seeing how standards and norms are applied in real-world projects. In 2016, during my internship, I collaborated with a senior architect to create 3D renderings of a New Yaarmag residential complex. Besides the official internship period required by my school, I worked part-time for around two years. Then in 2018, after graduating, I ended up joining them full-time.
What is the main goal of your organization?
In essence, every architecture firm aims to create high-quality designs and buildings that meet people’s needs while adhering to standards and regulations. Our company in particular aims to produce more “design-heavy,” philosophical, and creative architecture. When we begin a project, our architects gather as a team to develop concepts, share ideas, and study examples of what’s been done internationally, then present to the client—so there’s a lot of mutual learning. We’ve had opportunities to collaborate with major firms from Russia, South Korea, Japan, and the U.S. on large-scale projects. We also bring in foreign consultants for highly specialized projects like mixed used buildings, sport complexes, and shopping malls, which is a real advantage for our clients.
What criteria do you use when deciding which clients to work with?
We get a wide range of clients. Some of them say, “I’ll invest one billion MNT and want to get two billion MNT back,” focusing heavily on profit. Others truly love their building and want to improve or expand on it. We try to gauge their approach—do they value the architectural side of things or only see it as a financial tool? This matters because architecture is basically turning someone’s investment into our shared creative vision. So in general, our company prefers to handle bigger, more socially significant projects that benefit the city at large. We have everyone involved in one project so we can collaborate in-depth. If we split into too many teams, the final result might not be as high-quality. So we like to remain a “tightly knit” team, focusing on delivering top-notch projects.
We’re worked on buildings in high demand within the city, such as “MMS Green Building”, “Sky Garden”, and “Steppe Arena”, designing residential buildings, service and community centers, shopping areas, and sports facilities.
What was the first “real” project you worked on?
My very first project was the rather controversial development next to the Ulaanbaatar Park called “UB Village”. Had it come to fruition, it would’ve included a science and cultural center, 3-5 story residential buildings, commercial buildings, and office blocks on the park’s land. We collaborated with an American firm called “Pau,” on the concept design, and took ownership of the detailed drawings and execution of the project. However, a public movement “Save the Park” arose to protect the park and the project ended up going to court. Ultimately, it did not get implemented.
How did you feel about that project not going forward?
It was quite disappointing since it was my first major project, and I worked on it for over two years, only to see it abandoned.
“But I do believe the public movement “Save the Park” was justified. As a result of that campaign, 10.2 hectares of land were transferred back to the city, which paved the way for developing the Ulaanbaatar Park implemented by Rio Tinto, the design of which I ended up leading. ”
Could you explain how Rio Tinto ended up funding the Ulaanbaatar Park?
In 2022, Rio Tinto (RT) offered, as part of its CSR activities, to create a green space in the city. The city offered the park land since it was near the RT office, leading to the agreement that RT would develop the new park. In October 2022, Rio Tinto announced a tender to implement their philanthropic initiative on the transferred land. Within a month, 14 interested companies submitted concept ideas - our company actually submitted two. In the second stage, three companies were shortlisted, each presenting their concepts to RT. In late January 2023, our firm was selected. On February 1, 2023, we signed the contract, and by March 1 we had finished our concept and schematic designs for city approval. From March 1, we spent three months on the concept design. The park site had largely been unused for 10 or 20 years - it used to be a stadium and later served as a makeshift landing pad for helicopters. We studied old drone footage—especially from winter—to see where people naturally walked, then opened five or six new pathways and formed them in an “egg shape” connecting existing trees. We call that a “life experience,” because it adapts to how people actually move through a space.
What plan and management did your team have while working on the Ulaanbaatar Park project?
Our firm usually works on projects in Yarmag, and we had done very little in the city center. But since we were also interested in green spaces and landscaping, we decided to try our luck, not really believing that we’d get selected. Because the timeline was so tight, we were under significant pressure. At that time, Rio Tinto had no in-house construction experts, so the project was challenging for them. It was initially set to open in July 2023, in time for Naadam, but issues with bidding, materials, and so forth pushed it back to Lunar New Year 2024, then ultimately by a full year to June 2024. Until the very end, I personally oversaw the site, visiting two or three days a week to inspect progress.
I assume more than two companies were involved overall, not just yours and the construction company?
Yes. There was one that handled the roads and major structures, while separate companies did turf planting, tree planting, wooden canopies, etc.—in total, there were more than ten companies that followed our drawings. Rio Tinto managed the overall implementation and supervised the construction. We also had to work with the government too - at one point, city officials made an error drawing the cadastral map, which led to certain delays as well.
Speaking of the government, if the government had done this project, it might have turned out differently, no? How did you feel about a private entity building a public park?
The national budget is always tight - state-run projects go through a tender process where the lowest bid usually wins, which usually leads to cheaper materials and lower-quality buildings. State-funded schools, hospitals, or public facilities might start crumbling after just a few years. In contrast, private developers with their own financing can invest more in quality, since they must protect their brand and return on investment. I imagine if the government had built this park, it might have been reminiscent of the standard of the roads in our city—which leave a lot to be desired. So in developing Ulaanbaatar Park, Rio Tinto introduced a new standard in Mongolia, making people feel like they’re abroad. Although it’s only 10.2 hectares—a relatively small area—it demonstrated what’s possible to have in Mongolia.
Maybe in Ulaanbaatar or in Mongolia at large, we could rely on the private sector more to revitalize our living environment.
In some sense, outsourcing these projects to private entities is correct. For example, if our heating and electric plants had been privatized, maybe we’d see a different level of service by now (or it could have been worse—who knows?). The downside of private endeavors is that private companies might insert their own preferences or agendas. Still, Ulaanbaatar Park turned out so well mainly because Rio Tinto is an international company with its own global standards.
Do you think a Mongolian private company alone is capable of undertaking a project like this?
From what I’ve seen, Oyu Tolgoi’s entry into Mongolia significantly elevated construction and labor safety standards. At Oyu Tolgoi (OT), people are required to follow strict procedures—if the site speed limit is 5 km/h, they really do keep to 5 km/h. Once you leave the OT site, you won’t see that level of discipline in the “real” Mongolia since basic safety rules and labor standards are barely enforced in Mongolia. Theoretically, if our laws and regulations were enforced that rigorously across the board, the city would be much better organized. We just haven’t managed to do it yet, and that’s why Ulaanbaatar feels chaotic.
Actually, the main contractor that built Ulaanbaatar Park had worked for OT before, so they already had these standards in place and enforced those standards until the project was completed. The public wasn’t allowed on-site until it was fully ready. In case of an accident, they halted work, held a safety meeting, and did fire-safety briefings. Had it been a local Mongolian firm without OT experience, the result might have been different. That level of organization is rare in Mongolia’s construction sector, but it’s how OT operates. Before this project, even our firm had never prepared construction documents by OT standards, so while drawing up the park’s plans, we’ve learned so much.
Given that Mongolia is the coldest capital in the world, with very harsh winters, how did you accommodate that in your design?
Mongolia’s temperatures can range from +40°C to -40°C, around a 80-degree difference. Outdoor activities in winter can be nearly impossible. However, building a heated enclosure conflicted with our “green park” concept. Therefore, our main goal became to create a thoroughfare for people walking through the area. There’s high pedestrian flow from the south side toward Khonin Nuur, so we designed a 7-meter-wide walkway for barrier-free passage. Also, we do keep the restrooms open year-round (laughs).
I have another related question - in summers, we often get severe floods, so did you specifically plan any flood mitigation measures?
Yes. When we started the project, there was a flooding incident in 2021. Right after the flood, we flew a drone over the park site, and we noticed that there was no standing water—everything had soaked into the ground. We learned that the soil was a riverbed-type gravelly sand, and if it rains, within one or two hours, the water is absorbed. Also, since the park is situated at a lower level, we couldn’t connect to the city’s storm drains. Therefore, we developed a design to collect all the rainwater on-site and let it seep into the ground. We ended up creating a pond to store the drained water and use it for irrigation, and incorporating bio-retention areas where water can naturally percolate into the soil. If you notice, the amphitheater area is basically designed for infiltration—the ground is intentionally cut so water seeps down. The pond gathers water from the main pathways, stores up to 2,000 cubic meters, then that same water can be used in the irrigation system. There was one construction oversight, though. After planting grass (which helps absorb water), we hadn’t allowed enough time for the grass to take hold before letting people walk on it. As a result, the new grass got trampled before taking root in some areas, and we lost some of its water-absorbing capacity.
What feature are you proudest of adding to the park?
There are just so many things. To start off with, I’m proud to have brought a lush green space to the city center - we actually planted around 4,700 saplings from about 30 different tree species. Some critics accused us of cutting down trees in forests and relocating them to the city. However, we actually moved smaller trees from overly dense forest areas and nurseries, creating a “forest” feel right in downtown. We also designed the park with vehicular roads, pedestrian walkways, and concrete barriers, so by planting trees on top of these barriers, traffic noise is minimized at pedestrian level. Currently, the shrubs haven’t grown much yet, but in a year or two, when they reach their full height, the combined height of 2.5 meters will effectively block noise. Essentially, more green space makes a city feel cleaner and more inviting.
We also incorporated various design influences. Historically, Mongolian, Chinese, and Japanese temple styles often overlap, sharing many common features. Our client was open to blending “Mongolian” elements with modern architecture. For example, we used triangular wooden structures reminiscent of traditional roofs and adapted them into modern pavilions.
Additionally, I really dislike the typical city toilets—those ugly concrete boxes. So, we designed a smaller, more aesthetically pleasing building equipped with composting systems, monitoring, and staff to keep it clean. Unfortunately, some people in Mongolia still vandalize or misuse facilities by stealing soap or leaving a mess. To address this, we used durable, easy-to-clean concrete and applied an anti-graffiti coating that allows us to wash away any spray paint with a pressure washer.
We also wanted to provide drinking water to the public, so we put up drinking fountains and connected them to the central water line, had the water tested, and ensured that it was safe for human consumption. However, we noticed that children ended up being super unsanitary like spitting or washing their hands in the water fountains (laughs).
Another challenge has been dealing with kids on scooters. They often ride anywhere they want, disrupting the calm pedestrian environment. On the opening day of the park, I even ended up yelling at children, “Don’t ride scooters here; step off and walk!” So we installed “No Scooter” signs at the entrances, but people ignore them.
We just haven’t developed the habits yet to interact with these kinds of public spaces. Any other interesting tidbits about the park?
We installed a 60-meter-tall State Flag in the Park—the tallest flagpole in Mongolia. The flag is visible from the State Palace and spans an impressive 8 by 16 meters. The site we chose is perfect since it’s in the middle of the city and can be seen from most locations. Most importantly, the main pole can rotate at its base, so when there’s no wind, it pivots to prevent the flag from wrapping around the pole. Also, before, Mongolia celebrated “Flag Day” on July 10, which was the only day we could raise the national flag by law. However, the law has been updated, allowing the flag to be displayed every day.
I wasn’t even aware we had specific laws about when we could raise the national flag. Anyway, what was the biggest lesson you learned from working on this project?
The main takeaway was seeing how a design drawing is actually implemented on a construction site—how it transitions from paper to reality. As architects, we often create drawings but rarely see them enforced exactly as designed on-site;. This time, I had to explain to contraction teams, like “These lines exist for a reason. If we build exactly to these specifications, the project will turn out as planned.” So, I stayed on-site during each phase, checking every detail in person. Through this project, I learned how to communicate effectively and translate drawings into something construction workers can easily understand.
Future Blueprint
How does it feel to work in the architecture industry as the construction sector is one of the most stable sectors during economic downturns?
We've experienced downturns since 2013, a brief improvement before COVID, and are going through a bit of a slump now. Furthermore, more architectural firms have emerged, increasing the competition. However, we focus on fewer but more substantial projects, which keeps us busy. However, architects who work solely in design or drafting firms aren’t very highly paid because Mongolia has a state-set “reference rate” for design work. In other countries, big-name firms can set their own prices based on their brand reputation, but here companies often undercut each other, lowering design fees and ultimately affecting quality. This impacts both buildings and architects negatively.
Right now, there are several government “mega projects” underway. One of them is the “Selbe Khothon,” right? Any thoughts on them?
In my view, Mongolia can’t keep up with supplying enough heat and electricity for all these new building projects. In general, each time a new apartment block is built, the heating requirement goes up. You apply for a “heat supply permit,” but since the plants are already overloaded, it’s a big risk. Add to that the power usage—without new stations, we’ll eventually face a day when we just don’t have enough electricity and heat. That’s why there’s talk of reform, raising electricity prices, etc. People use electricity for everything—laundry, daily living—yet electricity is cheaper than phone bills. It’s unsustainably cheap. So we’re already overloading our thermal power plants, which are operating at roughly 100–120% capacity—essentially full tilt. Ideally, you want 20–30% spare capacity, but there’s none here. This means if something breaks down for even a day, we’re in trouble.
Instead of purely focusing on apartment buildings, we should consider how people can live comfortably on their own fenced plots. Gers can become a kind of “passive building” that requires virtually no traditional heating system—just a specialized device that uses very little energy, possibly harnessing solar power. Furthermore, once you incorporate solutions for wastewater in the fenced plots, like septic or filtration systems that break down sewage into compost, you can reuse the resulting water for irrigation. If we had widespread support for that kind of infrastructure, the load on the city’s utilities and related issues like air pollution would be significantly eased. Of course, the main objection is that such “eco-friendly” systems can have higher initial investment costs—they require installation, solar components, etc. People living in ger districts haven’t really been taught such methods. If the government or lenders offered financing for these energy-efficient solutions, we could more effectively tackle the air pollution problem.
Based on what we’ve been discussing, it's obvious that our city is still very young, and there are a lot of things for us still to learn and improve. What else should be considered in urban planning, in your opinion?
Yes, European cities have centuries of history, constantly updating and refining their systems. In contrast, we only began truly developing around 1920, and especially from the 1990s onward. So perhaps it’s only natural that mistakes happen. We also don’t have robust oversight yet. We recently repaved many roads, but if they have any flaws, it seems we just accept them as normal. Right now in Mongolia, we often dedicate land for roads or parking but neglect sidewalks, leading people to prefer driving, which still yet leads to everyone being stuck in their cars and worsening congestion. If our sidewalks were better, more people would walk, right? But we lack standards and oversight, and we keep tolerating these oversights that directly affect our quality of life. In contrast, when building the Ulaanbaatar Park, we insisted on no margin of error—even down to 1 millimeter—and carefully mapped out every elevation point. Yes, of course some errors still crept in since the schedule was very tight, but we said, “We won’t accept this—tear it down” and even tore out some concrete roads and fences twice because of errors. Once workers saw that, they realized, “Okay, this must be done with serious supervision.”
So how does the future of Ulaanbaatar look to you? Will we reach certain standards, or does that still seem out of reach?
Right now, there’s talk about new standards for roads in Ulaanbaatar, such as using stone curbs intended to handle water drainage. It’s a step forward that they’re starting to plan for it in an integrated way, so it’s a form of progress. But the problem is they haven’t paid attention to everything else—like road quality, building quality, and standards in other areas. They’re basically saying, “If we use stone curbs instead of concrete, they’ll last ten times longer.” That might be true, but you can’t just focus on one improvement and ignore all the other problems.
The same goes for the construction sector. If they decided to follow consistent standards, then Mongolia could have already developed into a city with uniform standards. Some private companies are actively trying to do this, but real progress depends on national policies, city planning, and leadership by government officials. Unfortunately, we still see a major shortfall: investors or clients demand whatever they want, and no one says, “No, you can’t do that.” Under a proper system, the government would play a strong role in enforcing standards and regulations. But that oversight is missing. The people supposed to carry out inspections and hold projects accountable lack the necessary expertise or willpower. That’s why you see effective oversight only when entities like Rio Tinto or Oyu Tolgoi (OT) enforce it themselves; they have the systems and insist on quality and safety measures. Going forward, we need similar enforcement at the national level if we want to see real improvement.
Can you tell me more about Mongolia’s building standards and codes?
Most official standards date back to what we inherited from the USSR in the 1990s. They’ve been slightly updated and nudged toward international standards, but they’re still based on the USSR system since many of our architects and engineers primarily studied there. Some Russian norms are good, but others are outdated when it comes to modern materials and technologies. The same issue of oversight also comes into play here - around 2012, there was a huge construction boom here and people just started building without strictly following codes or ensuring quality. As a result, some buildings aren’t suitable in terms of climate or meeting residents’ needs.
And personally, what do you want to work on in the future?
One of my goals is to showcase Mongolian architecture abroad—something that’s designed by a Mongolian, built internationally, so that people can say, “Yes, Mongolian architects are really talented, and Mongolia has these capabilities.” On my end, I see Kazakhstan as having real potential as an importer of Mongolian architectural designs.
On the other hand, are there any places that you want to visit or architecture you want to import to Mongolia?
Rather than specific buildings, I’m more interested in visiting the architectural studios themselves, such as Bjarke Ingels’, who has very unique works. In general, I drew inspiration from renowned architects such as Tadao Ando, Renzo Piano, and Norman Foster, studying their projects and philosophies through books in my company’s library. People might know some of their famous buildings, like Tadao Ando’s buildings (“Tetcher Life” in Japan) or the small Japanese temples where a particular lighting effect is the main feature.
What advice would you give to newcomers in the field?
After working for eight years, I feel like I’m finally at a point where I can give genuine advice to new graduates and people just entering the field. I’m by no means perfect, but I do have a solid grasp of what it’s like to be an architect in Mongolia, how a building project starts and how it ends. Architecture is not just drafting pictures—it’s about properly organizing the spaces where people live and spend time. That means mastering design, concept creation, and understanding how projects evolve over long periods. I recommend keeping a pocket notebook to jot down your ideas; otherwise, you’ll forget them. It’s not just for drawings; you can write, take notes, analyze how other buildings or stores operate, and so on. In a lecture, they say you’ll forget 50% of the content after 50 minutes. Similarly, if you try to convey a design to a client using only words, it might not stick, so visual aids, sketches, and clear explanations help them truly grasp the concept.
Well, thank you for the great interview - I’ve learned a lot. Lastly, is there anyone else we should interview from Hobby School?
I’d like to recommend interviewing my classmate Tuvshin. In 2014, he established his own travel company and has been contributing, even in small ways, to promoting Mongolia’s culture and heritage to the world. Since then, he has launched and managed several startups, including UB Passport, showcasing his entrepreneurial spirit and dedication.
One of my goals is to showcase Mongolian architecture abroad—something that’s designed by a Mongolian, built internationally, so that people can say, “Yes, Mongolian architects are really talented, and Mongolia has these capabilities.”