Our Lady La Vang
This project represents one of the most meaningful intersections of architecture, faith, memory, and community that I have had the privilege to be part of.
The Our Lady of La Vang Shrine was conceived not as a traditional monument, but as a modern sacred space that speaks through restraint, material integrity, and form. From the beginning, the intent was clear. This would not be a nostalgic reconstruction of historical religious architecture. Instead, it would be a contemporary interpretation of devotion, one that acknowledges the past while standing firmly in the present. The result is an architecture of clarity and permanence, where meaning is carried by light, structure, and material rather than ornament.
The shrine sits within the Christ Cathedral campus in Garden Grove, a site already defined by modernist ideals and architectural ambition. It was essential that the new shrine belong to this context without competing with it. The design does this through geometry and discipline. The alpha-shaped ribbon of stainless steel panels wraps the site in a continuous, flowing gesture. It is both enclosure and procession, guiding visitors inward while remaining open to the sky. The form is unmistakably modern, yet deeply symbolic. It evokes shelter, protection, and gathering, themes central to the story of Our Lady of La Vang.
At the heart of the shrine stands the statue of the Virgin Mary, carved from Italian white marble. She is depicted as she appeared in 1798, wearing a traditional Vietnamese áo dài and khăn đống, holding the Baby Jesus, standing on a cloud. The scale is deliberate. At twelve feet tall and weighing approximately sixteen thousand pounds, the statue carries a physical gravity that anchors the space. It is not elevated through excessive ornamentation, but through proportion, stillness, and light. The marble will endure for generations, its surface aging with dignity, reinforcing the idea that sacred architecture should be built for a lifetime and beyond.
Above Mary, the glass canopy is supported by three primary structural poles. These elements are both literal and symbolic. Structurally, they hold the roof. Symbolically, they reference the three banyan trees present during the original Marian apparition in the rainforest of La Vang. The canopy itself filters daylight downward, creating a constantly changing atmosphere as the sun moves across the sky. Light becomes a material in its own right, reinforcing the spiritual narrative without relying on explicit iconography.
Material selection throughout the project was guided by longevity and honesty. The stainless steel panels that define the shrine were chosen not only for their durability, but for their timelessness. Stainless steel does not pretend to be something else. It reflects its environment subtly, shifting with the sky, the trees, and the movement of people. Over time, it will weather gracefully, retaining its integrity while recording the passage of years. These panels intentionally recall the stainless steel cladding used by Richard Meier in several of his seminal works, including the nearby Cathedral itself. This connection grounds the shrine within a lineage of modernist architecture that values clarity, precision, and permanence.
The shrine walls also serve as a place of remembrance. Inscribed within the stainless steel are the names of donors and the names of 117 Vietnamese Catholics who were martyred for their faith. Each name is accompanied by details of how and when each individual died. The architecture does not dramatize this sacrifice. Instead, it presents the information with quiet dignity, allowing visitors to engage at their own pace. The wall becomes a collective memory, transforming architecture into an act of witness.
As Architect of Record, my role was to ensure that this vision could be realized faithfully through permitting, documentation, and construction administration. Working alongside design architect Trần Quốc Trung of GlobalSolutions Development, the Diocese of Orange, and a deeply committed community, the project demanded precision and collaboration at every step. Sacred architecture leaves no room for shortcuts. Every decision carries weight, not just structurally, but spiritually and culturally.
The second phase of the project expands this vision into the Marian Gardens along the eastern edge of the site. These gardens introduce circular prayer niches, places for small gatherings and quiet reflection. The geometry continues the language of the shrine, reinforcing continuity rather than addition. Landscape, water, and light work together to soften the stainless steel forms, creating moments of intimacy within the larger composition. The gardens acknowledge that faith is not only monumental, but personal.
What makes this project truly profound is its cultural significance. The shrine stands as a testament to the Vietnamese-American community, particularly in Orange County, home to the largest Vietnamese population outside of Vietnam. It tells a story of persecution, migration, resilience, and faith. Architecture becomes a vessel for that story, not through literal storytelling, but through space that invites gathering, reflection, and continuity.
Modern sacred architecture often struggles with relevance. Too often it either mimics historical forms or abandons meaning in favor of abstraction. This project demonstrates another path. By embracing modernism while honoring tradition, by choosing materials meant to last, and by allowing light and structure to carry symbolism, the shrine achieves a quiet power. It does not demand attention. It earns it.
In the end, the Our Lady of La Vang Shrine is not defined by any single element. It is defined by the relationship between form and faith, between permanence and hope. It is architecture that understands its responsibility, to the site, to the community, and to time itself.
