From Construction Sites to Sensory Spaces: The Transformative Path of Sam Donyagard

In this edition of Alumni Insights, we meet Sam Donyagard, whose architectural journey began not in a classroom, but on real-world construction sites at just seventeen. Guided by early hands-on experience and a deep familial connection to architecture, Sam’s career evolved from executive leadership to a profound, emotionally driven approach to design.

His story is one of continuous transformation, marked by a shift from structural precision to sensorial storytelling. Influenced by Italian craftsmanship and the evocative power of interiors, Sam now views architecture not merely as the creation of buildings, but as an act of peace—a way to bring people together through spaces that inspire, comfort, and connect.

With a reflective voice and a keen eye for both composition and collaboration, Sam shares his challenges in mastering 3D visualization, his admiration for simplicity in design, and his belief in the future of collective creativity. His vision is both grounded and ambitious, culminating in a dream that transcends architecture: a global system of connection.

I was 17 when I took my first steps into the world of architecture, working at my father’s architectural firm.

My father, a PhD graduate from Florence University, placed me in the role of assistant to the executive director and on a construction site. It was an intense beginning, but as time passed, I grew into the role, eventually finding myself in the position of executive director. During those years, I was also studying for my bachelor’s degree, balancing education with real-world experience.

My passion for architecture led me to shift my focus, using my early executive experience to accelerate my understanding of design and its fundamental principles. After a decade in the field, I ventured into the world of interior design. This transition brought new colors to my architectural journey, especially when I connected with Italian furniture companies. Their craftsmanship and attention to detail fascinated me, and I began integrating their work into my projects.

It was through this exposure to Italian design that I discovered a new dimension of architecture, one that went beyond the structure itself and into the emotions it evoked. Designing a space was no longer just about its function or aesthetics, it was about how it made people feel. This realization led me to explore international collaborations, attend exhibitions like Salone del Mobile, and immerse myself in the world of interior design. With each new project, I saw architecture not just as a physical form but as a sensory experience, one that could tell a story and create lasting impressions.

In my mid-30s, something shifted.

I realized that my mission extended beyond designing buildings, it was about fostering an emotional connection between my work and the people who lived in and experienced these spaces. Architecture, at its core, is an act of peace. It is the opposite of destruction. It creates places where people gather, share experiences, and learn to appreciate diversity.

Renzo Piano once said, “An architect makes places for people.” This idea resonated with me profoundly. Every structure we build is a testament to human connection—a shelter for stories, conversations, and moments that shape our lives.

Let’s talk a bit about 3d visualization.

One of my challenges in 3D visualization was camera angles and composition. A captivating image isn’t just about the right lighting or materials; it requires an artistic perspective, an understanding of focal length, and the right framing. The way we present an industrial product is vastly different from how we capture the façade of a building or the intimacy of an artistic portrait. So then I dedicated time to an online course and then I practiced it, refining my ability to find the perfect viewports.

Looking back, I sometimes think that if I had studied graphic design, it would have significantly influenced my work as an interior designer.

Despite my admiration for high-end craftsmanship, I am not a materialist designer. I believe in the beauty of simplicity—using basic, honest materials to create meaningful spaces. As technology and artificial intelligence continue to evolve, I see a growing appreciation for environments that are stripped back to their essence. Spaces that prioritize human experience over excessive ornamentation will become even more valued in the future.

I also believe that inspirations are everywhere, sometimes in the most unexpected places.

They are not only found in the untouched beauty of a forest or on another planet. Cities themselves are shaped by mindset of those who came before us. Before they were buildings, they were empty lands, green spaces and then transformed by human vision and necessity.

Architecture, much like life, has moved beyond the era of the solitary genius. Today, the idea of a superhero leader is fading, replaced by the power of collective effort. If Paolo Maldini was once the star of Italy’s goal, today, an entire team works together to win the game. The same is true for architecture. So, let’s have a great belief in the word “acceptance”, which is a supercritical key in our story because every teamwork requires some particular form of acceptance and being accepted by all of its members, and this is an undeniable fact, especially in the field of architecture. Success comes not from one individual, but from a team that embraces collaboration and acceptance. We may not be able to be Michelangelo “alone”, but as a team, we can create something just as timeless.

And if I could fulfill one grand wish?

It would be to establish a global public transportation system, one that connects the world, funded by a shared contribution from all of humanity. A system that brings people together, just as architecture does, making the world more accessible and united.