Crafting Tomorrow's Skylines with Yesterday's Soul
Founding Partner & Lead Architect
Started this whole thing back in '09 with nothing but a beat-up drafting table and way too much coffee. Still can't pass a brick facade without stopping to admire the mortar work.
Co-Founder & Heritage Director
Joined forces with Marcus after restoring her grandparents' century home. She's basically a detective for old buildings - can date a structure just by looking at the nail heads.
It wasn't some grand master plan, honestly. Just two architects who got tired of seeing Toronto's character getting bulldozed for cookie-cutter glass boxes.
Started in Marcus's apartment - well, technically the living room that we convinced his roommate to let us turn into a studio. Our first project? A three-story walkup renovation in Cabbagetown. The client took a chance on us because we were cheap and enthusiastic. We delivered something that actually made the neighborhood association write us a thank-you letter.
Finally got a proper space on King West. Nothing fancy - exposed brick that needed work (which Sofia insisted we restore properly, naturally), concrete floors, and windows that rattled when streetcars passed. But it was ours. Started hiring folks who actually knew what they were doing, which helped a lot.
Landed our first big commercial gig - converting an 1890s warehouse into mixed-use space. This one nearly killed us, not gonna lie. Discovered the original timber trusses were in way better shape than the '60s additions. Spent three months convincing the developer to let us strip back to the bones and do it right. When it won a heritage conservation award, Sofia cried. Marcus pretended he didn't.
Our first high-rise. Twenty-eight stories of residential that didn't look like every other glass tower in the city. Integrated sustainable systems that actually worked instead of just checking boxes for LEED points. The construction crew thought we were nuts for some of our detailing requirements, but when tenants started bragging about their hydro bills, everyone shut up real quick.
Moved into Suite 1200 - a whole floor, which felt insane. Team grew to thirty-something people who all somehow share our weird obsession with making buildings that respect where they are. We've got specialists now: folks who only do heritage stuff, others who geek out over curtain wall systems, a couple who spend all day modeling energy flows. It's pretty cool actually.
Sixteen years in and we're still figuring things out. Got seven major projects on the go - mix of new builds and restorations, which is exactly how we like it. Sofia still walks heritage sites with a tape measure and notebook. Marcus still sketches details by hand before anyone touches a computer. We argue about everything, which our team finds entertaining. But here's the thing - we give a damn about every brick, every beam, every sight line. Toronto's changing fast, and we're just trying to make sure it changes into something worth keeping.
Look, architecture's gotten kind of soulless in a lot of places. Everything's optimized for profit margins and Instagram shots. We're not against making money or taking a good photo, but there's gotta be more to it than that.
Every building's a conversation between what was, what is, and what could be. Old structures have stories in their walls - craftsmanship from folks who knew their trade inside out. New construction has the chance to push boundaries, try stuff that wasn't possible before. Why not do both?
We're not saving the world here. We're just a bunch of architects who think buildings should make their neighborhoods better, not worse. If we can pull that off more often than not, we're doing alright.
Can't just drop a building anywhere and call it a day. Gotta understand the neighborhood, the history, how people actually use the space. Sometimes that means saying no to clients who want something that'd stick out like a sore thumb.
Anybody can make something look cool in a rendering. Making it work in real life, with real budgets and real construction crews? That's the actual job. We sweat the details nobody sees because they're usually the ones that matter most.
Sustainable doesn't just mean solar panels and green roofs - though we do plenty of that. It's about making things that'll still be standing and useful fifty years from now. The greenest building is the one you don't have to tear down.
We'll tell you when your budget doesn't match your vision. We'll tell you when code makes your dream impossible. We'll tell you when we screwed something up. Nobody benefits from BS, and there's already too much of it in this industry.
Got something interesting brewing? Whether it's a heritage building that needs love or a new tower that shouldn't look like all the others, we're up for a conversation.