Sebastian Loaiza is a Chilean architect and Director at CLOU architects, where he leads the firm’s communication strategy and architectural branding. Since joining CLOU in 2013, he has played a central role in shaping the office’s design identity and overseeing several projects and competitions across Asia, including Play Stack Shenyang, Capitaland Nuohemule, Starry Street Wuhou, and Jinmao Sanya FarmLab.
Loaiza holds a Bachelor’s degree in Architecture in 2012 and a Diploma with a Distinction in Architecture in 2014 from the Universidad de Chile. In 2020, he was named World Young Architect of the Year, recognizing his growing international presence.
Sebastian Loaiza has guided the design of mixed-use, commercial, and public spaces characterized by a strong emphasis on social engagement and spatial narrative. Play Stack, one of the firm’s most awarded projects, exemplifies this direction through its layered, multi-programmatic approach to urban retail and public life. His work has contributed significantly to CLOU’s growing recognition and was recently featured in the office’s 2022 monograph Social Space, a 500-page volume capturing the firm’s built and conceptual output over the past decade.
Loaiza’s design approach bridges cultural context, architectural clarity, and user-centric thinking, establishing his role not only as a communicator of architecture but as a key driver of its spatial evolution.
What inspires you?
I don’t look for inspiration in a romantic sense. I pay attention to what’s already there, the ordinary, the overlooked, the systems we’ve stopped questioning. Cities fascinate me because they are real machines, layers of history, contradiction, and improvisation. I’m especially drawn to Asian cities, where the pace and contrasts are intense, the chaos, the cleanliness, the energy, the inconsistencies. What inspires me most is seeing how people reshape space over time. The second life of a building, once it’s handed over and becomes part of daily life, is where the real testing begins. Some buildings are used exactly as we imagined, others are not, and that’s perfectly fine. The real potential lies in those unexpected gaps. What matters is how architecture works with or against these realities.
What inspired you to become an architect?
Architecture wasn’t a childhood calling. I had a wide range of interests growing up. I painted, gardened, grew vegetables, was fascinated by nature, birds, and biology. I loved film and photography, but dreaded maths. I was always making things, always curious. What drew me to architecture was how it offered a lens to engage with everything: politics, psychology, material culture, and economics. It’s the most synthetic of disciplines. The appeal wasn’t just about building, but about thinking spatially.
How would you describe your design philosophy?
I don’t subscribe to a fixed philosophy. Context changes, so the response must too. I prefer working with constraints rather than chasing ideals. A project should begin with a clear-eyed reading of its conditions, social, environmental, economic, and cultural. From there, we ask questions. What kind of space is genuinely needed? What kind of programme could shift the status quo? Can architecture avoid becoming mere decoration?
What is your favourite project?
That depends on the lens you use. Some projects succeed in spatial terms, others programmatically, others as provocations. I’m most drawn to projects that question typologies, that rethink how we live. Those that shift how a building is used or understood tend to stay with me. In terms of built work, my favourites change over time. For a while, it was the HSBC Tower in Hong Kong, a radical reinvention of the office.
What is your favourite detail?
I don’t believe in fetishising detail. Architecture isn’t couture. The whole must make sense before the part carries weight. That said, I appreciate moments where a detail shifts behaviour, a bench that invites unexpected use, or a circulation path that redefines how people interact. Small moves, big effects.
Do you have a favourite material?
Not really. Materials on their own don’t interest me. It’s how they’re used that matters. A luxurious material used predictably says very little. A cheap material used with intelligence can completely transform a space. I’m drawn to ambiguity, materials that are hard to classify, that challenge assumptions about finish, cost, or permanence.
What is your process for starting a new project?
We begin with research. We study the forces at play: historical, economic, geographical, and cultural. We don’t begin with form; we begin with analysis. From that, we test ideas that respond to those findings. Each project should generate its logic. There’s no fixed recipe. The process isn’t linear. We test, we fail, we try again. We discover new things by working, not by waiting for a solution to appear. Forms emerge as tools to serve the space and the programme.
How do you fuel your creativity?
By looking outside of architecture. The discipline suffers when it only talks to itself. I try to read widely, I enjoy popular culture, and I find photography particularly useful. It teaches you how to look, how to see. Travel is another way I learn, not just to see buildings, but to understand how places work. Creativity isn’t about waiting for ideas to land. It’s a discipline of attention.
What inspired the Chengdu Hongmeng Showroom?
Most showrooms are about containment and spectacle. We wanted to invert that logic. Our goal was to create a space that communicates openness rather than exclusivity. The façade works like a veil, not a wall. It hints at transparency and permeability, a showroom that connects to the city rather than isolates from it.
How did the materiality of Sanya Farm Lab come together?
The materiality of Sanya Farm Lab was entirely driven by function and performance. Sanya’s climate demanded a response to heat, light, and humidity. The double skin was not a stylistic move, but a way to filter sunlight, reduce heat, and create a shaded transitional space between indoors and out. The building appears lightweight, but its logic is rigorous, rooted in performance.
How did the public embrace Sanya Farm Lab?
They took ownership of Sanya Farm Lab, which is always a good sign. It wasn’t treated like a showroom or a museum, but something useful, a place to gather, relax, and do business. That kind of public appropriation is the real test of architecture. The space was designed to evolve. It began as a sales gallery, but we hope in its second life it continues to add value to the area.
What advice would you give to young architects?
Don’t chase originality, chase relevance. Pay close attention to what already exists. Learn from outside disciplines. Avoid style for the sake of it. Architecture should not only be a means of self-expression. It’s a tool that frames how we live. The world is full of buildings. Imagine if every one of them genuinely contributed to the city. Also, don’t be afraid to fail fast. If something isn’t working, it probably won’t. Move on. You find what works by doing, not by overthinking. At least that works for me.
