about me:

Hi! My name is Al - short for Alison, not Artificial Intelligence ;).

Professionally, I am an architect whose current focus is the translation from design to construction – how a drawing becomes a building, and everything that gets negotiated, tested, and resolved along the way.

I've always had a deep appreciation for well-executed details and materials that engage the senses. I learn quickly, work smart, and enjoy coordinating with like-minded professionals and craftspeople who care as much about the execution as the idea.

Outside of the office, I am a food-loving adventurer, keen on exploring the world, be it on my own two feet or rolling on two wheels.

An example of this: a couple of years ago, I set out on a solo bikepacking trip from my home in Germany through the Balkans all the way to the west coast of Greece. It was, in a word, spectacular.

Beyond that, I'm into peanut butter and chocolate (especially together), graphic design, foreign languages, tactile textures, alliterations, clever t-shirts, and the occasional spontaneous dance session.

When I'm feeling creative, I sketch or write. I also enjoy photography, riding my bikes and lifting heavy weights. But above all else, I love good food, especially when shared with good friends!

philosophy:

The magic is in the translating of Design to Construction.

When I moved to Germany, I thought I was pretty fluent in the language. But outside of every day conversations, I struggled with the Fachsprache, the technical vocabulary of architecture. General fluency and professional fluency turned out to be two very different things, and both only came through practice: sitting in meetings, walking the site, getting lots of words wrong, adjusting, listening for what a word actually meant in context.

Architecture kinda works the same way. A drawing is a language too – one written in line weights, material descriptions, and details – and knowing how to design is not the same as knowing how to build. That translation happens on site, in the specific vocabulary of construction, and it's rarely fluid. There is a constant tension in the interpretation, and that tension can lead to a project’s success or demise.

That's why I care about both scales of a building. The impact of the built space is felt at the macro level – how it sits in its context, how it moves people through space – and at the micro level, in the details you can run your fingers over. I want to touch a material and feel the thought behind it: the joint that was considered, the transition that was resolved rather than hidden, the craftsmanship that shows a building was translated with care, not just assembled.

Over fifteen years of experience across various typologies has taught me this: architecture was never just about the design. It's about how it gets built and who builds it, down to the last detail.