We sat down with Idael Cárdenas, a designer at Finegold Alexander, to discuss his journey into architecture and the principles guiding his work. In this conversation, he shares how his early passion for artmaking developed into a focus on socially responsible design, informed by his personal history and a strong sense of place. Originally from Cuba, Idael’s research delves into the impact of the sugar industry on the island, exploring how our personal geographies are intertwined with the legacies of colonial-economic processes. A designer and writer, his work often merges the art of making with socially conscious architecture, weaving narrative into both. Professionally, Idael has contributed to a diverse range of projects, from high-end residential to historic adaptive reuse. He holds a Bachelor of Design, summa cum laude, from the University of Florida and a Master of Architecture with Distinction from Harvard University’s Graduate School of Design.

Q: What inspired you to become an architect/designer?

Since an early age, artmaking has been central to who I am. The process of creating—whether with a sliver of charcoal or a lump of acrylic paint—allows me to engage with spaces of my own making. And although architecture was not an obvious path, it always seemed tangential to the type of work I was interested in. Architects are worldbuilders. Consciously, we shape the built environments around us. But we are certainly not fantasists; buildings and the people that inhabit them are real. So too are the consequences of middling design. Perhaps that is why my underlying passion for architecture has more to do with my upbringing.

I partly grew up in a suburban environment devoid of evocative public spaces, littered with factory-churned “spec” homes that offered scant diversity from neighbor to neighbor. There was no sense of placemaking. A lack of access to meaningful design—of any kind—proved to be my impetus to pursue architecture.

Q: Do you have any guiding design principles in your process?

Taking this into consideration, it is no surprise what my guiding design principle is: context. What makes a place distinct? Placemaking may be defined as, "the way in which all human beings transform the places they find themselves into the places where they live."[1] A place, dissected, may mean patterns of space utilization, material sensibility, or even imbued cultural and sentimental value. As humans we long to fit in and to inhabit places well embedded in our contextually rich milieus. Thus, placemaking extends beyond simply the architecture—the place—and instead, resonates with our innate humanity.

Having proposed projects in built environments as diverse as New York City to Onomichi, Japan, I have assumed the designer’s responsibility to these notions of context. And closer to home, my current research lies in the ramifications of the sugar industry in Cuba, investigating how in more ways than one, our personal geographies are inherently linked to the legacies of colonial-economic processes. Architecture, and by proxy our cites, are a part of this legacy. As such, my work deals intimately with the art-of-making and socially responsible design rooted in context.    

[1](Schneekloth, Lynda H., and G. Shibley. Placemaking the Art and Practice of Building Communities. New York: John Wiley & Sons, 1995)

Q: What have been some of your career highlights/proudest achievements so far?

The culmination of this work has been investigating the histories of my family and hometown—simultaneously, the most unexpected and meaningful highlights of my career thus far. The work explores Cuba’s iconic agricultural artifact, el central (the sugar-mill). It is a project deeply rooted in creole histories, memories, dreams, and imaginations of those either directly or implicitly involved in Cuba’s sugar industry. It problematizes a commodity in a post-colonial context and posits sugar more broadly as a cultural asset entangled within an architectural typology. With the generosity of Harvard’s David Rockefeller Center for Latin American Studies (DRCLAS), I traveled back home to Cuba for my investigation.

I was able to visit the surrounding region of my hometown for two weeks in July of 2023. Originally, I had planned to conduct my primary research in the nearby batey (sugar mill town) of Abel Santamaría. However, my plans unraveled as access to the site was severely hindered by security checks and overall bureaucratic suspicion. Due to the topic of my thesis, primarily focused on state-owned centrales, research is severely restricted for tourists, foreign nationals (even if Cuban-born, such as myself) and citizens alike. Yet, I was granted limited access to these sites via connections with relatives and family friends. The large network of support I was able to rely on was the most inspiring and humbling aspect of my travels.

Trekking to and from the batey proved to be another major obstacle and my research pivoted as a result. My construal of the batey’s relationship to the central broadened to include the territory under its influence; a mosaic of railroads, accessways, agricultural fields, satellite communities, and even the coastline where sugar was packed and shipped to other ports in the country and beyond. I was able to document this patchwork mosaic not only through photographs, but stories. These were told (and continue to be told) by a diverse set of voices from retirees, campesinos (country folk), security guards, friends, doctors, and relatives. All of which have been impacted or contributed to the economic machine of the central—its tendrils running deeper than I could have ever imagined.

Ultimately, presenting my findings to experts and my family was enormously rewarding. But the work remains incomplete, and I look forward to continuing my research as my career becomes enmeshed with the praxis of architecture.

You may learn more about my trip in this published article: The Territory of Memory from a Land of Sugar: Cas-cal, Cas-cal | ReVista (harvard.edu)

Q: If you could give advice to a young designer, what would you say?

Do not rule out anything. Often, inspiration dwells where we least expect it.

Watch the video below to learn more about Idael Cárdenas!