Architects do not always have the best reputation when it comes to listening.
Our profession has, at times, earned the perception that we arrive with the answer already in mind. Sometimes fairly, sometimes unfairly, architects are seen as more interested in the building we want to design than the problem a client actually needs solved.
That is not a reputation any of us should be comfortable with.
At MSA Design, we work differently.
Not because design excellence does not matter. It absolutely does. Our mission – “We design exceptional experiences and spaces” - is something we take seriously. But exceptional design does not begin with the architect’s ego. It starts with listening. Real listening. The kind that forces us to slow down, understand the pressures behind the project, and respect the people who will live with the results long after the presentation is over.
That is also where our vision “Exceptional People. Inspired Experiences. Enduring Impact.” becomes more than a statement on a wall. If those words are going to mean anything, they have to show up in the daily work: how we listen, how we run a meeting, how we make decisions, and whether the finished project actually serves people well.
I have been doing this long enough to know that the first answer in the design process is rarely the full answer. Clients often come to us with a space problem, a budget problem, a schedule problem, or a building that no longer works the way it should.
Those issues are real. But the deeper issue usually takes some digging.
The Discipline of Listening First
When a client chooses to work with us, our first goal is not to sell them on “our” building. Our first goal is to understand their mission, their operations, their culture, their budget, their schedule, and what success looks like for them.
Only then do we begin to lead.
I often describe what we do internally as a culture of intentional listening. That may sound a little formal, but it matters. Listening cannot be something we claim after the fact. It has to be built into the process from the beginning.
Most good projects start with better questions.
What problem are we really solving? Who uses this space every day? What is working now, and what is getting in the way? What does the organization need today, and what will it need ten or twenty years from now? How should this project make people feel when they arrive? What should be easier, clearer, more welcoming, or more useful because this project exists?
We do not show up with a style looking for a project.
MSA Design does not have a “look” we stamp onto every client or every building. That might be easier. It would also miss the point.
A civic facility like the new Gahanna Municipal Center should not look or feel like the Calhoun & Siddall Residence Halls at the University of Cincinnati. A neighborhood gathering place like McDonald Commons in Madeira should not feel like a #MACtion training facility at the University of Toledo. A house of worship should not feel like a stadium.
Each project has different users, different pressures, different stories, and different responsibilities to the community around it.
Our job is to help discover the right solution for each client and each place. Sometimes that means a bold architectural move. Sometimes it means solving an operations problem no one has been able to name. Sometimes it means helping a client make sense of competing priorities. The best answer is not always the loudest answer.
For all of us at MSA, that is when the mission becomes real - when the building works better, the experience feels better, and the community gains something lasting.
From First Conversation to Ribbon Cutting
Design always starts with a conversation. Every project is different, but most follow a similar path.
The names of the phases matter, but what matters more is the discipline behind them: keep listening, keep testing assumptions, keep communicating, and do not let clients get surprised by decisions that should have been discussed earlier.
We begin with discovery and visioning. This is where we listen, ask questions, walk existing facilities, review constraints, meet stakeholders, and try to understand the real drivers behind the project. Sometimes the stated need is “more space,” but the deeper issue may be visibility, operations, technology, recruitment, deferred maintenance, or simply a building that no longer reflects the quality of the organization inside it.
From there, we move into concept design. This is where ideas begin to take shape. We test options. We study relationships between spaces. We look at sites, access, image, cost, phasing, and experience. At this stage, we are not trying to force a final answer too quickly. We are trying to create the right conversation around the right possibilities.
Then comes design development, where the preferred direction becomes more specific. Plans are refined. Materials are studied. Building systems are coordinated. Cost and constructability become more detailed. The project starts to move from aspiration to reality.
After that, we prepare construction documents - the detailed drawings and specifications needed for permitting, pricing, and construction. This phase is highly technical, but it is also where many important decisions are locked into place. Good coordination here protects the vision later.
Finally, during construction administration, we remain involved as the project moves into the field. We answer questions, review submittals, visit the site, coordinate with the contractor, and help maintain the design intent while responding to real-world conditions.
A small renovation may move quickly. A major building, campus master plan, or phased facility transformation - like the multi-project campus transformation we have been a part of at Xavier University - may take decades. Either way, the process should never feel mysterious to the client. Our responsibility is to keep people informed, prepared, and confident as decisions are made.
When “More Space” Is Not the Real Answer
We run into this more often than people might think.
A congregation came to us a few years ago with what sounded like a simple facilities problem: “We’ve outgrown the building.”
That was true, but it was not the whole story.
After listening, walking the facility, and spending time with the people who used it every day, we realized the project was not really about expanding square footage. The front door felt dated and uninviting. Weekday operations and Sunday worship events were difficult to navigate through the existing entry sequence. The lobby felt cramped and disorienting to first-time guests. On paper, the building “worked.” In practice, the building was not telling the right story about the mission and vision of the people inside.
The eventual solution still included renovation, but not the expansion everyone first imagined. Instead, the project became a complete façade transformation, paired with new outdoor gathering space. The result helped a century-old campus better reflect the spirit, identity, and mission of the community it serves.
That is a different kind of problem to solve. It requires drawings, of course. It also requires patience, trust, and a willingness to ask better questions.
The result was not just a better-looking building. It was a better-functioning organization, a better experience for staff and parishioners, and a better contribution to its surroundings.
We see some version of this again and again, across very different project types.
The experience is not separate from the building. It is the reason the building exists.
What Sport Teaches Us About Experience
Our sports work has probably taught us this lesson as clearly as anything.
In athletics, nobody experiences buildings in the abstract. A locker room either helps a team feel prepared or it does not. A concourse either makes game day better or it frustrates people. A training space either supports performance and wellness, or it becomes another compromise coaches and athletes have to work around.
We have seen that across our MSA Sport work - from professional venues and training facilities to Division I athletics, small colleges, and high schools doing ambitious work with real purpose.
Our team puts it simply: we design spaces that help programs Train, Compete, and Succeed™.
But that way of thinking is not limited to athletics. Design shapes experience. It communicates identity. It tells people, sometimes quietly and sometimes boldly, what an organization values.
That same discipline applies to a civic center, residence hall, workplace, chapel, classroom building, community park, or public facility.
The market changes. The responsibility does not.
The Words That Mean the Most
Of course, we love it when clients tell us the final project looks beautiful. Every designer wants to hear that.
But the comments that stay with me are usually the simpler ones.
“What I appreciate most about the team at MSA Design is their willingness to understand the spirit and values behind a project - not just the programmatic or technical requirements.”
“I believe that everybody on the MSA team truly cared about the success of our project, and more importantly, cared about us. To have a designer that listens to you is invaluable.”
“The staff are fun to be around, easy to work with, and extremely helpful and knowledgeable. Any organization would be lucky to be able to work with them.”
Those comments matter because they are not really about the rendering or the finish material. They are about values, mission, listening, and ultimately the integrity of our team.
Architecture is never just about the building. At its best, the design process is about trust - the kind built through hard questions, clear decisions, and a process where the client can see how and why decisions are being made.
That is where enduring impact begins. Not with a rendering. Not with a style. Not with an architect’s signature move. It begins when a client feels ownership in the solution, and when the finished project serves people well long after the ribbon is cut.
Where We Begin
The best time to bring a design partner into the conversation is early - before the path becomes too narrow and before important decisions are already locked in.
At MSA Design, we are grateful to every client who invites us into that process. We know the investment matters. We know the schedule matters. We know the design matters. Most importantly, we know the people matter.
If you are considering a new project, renovation, master plan, or long-term facility strategy, we would welcome the opportunity to listen first, think with you, and help shape what comes next.
The building matters, of course. But the building is not the whole point.
The real goal is to leave people and communities better than we find them. That is the standard we are trying to meet - not with a signature style, and not with a predetermined answer, but through a process that starts by listening and ends with something people can truly use, value, and recognize as their own.
There is a line often attributed to John Wesley that begins, “Do all the good you can,” and ends, “as long as ever you can.”
I have always liked the spirit of that. At our best, I see that same spirit across MSA - in the way our architects, interior designers, graphic designers, preservationists, business team, and marketing team each bring their own talents to the work. Different roles. Different perspectives. One shared responsibility.
To listen well. To design with purpose. To help clients make good decisions. And, ultimately, to use design as one way of making a positive and lasting impact on the communities we serve.
That is where we begin.