Tiago Sá: “When you design a nursery, you impact dozens of lives every year”
Tiago Sá: “When you design a nursery, you impact dozens of lives every year”
Between departures and arrivals, we embark on the journey of Tiago Sá, an architect whose international path has taken him through cities like Prague, Paris, New York, and Copenhagen. Back in Porto, he founded SaStudio, where he designs community-focused buildings shaped by both the Portuguese sun and the northern lights of Iceland. He once dreamed of becoming a painter, but architecture stole his heart — and along the way, it has shaped a journey marked by growth, international competitions won (and many others lost), and a fair amount of stubbornness when he truly believes in an idea.
Hello, Tiago. Welcome to Out of Office.
Hello, Ana Luísa! Thank you so much for the invitation — it’s great to be here and share a bit of my story.
Can you start by telling us a bit about your journey up until joining UPTEC?
My professional journey began at the Faculty of Architecture of the University of Porto. I then did an Erasmus in Prague, in the Czech Republic, and my first job was an internship in Denmark. I returned to finish my thesis, but then headed abroad again — I worked for a while in China, then in Paris, and later spent about a year and a half in New York. After that, I went back to Copenhagen and completed an MBA in Architecture in Madrid. Eventually, I returned to Porto, where I opened my own studio.
So you’ve seen quite a bit of the world (laughs).
A little bit, yes.
For those who don’t know it, what exactly is Sastudio?
It’s an architecture studio focused on socially-driven projects. We try to avoid single-family housing as much as possible and instead focus on public infrastructure — nurseries, schools, senior centres, care homes, public spaces, libraries, and some urban planning.
Did you always want to have your own studio, or did that grow over time?
I think it starts a bit during university — that idea of the “author architect.” But in my case, it wasn’t really about that. My first internship was at one of my favourite studios, and I was incredibly lucky. Even though it carried the founder’s name, the structure was very horizontal — an intern’s opinion could carry as much weight as a partner’s. That made me feel like I could stay in that kind of environment forever. The only reason I left was that many of the projects didn’t resonate with me.
And that led you to create something of your own?
Exactly. There was a specific type of project I wanted to work on, and I felt that maybe the only way to focus on that was by building something myself. I started with a partner, but eventually our visions didn’t align, and he moved back to Italy. I continued on my own. Even those moments that seem negative turn out to be important — I probably wouldn’t have come back to Portugal and started from scratch if I had been alone from the beginning.
What makes an architect want to focus mainly on socially-driven projects?
I don’t think there’s a single answer, but for me, it’s about reach. When you design an apartment, it’s for one family. When you design a nursery, it’s for dozens of children every year — there’s a constant renewal of people and impact. I think it comes down to that: the scale of impact these projects can have on people’s lives.
How many people currently work at the studio?
We’re about half a dozen in Porto, and we have a similar-sized team at our partner studio in Iceland.
How has the studio’s journey been so far?
Erratic, like any company (laughs). In the beginning, we had to rely heavily on competitions — many of them unpaid, which is quite common in architecture, even though you don’t really see it in other professions. Since we wanted to work on public projects, that was the path. Only after building a portfolio did municipalities and institutions start taking us more seriously. And only now, after seven or eight years, are we starting to be invited to more limited competitions, rather than competing against dozens or even hundreds of studios.
What has been the best moment so far?
Probably the first competition we won. It happened right after COVID, at a very difficult time — many projects had been cancelled and we were left without work. We were lucky that former employers in Denmark gave us remote projects, which allowed us to keep — and even grow — the team. Then a competition came up in Iceland, the first one we did with our local partner. We couldn’t travel, so everything was based on drone images and online meetings. When we won, it was surreal — everyone celebrating wearing masks (laughs). That project became our real turning point.
And the tougher moments?
There are always some. But even the hardest moments bring learning. Before winning that competition in Iceland, we lost five or six. In each one, we received feedback on what didn’t work, and that helped us understand where to improve.
Looking back, would you have done anything differently?
No. Because even when things go wrong, you learn. At the beginning, we were three friends in New York with the idea of doing more than the projects we were working on. We even worked with NGOs on pro bono projects. When we decided to move forward, two of us came to Portugal and opened the studio. Even the dissolution of the partnership ended up being necessary to align the project’s vision.
You now work a lot in collaboration with other studios. How do those partnerships come about?
Most of our projects are collaborative. The Iceland connection came from realising we were competing in a completely different context. Things that made sense to us simply didn’t work there, so we looked for someone local with similar values and found the right partner. From there, the process became very natural.
And why Iceland?
It was almost by elimination. We were analysing different countries, and Iceland was where the most competitions aligned with the type of projects we wanted to do. France and Germany have many competitions, but on a much larger scale. For a small studio, that wasn’t feasible. In Iceland, we found an opportunity — and I don’t regret it at all.
“I’m stubborn—especially when it comes to projects. If I believe in an idea, I’ll fight for it to the very end.”
Do you think architecture is closely linked to culture?
Absolutely. In Iceland, for example, you have to consider extreme cold, lack of light, and layered entrances where people change clothes before entering a building. Here, we try to block the sun; there, we try to capture as much light as possible. They’re completely different realities.
You’ve also worked on very different types of projects, like nurseries and care homes. How do you approach designing these spaces?
They’re extremes — the beginning and end of life — but both are incredibly important. In a nursery, we think a lot about safety and how to control space without making it restrictive. In a care home, there are similar challenges, but also the need to create comfort for people who have lost some autonomy. We always try to go beyond the basics and think about quality of life — light, views, outdoor spaces.
You’ve lived in several cities. Did that change how you see them?
A lot. Visiting as a tourist is completely different from living there. Paris, for example, changed a lot for me once I lived there. On the other hand, Copenhagen stood out for its quality of life and its relationship with public space.
So why did you decide to come back to Porto?
Because it’s my city (laughs). It has an incredible culture, very open people, and amazing food. Even after living abroad for many years, there was always that desire to come back. We still haven’t developed as many projects here as I would like, but it’s a goal.
Is there any destination you still want to visit?
Japan. It’s been on the list for a while.
And future goals?
More than awards or recognition, what matters to me is the impact of our work. What we leave for future generations is what really matters.
What’s your biggest flaw?
I’m stubborn — very stubborn (laughs), especially in projects. If I believe in an idea, I’ll fight for it until the end.
And your biggest strength?
Probably my passion for what I do. It’s my profession, but also my hobby. Even in my free time, I often find myself drawing.
When you were a child, what did you want to be?
Everything (laughs) — astronaut, pilot… But later I wanted to be a painter. I ended up going into architecture and quickly realised it was the right path. I’d still like to go back to painting someday, but as a hobby.
Is there anything you can’t live without?
My fiancée (laughs).
Great answer (laughs)! Do you have a favourite word?
That’s a tough one… I’d need more time to think. Maybe I should ask my wife — she’s the funny one in the relationship (laughs).
“More than awards or recognition, what matters to me is the impact of our work. What we leave behind for future generations is what matters most.”
28 April 2026
