
Designing the Future: A Conversation with Jacqueline Touzet
Jacqueline Touzet, recognized as AIA Miami’s Sustainable Architect of the Year, is redefining the future of architecture through innovation, heritage, and resilience. As a first-generation Cuban-American, Jackie’s work reflects a deep connection to her roots while addressing the pressing challenges of climate change. From leading sustainable urban projects to collaborating with global brands, Jackie has made her mark as a pioneer in conscious design.
In this exclusive interview, Jackie shares her insights on the transformative power of architecture, the lessons modern design can draw from the past, and her unwavering commitment to building a sustainable future for Miami and beyond.
- How has your Cuban heritage influenced your approach to architecture and your vision for sustainable design?
I am a Cuban but was raised mostly in Miami and Panama Canal Zone and went to college in New York. I see being Cuban or even Latina as being a part of a hybrid culture—one usually rooted in European traditions with deeper African, Indigenous, and sometimes even Moorish influences. This fusion of cultures has fascinated me since college, as I’ve worked to define what it means to be a Cuban architect practicing in the US.
One reason I have always loved Cuban tropical modernism is that fusion and innovation, which I can relate to. The modernists of the 1940s and 1950s in Cuba, Latin America, and the Caribbean didn’t simply adopt European modernism; they transformed it by incorporating their innate creole understanding of climate and culture. That has always been a deep inspiration for my work.
One of my favorite sayings is from Picasso: “Learn the rules like a pro so you can break them like an artist.” That’s exactly what these architects did. They mastered modernism and did groundbreaking work with concrete, but they also celebrated their culture and understood their climate.
These buildings weren’t sad little white boxes—they breathed; they captured breezes. Architects like Porro and Romanach fused culture, climate, and materials to create something truly unique. Early in my career, I had the opportunity to work with one of the Cuban structural masters, Ysrael Seinuk, whose work with concrete was awe-inspiring. And anyone who has seen the crystal arches of the Tropicana, with dancers suspended in the trees, understands the magic these architects and engineers created.
A lot of people think that good design has to come from Europe or New York, but I believe the best design comes from the place and the culture that shape it. Adaptation and sustainability have to be climate-specific and sensitive to culture. In Miami, some of the most unfortunate buildings come from global architectural giants bringing a misunderstanding of our climate and city, which is why thoughtful, locally rooted design is so important.
On a personal level, this belief is tied to my own story. I grew up with a father who was a political refugee and a mother who was a guajira. Both were deeply proud of their Cuban heritage and very sad to leave their country and roots. The culture—the food, the music, the history—was all they had left to share with us. Carlos is the same and it is one of the forces that brought us together and it is we have shared with our children and in our work.
I carry that culture deeply in my soul. So, it is natural that when I set out to create – as an artist or architect – I naturally turn to my roots. I draw on this nostalgia for a culture I didn’t grow up in but that infused my life.
- What does being recognized as AIA Miami’s Sustainable Architect of the Year mean to you, and how does it reflect your work’s mission?
It is deeply meaningful to me because this is the defining issue of our time. This is about how we, as architects, shape the future. Touzet Studio has been receiving awards since we started 20 years ago, and we never take it for granted. We’ve been honored as Architect of the Year, Young Architect of the Year, and received the Silver Medal for Design. But it doesn’t seem to be enough to win awards. I want to do what I can to help prepare our communities and the next generation.
I see a lot of worry and anxiety in the classrooms when we lecture and serve on juries. I want future generations of architects to know that we design principals care deeply about this issue of living on this planet and thriving—not just policymakers and scientists. It is a matter of leadership.
- Miami faces unique challenges as a coastal city. What innovative solutions do you think are most critical for its future resilience?
Miami, like all coastal cities, grapples with significant challenges—challenges that no major city around the world can escape in the years to come. At the same time, there is tremendous interest in our city, and people are flocking here. If we cannot lead—if we cannot innovate—with the amount of capital, creativity, and innovation we possess, what hope do other cities in our region or the world have, most of them with far fewer resources?
Of course, we need to carefully assess where and how we should build in the future, weighing risks and priorities for safety while preserving our cultural identity. I serve on the AIA Miami Resiliency Committee and the HistoryMiami Board because I care deeply about both the future and protecting the history and culture of our community.
We all need to care that those who cannot afford architects are considered and that we build our cities with them in mind.
The good news is that we are a young city. We are resilient. We can shape our future, and we must. We already lead with our wind and structural codes. Now, we need to apply the same rigor to water—not just sea level rise but also storm surge and freshwater scarcity.
In addition to elevating buildings and systems, we need to consider how to minimize impacts and speed recovery. I am a huge solar aficionado—we should fully embrace being the real Sunshine State by using our roofs and buildings to generate energy. This will enable us to recover faster and experience less disruption.
We need to design elevated buildings with critical systems protected in strategic areas, such as high ground and locations near transit. More investment in transit is key.
To safely house more people, we also need innovations in construction materials that can resist higher temperatures and flooding. There’s already much we know and should be doing, which is why I advocate for code changes to make safe building practices more affordable and accessible.
Miami has an opportunity—and an obligation—to lead. The world will soon look more like Miami (hot and humid), and we can show the way forward.
- Your work frequently incorporates lessons from Cuban Modernism and subtropical design. What makes these styles so relevant today?
Nicolás Quintana, one of the few from that generation who taught architecture in Miami, said every Cuban architect at the University of Havana was taught the three “P”s: Patios, Portales, and Persianas. Roughly translated, that means courtyard buildings, porches, and louvers or sunshades.
In essence they were saying – sure, modernism is great – but we cannot ever forget the culture and the climate. I agree with them. These architects designed in a world that didn’t rely on HVAC, yet many of their buildings have endured even with shocking neglect. Carlos and I are obsessed with sun shades and courtyard houses, and how to adapt these typologies to the increasing challenges we face. There’s also a beauty in their work—from the Afro-Cuban sensuality of Porro to the dramatic floating cantilevers of Románach. They were bold and experimental, expressing their culture while innovating.
- How do you balance preserving Miami’s architectural identity with pushing the boundaries of innovation in your projects?
We are always mindful that Miami is, in fact, a mosaic of neighborhoods. What we design for Wynwood would be very different from what we design in Miami Beach or Key Biscayne. We pay close attention to context, culture, and always, climate. For example. we asked Nike to consider lighter colored materials than the dark metal they wanted to use originally. We asked Apple to use Florida keystone and terrazzo. As a result, both buildings are unique and designed for Lincoln Road, as they should be.
It makes us a bit sad when clients want to make Wynwood look like Brooklyn. Dark black and grey façades age poorly in our climate. And we don’t really design in a “Style” – we take inspiration from the past, sure – but always we design for the future. And if we are restoring a building – we take that very seriously and are meticulous about never faking it and using real craftsmen and materials – or else doing something new.
- What emotions or experiences do you aim to evoke in the people who interact with your designs?
We aim to delight and inspire, encouraging mindfulness of nature and the place. For us, it’s about going beyond the program—we love creating memorable experiences that resonate on a deeper level. We try to go beyond the written brief or list of rooms, transcending it to consider the broader context of the neighborhood or even a fantasy the client might be too shy to acknowledge but that fuels their imagination. Sometimes, these experiences are inspired by film, art they love or their culture, and we use it as inspiration – weaving a story into the fabric of the design.
There is always a narrative we try to tell, even if the person experiencing it isn’t consciously aware of it. We begin every project with a concept and a story about the place or the people, ensuring that the narrative is carried through in every detail.
If it’s a house for a couple, we aim to tell a story that speaks to both of them. For example, we designed a Cuban modernist villa for the founder of Alienware. He wanted super-futurism, while she envisioned a tropical home like those she knew in Costa Rica. For another couple, we wove a James Bond-inspired dramatic arrival for him, paired with interior grottos and a courtyard house design reminiscent of old Havana for her, inspired by her love for Vizcaya.
Our greatest thrill is hearing from clients about how much they love a specific view we framed for them or how sunlight reveals new layers of detail throughout the day.
For our commercial and mixed-use projects, we also recognize that these buildings shape the public realm and larger environment. On Lincoln Road, for instance, the Nike building serves as a lantern at night, shielding pedestrians from glare while enhancing the street’s ambiance with thoughtful lighting design. In Grove Central, we focused on addressing the station and weaving the Underline with a linear plaza for pedestrians.
- Your studio’s move to Little Havana is symbolic. What does Touzet Tertulia represent for your practice and the community?
We’ve had studios in Brickell, Wynwood, and historic Coral Gables. But of all our spaces, this one is closest to our hearts. Carlos went to elementary school down the street, and we’ve been around Calle Ocho our whole lives.
One of our dreams was to create a space that fuses culture, design, music, poetry, and film from Latin America and the Caribbean. We want to expand what design means in Miami—beyond selling products or real estate. We crave connection and inspiration.
We envision holding talks and events that end with a night of dancing at Ball & Chain downstairs. Being Cuban means delighting in all the senses. Right now, we’re above a bar with great music, cigars, and ice cream. We’re excited to see what comes next.
- What role do you believe innovative materials like your terracotta prototype will play in the future of sustainable architecture?
Terracotta is a material that really interests us and we have been studying for several years. We love its ability to blend tradition, innovation, and cultural expression.
For our work in South Florida, where the environment demands resilience, it’s become clear that terracotta can do what other materials cannot—it’s durable, flood-resistant and holds its color and finish in tough environments.
This material also has deep roots in Miami’s history. The courthouse, along with several notable buildings in historic downtown, were built with terracotta, and architects like Russell Pancoast famously used it in their designs. Eventually stucco and concrete took over because of costs, but we think terracotta deserves a comeback. Made of clay instead of cement, terracotta offers a much lower carbon footprint. Its ability to withstand heat and water makes it an ideal material for our changing environment
Recently, we participated in the annual Architectural Ceramic Assemblies Workshop, which brings architects and engineers together to push the boundaries of what terracotta can do. Our prototype channels stormwater from garage roofs into a series of planters and ultimately into cisterns and rain gardens.
This isn’t just research – it’s shaping real projects. For example, at Mary Street Garage in Coconut Grove, we used terracotta to create a distinctive rainscreen façade that breathes new life into an aging parking garage and Class A office building. We studied the banding of seashells to give it its own Florida twist. At a mixed-use project along the Miami River, we’re exploring how terracotta’s durability and design flexibility can enhance both resilience and also make a reference to the waterfall rapids that once occurred naturally along the historic Miami river.
Terracotta is just one of many materials we study to tackle challenges like flooding and reducing carbon footprints. From high-strength concrete to 3D-printed modules, we’re focused on high-performance facades that go beyond stucco and glass.
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