Sybil Wa

ROOTS AND RESONANCE

Architect Sybil Wa, a Canadian of Chinese descent, conveys this commitment in her role as principal at Diamond Schmitt , an award winning firm based in New York, Toronto, Vancouver, and Calgary. Born in Canada to parents who emigrated from Hong Kong in the 1970s, Wa traces her understanding of identity and community to her upbringing. At home, Cantonese remains the dominant language—a dynamic that encouraged her to improve her fluency, allowing her to communicate more deeply with elders, connect with family, and navigate the everyday nuances of Chinese culture, from conversation to cuisine.

Wa is especially recognized for being one of the design team behind the reimagined David Geffen Hall at Lincoln Center in New York City. The project, which began in 2015, culminated in its official reopening in 2022 after eight years of development. As Wa described, it was a deeply collaborative process—“much like a symphony, where there are so many musical voices that together have one effect: a truly integrated result.”

SYMPHONY OF COLLABORATION: RETHINKING THE "STAR ARCHITECT"

Although architectural projects are often attributed to a single “star architect,” Wa resists this notion, placing greater emphasis on the collective. Drawing from traditional Chinese and broader Asian values—where success is seen as a shared achievement—her approach highlights the intricate coordination between design, technical systems, and human experience. Rather than positioning architecture as a solitary vision, she sees it as a collaborative response shaped by the needs of artists, stage crews, audiences, and the emotional resonance of the space itself. “There was a lot of dialogue with many inspirations,” she explained, “but the right response is the one that meets the community’s needs and experiences.”

PERFORMING ARTS FOR ALL: REDEFINING ACCESS AT DAVID GEFFEN HALL

This principle of responsiveness is evident not only at David Geffen Hall, but also in other major performance spaces Wa has helped bring to life. She was part of the core team behind the Four Seasons Centre for the Performing Arts in Toronto, Canada’s first purpose-built opera house, where acoustics and transparency were balanced to make the arts more accessible. In St. Petersburg, she contributed to the design of Mariinsky II, a contemporary expansion to the historic Russian opera house that delicately negotiated context, heritage, and modern function. More recently, her work on the University of Virginia Center for the Arts to establish a civic hub that brings together community, students, and artists in a shared cultural space. Across these projects, the through line is clear: architecture as a civic gesture—where the building is both a container and a connector.

When asked about her views on the role of performing arts spaces in relation to architectural equity, Wa reflected on attending a public concert in Central Park. “I was astonished to see how diverse the audience was during the free concert. It was as if the subways emptied into the park.” She realized that “the building is built to protect the arts, a roof over the head, but it also becomes a barrier in contrast to outdoor spaces.” This revelation made her aware that every time she drew a door or a wall, she was creating a barrier. At the same time as protecting and housing something, you’re also creating a barrier to it.

DRAWING THE LINE: BARRIERS, ACCESS, AND THE ETHICS OF SPACE 

She consulted the census data of New York City and its boroughs to understand who could potentially attend the performance space. The goal became inclusivity, envisioning an audience of multiple generations and ethnicities. The city’s census, she noted, “inspired our image of the audience. This is New York City. It is a uniquely diverse metropolis and it is important for Lincoln Center to connect with broad talent and audiences,” she asserted.

As a result, the renovation of David Geffen Hall became a pacesetter for what a performing arts center can be. The team prioritized accessibility, flexibility, and public engagement, transforming the space into a more inclusive and dynamic cultural hub. Key improvements included patron and artist amenities like ADA-compliant features, gender-neutral restrooms, and a nursing room, while the addition of ground-floor public spaces and a transparent glass facade fostered openness and connection with the city. The reimagined hall now supports a wide range of performances and everyday uses, with adaptable theatrical lighting, improved acoustics, and a welcoming design that invites all visitors to feel at home. “What we tried to do is enable a multitude of types of artistry, events and programs, and we have seen that the audience responds and grows,” Wa noted.

THE ARCHITECTURE OF MUTUAL CARE

Wa considers herself an “advocate” when asked what type of architect she is. She became an architect at a young age and has accumulated over decades of experience. She described her early career: “I had no business doing what I was doing, except for the fact that I cared about something.” Skills can certainly be learned from various sources, but Wa emphasizes the question: “Are you taking care of someone or something?”

In our increasingly complex societies, where the needs of diverse communities continue to evolve, the role of architecture—and the responsibility of architects—grows ever more indispensable. While buildings may rise from concrete and steel, it is the architect’s thoughtful investment of time, study, and insight that transforms them into spaces of meaning. By carefully interpreting and responding to a community’s needs, architects do more than design structures; they shape experiences, safeguard dignity, and create environments that reflect and serve the people who inhabit them. For Wa, an architect “is a trusted partner, an advocate for what is going to happen on a project.” When asked if there is anyone, living or dead, that she would have liked to collaborate with, she briefly mentioned the late philosopher Hannah Arendt, an influential figure whose background was shaped by mentorship, committed to public life and moral thinking.

HOUSING AS OPPORTUNITY: RETHINKING STABILITY AND COMMUNITY

As the chair of the Toronto Community Housing Design Review Panel, Sybil Wa was asked how architects could address the social needs of affordable housing residents. She explained that “the goal of housing is geared towards supporting people who need assistance temporarily. But within the community, they are connecting to more opportunities, more training, and more support, that would allow them to have something more permanent as a solution.” Her approach, shaped by values found in many Asian cultures, emphasizes well-being as a collective endeavor. For Wa, stability comes from shared responsibility and mutual care—principles she brings to housing that fosters connection rather than isolation. This philosophy is also present in Toronto’s affordable housing model, which brings together public funding, city-owned land, and partnerships with both private and non-profit developers to create housing that is inclusive and financially sustainable. “I do think that security is very important. People should feel secure and that the place is safe to live in,” Wa noted—pointing to a more expansive definition of stability, where feeling rooted within a community is just as vital as owning property. Her work demonstrates how thoughtful design can strengthen social bonds while meeting practical needs.

QUITE LEADERSHIP: THE POWER OF HJUMILTY AND COLLECTIVE ACTION

While affordable housing developments have long carried a certain stigma, Wa’s work invites a reconsideration of how we define and support these communities. When housing is designed as a framework for opportunity—where residents are supported in building stable, independent lives—it becomes clear that the conversation should not center on deficit, but on potential. In that light, perhaps what deserves closer attention is not the communities themselves, but the systems that shape their conditions and our perceptions of them.

The values guiding Sybil Wa’s work in housing—stability, dignity, and mutual care—are the same principles that shape her cultural and civic projects. Whether reimagining a world-class concert hall or helping steer affordable housing policy, she brings a consistent focus on access, responsiveness, and the architecture of daily life. Her emphasis on working together runs through it all—not only in how she collaborates, but in how she credits the process itself. There’s a humility in that stance, an understanding that architecture is rarely the work of one voice, and that attentive engagement is as critical as leadership. It’s a perspective rooted in her cultural background, where belonging is tied to responsibility, and care is a shared task. Wa’s leadership doesn’t draw attention to itself, but its impact is unmistakable. In its clarity, patience, and steadiness, it carries a kind of incandescence—felt not through spectacle, but through the spaces it makes possible.