By Ernesto Santalla

My name is Ernesto Santalla. I live and work in Washington, D.C. where I am an architect. Architects are notoriously bad writers and bad businessmen, but I come from hearty Cuban stock. Always up for a challenge, I agreed to write a column about the design industry from a business standpoint, reflecting my particular experiences. I strive to make my work fun, and I certainly intend to do the same here, so let's give it a whirl.
I studied architecture, not business, so I felt cheated when I found out that architecture is a business. When I was working for someone else I was more or less able to ignore it, but having my own company was another story. Suddenly I was negotiating contracts, budgeting my time and my employees' time, and promoting my business. Plus, on top of the "business side," I still had to deliver projects designed and executed to the client's satisfaction and the highest industry standards.
With all these additional responsibilities, I quickly discovered that being in business for myself actually made money tighter! Not only was I being underpaid for my services, the client's budget was insufficient to build according to spec. I came to the unavoidable conclusion that my clients were obviously cheap!
Of course, that kind of thinking didn't solve my problem, so I continued to struggle. Meanwhile, each passing issue of the trade journals showed project after project I wanted to be designing, but could not. Why them and not me? I wondered. That's when I realized I had to reposition myself to a more affluent clientele who would provide the creative opportunities I was craving—not to mention the income I so badly needed!

But repositioning my company would require more than just saying it. A successful transition to more affluent clients and the kind of projects that would test my mettle as an architect and designer would require a "redesign" in my own professional life and the space that ultimately defines me to my clients: my office.
As a consumer of my own product, namely quality residential and commercial interiors, the spaces where I live and work are designed to reflect my design philosophy. In my line of work good design is good business, and is an important component of a company's success. My office, for instance, is a serene and quiet oasis amid the traffic and noise of a busy intersection in the Georgetown section of Washington, D.C.

I ask clients how they want their spaces to feel when someone first walks in. At Studio Santalla, for example, the first impression is of a large, open space bathed in light, rendered in warm, neutral colors. New clients are typically impressed by what they see, so by the time I've reviewed my portfolio with them, the deal is done. Later on, when we meet to discuss their project, the open and warm quality of my office space has become emblematic of the results we will achieve with their home or business.
There is more than meets the eye, and that's for me to worry about. But how the space is organized to function efficiently—the way it's lit, the use of color, the location of artwork and how technology is integrated— all are carefully considered and designed. Once these issues have been effectively addressed, the aesthetics of the space seem effortless, and therein lies the key. To achieve a space that is serene and quiet, it must be simple and understatedly elegant. It has to be ordered, never rigid, but inviting at the same time.
The proof of this is in the pictures. Not only do I enjoy functioning in my workspace every day, it instills confidence in clients who trust me to make important choices on their behalf.
Eileen Kessler writes that economic diversity can help your business grow. 


