
Small projects, profound impact
Trahan Architects founder Trey Trahan, FAIA, NOMA, reflects on designing two award-winning projects and the outsized impact small interventions can have on communities.
In 2026, Trahan Architects, based in New Orleans and New York, received the AIA Small Project Award for two different entries. One award recognized the Luther George Park Performance Pavilion in Springdale, Ark., a dual-sided structure with an open design that invites community gatherings. The other award recognized the Chapel of St. Ignatius and the Gayle and Tom Benson Jesuit Center, a spiritual space that emphasizes equality rather than hierarchy at Loyola University in New Orleans.
To learn more about the process behind these projects, we caught up with Trey Trahan, FAIA, NOMA, the firm’s founder and CEO, for a Q&A. Answers have been edited for concision and clarity.
AIA Architect: What drew your firm toward taking on the Luther George Park Performance Pavilion and the Chapel of St. Ignatius and the Gayle and Tom Benson Jesuit Center projects?
Trahan: I think we’re drawn to projects that allow an architect to see how leading a team and working with a client can impact a community. When we were being considered for both projects, we were in the middle of renovating the Superdome, which is community at a whole [different] scale.
The Superdome, in some ways, is for the state of Louisiana and the NFL’s New Orleans Saints. [Saints owners Gayle and Tom Benson] had given the money to Loyola University for this chapel, and we were intrigued with the idea of working on a project for a client at the scale of less than 5,000 square feet and one at the scale of 2 million square feet.
As for the Luther George Park Performance Pavilion, we were drawn to having a project on the Razorback Greenway, which is a pedestrian/bicycle path that links seven communities from Fayetteville to Bentonville to Springdale. The question was: What does it mean to collaborate with landscape architects for one of the nodes along a much broader network?
What needs will the chapel meet for the Loyola University community?
Loyola is a Roman Catholic institution, heavily influenced by the Jesuits and St. Ignatius. Stillness was important to him. For us, the project meant intervening in a campus in a way that reflects the values and beliefs of the Catholic faith and the Jesuits while also making a space that supports all the various faiths on campus.
[We wanted] members of many faiths to feel welcome and feel as if they can participate in the celebration of this space, whether they’re taking part in the various Roman Catholic rites or if it’s someone of a different faith seeking a place of quiet contemplation or peace on a college campus.
For that reason, the outward expression is a cylinder, but each of the interior spaces is a cylinder as well. That contrasts with a cubic or rectilinear space, where it feels like there is a hierarchy.
If someone sits at the end of a table in an elongated room, we typically associate it with an elevated position. And in a round room, there seem to be levels of equality. Each voice is significant. Each should contribute. Each is encouraged to participate on the same level. There’s a crucifix embedded in the plan for the traditional Catholic [setup], but there is also a more diverse programmatic arrangement present.

A similar question for the other project: What gaps will the Performance Pavilion fill for the Springdale community?
It’s a gathering space that people can occupy on both sides. During the recent World Cup, there were screens suspended on each side, and people gathered around them—like a gathering in the round. It was beautiful to receive images of a community of almost 10,000 people gathering in this park to watch a sporting event.
In some ways, it’s like the chapel. It’s for community gatherings on a different scale. There’s an openness to the pavilion, so there’s an invitation to a broader community to come and enjoy this outdoor space, whether it's a few people simply sitting on the stage for protection from the sun or it’s 10,000 people gathering for a sporting event or live performance.
Your firm won the Small Project Award for two very different projects. How did Trahan Architects reach a place where it could excel at designing both a chapel and an outdoor performance pavilion?
I hope it’s our process. Many years back, as the computer began to contribute significantly to design, it challenged me that someone with exceptional talent in manipulating massings and spatial conditions could create something that appeared rather compelling but was, in many ways, devoid of connections to the history and ecology of a community.
That’s why we begin with what we call “rootedness.” We start every project by developing a thorough understanding of the watershed that the site resides in, where its water originates from, and where it’s moving.
We also ask: What are the soil conditions beyond a structural perspective—is there sand, silt, or clay? How did the earliest settlers participate in agrarian practices? What were those crops? How did those settlers extract matter or material from the site and create ceramics or weave textiles?
For us, the process of rootedness is about authenticating a project or an intervention. Even the smallest of projects can have a profound presence and impact in a community. In fact, they can be more impactful because the smallest detail is elevated to a place of significance.
All of those things are important to us and our clients. How are we intervening? How, over time, can the intervention age in a way that results in a presence that resides somewhere between the natural world and the man-made world?
What advice would you give a firm submitting an AIA Award entry?
I think the plan’s important, and the photographs are important, but the process is the most important part. That means revealing how, almost as an archaeologist, the architect interrogated the place, client, and program and extracted the things that influenced the way the architect thought.
It also means showing what each of the architects and collaborators brought that was unique to their perspective, making the project not only unique to the client and place but also to the team that made it.
[For instance], I often thought of collaborating with clients, engineers, and consultants, but now I think often of collaborating with the soil, with the environment, with the materials of place, or with the process of making.
I’m intrigued with how making something can embed, to some degree, very predictable outcomes, but to another degree, elements of chance that are a tremendous act of humility. I think often of ceramicists who put a piece of shaped clay in a kiln, and the kiln’s atmosphere and fire can take the object to a far more beautiful place. Collaborating with the fire of the kiln and that degree of unpredictability can result in a greater degree of beauty.
Is there anything else you’d like to add about the chapel and pavilion projects?
Architects working at the scale of these projects should not feel as if their contributions are less than architects working at other scales. These projects are equally important and impactful. They should be addressed with the same level of importance as projects at much greater scales.
Learn more about the Small Project Award and how to submit your firm’s work on the award’s page. Submissions are due November 3, 2026, for the 2027 awards cycle.
Danielle Steger is AIA’s senior manager, editorial & publications.