Thursday, October 22, 2026

When Steel Became Space and Space Became Experience

Janhavi Poul, General Manager, Design and Projects, Bangalore International Airport Limited, She never imagined that airport design would become her calling. What began with a friend’s suggestion and an open door at Delhi Airport evolved into a career dedicated to shaping some of India’s most important aviation gateways.

Having worked on major airport projects across Delhi, Mumbai, Hyderabad, Jaipur and now Bengaluru, she has developed a design philosophy centered on human experiences rather than just physical structures. For her, airports are not merely buildings, but living journeys where emotions, experiences, and stories unfold in motion

In this conversation with SSMB, she shares insights into passenger behavior, the timeless appeal of honest materials like steel, and the valuable lessons gained from years of designing complex aviation environments. She also reflects on the lessons, challenges, and advice she wishes she had received when she first stepped into the world of construction and airport design.

When you look back at the young architect who began this journey, what do you recognise in her today, and what has changed completely?

That curiosity, I think, is what has changed the least. Even before I understood architecture as a profession, I was subconsciously observing how spaces influenced the way people felt, behaved, and interacted with their surroundings. During my college years, I was equally inspired by architects with very different yet equally powerful philosophies. Charles Correa’s approach to Critical Regionalism showed how architecture could be contemporary while remaining deeply rooted in local culture, climate, and context.

BV Doshi’s modernist yet human-centric work revealed how design can enhance everyday life and foster social interaction. Internationally, Tadao Ando demonstrated that simplicity can evoke powerful emotions, that the most memorable spaces are often those that create calm, introspection, and a connection with nature. During my master’s studies, Kevin Lynch’s ideas on urban form, including paths, edges, districts, nodes, and landmarks, reinforced my belief that architecture is not just about creating buildings. It is about shaping experiences and creating meaningful connections between people and places.

What has changed completely is the scale of responsibility. Then, I was thinking about how a space should look, feel, and function. Today, I look at an airport as a much larger ecosystem: passenger experience, operations, technology, security, engineering, sustainability, and digital integration. Architecture, for me, has never just been about designing buildings. It has always been about shaping journeys and creating lasting impressions.

You spent your early years designing homes, boutique offices, and IT campuses. What made you trade that for the scale and complexity of an international terminal?

I never imagined I would end up designing airports. It happened by accident. After completing my master’s degree, a friend suggested I join Delhi Airport. I saw it as an interesting opportunity, but little did I know it would shape the course of my entire career. The moment I stepped into the world of airport design, I was captivated. Airports are far more than transportation hubs. They are the masters of all building typologies rolled into one: hotels, retail, public plazas, metro connectivity, airside infrastructure, security systems, and sophisticated operational networks. It is essentially a city within a city.

My earlier work taught me the fundamentals of architecture: proportion, materiality, functionality, and user experience. But airports demanded an entirely different mindset.

Every day, millions of passengers from different countries, cultures, age groups, and backgrounds pass through a terminal. The challenge is to create an environment that works seamlessly for all of them while satisfying stringent operational, security, and regulatory requirements. What many people see as chaos, I see as a design opportunity. If homes shape lives and offices shape productivity, airports shape memories.

“Airports are where architecture meets human aspirations”

Which airport project first made you feel genuinely out of your depth, in the way that changes how you think, not just what you know?

The first project that genuinely made me feel out of my depth was Hyderabad International Airport. Until then, most of my experience had been within clearly defined project scopes. Hyderabad exposed me to the complete lifecycle of airport development, from interim terminal upgrades to major expansion projects. For the first time, every design decision had operational, commercial, technical, and regulatory implications.

One of the biggest challenges was understanding the intricate network of airport traffic studies, the relationship of airside, terminal, and landside design, international standards, approvals, and compliance requirements. I quickly learned that a successful design solution is not just aesthetically pleasing. It must satisfy a broad range of functional and operational requirements without compromising the overall vision.

The project also introduced me to budgeting, cost management, and project execution strategies. The learning curve was steep. There were moments when I felt I was starting from scratch. Looking back, Hyderabad Airport was not just a project. It was a turning point. It taught me to think beyond architecture as a standalone discipline and view an airport as an interconnected system where design, operations, technology, business, and user needs must work in harmony. Hyderabad Airport taught me that architecture is not about designing objects. It is about orchestrating systems.

On the roof and façade packages at RGIA Hyderabad, was there a specific moment where steel stopped being a material and started feeling like a decision?

What immediately comes to mind is the North Light Roof Structure and check-in area suspended leaf structure at RGIA Hyderabad. Standing beneath those vast roof spans, supported by elegantly structural columns, was one of the first moments when I truly began to appreciate steel not just as a structural material, but as an architectural expression. The integration of the north light roof, the supporting columns, and the terminal ceiling created a seamless relationship between structure and space.

The scale was immense, yet the design felt remarkably light and refined. My fascination with steel structures began during my time at Hyderabad Airport. While participating in the design reviews of various steel structures, I became deeply intrigued by the complexity behind their design, engineering, and detailing. Driven by curiosity, I spent countless hours understanding not just the structural principles but also the intricate detailing that brings these ambitious forms to life. That experience sparked a lasting interest in steel as a material, shaping my appreciation for its versatility, precision, and ability to create bold architectural expressions. how steel structure guided the architecture to create a marvellous play of natural light. Every column, connection, and span contributed to the experience of the terminal. While working on those packages, I often reflected on the philosophy of Renzo Piano, who demonstrated that structure, light, and technology can work together to create spaces that feel remarkably light and human. Every truss and connection was more than an engineering solution. It was a design decision that influenced the perception of space, the quality of light, and the overall experience of the terminal. That project made me realize that steel is not just about supporting a building. It is about shaping space

Was there a moment you had to work harder to be heard simply because you were the only woman at the table? And how did that change the way you carry yourself?

Yes, there have been moments throughout my career when I was the only woman in the room, particularly during technical reviews, contractor meetings, and major design discussions. Early in my career, I viewed those situations as obstacles. Over time, I stopped trying to be the loudest voice and started being the most prepared one. That shift changed everything.

There have also been moments where I had to hold my design ground against real institutional pressure. On one occasion, operational requirements and stakeholder expectations were pushing the design toward a solution that was efficient on paper but compromised the passenger experience and the long-term vision of the terminal. Rather than resisting emotionally, I built a case through analysis, user impact studies, operational logic, and design justification. What I learned is that leadership in design is not about having the final word. It is about ensuring the right ideas endure long after the conversation ends.

Today, I walk into every room with a sense of purpose rather than perception. My focus is on solving problems, creating value, and moving projects forward.

“Credibility is not claimed in the room. It is built long before you walk into it, through preparation, knowledge, and genuine confidence.”

You have spoken about how much psychology sits inside something as simple as a signage system. What is a piece of passenger behaviour you observed that completely changed how you designed a space?

One of the biggest lessons I learned in airport design is that passengers rarely behave the way designers assume they will. Early in my career, I thought that if signage was clear, correctly placed, and technically compliant, people would naturally find their way. Through observation, however, I realised that human behaviour is far more complex.

Passengers are often stressed, distracted, or anxious. In those moments, they do not always stop to read signs carefully. Instead, they rely on instinct, visual cues, landmarks, and often the behaviour of other passengers. I remember observing areas where people consistently hesitated or slowed down despite having perfectly adequate signage. It was not a signage problem. It was a human behaviour problem. People were not just looking for information. They were looking for reassurance that they were on the right path.

I was also fascinated by how strongly people gravitate toward natural light and open views. Passengers naturally move toward spaces where they can see outside, locate aircraft, or simply orient themselves. It reinforced the importance of transparency, visibility, and visual connection in reducing travel anxiety. These observations changed how I approach design entirely. I stopped thinking of signage as a standalone element and began seeing wayfinding as a complete spatial experience. Architecture itself should guide people. If a passenger has to repeatedly stop, think, and look around, the space has already failed them to some extent.

Jaipur’s terminal carries the city’s heritage in its bones, built in a thoroughly modern material language. What does it actually feel like to bridge a place’s past and its future?

For me, it is both a privilege and a responsibility. The goal is not to replicate history or create a museum. It is about understanding the essence of a place: its culture, craftsmanship, patterns, colours, and identity, and then reinterpreting it in a way that feels relevant to the present.

Jaipur is a city with a very strong architectural character. Its heritage is deeply embedded in people’s memory and expectations. The challenge was to capture that spirit without becoming literal or nostalgic. Modern airports are highly technical, complex, and performance-driven buildings, so the design has to meet contemporary operational demands while still creating a sense of place. What I find most rewarding is when passengers can immediately sense where they are without reading a signboard.

I often think of architecture as storytelling. Heritage gives us the story, while contemporary design provides the language. When done well, a project like Jaipur Airport becomes more than a terminal. It becomes a place where the past, present, and future coexist, allowing travellers to experience the spirit of Rajasthan through a distinctly modern lens. That, to me, is what it means to bridge a place’s past and its future: preserving its soul while giving it the confidence to evolve.

If you had to compress your entire philosophy on designing within tight constraints into one instruction for a junior architect, what would it be?

Do not let constraints limit your creativity. Let them shape it. The most memorable projects are not always the largest or the most lavish. Smaller airports often have tighter budgets, limited footprints, and fewer architectural gestures available to them. That is where creativity matters most. Anyone can design when there are unlimited space and resources. The real skill lies in creating a strong passenger experience when every square metre has to work harder. Instead of asking, “What more can I add?”, ask, “How can I achieve more with less?” Success of design is not measured by its scale but how effortlessly people experience it. Often, the constraint everyone sees as a limitation becomes the very thing that gives a project its identity.

“Don’t let constraints limit your creativity; let them shape it.”

You are now one of the very few women holding a senior design leadership seat at a major Indian airport. What do you wish someone had told you the day you first walked onto a construction site?

You do not need to earn your place in the room every single day. Early in my career, I felt a constant pressure to prove that I belonged, that I understood the technical complexities, and that my voice deserved to be heard. Authority on a site is not claimed by shouting over the noise. Credibility is built through consistency, preparation, and knowing the drawing better than anyone else in the room. Silence is also a power move. Leadership is not about being the loudest voice in high-decibel site meetings. I learned that the real value of leadership lies not in shaping the debate, but in bringing clarity, direction, and purpose when it matters most. And most importantly: your perspective is the ultimate asset.

Major airports are often built by men, but they are navigated by everyone, families, elderly passengers, solo women, and people with disabilities. Bringing human-centred empathy to a hard-hat environment is precisely why you have a seat at the table. Drawing inspiration from trailblazers like Zaha Hadid, Indra Nooyi, and Angela Merkel reminded me that leadership is about embracing authentic strengths rather than fitting into a traditional mould. Trust your knowledge, stay curious, and focus on delivering quality work. When your actions consistently demonstrate capability and integrity, respect follows naturally.

WHY IT MATTERS:

Janhavi Poul’s career traces the arc of a profession in transformation. From a curiosity-driven young architect who wondered why certain spaces felt memorable and others did not, to a design leader shaping the terminals through which millions of Indians begin and end their journeys, she has built her practice on a simple but demanding belief: that airports are not buildings, they are experiences. Her work across Delhi, Mumbai Hyderabad, Jaipur, and Bengaluru demonstrates what happens when human psychology, contextual sensitivity, and structural honesty come together in service of the passenger. In a sector still finding its footing with women in senior leadership, her voice is both a benchmark and a beginning.

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