We chat with Alek Dojnow, an MIT student in his final year of the MArch I program. Alek runs us through the portfolio he used in his applications. He applied from the Bartlett School of Architecture UCL where he completed his undergraduate degree in 2018.
Full transcript
My name is Alek, and I’m in the fourth year of the Master of Architecture program at MIT. I’ll be sharing the portfolio I used to apply and talking a bit about the program itself. My portfolio included two projects from my final year at the Bartlett. MIT’s requirements at the time allowed for a short portfolio, so I chose to include only two works. The first was a speculative architectural project related to sailing, and the second was a building design that grew out of some of the same ideas, though in a more formal architectural way.
When I was preparing my application, I decided that my third-year work was the strongest. My second-year projects weren’t up to the same standard, so I focused entirely on my final-year work. My portfolio revolved around my first project, which was a design device developed in Unit 9, and the second project, which extended some of its themes into a building proposal.
The first project began with my fascination with traditional Hong Kong junk ships. These crafts are an important part of maritime heritage but are rapidly disappearing. I wanted to create a device that could support the traditional process of weaving sails. I began with prototypes that explored how a mechanical or pneumatic system might guide the artisan’s hands, introducing air pressure to help direct motion and twisting during the making of sails.
From there, I started experimenting with airflow and motion. I tested laminar and turbulent flow patterns on a latex sail, using charcoal dust to trace the air movement on paper. Although the results weren’t especially clear, I became intrigued by the idea of capturing something ephemeral. I attached LED lights to small fabric sails, placed them in front of an industrial fan, and recorded their movements. This process made me think of the sails as performing a kind of dance, and I began to view the project as a symbolic performance rather than a technical study.
Ultimately, I created an installation where a lightweight piece of silk, representing a sail, was suspended from the ceiling by pulleys and wires. These were connected to my body so that when I moved, the fabric responded. The idea was that through balancing the suspended sail, a sense of connection would grow between the person and the object. This act of choreography was meant to represent an emotional affinity toward the disappearing art of junk boat making. The project was less about aiding the craftsmen directly and more about rekindling public appreciation for this traditional practice.
For my second project, I wanted to extend this exploration of connection and heritage into the political sphere. I focused on the Umbrella Movement that took place in Hong Kong in 2012 and used it as a context for thinking about how architecture could embody ideas of dialogue, resistance, and independence. I chose a site near the University of Hong Kong and proposed a building that would serve as a political dialogue and diplomacy center.
I intentionally picked a site with a small footprint because I wanted to challenge myself to design vertically. The idea was to design a skyscraper that didn’t simply repeat floor plates from bottom to top. Instead, I wanted the form to evolve, responding to spatial and symbolic ideas rather than efficiency.
One of the main conceptual challenges was how to design a building that symbolized resistance. During critiques, my tutors and I discussed the problem of ensuring that such a structure couldn’t easily be destroyed by an authoritarian force. I began researching precedents, such as London’s Center Point, a building that has progressively tensioned concrete beams that could explode if unloaded incorrectly. That idea fascinated me, and I explored how architectural components could be designed to resist demolition. The project took on a more subversive tone, transforming from a peaceful center for dialogue into a symbolic act of protest against political suppression.
I incorporated this thinking into my technical development, producing drawings and details that imagined how the building’s structure could resist tampering. Around that time, I was deeply influenced by Forensic Architecture and created a video inspired by their methods. It presented the project as if it were being investigated in the future after being demolished in an act of sabotage. The video reconstructed how the building’s systems and components might have failed, creating a narrative that blurred fact and speculation.
The final part of the portfolio included renders showing the main spaces. There was an auditorium, a debate chamber designed with deliberately unequal seating arrangements to represent political imbalance, and a library at the top of the tower. Materiality was a key theme as well. Each material was imagined as being donated by a different country to deter interference from mainland China. Tampering with the building would symbolically represent disrespecting a gift from the international community.
I formatted the portfolio in portrait orientation, but the spreads were designed so that it could be read like a landscape document when opened fully. I wanted each spread to tell a story through drawings, sections, and renders, ending with a dramatic visual that captured the speculative spirit of the project.
For my MIT application, I didn’t include any professional work. It wasn’t a requirement, and I didn’t think my work experience at the time added much to the portfolio. I did include a recommendation letter from my supervisor and discussed my practical experience in my personal statement, particularly my exposure to construction sites and collaboration with trades. But the portfolio itself was meant to show design thinking, iteration, and representation skills.
Looking back after four years at MIT, I would probably change a few things. In my first year, I organized portfolio review sessions with classmates so we could understand each other’s strengths and backgrounds. What I realized was that MIT admits students from an incredibly wide range of disciplines. Some had backgrounds in music, fashion, film, or research, not necessarily architecture. That experience made me realize that a portfolio doesn’t have to be conventionally architectural or polished. What matters most is that it tells a coherent story and demonstrates curiosity and depth.
If I were applying again, I would include more projects from outside academia—things that have personal meaning to me. At the time, I wanted to tell a focused story, and I think that was still the right approach, but I now understand that showing intellectual range can be just as powerful.
As for the program itself, I can say without hesitation that MIT has been an incredible experience. In the beginning, I was impressed by the resources and the strength of the courses, but as time went on, I realized that the greatest value lies in the network and the people. MIT encourages cross-disciplinary work in a way few other institutions do. I wanted to explore space architecture, and the school supported me in connecting with the AeroAstro department and the Media Lab, both of which have space-related research programs. Those collaborations shaped my academic direction and opened opportunities I never would have found elsewhere.
The culture here is deeply collaborative and empowering. It pushes you to explore beyond architecture and find meaningful intersections with other fields. I’ve gained a stronger sense of confidence and a broader understanding of how design can intersect with technology, politics, and culture.
MIT has also provided extraordinary institutional support. For example, I completed a summer internship with a space architecture company in Paris that was entirely funded by the Institute. They covered my travel, housing, and salary, which made the experience possible. The reputation and backing of MIT open doors, not only academically but professionally. When you introduce yourself as an MIT student with institutional support, it gives you tremendous leverage in pursuing opportunities.
Overall, my time here has been both rigorous and rewarding. The freedom to explore, the resources available, and the people I’ve met have made it one of the most formative experiences of my life.