The Ďábel Is in the Details

In Czech, the word ďábel means devil. For Marek Hnizda, AIA, LEED AP, BD+C, that familiar saying “ďábel je v detailech” – the devil is in the details, doesn’t just apply to design. It defines what architecture is.

Marek doesn’t romanticize buildings. He respects them. Born in Austria to Czech parents, trained first as an engineer, and now leading the multifamily studio at Webber + Studio, he brings a kind of calm, deliberate seriousness to the work. But behind that quiet exterior is a belief that gives everything he does its shape:

Design is only meaningful when it’s fulfilled.

“I can sketch anything,” he says, “but if it doesn’t make sense technically, financially, or spatially, it won’t get built.” That idea shows up in nearly every project Marek leads, but one in particular captures it well.

What started as a simple house for a client evolved into a full family compound with multiple units, a brewery, and communal outdoor spaces. The project grew organically, responding to the needs of the people living there. It encouraged gathering without sacrificing privacy. It stayed grounded in budget, accessibility, and purpose. And it never lost design integrity, even as the program shifted.

He’s worked on historically significant properties where the client wants modern updates but without erasing the past. He navigates those moments carefully. “You don’t want to disturb what’s there, but you also can’t treat it like a museum.” The challenge is to improve the performance of the building without compromising its identity. That’s a responsibility he takes seriously. And it’s one of the reasons he believes preservation and accessibility are part of the same ethic. You’re making things usable, relevant, and respectful, not just newer.

Marek’s way of thinking is shaped by his early training in engineering. He’s detail-oriented because he has to be. “Architecture is a complex system,” he says. “And if you don’t understand how that system works, you’re just throwing things at a wall.” In the studio, colleagues know him as the person who reviews work with precision, catches inconsistencies, and clarifies before anything moves forward. He isn’t trying to edit creativity. He’s trying to protect it from unraveling in the field.

To Marek, even small decisions carry weight. A wall thickness, a turning radius, a step up or down. These are not minor elements. They shape how someone experiences a space, whether they feel included, and whether the architecture is truly doing its job. “If you’re not thinking about how someone enters a space in a wheelchair or with a stroller, then you’re not designing for everyone.”

Nearly a decade into his time at Webber + Studio, Marek’s presence has become a kind of standard. He’s the person who brings things back to the question: Is this doing what we say it’s doing? Is it really fulfilling its purpose? He’s not interested in buildings that perform for photographs. He’s interested in buildings that perform for people.

For Marek, the details aren’t where you add polish. The details are where you deliver the promise.