As Mexican architect Frida Escobedo undertakes the monumental task of designing a new wing for the Metropolitan Museum of Art, she reflects on the significance of immigrant labor, cultural resilience, and the quiet defiance of creativity amid political headwinds. With a transnational studio bridging Mexico City and New York, Escobedo’s work is both a physical and symbolic testament to the power of global collaboration in the face of rising nationalism and restrictive trade policies.
Designing in a time of division
Frida Escobedo is no stranger to navigating complex cultural landscapes. As the first woman from Mexico to design a wing of the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York, her commission has become as much a symbol of political nuance as it is of artistic prestige. The project has drawn her deeper into the city’s fabric—not just architecturally, but socially and politically.
Opening a New York office to complement her practice in Mexico City was a move rooted in necessity. Yet, in a recent interview with Dezeen, Escobedo acknowledged the timing of that expansion was fortuitous. “We were incredibly lucky that that happened before this time – I don’t know if it would be possible right now to do it the same way,” she remarked, referencing the growing administrative and financial hurdles under the Trump administration’s trade and immigration policies.
Her concerns are not unfounded. The U.S. government’s imposition of a 25% tariff on Mexican goods—and more broadly, an aggressive stance on immigration—has sent ripples through multiple industries, including construction and design. With raw material costs rising and uncertainty looming over work visas, architects and builders who rely on transnational collaboration are feeling the squeeze.
New York, a city built by immigrants
For Escobedo, the political climate only amplifies the symbolic weight of her work at the Met. During the official presentation of her project in the museum’s auditorium, she felt compelled to voice something beyond architecture. “I had a feeling that I had to acknowledge all the immigrant people that make New York City so great,” she said. “It’s really sad to see how that is becoming less evident.”
Her words reflect a deep personal and professional connection to the city’s immigrant identity. New York’s architecture, culture, and vitality have long been built on the labor and ingenuity of people from around the world. Escobedo’s own team, diverse and international, mirrors the multicultural DNA of the metropolis. “We see it every day,” she said. “This city is a city of immigrants, it has always been. It’s important to resist and to prove the value of the hard work that all of us are doing.”
Resistance, for Escobedo, does not necessarily come through confrontation—it comes through creation. It lies in establishing spaces that celebrate cultural exchange and intellectual diversity, in continuing to do the work with excellence despite the barriers, and in using visibility to assert presence.
Architecture caught in the crossfire
The Trump administration’s trade policies have introduced significant volatility into an already complex economic equation for architects working across borders. With tariffs affecting materials such as steel, aluminum, and manufactured goods, construction costs for large-scale cultural projects like Escobedo’s are at risk of ballooning.
The ripple effect could be particularly damaging to sustainable architecture and affordable housing—sectors that depend on both cost efficiency and global supply chains. “Tariffs on Mexican goods don’t just impact large corporations,” Escobedo pointed out. “They affect smaller studios, community-driven projects, and public spaces where every dollar counts.”
Moreover, the tightening of immigration rules has introduced another layer of uncertainty. Even professionals with valid work visas are navigating an increasingly hostile environment, where bureaucratic delays and policy changes can disrupt entire projects. For design teams made up of international talent, these shifts represent more than an inconvenience—they threaten the collaborative essence of the discipline.
The power of presence and persistence
Despite these challenges, Escobedo remains committed to her dual-city practice and the message her work conveys. Architecture, she believes, is a vessel not just for aesthetics and utility, but for cultural narratives and collective memory. “We’re not just designing spaces,” she said. “We’re creating environments that tell stories—stories about who we are, where we come from, and how we live together.”
In many ways, the Met expansion stands as a counterpoint to the political forces trying to pull societies apart. It brings a Mexican woman architect to the heart of one of America’s most venerable institutions. It bridges borders, not through policy or protest, but through bricks, mortar, and vision.
Escobedo is under no illusions about the scale of the task ahead. But she also sees in it an opportunity—a chance to subtly reshape the narrative, to affirm the value of immigrant contributions, and to resist exclusion not with anger, but with elegance. “It’s important to resist,” she said. “And to keep proving the value of our work.”
