by Giuseppe Zuozo Jr.

Given the Italian name, Giuseppe, I am a first-generation Italian American coming back home to study Architecture in Florence, where it all got started.

Born and raised in the county of Dade. 305 Miami is my forever home. So, leaving my family, friends, and especially my best friend, Zaza, an elderly blind basset hound, was one of the hardest decisions I ever had to make. Weirdly enough, though, he was at ease with my decision because I knew I was still coming home, my ancestral home.

Getting a chance to study Architecture in Florence, an architectural epicenter, was not one I could pass up. I needed to soak up as much knowledge as possible and as quickly as possible, as I knew before even starting, I was already way behind my peers. Not architecture nor interior design, my background is in fact in Civil Engineering. I know,w shocking, but I did complete my freshman year in architecture and ever since it has always been calling me back. At the age of 32, I finally picked up the call and plunged headfirst into the thick of it, enrolling at the STAR Florence Design School.

Form over Function or was it Function over Form?

The tale as old as time for architects has been which came first, the form or the function, but what if form and function were created with equal parts beauty and purpose? Now, welcome to Italy, where the grass is green and the buildings are pretty.

Before coming to study Architecture in Florence, I saw things very black and white, not literally, of course (also side note: begs the question, can colorblind people be successful interior designers?). With my engineering glasses on, I see we need a structural column, but since being in Italy and putting on my architectural glasses, I now ask why can’t this necessary structural column also be a piece of art? It should be applauded for its beauty rather than tucked away behind a wall only its functional use.

Work, Work, Work, Work, Work, Work

Since I first set foot on campus, I pride myself on having worked hard (but also enjoyed some of the dolce vita whenever possible. All work and no play makes Giuseppe a dull boy) and making giant strides from project to project. The proof is in the pudding; take a gander at my first project in the summer of 2024 and compare it to my latest one. Night and day, kinda scary.
In my first project, we were to create a structure for the Piazza Ognissanti that celebrates ourselves as humans. Accurately called the “Space of the Self” project. Albeit being very difficult to express yourself, your essence in material form. I found it enlightening to help uncover one of the most difficult questions in life. Who am I?
At the time, I wasn’t technically gifted enough to express my design ideas on paper, so I had to settle for a toned-down version of what I wanted. Not saying I did, but there’s a strong possibility I may have gotten frustrated with SketchUp and just started randomly connecting lines until a plane formed, and just went with it for the exterior facade

One Small Step for a Man, One Giant Leap for Giuseppe

Fast-forwarding to the end of the year, December 2024. I worked on a project I never in my life thought was going to come across my plate: design a livable structure for astronauts on Mars. Rightfully so, you’re probably asking what an Italian design school has to do with Mars and why they are soliciting a design from me?

First, the connection came about because Prada was selected to design the new spacesuits for NASA’s next mission. Then, I was asked because the school wanted to incorporate my engineering background into what I had learned so far. A truly unique take on design thinking—where technical feasibility and aesthetic vision had to exist in balance, even 140 million miles from Earth. It was the first time I truly saw how my past and present could merge to shape the future.

The Italian Days are Over

As I near the end of my time here at the STAR Florence Design School, I look back and reminisce. I prepare to leave Florence and close this incredible chapter. I’m struck by how far I’ve come, not just in skill, but in mindset. What started as a return to my ancestral roots became a rebirth of purpose and creativity. I arrived as an engineer chasing a forgotten dream and am leaving as a designer who sees the world not just in lines and loads, but in layers of meaning, beauty, and emotion. Florence has shown me that form and function don’t have to compete—they can collaborate. And as I head back to Miami, I do so not with a sense of ending, but with the tools and inspiration to keep building—spaces, stories, and maybe even a new home for Zaza with a little more flair.