Níall McLaughlin Architects Names New Directors
November 2025

Níall McLaughlin Architects is excited to announce significant changes to its leadership, with four long-standing Associates being promoted to Directors. With a combined seven decades of experience at the practice between them, Anne Schroell, Tim Allen-Booth, Tilo Guenther and Tom McGlynn will shape the future of Níall McLaughlin Architects. This promotion rewards their commitment and contribution to the practice, recognising their leadership, work on key projects, business development and office wide initiatives. The new Directors will work closely with founding Principal Níall McLaughlin to build on the practice’s reputation for design excellence and promote a model of practice that is equitable, diverse and inclusive, and sustainable.
Tom McGlynn joined the practice in 2014 and was the Project Associate on The International Rugby Experience in Limerick voted as Ireland’s favourite building in 2023, and West Court Jesus College in Cambridge winning an RIBA Project Architect of the Year Award in 2018.
Tim Allen-Booth joined the practice in 2006 and was the Project Associate on The Bishop Edward King Chapel in Oxfordshire which was RIBA Stirling Prize Shortlisted in 2013, and The New Library Magdalene College in Cambridge winning the RIBA Stirling Prize in 2022.
Anne Schroell joined the practice in 2006 and was the Project Associate on the Faith Museum in Bishop Auckland which won the RIBA North East Building of the Year in 2024 and Grand Prize Winner of the Building Beauty Awards in 2024, and is currently the Project Associate on the Maggie’s Centre in Cambridge.
Tilo Guenther joined the practice in 2006 and was Project Associate on Darbishire Place in Whitechapel, which was RIBA Stirling Prize Shortlisted in 2015, and Saltmarsh House, which was Shortlisted for House of the Year in 2023.
Craftlines
August 2015

My grandfather has worn many hats; soldier, civil servant, father of seven, husband, and winner of a county final in hurling (the achievement of which he is potentially most proud). He is fluent in Irish and recalls event and dates from 50 years ago with a staggering accuracy. Yet the residing image of him from my childhood is as a craftsman – in the garage next to his house in Dublin, whittling and sanding a piece of ash to form a hurley, sizing it precisely for the user, wrapping the handle to create the perfect hold. I remember sitting, playing surreptitiously with a clamp, watching this in awe: the creation of the perfect instrument from a piece of timber; a skill honed through practice and an unfailing attention to detail. I marvelled at the assurance of it all, the promise in his hands.
It would be satisfyingly simple to attribute my choice of career to these moments – to claim there was an epiphany in watching him, a sudden realisation that I wanted to be an architect, to create. In reality, however, the path was not so linear; instead the conviction that I wanted to become an architect embedded itself in my consciousness slowly, over time. The memory of him working in his garage was one I didn’t return to often, and like any story we fail to repeatedly tell ourselves, it languished, dormant, in the recesses of my mind.
I recently went to site at Jesus College, Cambridge, where we are working on a project that is part new build, part refurbishment. An aspect of the refurbishment involves the adaptation of eight bookcases in the magnificent former library into wall panelling. The existing bookcases are a dark stained timber, designed by Maurice Webb in the 1920s and wonderfully crafted by a masterful hand. Reworking these without compromising their beauty would be a challenge for any craftsman.
On seeing the work the joiner had done, I realised there was no cause for worry – it had been executed with confident, competent hands. In that moment, the memory of my grandfather in his garage came back to me in glorious Technicolor; and I felt a familiar thrill at the embodied potential of the right material in the hands of a craftsman, with promise in his hands.