From L to R – Otis, Lucy, Arthur, and Adrian
Eight years into his time at Woods Bagot, Adrian has become Adelaide’s resident parametric designer—the person colleagues turn to for complex façades and digital design solutions. Alongside this technical expertise, he has developed a deep specialisation in healthcare and retirement living. These projects, he explains, are anchored in empathy. “You see instantly how architecture touches people’s lives. When you hand over a healthcare building or retirement facility, the gratitude is palpable. It feels different. It feels necessary.”
That conviction moved beyond the studio this year when Adrian became a living donor, giving his youngest son, Arthur, one of his kidneys.
Australia’s Living Donor Program1 allows people—quite often parents—to donate a kidney or part of their liver. Healthy bodies can function with one kidney; for a child with kidney failure, an adult donor can mean the difference between daily dialysis and the possibility of a healthy future.
At 30 weeks’ gestation, doctors discovered that Arthur’s kidneys were not developing. “We knew before his birth that something was wrong,” Adrian recalls. “But we didn’t know what life would look like until he arrived.”
Arthur was born with just ten percent kidney function. Within a week, he was on dialysis—at first administered manually in hospital, and later through a machine that allowed him to come home. For two years, every night, Adrian and his wife connected Arthur to treatment before bed and disconnected him each morning, giving him the best chance at a ‘normal’ day. “We became dialysis nurses as well as parents,” Adrian says. “Hard, but routine.”
From the beginning, transplantation was the goal: keeping Arthur stable until he was big enough for an adult kidney. Both parents underwent exhaustive testing—bloodwork, scans, endless assessments. “They don’t just check compatibility; they make sure you’re strong enough to endure it. I felt tested for everything under the sun,” Adrian recalls.
Arthur and Adrian in the park, two weeks after surgery.
“You see instantly how architecture touches people’s lives. When you hand over a healthcare building or retirement facility, the gratitude is palpable. It feels different. It feels necessary.”
The new Women’s and Children’s Hospital project, South Australia.
The nine-storey hospital will extend the Adelaide Biomed City, located in close proximity to the Royal Adelaide Hospital.
The new hospital will be the first 100 percent electric public hospital in South Australia, with 414 overnight beds – an additional 56 compared to the current hospital – and further capacity to add an extra 20 beds in future.
Woods Bagot is the lead professional services contractor (PSC) for architecture, urban planning, health planning, and interior design, with the design team comprising Bates Smart, Jacobs, BDP and landscape architecture by TCL.
Ultimately, Adrian made the decision to progress as the donor.
“It’s not the simple act of heroism people imagine,” he admits. “People say, ‘Of course you’d do anything for your child.’ But when you’re in that position, it’s not hypothetical anymore. You weigh your health, you think about your role as the breadwinner, you think about your family. There’s pride, yes, but also fear.”
In May, in Melbourne, Adrian and Arthur underwent surgery to complete the transplant.
Three months on, Arthur is recovering with new energy and brightness. His care continues with weekly hospital visits, but the difference is clear. “He’s running around now,” Adrian says. “It’s surreal to think that one of my organs is helping him thrive.”
The process, however, is not as simple as it might appear. “We’re doing everything the doctors ask. The tests come back and they say, ‘That’s good, that’s normal.’ But it’s still hard. You don’t just have a transplant and suddenly everything is fixed. It doesn’t work that way. It’s a long process of care, and we’re not fully out of the woods yet, but the improvements have been positive.”
Adrian’s own recovery has been steady. “Now unless I see the scar, I don’t think about it,” he says. “I feel myself again—back at work, back in a rhythm.”
The journey has been anchored by the support of his family. Adrian credits his wife Lucy, who carried the weight of primary care, and his eldest son, Otis, who adapted with quiet resilience. “Otis has taken everything in his stride. He was pulled out of kindy to spend a month in Melbourne for the transplant. He’s lived through constant disruption. And yet he’s been incredible. I’m so proud of him.”
Support also came from the studio. Woods Bagot offered flexibility and stability when Adrian feared he might need to choose between career and family. “I’d visit Arthur in the hospital in the mornings, then come into work late, leave early to go back again. Later, when I needed eight weeks off for surgery, there was never hesitation. The response was: go, take care of your family, we’ll make it work. That gave me space to keep growing in both parts of my life.”
“Having gone through something like this, you realise that architecture at its core is about people,” he reflects. “It’s changed how I approach my work, my family, my life. Seeing Arthur thrive is the most powerful reminder of what really matters.”
Architecture itself was never far from the experience. While Arthur was being treated in Adelaide’s Women’s and Children’s Hospital, Adrian was working on the new one. “Each morning I’d sit with doctors in the existing old building and then go into the office to design its replacement. It was a reminder that architecture is never abstract—it’s about people, dignity, and care.”
Looking back, he describes the journey as brutal, but transformative. “It was bloody hard. But you come through it. And you realise you’re part of this very small group of people who’ve lived it. There’s pride, but also a shift in how you see life—with more empathy, more patience, more gratitude.”
That shift now flows into his work. Healthcare and retirement living projects carry a deeper personal resonance. “You know firsthand how much design matters when it comes to comfort and community. That sense of purpose stays with you.”
For Adrian, the transplant is more than a personal chapter—it has reshaped his practice. “Having gone through something like this, you realise that architecture at its core is about people,” he reflects. “It’s changed how I approach my work, my family, my life. Seeing Arthur thrive is the most powerful reminder of what really matters.”
The family at a Kidney Health Australia Event at Monarto Safari Park.
Media enquiries Adrien Moffatt Content and Communications Specialist (Australia)
Adelaide, Australia
13 Oct 23
13 Aug 23