If given the choice between staring blankly into space or reading architects’ office statements on their website, we choose the first. They all say the same thing: we’re sustainable, responsible with budgets, experienced, award-winning, etc. . . . The game seems to be how to say nothing in particular and comfort any worries of someone contemplating hiring you. After a few clicks, it’s hard not to think that all this quote-unquote professionalism is very cold at its core. We can’t tell you exactly when MOS started. We like to say it was 2003, but we didn’t have an office space then and our name was !@#?, which we quickly found was too difficult to use because 1. you couldn’t pronounce it and 2. you couldn’t get a web address. So, eventually, we drifted towards MOS—an acronym of our names and reflection of a shared desire to be horizontal and fuzzy, as opposed to tall and shiny. We began around an oversized table, a surface for collecting, gathering, and working through a range of design experiments—a make-believe of architectural fantasies, problems, and thoughts. As we’ve grown, we remain around a large table, working together on each project through playful experimentation and serious research. This website indexes that work: housing; schools; houses; cultural institutions; retail; exhibition design; installations; furniture; objects; books; writing; software experiments; and videos.
Krabbesholm Højskole (Denmark) is awarded an AIA NY Excellence Award
MOS Architects receive an AIA New York Award of Merit for Element House
We draw, talk, email, doodle, diagram, render, print, print, draw, model, receive, distribute, call, approve, confirm, reject, plead, deny, laugh, export, import, present, listen, order, zoom, script, post, pan, copy, paste, scale, collate, staple, eat, list, drink, walk, draw, chat, meet, photograph, crop, calculate, draw, adjust, tweak, sip, solve, stack, note, organize, scan, edit, review, print, question, comment, make, sketch . . . and occasionally, we collect things from this process and store them in a flat file.
Location: “Work in Progress” Exhibition, Storefront for Art and Architecture, New York, New York
Date: September 27th–October 22nd, 2016
Another Storefront searches to define a space for architecture within the current fog of commercial development. As such, the LL47 work-in-progress sign for our chosen architectural development—a pair of 32-story, mixed-use towers in East Harlem—is painted over. We unexpectedly saw the sign while on our way to somewhere else, and we’re unsure what the development looks like. . . . It exists as a single blue LL47 sign with a blue cloud of paint, hung on a forest green construction fence that spans nearly an entire Manhattan block. Located next to the the Harlem–125th Street stations, the development site is an obvious hub of activity, development, and anxious concern. Whatever the intent and whoever the author, this small act of graffiti, of blue paint chosen to match the LL47 sign’s background, attempts to erase the (no doubt luxurious) pixelated spectacle and leave the site both empty and indeterminate. It is within this graffitied slice, a spray-painted cloud of deleted commercial development, that we stake out our territory; and it is within the thickness of a wall, in-between competing visions, that we find architecture. This proposal is for Storefront, and for those of us interested in coming together to discuss and wonder what might appear when the fog clears.
Project Team: Michael Meredith, Hilary Sample, Michael Abel, Andrew Frame, Paul Ruppert