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.
This single-family house is located within a forest surrounded by farms in Upstate New York. It is a singular building, programmatically stratified within the steeply sloped landscape. Built into the side of a hill and partially buried in the ground, its three distinct levels are all individually accessible and all open onto the landscape. The four pavilions above are both connected to and separated from the house, allowing them to operate autonomously as cabins, guest spaces, greenhouses, and studios. The lower level, buried in the ground, is a large ceramics studio that opens onto an adjacent pond. The main living space is organized one room after another, and connects internally to the levels above and below with a small secondary stair. In this way, three relatively disconnected programs are unified into a singular geometric figure. The abstract figure for the house allows for a double reading: either as a serial system, one part after another, or as a singular crenellated figure, an exaggerated fragment of a castle.
Project Team: Michael Meredith, Hilary Sample, Tim Brennan, Ivi Diamantopoulou, Yann Gay-Crossier, Ceri Edmunds, Igsung So