Current Work
Selected Publications and Exhibitions
Office Statement

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, sometimes we say 2005, but we were drifting from place to place, 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. In 2008, we were licensed and became a legal entity, but we had already had an office and made some buildings. At some point, 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. We are now located in New York, we have grown a little, but remain around a large table, working together on each project through playful experimentation and serious research. We have won some awards. We have written some books. We have built some buildings. We are currently making more. This website indexes that work: housing; schools; houses; cultural institutions; retail; exhibition design; installations; furniture; objects; books; writing; software experiments; and videos.


— Michael Meredith, Hilary Sample

Project Index
General Information
226 W 135th St. NY, NY 10030
866 431 3928
Selected Awards

MOS receives an AIA New York State Honor Award for School No. 3 (Petite École)


Krabbesholm Højskole (Denmark) is awarded an AIA NY Excellence Award
MOS receives an AIA New York Award of Merit for Element House

Flat File

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 store them in a flat file.

MOS: Michael Meredith, Hilary Sample, Paul Ruppert, Robert Crabtree, Charles Dorrance-King, Lafina Eptaminitaki, Yam Chumpolphaisal, Julia Muntean, Victoria Abel, Zane Mechem, ...

© MOS Architects PLLC

Web site by Studio Lin 

Programming by Brazen

An Unfinished Encyclopedia of Model Furniture without Architecture
An Unfinished Encyclopedia of Model Furniture without Architecture

Reproductions of Reproductions of Reproductions (Model Furniture)

An obsession with the banal stuff that occupies the background of architectural representation, the things we fill architectural spaces with, eventually led us to looking at the model furniture fashioned and photographed by architects. Close-ups of generic, nearly notational chairs; fields of wobbly stools, each with its legs so slightly out of alignment; the most mundane shelving systems imaginable; entirely abstracted blocks turned modular benches or cabinets or who-knows, nondescript tables, and displays; reproductions of reproductions of reproductions of mid-century modern chairs; miniature prototypes or replicas of the architect’s own for-sale designs; indescribable things distorted from the humidity; ergonomic, bodily curves turned 2-D extrusions; tables with an impossible materiality, woodgrain so cartoonishly out of scale; seats proportioned a little too high or low, supports floating or bodies off-kilter; etc… These miniature objects, made by both armies of interns and careful craftspersons, populate models by architecture offices large and small. They’re a sort of representational default, a reduction to the bare qualities of an object. Made with the wrong sized tools—i.e. human hands—and with the wrong material, the models are translations of translations: from a chair to a model to a chair again, or from reality/reference to replica to representation. This scalar shift produces another condition, something familiar but different or slightly-off, akin to the effects of shifting resolution when one blows up an image. Collecting these photographs of model furniture into a single catalog, An Unfinished Catalog of Model Furniture without Architecture, we used these various characteristics as a starting point for translations of our own design in a new furniture series titled “Model Furniture.” Scaling up these miniatures toward their originals while maintaining their reductive, archetypal forms and indifference to use, the resulting chairs, stools, and shelves are at the same time reference and referent, original and copy, reality and representation.