You could easily miss the house. Glimpsed from a narrow roadway outside Saratoga Springs, Michael Meredith and Hilary Sample’s multigenerational family retreat seems not unlike the many barns that dot upstate New York. And sometimes, when weather conditions are just so, its metal cladding nearly disappears into the sky. But careful observers will be rewarded for taking a closer look.

Underneath its agricultural complexion, the building represents an intellectually ambitious—and heartfelt—attempt at connecting people to the landscape and to one another.

Michael and Hilary knew they would design their own rural residence ever since they cofounded architecture studio MOS in 2008. Michael explains that the couple felt a career obligation to experience their design skills firsthand, “to know what we’re offering to clients.”

They also wanted an escape from the urban environments where their uniquely cerebral work has the most supporters. (Inquisitive and convention-busting methods earned MOS a Cooper Hewitt, Smithsonian Design Museum National Design Award in 2015.)

The bedroom furniture is by MOS, and the bedding is by Pendleton." layout="bleed" credit="Photo by Michael Vahrenwald" photoUserId="6133437583490613248"/>

They had purchased 40 acres of woods and meadow near Michael’s parents’ home in a suburb of Saratoga Springs in 2010. A few years later, teaching jobs—Michael at Princeton and Hilary at Columbia—brought them to Manhattan. Shortly after moving there, the couple learned they were expecting twins. “Coming to New York galvanized us to do something with the property, so the family could be in nature and we could have a place to reset,” Hilary says.

The pendants are by Flos, and the Frame table is by Hay." layout="" credit="Photo by Michael Vahrenwald" photoUserId="6133437583490613248"/>

The architects designed a 2,500-square-foot home spread out on a single level that would accommodate the couple, the twins, and two sets of grandparents. The idea of a garden courtyard was a constant over myriad schemes—it meant having easily reachable vegetables, herbs, and perennials for teaching the twins about how things grow. “We didn’t want our kids to just buy everything, but to understand where things come from,” says Hilary.

“Vernacular buildings have a lot of embedded intelligence. They take into consideration problems of construction, economy, and material availability.”
—Michael Meredith, architect and resident

The Range and hood is by Miele, and the refrigerator is by Sub-Zero." layout="" credit="Photo by Michael Vahrenwald" photoUserId="6133437583490613248"/>

In addition to creating an optimal all-ages destination, Hilary and Michael embraced the project as a laboratory for exploring design concepts. In particular, they wanted to foster a more intimate relationship with the landscape than one might feel in an archetypal, hillside commanding glass box. And attempting to further blur lines, they wondered: Could the interiors flow into one another so freely that no space seems like the territory of a specific occupant?

Michael and Hilary half-jokingly say that“splat” went the answer. The duo divided the house into five approximately 15-by-30-foot modules radiating from the courtyard. Viewed from above, the house resembles a splatter pattern, or perhaps a child’s traced hand where the thumb and pinky are spread wide and the courtyard is toward the bottom center of the palm.

Abundant glass guarantees immersion in the landscape. Each metal-wrapped module is perforated by windows and sliding doors that measure an impressive seven feet square. Circling the house, you can use any slider to enter the building, though a poured concrete step subtly signals the front door.

The bench and chairs were designed by MOS." layout="wide" credit="Photo by Michael Vahrenwald" photoUserId="6133437583490613248"/>

Inside, the sense of openness deepens. Partitions take the place of interior walls, equally—there is no discernible primary suite. Of the remaining two modules, only two rows of mint-colored metal cabinetry differentiate the kitchen from the playroom. The absence of traditional privacy devices, not to mention a domestic pecking order, can make you forget which room is which and who sleeps where, to which Hilary responds, “This project was meant to force a reevaluation of how we live.”

It is too soon to say whether the house will compel Americans to dream about home ownership that is as non hierarchical and immersed in nature as this heady reinterpretation of a farming compound.

But the home, which started in 2016 and took three years to complete, is already paying dividends. It inspired Hilary and Michael to write and illustrate the recently released Houses for Sale—ostensibly a children’s book but really a critical history of modern architecture—and this fall, Brussels gallery Maniera will be offering the couple’s furniture for sale.

“In architecture, we tend toward natural materials and raw metals. In furniture, we like color.”
—Michael Meredith

Within the family, the house was an instant boon. The twins, now 7, help Mom with gardening and clearing paths in the woods, and they identify animal species they see on hikes with Dad using field guides stowed back at the house. Michael’s parents constantly remark on the calming effect of the building, and Hilary’s mom gets her steps in just walking from module to module. “It’s a totally different way of being in the world,” Michael says.

Project Credits:

Architect of Record: MOS / @mmmosarchitects

Engineering: Silman Engineering / @silman.structural

Cabinetry Design: MOS / @mmmosarchitects

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A Multigenerational Home in Upstate New York Experiments With Eye-Popping Color