Residential
Renovations + Additions
Retail + Commercial
Institutional + Industrial
Sculpture + Installations
35 Lynndale Avenue
Asheville, North Carolina 28806
Brooklyn Office
232 27th Street, #2
Brooklyn, New York 11232
232 27th Street, #2
Brooklyn, New York 11232
Catawba Valley, Virginia
Straddling the threshold of a dense woodland tree line, this non-denominational funerary chapel is designed as a profound phenomenological exploration of grief, transition, and memory. The architecture is deliberately bisected into two distinct zones of use: an enclosed sanctuary chapel and an open-air contemplation pavilion. Positioned precisely on the precipice where the forest meets the clearing, the structures act as a physical manifestation of existential boundaries—mediating between life and death, inside and outside, light and dark, presence and absence. Deeply informed by architectural phenomenology, the design favors sensory experience and emotional resonance over overt religious iconography, crafting an environment that speaks directly to the human condition.
The main chapel is conceived as a somber, introverted vessel of raw materiality, where darkness is intentionally cultivated. Within this shadowed interior, light is treated not as illumination, but as a scarce and sacred element. Minimal, unadorned apertures are placed with surgical, poetic precision, allowing sharp, fleeting shafts of daylight to pierce the gloom; a powerful spatial metaphor for the fragile, brief nature of existence.
In contrast, the adjacent meditation pavilion is an ethereal, open-air pavilion. Here, a weathered steel volume is suspended within a ghostlike silhouette of timber framing, allowing the elements to pass through freely. Upon passing into this space, visitors cross a literal threshold of transition: a ground-level recess that captures the bleeding rust from the suspended steel volume above, marking the boundary of passage. Inlaid into the stone pavement beyond are shallow, coffered recesses designed to capture rainwater. When a mourner bows their head in grief, their downward gaze is unexpectedly caught by these quiet pools and redirected upward, reflecting the shifting, non-denominational heavens above.
Rooted in a regional vernacular, both pavilions are constructed from honest materials intended to oxidize, silver, and erode over time. This intentional embrace of natural weathering and decay mirrors the cyclical nature of life and the inevitability of human passing. The chapel serves as a sensory sanctuary, offering a poignant space where the architecture of mourning becomes a tangible, comforting partner in the process of healing.