Designed for downtown Denver, the Museum of Spatial Arts integrates with the context while also creating spaces of reflection. There are voids that create a system of reveals throughout the building. The reveals connect the site context to the facade, as well as connecting the gallery spaces to each other. The reveals create moments of reflection and enable fluid circulation. As one journeys through the museum, more is revealed. The facade helps to tell the gradual story of the transitioning reveals.
The Museum of Object Art (MOA) is situated on a site in downtown Denver that sits adjacent to Cherry Creek, which is lined with pedestrian and bicycle pathways. This enables the location to receive a variety of visitors, as vehicles, pedestrians and cyclists circulate the site as passersby.
The MOA acts as a connection between the two city streets, Wynkoop and Wazee. As Wynkoop is a dead end for vehicular traffic, it lends itself well to a main entryway into the museum. The main approach occurs instinctively from all sides — the Creek, walkways and sidewalks — and the museum’s protruding over the street invites visitors in.
Along the procession throughout the museum, the visitor experiences a succession of moments that are guided by a series of lighting qualities and materiality. These spaces have similar qualities that tie these experiences together.
The main gallery (MOA Box) becomes the central communal/exhibition space, and the specified circulation denies instantaneous arrival, although the translucency of the box emits a diffuse light quality that makes the box the primary space to visit.
The three main spatial moments become distinctive entities as materiality and textures are used in order to connect these experiences together. A variation of concrete for the exterior, Venetian plaster for interior galleries, a translucent material for the central gallery, and wood for other places of gathering become characteristic of interior and exterior spaces.
This design for a museum in downtown Denver responds to the surrounding context of the site at 1400 Wynkoop, as well as to the needs and philosophies of the artist Olafur Eliasson. The design reflects the tension inherent in the context, as the urban grid pushes up against the naturalness of Cherry Creek and vice versa (by bringing in organic forms juxtaposed against square blocks). The museum’s continuous, figure-eight circulation gently draws visitors in and carries them through compressed “dark” galleries on the ground floor to “light” galleries on the second, where they experience Eliasson’s range of work, from visual to installation art.
The intent is to develop a domestic space that serves to redefine the relationship between park ranger and visitor. It is a departure from the ubiquitous ranger station, where kiosks and placards only separate ranger and visitor from each other, and also disengage one another from context of the site. Via this study, the domestic form persuades circulation, where moments of anticipation and reflection serve as a catalyst to strengthen the bond between self, other and context of the site.
Even a static object changes with time and offers a sense of movement when exposed to the natural environment. These structures – small, eco-homes made of shipping containers – act as objects that allow elements to fluidly pass through, thus allowing an experience that is unified. They are a medium to re-evaluate how we look at nature and our relationship with it.
The spatial manipulations in these three graphics are the primary architectural elements driving the design of the Castlewood Canyon State Park Ranger Station. The Division-Union Axis, which is the main corridor, separates while simultaneously linking the domestic space and the public functions. The secondary Cross Axis directs visitors from the primary corridor to the ranger’s desk, where they will encounter park information and public restrooms beyond. The tertiary Poché Axis, developed through a continuous poured-concrete retaining wall, visually links the two distinct zones of the design
This urban home in pursuit of reverie is located along the eastern edge of Denver’s Cheesman Park and was designed to repurpose the traditional shipping container structure for an elevated vertical form. Divided into four levels, the rectangular container form hosts traditional programmatic space while the stairs become sunlit appendages leading circulation through each floor. Its highest point, the removed studio, is a space looking upward, designed for isolated thought and introspection.