Susan Sontag defined ‘camp’ as a cult sensibility formed around an appreciation for artifice. With earnest love for failure and exaggeration, this ‘camp’ provides a queer way of seeing through the moral seriousness of modernity.

Summer Camp is the rural cousin to Sontag’s, a heterotopia in the woods. With a formal language of vernacular theatricality, its architecture enables spaces for domestic collectivity and the rehearsal of plastic folklores. 

These ‘camps’ produce two conflicting queer sensibilities that could generate a contemporary architecture of the urban pastoralBetween them we find a method for making ‘camp’ as a disobedient architecture of everyday estrangement. 
Harvard Graduate School of Design
Thesis advised by Jennifer Bonner
January 2019


The global comfort industry is infiltrated with dastardly schemes of radical density. Ideas on collective sleep form a hotel in Doha, Qatar.

Harvard Graduate School of Design
Vincent Bandy Studio
Fall 2016


Trash is imagined as a third and indeterminate state of matter that might help us deal with the problem of deep architectural time. Too purposeless to belong to the world of objects, not blank enough to be fully absorbed into thing-ness, Trash is an outcast - the indeterminate midpoint between object and thing. It sits uncomfortably unstuck in time, awaiting entropy but not fully dissolved.

The tools of architecture are here applied to various collections of trash in order to understand the structures of this indeterminate world of matter. Orthography applied to trash reads like the opposite of archaeology, embracing obscurity and undermining specificity. In drawings, the seemingly stable rules of projection are mis-used to produce disorder and inscrutability, positioning the architect as the possible opposite of the archaeologist, diving head-first into the strange pseudo-structures of entropy.

︎Published in Issue 01 of See/Saw

Harvard Graduate School of Design
Mack Scogin studio
Spring 2018


Los Angeles’ history of loose construction seems to confound the very real problems the city faces in a rapidly deteriorating climate and severe crisis of housing. The cheap and dirty methods of building with which we’ve grown comfortable now seem wasteful and shortsighted. Our impulse is to tighten things up: seal the gaps, sink the foundation, and accumulate layers of protection on building skins. 

Our entry for Low-Rise: Housing Ideas for Los Angeles proposes a looser alternative, a radically sustainable typology that adapts LA’s blasé vernacular to the city’s new priorities. With a non-commital attitude towards its own site, a commitment to stupidly smart assemblies, carbon-hungry hemp-based materials, and a communal approach to outdoor living, we feel that the very looseness that has helped push the city to the brink of crisis could in fact become its saving grace.

With Jonathan Rieke, Benzion Rodman, and Morgan Starkey January 2021


Rocks are the best system of communication humanity has ever devised. Inscriptions in stones from tens of thousands of years ago remain legible today.

Having appeared without explanation, the rocks remain steadfast across manycenturies, outliving thefleeting civilization that pops up around them. Serving as an amenity tosome and a warning to others, the rocks listen to the stories of passers-by and transmit them through time to others who might need to hear them. Their function is a mystery, but their benevolent and stubborn presence has made them a fixture of the region

Harvard Graduate School of Design