Inside a remarkable Catskills house inspired by oak leaves

Desai Chia House — (Image credit: Paul Warchol)

What began as a familiar New York story — a couple seeking a weekend retreat from the city — quickly took an unexpected turn. Their initial desire was modest: perhaps a cabin in the woods upstate — a place to decompress, hike and step away from Manhattan’s intensity. But as the project unfolded, it became something far richer: a vessel for immersion in the landscape and the foundation for a working farm that now shapes the rhythm of daily life.

The clients were drawn north during the pandemic, seeking land within driving distance, yet remote enough to feel worlds away. They settled on an 86-acre site in Columbia County long used for ranching and livestock, defined by undulating hills, stone walls and a rocky crest with sweeping views toward the Catskill Mountains. ‘This property is magical,’ the wife says. ‘It’s wooded, but not overgrown—very peaceful. We didn’t want to see neighbours or hear traffic. We wanted to feel completely removed.’

The sense of discovery only deepened as they explored. ‘We were amazed by the diversity,’ adds the husband, ‘with evergreens, white birches, open meadows, a spring-fed pond.’

Early walks across the property proved decisive not only for the clients, but also for the architects, Arjun Desai and Katherine Chia of New York–based Desai Chia Architecture. ‘We were tasked to create a sense of place without destroying it,’ says Chia. ‘The site’s varied ecosystem and opportunities for engaging with it mean it will grow with the owners over time, and never feel static.’

That sensibility, she adds, is central to the firm’s work: creating places that offer a renewed experience, so that every return brings a sense of inspiration and a deeper appreciation for how architecture and landscape meld together.

The architects’ philosophy aligned closely with the clients’ own hopes for the house. Beyond accommodating visits from their three grown children, they wanted a home inseparable from its setting. Professionally, the husband is a cybersecurity attorney who defends some of the world’s largest companies from digital threats; here, he and his wife were seeking something resolutely analog. ‘We wanted to live in a place that was in sync with the surroundings, where you are inside, but can feel outside at the same time,’ he says.

As the team’s understanding of the property grew, atmosphere became as important as form. ‘It felt like the trees were creating an architectural canopy across the site, casting shade and dappled light,’ Chia says. That observation proved catalytic, leading the architects to model light and shadow as active agents in the house’s ongoing dialogue with the landscape.

The resulting design is a low, elongated structure set atop the site’s crest, anchored by a central, glass-walled span containing the main living spaces and bookended by primary and guest bedroom wings. In the latter, Desai notes, a central hall reads like a barn aisle, with workhorse functions — mudroom and dog wash — running along one side, and guest suites and a media room along the other. Approaching the house, the eye is drawn straight through the central glazed ‘bridge’ to the mountains beyond, turning the landscape into the project’s primary axis.

One of the house’s most distinctive features — a sweeping, curved roof — takes its cues from the forest. Studying oak leaves and the shadows they cast, the team translated those organic forms into architecture. ‘The roof was inspired by the shape of the leaf,’ Chia explains. ‘Its curves, which direct rainwater to large scuppers, project light and shadow across the building and the ground.’

Deep overhangs shelter outdoor living areas while drawing the landscape inward, softening the boundary between inside and out. The permeability continues indoors. ‘We chose to have the light be diffuse and not direct, for a sense of calmness,’ says Desai. Southern light enters clerestories, then washes down curved light scoops and across vaulted ceilings, carrying daylight deep into the house.

Material choices reinforce the project’s balance between refinement and utility, mirroring the clients’ desire for a home that is livable and unfussy. ‘We thought of the house as a part of an agricultural complex,’ says Desai, ‘hence the use of corrugated aluminium panels and wood board siding.’ The rippling skin follows the building’s curves, catching and reflecting light. Accoya wood appears beneath overhangs and in select interior zones, while wide-plank oak floors ground the spaces with warmth and texture.

If the architecture establishes the house as a platform for experiencing nature, the landscape turns that experience into a way of life. Early in the process, the husband half-jokingly mentioned raising animals — alpacas, perhaps. ‘All of a sudden it just happened,’ he says. ‘One minute we were talking about animals in the future, and the next we had a barn with sheep, goats, livestock guardian dogs, mini donkeys, chickens.’

Pastures, trails, and outbuildings extend across the site. A guest house overlooking a swimming pool doubles as a home office, deliberately set apart so work never encroaches on domestic life. Farther afield, the polycarbonate-clad barn and greenhouse — glowing like lanterns at dusk — anchor the farm. What began as an escape has become an active, daily engagement with the land.

Looking back, both architect and client describe the project as transformative. ‘It pushed us to the next level of exploring design, form, and how we think about materials,’ Chia reflects. For the clients, it marked the beginning of an entirely new chapter. They didn’t set out to build a farm, but the house made it possible—inviting them to slow down, to notice the passage of time across days and seasons. It has completely reshaped not just where they live, but how they live now.

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The former managing editor of Architectural Record and The New York Observer, Beth Broome writes about architecture, design, urbanism, and culture. She is based in Brooklyn, New York.