For David Thompson, founder of Assembledge+, the Laurel Hills Residence is not just another project. It is a personal one. Designed for his own family, the house becomes a distilled expression of his architectural thinking, where landscape, structure, and daily life are carefully interwoven.
The project begins with a simple but powerful idea. Architecture should not sit apart from its surroundings, but grow out of them. That thinking shaped the entire process, from the earliest stages. Rather than rushing into design, Thompson and his family chose to live on the site first, observing it over time. This decision allowed them to understand how light moves, how the seasons shift, and how the land itself could inform the final form.
The result is a house that feels grounded and responsive. Composed of three distinct pavilions connected by glass corridors, the structure breaks down the scale of the home while creating a sense of movement between spaces. The architecture unfolds gradually, guiding you through a sequence of experiences rather than presenting itself all at once.
This sense of progression is central to the project. Thompson describes the creative process as something that evolves from intuition into clarity. “During the initial phases I love… discovering a shared excitement about the design potential,” he explains, pointing to the importance of early ideas taking shape through collaboration.
That excitement, however, is only part of the story. The true test comes later, when the house is completed and inhabited. For Thompson, this moment carries particular weight. “There is a moment when the architecture is finally touched by the real sunlight… at which point it truly comes alive.” It is a reminder that architecture is never static. It is activated by light, by people, and by time.
At Laurel Hills, this activation is most evident in the relationship between inside and out. Large openings dissolve the boundary between interior spaces and the surrounding landscape, allowing the house to extend outward. The entire site is treated almost as a continuous living environment, where courtyards, pathways, and planted areas function as rooms in their own right.
This approach draws directly from mid-century principles, yet it is not nostalgic. Thompson acknowledges the influence of figures such as Neutra and Schindler, particularly in their pursuit of fluidity between indoors and outdoors. But here, those ideas are reinterpreted through a contemporary lens, refined and adapted to current ways of living.
One of the most compelling elements of the house is its inward focus. Rather than orienting itself toward distant views, the design creates a more intimate relationship with its immediate surroundings. Courtyards, olive trees, and carefully framed vistas establish a sense of calm enclosure. The experience is less about spectacle and more about immersion.
This is reinforced by the material palette. Western red cedar, dark cement board, and glass are used with restraint, allowing the house to sit quietly within its setting. The materials do not seek attention. Instead, they support the broader spatial idea, aging naturally and reinforcing the connection to the landscape.
The project also carries a deeper narrative tied to the site itself. A long-vanished creek once ran through the property, and this history is subtly referenced in the design. A glass hallway bridges two parts of the house, tracing the former path of the stream. It is a quiet gesture, but one that anchors the architecture in memory as well as place.
Beyond form and material, the house reflects a broader shift in how we think about living environments. Thompson points to “wellness in architecture” as a defining direction, where design supports physical and emotional wellbeing while responding to environmental concerns. Here, that idea is expressed through both spatial openness and practical systems, from solar panels to water-saving strategies.
Ultimately, the Laurel Hills Residence is not about a single defining feature. Its strength lies in how all elements come together. Structure, landscape, light, and daily routines are aligned into a coherent whole.
It is a house that does not impose itself. Instead, it creates the conditions for living well, allowing architecture to recede just enough so that life, in all its small and shifting moments, can take the lead.
