The new centre for the Office of Religious and Spiritual Life and Contemplative Practices (RSLCP) at Vassar College in Poughkeepsie, New York, is a poignant lesson in how to craft a communal, multi-faith space that is attuned to students’ needs, and able to evolve alongside them. Led by the New York– and Beirut-based practice L.E.FT, the renovation of Pratt House, originally built in 1915 as the living quarters of the College warden, comprises deft architectural interventions that are complemented by thoughtfully appointed interiors with a deeply inclusive ethos. Once a private home, the Gothic Revival building is now the public domain of a diverse cohort: members of 12 religious and spiritual groups that gather for activities including prayer and meditation, cooking and dining and social events.

To accommodate the groups’ various core needs, and to reflect the RSLCP’s dedication to the practices of sharing and mutual tolerance, L.E.FT transformed the red-brick residence with a halal and kosher kitchen and a dining space (plus administrative offices) on the ground floor, and a prayer and meditation room on the upper level. In the latter space, now accessed via a birch plywood–clad staircase, the architects removed the ceiling to uncover the dramatically pitched roof of the attic above. The result is a double-height volume that soars heavenward, and is framed by the original wooden rafters, which lend the white-washed space a bold, graphic feel.

These structural gestures represent the project’s broad strokes. At every level, though, and right down to the details, it’s clear that L.E.FT designed the student centre both for and in collaboration with its many users. The studio leaned into the particularities (some shared, some not) of the various belief systems that Pratt House now embraces, seeking to create a place with multiple meanings that resonate with each subgroup rather than a generic hub meant for everyone and anyone, and ultimately appealing to no one.

To that end, it held a series of workshops inside the building prior to its transformation in order to better understand students’ needs and wishes. This was familiar terrain — in addition to its scholarly research into religious architecture, L.E.FT designed the Amir Shakib Arslan mosque and led the restoration effort of the historical synagogue in Alley Village, both in Lebanon — but it still came with its welcome surprises.

“It was so illuminating,” recalls Ziad Jamaleddine, who established the firm with Makram el Kadi in 2005. “When you ask this younger generation about their understanding of certain practices, it is slightly different than when you ask religious institutions. The students were much more permissive and accepting of others, even when discussing religious representation.” For instance, while Islamic places of worship typically avoid iconography, the Virgin Mary is revered in theological Islamic text; some Muslim students expressed that religious symbols could be acceptable as long as they weren’t within their line of sight while praying.

Among the design decisions that came out of these discussions was the creation of a shrine that would be placed outside of the prayer room; it would contain objects and texts — including the Quran and the Bible – that students could bring into the prayer room as needed and then return to the shrine afterwards. Another was the design of the prayer rug itself. Its multi-directional figures point to Mecca and East Jerusalem and its main motif is a large central circle that allows for many forms of assembly (linear, circular, sitting and squatting). “It appears as an abstract, colourful composition on the ground,” says Jamaleddine. “Each part of it, in a way, makes sense for one group and not the other. It’s a collapse of all those sacred orientations.”

The centre’s users collectively decided that everyone would remove their shoes before entering the room, for both religious and sanitary purposes. In addition to the prayer hall, the architects created an ADA-compliant ablution room, where the ritual washing of feet is made accessible for those in wheelchairs.

When it came to the halal and kosher kitchen, the existence of two big kosher kitchens both on and off campus took some of the pressure off the design team. But the architects still faced logistical questions with their “reduced” version tucked snugly into a narrow space; most important was how to both share and separate the cabinetry for the proper preparation and storing of dairy and meat. For religious occasions, the cupboards can be enclosed; they are sectioned off with birch plywood doors perforated in a pattern that evokes the lunar calendar, the phases of the moon adding a dash of pattern and permeability to the kitchen. The countertops, in blue resin, create a playful contrast.

“We designed separate storage cabinets for utensils and pots, too: for the Muslim community, the Jewish community, vegetarian students, and one for other individuals with allergies,” Jamaleddine explains.

To gather for festive meals, the students can assemble the tablescape that was custom created for them by L.E.FT, which also devised its manual of 20 variations. “The table design had to do with the idea of what is religious and what is secular, what is religious cooking versus cooking every day. And the final composition tried to respond to all those needs,” says Jamaleddine. Made up of geometric modules that can be moved around the centre as needed, the furniture system boasts many uses, among them communal kitchen prep, solo homework and special setups for events. It also epitomizes the project’s central idea of sharing and adaptability.

In fact, the centre as a whole is continuously evolving. For instance, the firm is also developing a display panel for an operational calendar to help students share the prayer room most effectively and in accordance with regular religious and spiritual occasions. “There’s this flux, or kind of dynamic condition, that we’re always attuned to,” says Jamaleddine. 

Just outside the centre, the firm designed a labyrinth that is both symbolically and materially linked to the building and to the rest of the campus. It’s made of construction scraps — brick, stone, slate, granite — from different Vassar projects. Collected in a depot nicknamed The Boneyard, this cache was carefully catalogued by L.E.FT, which then shaped it into a central landscape feature for everyone to enjoy. It’s beautiful, each individual piece laid in harmony with the whole, a tapestry made richer by its diversity. 

The Centre for Religious and Spiritual Life at Vassar College is sensitive in so many ways. First and foremost, it is authentic to the student groups that use it; then it’s considerate of its site and history; finally, it is respectful of the environment.