Noted architect Eric Cobb is collaborating on a second-home project near The Gorge Amphitheatre with a former junior high school soccer teammate, embodying a classic Seattle story of connection.

The new Cliffe Pointe at the Gorge project located within the Cave B Estate grounds features 60 second homes surrounded by vineyards, natural sage, and rolling hills. Groundbreaking is expected in the third quarter, with the first 10 homes completed sometime next year.

To say that Cobb — an architect known for his inventive use of space and light — is excited at the prospect of such an open environment would be an understatement.

“If you start to whittle back on light and space, you’re left with something that doesn’t really make a statement. It doesn’t have a commitment. You’re cutting out its soul. ”

“Typically, when we do residential work, there are relationships around it. Here, we have the space to work with the landscape around it, as opposed to just front and back,” says Cobb, who founded his eponymous architecture firm 31 years ago after returning to Seattle from New York to work on a project for his parents. “It’s a fantastic opportunity to create space between these structures, and who would benefit from it. It’s one of these landscape moments of being respectful of the environment.”

Architect Eric Cobb’s creative use of space and light can be seen in this South Whidbey residence.

Photo courtesy of E. Cobb Architects

Cobb’s firm has done hundreds of residential and commercial projects. One he’s most proud of is a project for boutique shop Flora and Henri. He is known for his creativity with budgets, and his sophisticated use of space and light to create memorable structures.

Cobb had planned on staying in New York, where he earned a Master of Architecture from Columbia University Graduate School of Architecture, Planning & Preservation before working at a prominent New York City architecture firm. Then his parents called. They wanted to downsize, so Cobb and his fiancée (now wife) Kirsten Mercer-Cobb moved to Seattle and launched their own firm.

Cozy comfort.

Photo courtesy of E. Cobb Architects

Cobb, who later designed his own home in Madrona, admits that the project helped form his architectural instincts, especially as they relate to small and mid- size projects.

“There is a timelessness that really defines the mission of light and space that is not defined by a fleeting style,” Cobb says. “It’s abstract, with a clear priority of what’s important. You can read that throughout all of our work.”

Cobb’s business partners are his wife; Josh Johns; Jacek Mrugala; Brian Malady; and Jennifer Taylor.

South Whidbey residence

Photo courtesy of E. Cobb Architects

What did working on your parents’ house so early in your career teach you?

It was an incredible learning experience. They’re frugal. It was a really interesting experiment in how custom design in architecture can work with very modest cost expectations. You just get rid of what’s nice, but not essential. And you’re left with light, space and structure.

So, this informed your approach to architecture?

Totally. Light and space. In Seattle, you celebrate the sun. It’s gray and dark in those really brutal January and February months. And the sun comes out and it comes ripping into your living room. The sunlight comes through trees into your space.

Architect Eric Cobb

Photo by John Vicory

There are those words again, light and space.

If you start to whittle back on light and space, you’re left with something that doesn’t really make a statement. It doesn’t have a commitment. You’re cutting out its soul.

How would you describe your particular style?

We try not to use the term “style,” but there is an approach and a method in our work that has been quite consistent. We have this wave of projects now to revisit houses we’ve done from 25 years ago. Sure, there are things that we do a little differently now but the bones, the light, the space, and impulses absolutely are the same. It’s the principles I described doing my parents’ house. It’s about establishing priority and sticking to the things that are most important. They’re non-negotiable.

How do you decide what’s important on a job?

It’s simple. You have to have a couple bathrooms, but you don’t need half bathrooms. Do you need five operable windows, or are you OK with two? When you really strip it down to what the cost is, you can set up a conventional, inexpensive structure and follow the best possible economy. But is that going to necessarily result in fantastic light and space? Probably not. You’re probably going to have to do a few things.

Flora and Henri

Photo courtesy of E. Cobb Architects

What unique features does your home in Madrona have?

Instead of a big custom door on one of my sons’ bedrooms, it just swings. You just push on it, and it rotates and pivots. We learned a little bit later that when he would go over to his friend’s house he would go to the doors and just push on them. That was his understanding of how you move through architecture. It doesn’t have to be formulaic. You can have surprises, you can have unique conditions, and they don’t necessarily need to be extraordinarily expensive. There are plenty of examples of that.

Is it a different mindset when you design your own house?

Interesting question. It’s easier if it’s your own project and you know exactly what your priorities are. You can freewheel a little more. You end up winning some and losing some, and that’s OK. It’s a looser approach. It’s not about embracing sloppiness, but embracing change and opportunity.

Is there a common thread that runs through all the work you’ve done?

It involves structural expression, and a clear commitment and priority to light. How are you doing the glass? Where are you opening to? It’s not about the glass. It’s what the glass is doing. It’s not just what we build. It’s what we don’t build.

Can you give an example where that came into play?

A job we did in Mercer Island. You can make all kinds of glass and have a beautiful water view, no problem. But what happens when you turn around and look in the other direction? It’s a technique that we’ve been enamored with for two decades. You create an outdoor space on the opposite side of your big water view. First of all, it gets light into your main spaces from the opposite side of your primary view, which is great. You have all this water and it’s fantastic. And then you have this outdoor courtyard space behind you. It’s this outdoor presence that you’re creating on the opposite side of your project.

“The Chapel of St. Ignatius (Seattle University’s main chapel, designed by architect Steven Holl) is an amazing building. There’s an otherworldliness that is challenging, edgy, and amazing to experience. Embracing things like that is something the city could do more of.”

What percentage of your jobs are residential versus commercial?

It varies with the economy. We’ve been as high as 90% residential and as high as probably 70% commercial. The approach is definitely the same. The program is different because our client wants to do different things. In commercial work, there tends to be more focus on schedule and cost. If you’re doing a restaurant, for example, and it needs to open by spring, you have to deliver.

Small but mighty

Photo courtesy of E. Cobb Architects

You once did a project for Pioneer Human Services for former inmates transitioning back to the community.

I love that project. The budget was so tight. We had to fight for windows. But we did it. We brought light to the inmates, to people who had not had it. It was rewarding and very unique. We haven’t done anything else in that area. But that’s the kind of thing we do for all clients: space and light.

How has Seattle’s approach to architecture evolved over the years?

When I first started my practice here the influx of people from all over the world really hadn’t happened. There was a lot of resistance. With the mountains, the water, the landscape and trees, a statement about architecture was interpreted as a threat to the environment. Seattle in general preferred a kind of lower profile, understated built language. There were towers, but they weren’t making a statement. They weren’t inspirational. At the time, dwellings all over the city had big roof overhangs to keep the rain out. They were pretty dark spaces. When we did our first houses, some people were very upset about our work.

The firm is increasingly called upon to design accessory dwelling units.

Photo courtesy of E. Cobb Architects

Does Seattle architecture today have a particular style?

There’s much more of an understanding of architectural languages you might see in other cosmopolitan cities. There’s more of an acceptance of difference. (But) Seattle can do more about getting a little bit of tension by allowing certain critical aspects of projects to be pronounced, with more vigor, and not try to make everybody happy all the time. A lot of buildings are uninspired. But there’s progress.

Do you have a favorite Seattle building?

The Chapel of St. Ignatius (Seattle University’s main chapel, designed by architect Steven Holl) is an amazing building. There’s an otherworldliness that is challenging, edgy, and amazing to experience. Embracing things like that is something the city could do more of.

What does Seattle do well?

The design review process gets some credit for this: There’s been a ton of focus on the relationship between the public street and the private use and negotiation of the hardscape, landscape and the entry between streets and structures, both residential and commercial. You see people embracing this in our neighborhoods so they’re not all “Leave it to Beaver” neighborhoods. Seattle is doing good things with this.

Gorge – aerial image

Photo courtesy of E. Cobb Architects

What’s going on with the new development in the Columbia Gorge?

It’s a second-home development near the Gorge Amphitheatre, 60 homes surrounded by vineyards. It’s an amazing, high-desert environment. Typically, when we do residential work, there are relationships around it. Here, we have the space to work with the landscape around it, as opposed to just front and back. It’s a fantastic opportunity to create space between these structures and who would benefit from them. It’s one of these landscape moments with the natural sage and rolling hills, and being respectful of that texture.

Gorge front view

Photo courtesy of E. Cobb Architects

What other exciting developments are you working on?

A kite surfer shack on private property. It’s a residential addition to someone’s house; a repeat client we’ve done several projects for. It’s this engagement with outdoor space at an extremely small scale. It’s storage and gear and all of that kind of stuff, but it’s also “what do you do when you come off the beach?” We also have a significant Pioneer Square office project that makes people want to come back to the office. It’s exciting to us because it’s about bringing people back and re-energizing the neighborhood. We’re also remodeling some new houses, and a lot of work retouching our previous projects.

Gorge – inside view

Photo courtesy of E. Cobb Architects