Remembering Robert A.M. Stern at 86: Reflections on an Early Career and Lasting Legacy

Robert A.M. Stern, the Brooklyn-born architect who founded Robert A.M. Stern Architects (RAMSA), died on Thursday, November 27, at the age of 86. Over seven decades he built an influential body of work—from museums, schools, and libraries to distinguished residences—most famously 15 Central Park West, which married the limestone grandeur of New York’s prewar architecture with the refined lines of a modern high-rise.

Beyond his built work, Stern was a prolific author and a passionate educator. He taught at Columbia and Yale and served as dean of the Yale School of Architecture from 1998 to 2016. He wrote more than a dozen books, including a six-volume history of New York City, and consistently advocated for preservation and the civic role of good design.

Below are Stern’s own recollections of his early career, originally shared by him in 2014. They offer a candid view of the practical lessons that shaped his approach to architecture and teaching.

After studying architecture at Yale, and after designing one small house and spending a short time in Richard Meier’s office, I spent two and a half years at New York City’s Housing and Development Administration during Mayor John Lindsay’s tenure. I then opened my own practice and began teaching at Columbia University.

At that time much of the work available to young architects in Manhattan involved reconfiguring large apartments—three- and four-bedroom layouts—for young families who were choosing to remain in the city rather than move to the suburbs. To meet their needs, plans were opened up: staff rooms were combined into family rooms, and living and dining rooms were often merged. I now view some of those changes with mixed feelings; I took apart many beautifully planned earlier apartments, perhaps more than I should have. But in doing so I learned how those apartments were put together, which in turn taught me how to reassemble and reimagine them. The same lesson applied to houses: many early commissions were renovations of the shingled homes I love, and fixing them taught me how to design new versions.

As my commitment to teaching deepened, I had the great pleasure of working with bright, motivated students who were ready to move past the chaos of 1960s modernism—with its occasional disregard for form and style—and wanted to return to what I called real architecture. Many of those students came to work in my growing office. Some later launched their own practices—several earning recognition at the highest levels—while others remained, helping attract further talent. In particular, Roger Seifter and Randy Correll, who were my students at Columbia, and Grant Marani and Gary Brewer, who later joined the firm, became long-standing partners and the backbone of our practice. Together we continued to pursue residential architecture at the highest possible level.

It is unfortunate that the Fountainhead stereotype still prevails: the idea that one architect does everything, from making the coffee to designing the buildings to dealing with contractors, and then miraculously appears refreshed for evening social events. That is not how it happens. Anything I have accomplished is the result of many people’s work—former students and longtime collaborators committed to the practice of great residential architecture.

Stern’s recollections illustrate how practical experience, collaboration, and teaching informed a career that balanced tradition and modernity while shaping generations of architects.