Care and Community: AAmp Studio's Anne-Marie Armstrong on Spatial Thresholds, Necessary Recalibration, and Mutual Support
Portrait by Meaghan Peckham Photography.
By Julia Gamolina
Anne-Marie Armstrong is an architect and educator. She is a Principal and co-founder of AAmp Studio, an architecture and design practice based in Toronto and Portland, Maine. AAmp’s portfolio spans hospitality projects—including hotels, bars, and restaurants—as well as single- and multi-family residential work. Through practice, teaching, and research, Anne-Marie is committed to expanding access and inclusion in the built environment, and within the profession. She is an Assistant Professor (Teaching Stream) at the University of Toronto’s John H. Daniels Faculty of Architecture, Landscape, and Design.
JG: 2025 so far has certainly been eventful. Between your practice and your teaching, what are you thinking most about as you look ahead to the remainder of the year? What would you recommend us and our readers to be paying attention to and thinking about most at this time?
AMA: Our practice works in both Canada and the U.S. — which has raised important questions around navigating a period when relations across borders are evolving rapidly. We have such strong and enduring ties across our countries and we’re hopeful that this will prevail.
As it happens, at the University of Toronto’s John H. Daniels School of Architecture Landscape & Design, I teach a seminar called Between the Lines: Borders, Territory & Space, which explores architecture’s relationship to borders and territory, at multiple scales from the global to the local. In this course, we examine not only the scale of the state and related border policies, but also our immediate urban context, in this case Toronto, where students investigate how spatial boundaries create inclusion and exclusion. We ask, how can designers engage with thresholds, margins, and edges to foster greater equity and belonging?
To your readers, and the design community more broadly, I’d encourage paying close attention to how the built environment is shaped by policy, and how our work as architects and designers profoundly impacts daily life. Who feels welcome in the spaces you design, and who might not? Design is not neutral — it carries weight, and with that comes responsibility.
Ell House, a lakeside residence in Prince Edward County, Ontario which takes cues from the vernacular architecture of this agricultural region. Photography by Maxime Brouillet. Project by RHA in collaboration with AAmp Studio.
A reading nook within Ell House’s primary suite, in Prince Edward County, Ontario. Views of Lake Ontario and the surrounding rural landscape are carefully framed throughout the residence. Photography by Maxime Brouillet. Project by RHA in collaboration with AAmp Studio.
Now let's go back a little bit — tell me about why you studied architecture, and how you chose where you studied architecture.
Growing up, I wasn’t really exposed to architects and didn’t initially consider architecture as a path. I came to it organically, through a love of drawing, photography, and solving puzzles. My dad — who was a mathematician and writer — and I would spend time working through logic games, riddles and playing chess. A love for iteration, strategic creative thinking and discovering elegant solutions is something I’ve carried into architecture.
For my undergrad degree, I studied at the University of Waterloo and was drawn to its co-op program and curriculum that balanced design, cultural history, and technology. After taking a year off post-degree, I applied to graduate schools across North America. I ultimately chose Yale for my Master of Architecture because of the diversity of its faculty and specifically the opportunity to study with Professor Dolores Hayden, whose work on gender and the built environment had been formative to my thinking. Her support of my Fulbright funded graduate research on U.S.-Canada borderland communities helped shape the direction of my work and interests.
“Design is not neutral — it carries weight, and with that comes responsibility.”
Tell me about your experiences working for various offices before starting your practice. What did you learn that you still apply today?
Two key lessons stuck with me. First, the importance of work-life balance. I worked at offices that expected very long hours and consistent weekend work as a sign of commitment. At AAmp, we’ve made a conscious effort to foster a culture that respects boundaries within the constraints of the projects we pursue and recognizes that our lives outside the studio are essential to positive design outcomes.
Second, client service. It certainly wasn’t something emphasized in school or even in the offices I worked with early on in my career, but it’s foundational to how AAmp practices now. Listening closely to our clients, and collaborators, and building trust-based relationships has become a core value of our work.
How did AAmp Studio come about? What are your priorities for it as we enter 2024?
Andrew Ashey, AAmp’s co-founder, and I met while studying at Yale School of Architecture and really enjoyed working together. We had fun, even during those long hours in the studio! After graduating, we pursued separate paths — I moved to LA to work for Frank Gehry, he to New York — but when we found ourselves in the same city again, we began collaborating informally in LA. We formally launched AAmp in 2018.
Looking ahead, our priority is to expand AAmp’s presence in the public realm through institutional and community-based projects. This kind of work can be hard to break into as a younger practice, especially without a legacy portfolio, so we’re bridging that gap through strategic collaborations and by pursuing projects that, while privately funded, embed public engagement into their core. For example, we’re soon announcing the opening of a 44-room hotel in Savannah, GA — called Municipal Grand, which has a strong focus on community connection and civic experience, through the adaptive re-use of a historic building in the historic core of Savannah.
Municipal Grand, a 44-room boutique hotel and adaptive re-use project in Savannah, GA. Visualization by Darc Studio
Inside Bessborough Residence, color and texture abound as do formal references to the original historic residence, such as arches, which frame the wet room of the primary bath leading to the vanity area and oak lined walk-in closet beyond. Photography by Doublespace Photography.
Looking back at it all, what have been the biggest challenges? How did you both manage through perceived disappointments or setbacks?
One of the biggest challenges was the impact of COVID-19. At the time, our work was heavily focused on hospitality — restaurants and bars — which came to a halt. It was destabilizing for us. But, it also prompted a necessary recalibration. During that slow period, we took the time to develop conceptual work in residential and mixed-use architecture that later led to new project types. Today, our portfolio is almost evenly split between residential and hospitality — a diversification that’s made our studio more resilient.
That moment also deepened our connection to the wider architecture community. For example, I became more active in efforts like BAIDA, Black Architects and Interior Designers Association, in Toronto, co-founding it with friends and peers.
What have you also learned in the last six months?
As our studio grows, we’re learning to navigate new responsibilities — HR, finance, marketing, and managing a larger team. We’ve come to appreciate the value of leaning on other consultants with expertise and learning from our peers.
We’ve been lucky to have a network of small practices across Canada and the U.S. who share knowledge generously. That mutual support has been critical. Success doesn’t come from going it alone, but from building community.
“Success doesn’t come from going it alone, but from building community.”
Who are you admiring now and why?
I have deep admiration for our team at AAmp. They bring talent, generosity, and a collaborative spirit to everything they do. Each person has their own perspective and goals, and I feel incredibly grateful that they’ve chosen to grow with us.
What is the impact you’d like to have on the world? What is your core mission? And, what does success in that look like to you?
I want to make architecture more accessible and meaningful to the communities it serves. At the Daniels Faculty, I developed a graduate seminar called In the Margins: Annotating the Everyday and Overlooked in our Built Environment, based on our studio’s internal journal, Annotated. It asks students to look closely at the spaces we often ignore — the in-between, the improvised, the informal — and to reflect on what these can teach us about care, identity, and lived experience.
My goal is to encourage young designers, as well as established ones, to listen more, observe more, and challenge top-down traditional approaches to practice. Architecture should not feel exclusive. If we can help shift the field toward more engaged and inclusive forms of design, that would feel like success to me.
AAmp’s team on site at their Jones Multi-Unit project in Toronto. Photography by Todd Temporale.
Finally, what advice do you have for those starting their career? Would your advice be any different for women?
Trust your instincts, stay curious, and build relationships that challenge and support you. Don’t be afraid to make your own path — there is no single route into practice, and often the most interesting work happens at the margins.
For women — and particularly for women of colour — I would say: your voice and perspective are needed. You may find yourself navigating spaces not built with you in mind. Seek out allies and mentors, but also advocate for yourself. Build community. And remember that care — for yourself, for others, for the places you work on — is not only valuable but vital.
This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.