RIOS Creative Director Spotlight: Melanie Freeland

I was always fascinated by how spaces come together. Growing up in a big farmhouse in Missouri, I’d spend hours in the backyard making “leaf homes”, raking outlines for rooms and imagining how people might move through them. That early curiosity about spatial relationships never left me. 

At Kansas State University, I started in a multidisciplinary program studying landscape, architecture, and interiors. I loved the connection between design and living, but by my sophomore year, I knew architecture was the right fit for me. That integrated foundation—understanding how all the disciplines work together—still shapes how I approach residential design today. 

Working with artists like Sol LeWitt and James Turrell has been one of the great privileges of my career. It’s shown me how art can transform a space, sometimes subtly, sometimes profoundly, and how it invites people to see and feel differently. Every home has that same potential for immersion and reflection. Art allows for emotion, nuance, and surprise, and I carry that sensibility into residential design. A home should do more than function well—it should move you.

I’m most energized by the people I get to work with in our studios. We have an incredible range of creative minds—some who think tactically and materially, others who are conceptually driven. That diversity creates real energy. Ideas come from everywhere, and there’s such passion in the room. It’s what makes our work feel alive and ever-evolving. 

It’s about creating spaces that lift your spirit. When you come home at the end of the day, you should feel joy, whether through a light-filled room, a connection to nature, or an unexpected material choice. It might be a playful pattern in a bathroom or a soft texture on a sofa that makes you smile. Those moments of delight are what makes a home feel personal. Joy isn’t frivolous—it’s essential.

We’re reimagining a home originally designed by a revered Los Angeles architect. It’s not historic in the formal sense, but it carries a certain legacy. The challenge is honoring that foundation while bringing something new— respecting the architecture without being overly reverent. It’s been an incredible exercise in balance and sensitivity, and it’s encouraging us to think about what we preserve, what we transform, and how those decisions reflect both the home‘s past and the client’s future. 

I aim to make the process immersive and conversational. In early meetings, we explore materials, imagery, and 3D visualizations so clients can begin to feel their future home. I encourage them to share what inspires them — a piece of art, a place they’ve stayed, a landscape they love. Those personal cues help us understand not just their taste, but how they want to feel when they’re home. When we translate that emotional connection into architecture, the design becomes a true reflection of who they are.

Slot Canyon in Palm Springs is a great example. It’s a ground-up residence that feels as though it’s always belonged in the desert. The architecture, landscape, and interiors are so intertwined that it’s hard to tell where one discipline ends, and the other begins. The tonality, the light, and the materiality capture the essence of its environment. That kind of integration is what we’re always striving for.

Dream big, but also design for your future self. Think about how you want to live, grow, and feel in five or ten years. A home should evolve with you. It’s not just a shelter; it’s a tool for inspiration, rest, and connection. 

Also expect the ups and downs—it’s part of the fun! Every project comes with challenges, but your team is there to see it through with you. Construction can be unpredictable, but the collaboration and creativity along the way make the result all the more rewarding. The process is part of the story. 

We’re exploring how homes can be more responsive—to climate, to site, to the way people actually live. That means designing for adaptability from the start, thinking about how spaces can transform over decades rather than years. It also means deepening our commitment to craft and materiality, finding ways to make sustainable choices feel luxurious and site-specific rather than prescriptive. 

I’m especially excited about how we’re applying lessons from our cultural and hospitality work to residential projects. We understand how to create emotional resonance at scale, and we’re translating that into homes—designing spaces that surprise you, that create moments of wonder in everyday life. The future of RIOS residential is about homes that feel both timeless and unexpected, rooted in place but open to transformation. Architecture that honors where you’ve been and makes space for who you’re becoming.