In the centre of the building, a ceremonial room is a calming space that invites community meetings and healing.   TEXT Elsa Lam PHOTOS doublespace photography Fifty years ago, four grandmothers founded the organization Anduhyaun—Ojibwe for “Our Home”—to respond to the needs of the city’s Indigenous women. The organization used a city-owned heritage house in the Annex to offer shelter to women and children suffering from the traumas of violence and homelessness. Last year, they moved to a building designed by LGA Architectural Partners.  The architects took the organization’s name to heart, aiming to provide not just basic shelter, but a place of nurture and grounding. The organization’s long-time executive director, Blanche Meawassige, told the designers that the building needed to feel like it was alive. “From Blanche, we understood that a shelter is a place where rehabilitation—growth and healing—begins,” says architect Brock James, partner at LGA. “Yes, it’s a roof over your head and safety, but it’s also where that spiritual part starts; it has to be about growth and life.” A curved ceiling-to-wall transition brings a unique quality to the bedrooms This thinking shows in the bedrooms, 16 of which are compact, single-occupancy rooms and two of which are designed for families with up to three kids. (Some rooms can also be interconnected, to accommodate larger families or to provide a physical link between friends.) Each room has its own bathroom, a wooden desk, adjustable lighting, and a curved ceiling-to-wall transition that reflects daylight through the space. The curve, says James, “makes the room very ‘here’. It’s only here. It’s not generic.” Curved, tiled walls define the circulation areas on the ground floor Curves recur on the main floor, where seafoam-coloured tiles sweep along flowing walls, adding to the building’s sense of aliveness and alluding to Indigenous teachings about water. The curves lead to a large communal kitchen and a central ceremonial space, currently known as Nookomis, or “grandmother.” The interior of Nookomis, the building’s main ceremonial space Many details illustrate LGA’s commitment to creating specialness with economical means. Nookomis, for instance, is clad with cedar shingles that came in pre-cut profiles. (“It’s just a matter of coming up with a pattern, which I did in my living room during the pandemic,” says James.) The burgundy walls of Nookomis’s interior are made, in part, with a simple foam in a custom colour. (“It’s a straightforward product that’s not good if you were touching it—but up high, controlling the sound, it works.”) A skylight caps the space, like a full moon casting a soft glow from above. Meawassige originally asked for the outside of the building to be anonymous, but later decided that the Indigeneity of the interior should be expressed outside, too. The architects created a design with a similarly elevated attention to detail. They achieved a high level of airtightness in the envelope, and composed a façade made out of standard Vicwest metal, applied in a pattern that ensures that the 300-mm width of the panels would stay intact, with no cuts.   “Good design, an elevated section, beautiful tiles: it’s things like that that makes it feel like somebody cares,” says James. “When I think about aesthetics, we can have lots of stories about them, but I know that it’s communicating that Anduhyaun cares. This is their building, and it’s emoting that they care.”  As appeared in the June 2025 issue of Canadian Architect magazine  The post Our Home, Toronto, Ontario appeared first on Canadian Architect.