By ARIEL KAMINER

NEW YORK - Was it the opportunity of an architect’s career- Or a triple-dare episode of a particularly torturous reality show- Assemble 2,900 pieces of wood and metal into a highly experimental house. On a small budget. Using untested suppliers. Under constant public scrutiny. Oh - and do it all in just a few weeks.
In June 2007, the New York architects Jeremy Edmiston and Douglas Gauthier were invited to build a full-scale house they had designed on a parking lot adjacent to the Museum of Modern Art for “Home Delivery: Fabricating the Modern Dwelling,” an exhibition about prefabricated housing. (The show opened on July 20 to generally enthusiastic reviews, and runs through October 20.)
Mr. Edmiston and Mr. Gauthier’s project, Burst* 008, is no ordinary building. It’s a complex plywood structure built on crisscrossing ribs that can fold into a stack or open like an accordion. The architects had built a version of Burst in Australia, but they had never tried anything under conditions like the ones they faced in Manhattan.
“You’re not even allowed to build a wood structure in New York City,” Mr. Edmiston said he learned at some point. “So what do you do about that? ”
The museum was there to help with things like permits and a crane, as well as $165,000 in start-up money. Beyond that the architects were basically on their own. As Mr. Gauthier recalled, “We kind of went into it knowing we were in trouble.”
Documenting everything on a blog at momahomedelivery.org, they worked out a precise strategy for the spring: four weeks of off-site preparation and then six weeks of construction on the museum’s parking lot.
Arranging all the parts into piles so they could just be snapped into place at MoMA turned into a logistical nightmare lasting weeks rather than days. The 15 or so architecture students on hand were trying to reassure the contractors about a model that looked as sturdy as a collapsible fan. The architects were scrambling to update the drawings and struggling to raise money.
When the thousands of construction pieces had finally been sorted and the team was near exhaustion, the cavalry showed up: MoMA’s riggers. Four forklift drivers positioned themselves on the four corners of the first pallet, then drove in formation to a tractor- trailer that pulled out of the warehouse with mere centimeters to spare. Then they did it again, and again .
But t he walls, which were being cut at a mill, were late. Very late.
“The museum started to freak out; they didn’t think it could be done on time,” Mr. Gauthier said. “At the same time we were asking them for more money. There was an incredible amount of anxiety at the site.”
Barry Bergdoll, the museum’s chief architecture and design curator, who points out that ambitious buildings are never easy to build, recalled, “We threatened that we would have to present the building as an unfinished work.” The architects finally gave up on the missing wall panels, redrew their designs and had them cut by a simpler process.
Mr. Bergdoll laid down the law: Stay out of the office and start overseeing the construction full time, every day. And then, Mr. Gauthier said, “the last few days turned everyone into true believers. It started to be celebratory.”
In the final week, donations like light bulbs and paint started pouring in. “I’m still in shock that we made the deadline,” Mr. Edmiston admitted.
For the two architects , the success is bittersweet. After nine years their partnership has ended. “This is our last project together,” Mr. Edmiston said. “That’s all I want to say about it.” He paused. “But it was fun.”