circle conversations | john pawson
John Pawson CBE has spent over forty years creating rigorously simple architecture that speaks of the fundamentals while remaining modest in character. His body of work spans a broad range of scales and typologies, including private houses, sacred commissions, galleries, museums, hotels, ballet sets, yacht interiors, and a bridge across a lake.
As Alvar Aalto’s bronze door handle has been characterised as the ‘handshake of a building’, so too is a sense of engaging with the essence of a philosophy of space–through everything the eye sees or the hand touches–a defining aspect of Pawson’s work. His method is to approach buildings and design commissions in precisely the same manner, on the principle that ‘it’s all architecture’.
johnpawson.com | @johnpawson
In an increasingly cluttered world, do you think minimalism is a luxury or a conscious choice that one can achieve in any circumstance?
Minimalism offers a way to connect with the quiet essence of things, set apart from the clutter of the world and of one’s own mind. It is both a luxury and–certainly in my own daily life–a fundamental necessity. It makes sense to me; it is in my core. I have always been drawn to quiet spaces, where the eye is free to travel uninterrupted. I find profound comfort and pleasure in environments that focus on the light, the proportions, the surfaces and the atmosphere.
Some view minimalism as cold or sterile. How do you respond to critics who claim that minimalist architecture lacks warmth?
For me, the deepest and most sensuous experiences of ease and well-being come from simplicity and clarity. What could be warmer and more alive than an unadorned expanse of Douglas fir or limestone, animated by the play of light and shadow?
Do you think the trend toward sustainability compromises the purity of minimalist design, or do they naturally complement each other?
There is no subject more important in architecture than sustainability. I believe we are all becoming more mindful of the consequences–and thus the responsibilities–of the choices we make. There is value in the fact that authentic minimalism is about creating enduring physical environments that stand outside the ceaseless, trend-driven cycles of renovation and refurbishment.
What do you think is missing in contemporary architectural discourse today?
I might not be the best person to ask this sort of question. My focus is always so closely on the work at hand that what is happening outside the studio tends to pass me by.
With the growing focus on virtual spaces and digital architecture, do you think physical architecture is at risk of losing its relevance to a certain degree?
I can’t see how experiencing virtual environments through sight and intellect alone, however exhilarating it may be, could ever replace physical immersion in real architectural space. It is only through full sensory engagement that we can truly connect with a sense of place.
What is the biggest misconception people have about minimalism?
There is still a prevailing misconception that minimalism is a style rather than a philosophy of space– that it’s simply a matter of getting rid of furniture and painting the walls white.
What role does silence play in your creative process?
I create spaces where it is comfortable to be silent, but the places where I work are rarely noiseless– ours is an open-plan office, and at any given time there may be up to twenty people working at their desks, browsing the library and the sample room, talking on the telephone, and discussing projects with colleagues.
What inspires you in life?
I realise that I remain very much inspired by my parents–by memories of their values and strengths.
Is there a project that has had significant personal meaning to you?
You work on architectural projects for so long that they all come to have significant personal meaning. However, the homes I have created for my family have been particularly special to me. And, of course, the Cistercian Monastery of Nový Dvůr in the Czech Republic–which was, and still is, a quarter of a century later–the commission of a lifetime.
How do you define success in life?
For me, family is the definition of success–and happiness–in life.
What advice would you give to young architects who are just starting out?
I would pass on the best advice I received when I was starting out, which came from the Japanese architect and designer Shiro Kuramata. He emphasised the value of discipline and hard work, the importance of always finding the ‘sparks,’ and, more than anything, the need to just get on with it.
If you could design anything, without limitations, what would it be?
I used to have a wish list of unfamiliar project typologies I wanted to explore, but I find, increasingly, that real creative freedom comes from applying myself without limits or restraints to whatever is currently on my desk.
To finish off, I have a few simple questions. You can respond with a word or a couple of words…
Blue?
Atacama desert skies.
Strength?
My wife.
Softness?
Well worn textiles.
Beauty?
Familiar faces.