circle conversations | maïa paulin

Maïa Paulin is one of the most influential figures in the development of French design. A mother, grandmother, and recipient of the Commander of the Légion d'Honneur medal, she was Pierre Paulin’s wife and business partner for over 40 years, around whom the Paulin, Paulin, Paulin family business revolves. Maïa is an avid traveller and tireless researcher who has always sought to showcase, preserve and promote Pierre Paulin’s work. In the 1990s, the couple sought to purchase a house in the Cévennes, where they envisaged a “site/oeuvre” nestled in the mountains. Their goal was to create a foundation for students and researchers, as well as an atypical space for experiments and exhibitions. Although this concept did not materialise during the designer’s lifetime, Maïa Paulin is now actively working on this generous, openhearted, and convivial project together with her family.

Oyuna sat down with Maïa in her unique home in Les Cévennes, to discuss beauty, inspiration and more.

@mietemmanuel | paulinpaulinpaulin.com

How would you define beauty?

It’s not something I can define. I’m not a philosopher or an intellectual; I’m just somebody who either feels something or doesn’t. It could be anything - a bird’s song, a flower, or anything that creates an impression of beauty and makes you happy. Seeing and noticing beauty can make you feel good and inspire you in life.

What inspires you in life?

People. I need to be around people with great ideas or those who want to prove something – provided they have the ability to back it up. What I really enjoy is helping bring those ideas to life, and I think that's really where my strength lies. I'm not creative in the way an artist is, but I believe I'm creative in knowing how to support someone with talent that I recognise and admire. I’m happiest when I can help make others aware of that talent.

That's what you did for your husband, Pierre Paulin, right?

I think I did, yes. But never forget that Pierre was already known and had a reputation before we met. What I did was help maintain awareness of his work, and perhaps that helped him become more patient with results.

Can you tell us how it all began?

Some people dream of what they want to achieve or know where they want to go. For me, everything was a surprise. Design came into my life unexpectedly; it was never part of a plan. When I opened my first design studio in 1967, it was the result of a job I completed in 1965 for an American company located on the Champs-Élysées in Paris. This company specialised in shipbuilding, aerospace, electronic components, and information technology. One of their technologies included a vertical take-off system for aeroplanes, which they tried to sell to Concorde at the time, but without success.

During my time as an assistant to one of their managers, the need for someone to organise their exhibitions arose, so I proposed myself for the position. I knew nothing about technology, but thankfully it was an American company, and despite not having a diploma or official credentials, they were receptive to my candidacy. Not only were they open to considering me, but they accepted my proposal on the condition that if I did a good job, I would stay on; if not, I would leave. And I did a good job. Unfortunately, the company wasn’t able to achieve the sales they envisioned and ultimately left France.

After their departure, I was left wondering what I would do for work. I stumbled across an ad in a magazine for an interior design office located at Place de la Madeleine in Paris, which was looking for an assistant. I applied, was hired, and began working there. It was a beautiful place, but after six months of observing how things operated, I discovered I had the same intuitive “knowing” that some people possess, and I decided to open my own studio. However, having the capacity to do something wasn’t enough. France was quite slow in recognising design as an industry, and what I really wanted was to connect design with industries where designers could create better products and sell them globally.

Which year are we talking about?

1967. France was behind in terms of design. England was ahead, and Germany was ahead. There were very few designers in France, and those who existed mostly worked in very specialised fields of industrial design. Designers were typically brought in after a product had already been conceived, with the task of simply making it look nice. But that’s not what I believed design should be, and it’s not what design truly is. Design needed to be integrated from the very beginning of the process.

That’s what I found really interesting. I had friends who were psychoanalysts, sociologists, and from various other fields. Of course, I didn’t earn much money, but it was exciting to be there at that time, trying to be one of the first in France to promote this new approach to design. And that’s how it all began.

You mentioned that you grew up with the piano because your mum prioritised culture over food and other necessities. Can you tell us about your upbringing, please?

I was born in France in 1942, and my parents arrived from Poland as refugees in 1938. My father died before I was even a year old, and my mother stayed in France. She was passionate about culture. Years later, she married my stepfather, who was the brother of the village teacher. He was a kind man who played the accordion and hand-made eyeglasses. As a child, I remember spending every Thursday - our day off from school - helping him in his workshop, assembling frames. I loved it, especially the organisation and the process behind the design.

My mother had a saying: “If you have nothing to say, don’t speak.” She also believed, “Don’t look back; there’s nothing there. Look forward and build.” I was raised with that mindset and took it for granted. I never made long-term plans unless they were for specific projects. I never told myself, “One day, I’ll be a designer,” or “I’ll have my own office.” Every day was a surprise, and I enjoyed that spontaneity.

My mother wanted me to become a real French person. She never spoke about Poland, nor did she speak Polish to me. I grew up as a French girl. I wasn’t the best in school, but I wasn’t bad either - usually around third place, which I didn’t like. But I danced. I studied classical dance and piano. My parents were quite poor, but they bought me a piano and paid for lessons. I even started playing piano again during COVID because I wanted to challenge myself mentally. I thoroughly enjoyed it, but when my son and his children came to live with me for six months, I stopped playing.

I was raised with the belief that culture could save the world. Today, my perspective is different. You can be cultured and still do terrible things.

If I could do something different, I would have liked to work in geopolitics. I’m deeply interested in world events and how actions in one region can have ripple effects elsewhere. Despite everything, I believe humanity has the potential to do better. I trust in humanity.

Maïa, you're now 82, but you look incredibly young. You have such clarity of mind and so much energy. Can you share some tips with us?

I believe in people. I love meeting new people and learning from them—people from all walks of life. Meeting others opens doors, windows, and more. I’m still curious, and I think curiosity is incredibly important. But not the kind of curiosity that keeps you glued to the internet, where it's easy to get lost and distracted. That kind of curiosity can prevent you from truly thinking. I know people who do just that, and some even write about it.

I’m happy just to be. I hope to see my granddaughters grow up.

Love that. Age is just a number.

Yep. 82? Okay. So what?

How would you define design?

Well, today, I'm not sure because everything has changed since the seventies and eighties. For example, in the eighties, design often meant that the client would pay more for the packaging than for the product itself. Packaging was more important than what was inside. In the seventies, though, it was about real design. Designers were integrated into the company, working together with a true understanding. I think the seventies were the best years.

Then communication and PR grew so big that companies started 'buying' designers, and design shifted into something different - it became more about style. We pretended to reflect on whether the products we were designing were useful, necessary, or or added something meaningful, but we weren’t thinking about ecology at the time. Now, of course, that’s essential, and it presents a great opportunity because it makes you approach design in a new way.

So, designers were not paid well?

Yes, and that’s why it’s so important that Pierre’s legacy continues through our son Benjamin, who is truly safeguarding Pierre’s design intent. For example, we had a client who wanted to manufacture one of Pierre’s lamps using a new technique with a special kind of bulb. They asked us to modify the dimensions of Pierre’s original design to accommodate this. But if Pierre had known about this new technique, he would have designed the lamp differently from the start. So, we insisted on keeping the lamp exactly as he designed it.

Some things, like foam, have improved since Pierre’s time. You can change the foam without altering the essence of the design. But if you add three or four centimetres to a piece, it changes everything. We had a disagreement with the manufacturer over this - they didn’t understand our position, so we decided not to proceed with the contract.

It's great that both you, Benjamin, and Alice stayed true to the original intent and spirit of Pierre’s work, even saying no to certain things that might seem very appealing and lucrative.

We are fortunate. We're not driven by money; we live contentedly with what we have. What we do brings us pleasure - it’s not just a job. What Benjamin and Alice are doing is truly unique. It’s something that didn’t exist before - taking pure design and materialising it without compromise. No one else would take Pierre’s drawings and bring them to life in this way. They are safeguarding his designs and bringing to life some pieces that have never been seen before.

What advice would you give young designers today?

Well, it depends on what they want to do and where they want to go. Do they want to be a designer creating unique pieces, or work in the industry? Do they want to focus on one material, one technique, or be employed by a company? Either way, it’s work, work, and work again. It’s hard, but it’s not a problem if it’s work that brings you pleasure.

You live in this beautiful area of the south of France, Les Cévennes. How did you come to live here?

Pierre couldn’t imagine living in a city all his life without trees around; he loved being in nature. I, on the other hand, was raised in the countryside but spent most of my life in Paris, where I found happiness in the city.

We chose five regions in France that we liked, one of which was the Cévennes. When I was expecting Benjamin, we decided to take a walk there, spending two nights under the stars, and we loved it. That was a wonderful memory.

At the time, we had a place we had bought with a few friends long ago, situated between Digne and Grasse, on the other side of the Rhône River. We noticed that in winter the sun rose at 10 a.m. and set at 3 p.m., which didn’t suit us. So, we decided to search for a place that would help us see the worst conditions - ideally at a higher elevation and away from neighbours - which we found in this region.

While I was working in Paris, Pierre searched on his own. One day, he called to say he had found the place. There was no road, no electricity, and no water, but he insisted, “This is it.” I was a bit surprised, but I’ve always trusted Pierre’s intuition. Like Benjamin, they both go straight to the truth, while I tend to be more open and accommodating. I deeply believe in their perspectives and opinions.

This is where it all started, 30 years ago. Every morning when I wake up, I think, “Wow, I’m so happy to be here.”

What is the best thing about the Cévenne?

Authenticity. People here aren’t influenced by social expectations. You meet individuals who have had fascinating lives, but they’re not focused on who they were - they’re focused on who they are now. That makes a big difference, and it’s incredibly important.

What is one thing the Cévennes could improve as a region or community?

To preserve its spirit without making changes, because it doesn’t need improvement. You shouldn’t come in as an outsider thinking you need to bring change. No. Instead, try to help, understand what’s already being done, and make it thrive.

What's your signature dish?

Seafood, mainly. I like raw scallops. It’s funny you're asking that because Benjamin and Alice are working on an exhibition in Paris about all the tables Pierre designed, and they asked me for all the recipes we made for all the dinners that we had. So, a photographer came and I had to cook. In total, I will prepare eight different dishes over eight days, each with a different chef, to create experiences as eclectic as the tables Pierre designed.

You have so many pencils in your studio that you use for writing. Would you share with us what you write and what writing means to you?

Simply because I love it.

What is the secret to happiness in life, if there is one?

To be happy is to get up every morning expecting an even better day ahead than the last. Optimism.

You're such an optimistic person.

I think so, and I love kids. I love them because they bring so much life and energy. Their incredible capacity for creativity is truly inspiring.

You have many pieces from our collections. What attracted you to our brand?

You. Both of you. When we met you at that exhibition in New York, your collection was the only thing Pierre and I liked.

If I say the word “sustainability”, which a lot of people use nowadays, what does it mean to you?

It’s about finding a balance between something that should have always existed and something we didn’t realise we needed to protect. Some say nuclear energy is terrible, while others argue it’s beneficial. Personally, I feel confident in humanity and scientists’ ability to find a viable energy solution that doesn’t produce pollution. I’m sceptical about electric cars, as they require many components that are harmful to the environment. Ultimately, I think the core issue is consumerism - humanity needs to change its attitude toward consumption.

To finish off, I have a few simple questions. You can respond with a word or a couple of words…

Blue?

Sky.

Strength?

La vie.

Softness?

Cashmere.

Beauty?

The laugh of a child.