Design Considered #29 - John Pawson
An in-depth conversation with the London-based minimalist designer.
John Pawson welcomed me to his King’s Cross office in London a few weeks ago. I've been fortunate enough to interview him previously and have enjoyed his warmth and dry humour at dinners and events over the years. Still, when I emailed him at the beginning of the year, expressing my interest in chatting for this fledgling newsletter (alongside a few other industry luminaries I admire), I was pleasantly surprised that his reply landed first in my inbox. His door, it turned out, was open whenever our diaries could align.
After all, this is a busy man currently shaping hotels, galleries, and refined residences across multiple continents. Responsible for celebrated projects such as London's Design Museum, his minimalist approach has inspired zeitgeist-defining figures like Kanye West and Calvin Klein, for whom he designed a flagship store on Madison Avenue, a project that helped refresh how we look at experiential retail environments.
When asked about his formidable body of work and the creative world’s admiration, Pawson quickly noted he’s been too busy —in his quiet, below-ground studio—to consider external views too deeply. Yet he's no recluse. Pawson enjoys engaging with the next generation of architects drawn to his work and always relishes opportunities to connect socially.
Capturing John Pawson's wry wit and unassuming wisdom purely through words is challenging. Still, these excerpts from a free-flowing conversation about his life and work should inspire further exploration into his designs. Here, he discusses projects such as the monastery in Nový Dvůr, Czech Republic—a Cistercian abbey that uses stone, wood, and plaster to create serene spaces illuminated by natural light—and Home Farm, his thoughtfully renovated Cotswolds farmhouse, where muted materials like lime plaster, concrete, and elm combine seamlessly to accentuate shifting daylight. He also shares insights into his personal philosophy on minimalism and the influence of Japanese culture on his practice.
Design Considered - You’re designing projects all over the world, are some places easier than others to see the work realised exactly how you would like it to be?
John Pawson - In Korea, there's a level of quality, professionalism, and hard work; there's a general focus, similar to that in Japan. America is very difficult to build in, because they don't understand the tolerances. However, in Japan, they're almost too precise. Laying stone, they work to one or two millimetres - it almost looks too good.
DC - You were shaped early on in your career by spending time in Japan.
JP - That just followed 25 years in Yorkshire - you can't take the Halifax out of the lad. However, Japan is near the top of my list of places I’m sympathetic towards.
DC - It feels like Japan, as a place, should resonate with everyone, given the way people pay so much attention to detail and quality there. I don’t think it’s perfectionism, because they also appreciate imperfection.
JP - But only perfect imperfection.
DC - How much of that has rubbed off on you?
JP - I am comfortable in Japan. There's plenty which is not great. Stress levels. It's not a relaxed place. It's not casual.
DC - But are you relaxed and casual?
JP - Not about work. I like my work to be perfect. But if you were to ask me, ‘Would you rather have a perfect home or a relaxed partner?’ I'd go for the relaxed partner. I wouldn’t like to live with me. But whoever lives with me does have a perfect interior and perfect architecture; however, it may not be quite so relaxing.
DC - You're pretty close, right, with your place in the Cotswolds, to having the combination of both?
JP - Yes, when I started that project, I said to my wife Catherine, ‘one of us has to do this. We can't do it together. It's either me or you, and I think it should be me.’ It was tricky for Catherine because she's also a designer, so she has strong taste, but she's not a minimalist, if that's the right word.
DC - Is being a minimalist stressful?
JP - It's not stressful. One aspect of minimalism is the design, which is done for ourselves and our clients. The other aspect is living with minimalism, living this special existence, which also requires some effort, but it's worth it.
DC - Why?
JP - Just the enjoyment of the space and your freedom, and not having more than you need. Of course, it isn't entirely minimalist, and the irony is that achieving minimalism is very difficult. And these are expensive places that I design. So they're not minimal in terms of cost or quality of materials. Ultimately, having nothing would be the most minimalist way to live.
John Pawson designed the minimalist monastery at Nový Dvůr in the Czech Republic, home to a community of monks who live, work, and worship within its serene spaces.
DC - But I think even if your brand of minimalism is luxury, it’s still meaningful - these are good values you place into your designs.
JP - I think so. We receive these commissions for fairly sophisticated places, which often end up being expensive. However, the approach to dealing with them remains the same, whether it’s a big house or a small one - it’s about living in them simply. It's not a religious thing. If you're designing for monks, especially Cistercian Trappist monks, whom I have worked for, who typically have little beyond their watches, undergarments, and a few personal items, you're encouraging a meaningful yet simple way of living.
DC - I don't imagine what you designed for the monks in Novy Dvur, Czech Republic, is austere, though, or is it?
JP - I don't think so. Some people would call it austere, but the monks spend their whole lives in this place. They don't go outside the monastery grounds unless they're leaving the order for good. Therefore, what you do for them must be of a quality that enables them to live comfortably. So they get quite a bit of space—it’s quite a few square meters each—and it’s pretty durable, because, you know, there are 40 men, and there are no cleaners, so they do everything themselves. Laundry, washing up, cooking, everything.
DC - I'd love to hear what people can learn from that lived experience you were talking about. Minimalism is maybe the wrong word, but I don't know what the right word is - to me, your work is about stripping things back and making the best of what you have, whether that's material, space, or light.
JP - It's having everything you need, but not more than you need. I think it's just a considered thing. But as I said, it's not about being extreme—anything where you go overboard, too much or too little, becomes stressful in every way. Architecture serves the needs of human beings. So people need shelter. My design is for people who find pleasure in the exhilaration of the spaces and the calmness, and who feel good in them. I think it makes their lives better. And I think it makes it easier to deal with whatever things are in front of them, whether it's bringing up children, studying or working in a workshop.
DC - Do you feel like you've been able to teach people about better design through your work over the years?
JP - I’ve been working here with my head down in a basement in Kings Cross since 1997. I haven't had your viewpoint. I don't look at what other people are doing, because I'm getting on with this. However, recently I’ve had more time and become more aware, and then you suddenly see that numerous architectural practices are doing what I do. And many of them are doing more interesting, better, or more expansive work, which I'm slightly jealous of.
When I started, people thought I was mad. And, you know, as I’d spent four years in Japan, it meant people kept saying, ‘Oh, you were in Hong Kong, weren’t you?’. The only people who got what I was trying to do were my ex-wife Hester's parents, who were Dutch. They just had a visual literacy. They got it, and that was a huge relief for me because parents-in-law wouldn't usually be on your side, unless they really believed in you.
DC - How introverted are you, and how much does that apply to what you do? What have you learned from it?
JP - Gosh, what a question. To sell your idea, convey it to a client, or navigate the entire architecture process, requires a certain ability to effectively communicate the idea and persuade the client to take action. When I was younger, I had the amazing opportunity to have lunch at the New York Four Seasons with Philip Johnson at his table. I made a very big mistake. I was trying to explain the qualities of being a great architect, like Mies van der Rohe. I paraphrased something I read: ‘To be a great architect, you must have deep inner conviction, a modicum of ability and also a huge amount of charm.’ Johnson’s response was - ‘I don't know about charm… maybe Mies could have charm after 10 Martinis’. So that didn't go down very well. And that was the end of lunch.
DC - Is architecture still an ego-dominated field?
JP - I don't meet many architects. I meet young ones because they show an interest, and therefore, I show an interest in them. I used to meet big-name architects at The Groucho Club, and we would have great conversations. But then some clients would come into the club, potential clients, and the architects would just be gone. I thought it was really weird. I never leave a conversation just for a client. I never fall out with somebody because I want a client. But on the other hand, good clients don't grow on trees.
DC - A lot of clients surely see through ruthless behaviour, though?
JP - Well, I think they see it eventually, if they're smart enough. However, the architects have already secured the job, and the client is paying this person. You know, architects are capable of some pretty underhanded business practices. Someone once wrote to my client, Calvin Klein, and said, ‘I understand you've hired John Pawson, good luck. If it doesn’t work out, call me’, type thing. That’s hard, because you’re not exactly feeling 100% secure at the beginning of a job like that. Then some asshole...
DC - I don't think people can carry on like that forever...
JP - They can. But I don't think they need to. I recently had my 70th birthday party, and one of my sons said he was going to make a speech. And I was like, ‘Really?’ And I said, ‘How long is it?’ He said, ‘11 minutes’. I said, ‘Wow, 11 minutes!?’ I was like, ‘How about 30 seconds?’ However, he did it, and his key point in the speech was that we prioritised our children over work. It's like, would you like to be Palladio or have wonderful children?
John Pawson’s photographic sensibility is captured in his book Spectrum. His precise eye for subtle beauty, texture, and the play of light continues to captivate a loyal Instagram following.
DC - Finally, I don't know how many photos you've taken now—thousands, hundreds of thousands? I’d love to hear more.
JP - Hundreds of thousands... Photography dates back to my time in Japan in the 1970s, and you can imagine that it was a culture where people were obsessed with expensive cameras. You know, there were people with massive box cameras that they would take to temples or tourist sites. I had a small Japanese camera, and I started taking photographs while teaching at the university there. Photography made it easier to convey points to the students or entertain them a bit, showing them what I had seen.
When I got into this game, directly into architecture, my sketching was (and is) cartoony; it doesn’t convey what I want. I can write, but it takes too long. Therefore, showing people photographs is a way to describe an idea and also document a site. It’s not about copying some inspiration, like a stone pattern I’ve seen somewhere else, directly - it’s a suggestion. This might inspire ideas for what we could do on the site. I also enjoy photographing as a means of extensive documentation for design projects, capturing them in all weather conditions and seasons to showcase their details, architecture, and materials. I’ve never thought of myself as a photographer; it felt more like a way of relaxing, but now, after having books published and exhibitions of my work, I can say that I am a photographer.
DC - And you’re an Instagram star with half a million followers.
JP - Luckily, the office didn’t tell me to take it down, but they’ve also told me not to give up my day job for it.