Free Preview: Is John Pawson really a minimalist?

I know John Pawson. I've interviewed him, launched exhibitions with him. I've even convinced him to let me sell his photography. So sitting down for another interview wasn't all that easy because I wanted to reveal the side of him that I know. His softer, funny side and his love for the creative collaborative process. But John is a pro, always composed and unwavering. He's a giant in the design world and he knows exactly what he's doing.

What struck me during our conversation at his country house with his wonderful wife, Catherine, is that John might not actually be a minimalist. Bear with me. Minimalism as an artistic movement is all about simplicity, stripping away excess and focusing on essential elements. John's work embodies this with the monochrome tones and the absence of art on his walls. Yet in his house, every corner, detail, stone, and thread demands attention. It's a maximalist's dream in terms of engagement, though without the clutter.

Maybe I don't fully grasp minimalism, but I left that interview thinking John's work deserves a whole new term. He challenges our relationship with material possessions and aesthetic beauty, embodying minimalist goals while creating spaces that captivate the mind. John isn't just a minimalist or he shouldn't be put into a box like that. He's something more. He makes us see more by showing less. And maybe that is the whole point of minimalism, but this interview was mind-opening, mind-bending.

The Reluctant Interviewee

"How many times do you think you've been interviewed?" I ask.

"Oh, no idea. Not many," John replies, seemingly unaware of his own stature in the design world.

When I tell him it must be thousands, he seems genuinely surprised. "Never, never even thought about it. To be honest. No."

I wonder if he enjoys being interviewed. His response is characteristically thoughtful: "Well, the thing is that architects usually aren't very articulate, so it's a bit..." He trails off, before adding with a hint of humor that architects might be more forthcoming "after a few martinis."

The Architect's Persona

There's something fascinating about how John views the architectural profession. He describes the common perception that architects are supposed to be "scary" with a knowing smile. "I think they probably work on that. I mean, it's a way of getting what they want, I suppose."

But he's also quick to distinguish his approach from the cutthroat competition that can characterize the field. "It's not getting a client at any cost, I think. I mean, I think there's enough there to, you don't have to do someone else in. You have to be slightly wary because a lot of architects are very competitive."

The Accidental Success

One of the most refreshing aspects of John's career is how organic his rise to prominence has been. When I mention his talent for self-promotion without seeming self-promoting, he's characteristically humble.

"Well, I've been very lucky that it's just happened. I mean, it's not. I've never gone out there and people have seen what I've done for myself and asked if I'd do it for them and they just gradually grew like that, very morphed into what it is. I mean, there was never a plan. So it's always been, you know, following the river."

When I ask if there was a moment when he realized he could truly be an architect, his answer is surprisingly candid: "To be honest, I've never felt like that."

The Collaborative Spirit

Despite his status, John is quick to emphasize the collaborative nature of his work. "I always felt I could do it, but of course, I mean, the whole thing about architecture, of course, is not, I mean, obviously it's not just me. I mean, it's that, you know, for most of my working life I've had a team of 25 architects, and all incredibly talented and driven, and it's just keeping them together really."

This humility extends to his process. "It's a slow process anyway, building and architecture. So there is time to review things, but of course, if you don't review it quick, and their ideas or the ideas that are already out there for the project, you're kind of slightly stuck with them."

The “Unqualified” Architect

In a revelation that might surprise many, John doesn't consider himself formally qualified as an architect. Yet he's confident in his abilities: "I think of myself as an architect personally, even though I'm not qualified because I do build stuff and build things and put things together. And of course, you know, with 40 or 50 years experience."

He's amused by the debates about his credentials: "To and fro-ing about what he must be, or his good-ass, or how ridiculous, why doesn't he get qualified? It's mildly amusing, but it's not big on the... People like a box. Yes. Yes, they do. Yes, it makes them uncomfortable if they can't."

Beyond the "King of Minimalism"

When I ask who he would be if he weren't "the king of minimalism," John laughs heartily. "That's a misnomer if ever I heard one. Yeah. Yeah, why the king part? I mean obviously it's contradictory to say king and minimal in the same words and minimalism is such an unspecified..."

He continues, "So I didn't get it to begin with but it is obviously circulated. 'Microscopic architect' would have been quite fun to keep that. That's a minimalist architect. It's better to be the same or as misleading."

When pressed on how he would describe his work, his answer is refreshingly direct: "Well, it's not minimal. I mean, of course, especially if you're English, you accept titles you're given. Because if you start arguing every time somebody says, 'Are you a minimal architect?' And you say, 'No, I'm not.' And then you finish five-minute talk and they say, 'Well, that's a minimal architect, isn't it?' So, you know, so I've learned..."

The Path Not Planned

John's path to architecture was anything but conventional. "When I was at school I mean actually I wanted to be an architect, and they said you can't be an architect because you don't do maths which of course is bollocks."

His journey took an unexpected detour: "So I thought, at age 24, I mean, I might as well have been 12. I was so childish. I thought, I mean, I'd lost my job anyway, and I was going to get married in December. And that fell through. So I thought, I'll just take off and go to the monastery, which I did."

This wasn't a desperate move, he insists. "No, no, I just had, you know, I, you know, forget all of that, which was, you know, my family business, and I'll go and become a Zen Buddhist monk forever. I mean, what I was thinking, I mean, I can't, anyway, I got there at Christmas, at Christmas there, and then by New Year I was in the monastery, and lasted a night. One whole night. One whole night."

After that brief monastic experiment, his career took several more turns: "And then I got a job teaching at university for three or four years and became a photographer in Japan with an agency. And then eventually, after a long, after 10 or 20 years, became an architect, or sorry, got to do architecture."

The Calvin Klein Moment

Many point to John's work on the Calvin Klein store as his breakthrough moment. When I ask if he agrees, his perspective balances insider confidence with outside perception: "Well, because you're on the inside either you, you know, you have this ridiculous self-confidence. But you think that you think you made it before Calvin Klein school, but obviously for public perception and on..."

The Calvin Klein project was undoubtedly significant, though: "Show him what could be done, and he built it. And then we didn't get a new house for 15 years. 15 years."

In the end, what makes John so fascinating isn't just his design philosophy or his distinguished portfolio. It's the contradictions: the unqualified architect who's mastered the craft, the accidental success who never planned his rise, the supposed minimalist whose spaces feel rich with detail and meaning.

Perhaps that's why conventional labels don't quite stick. John has spent his career creating spaces that challenge our perceptions and expectations. It seems only fitting that he himself defies easy categorization.

Listen to our full interview on Spotify and Apple Podcasts.