Pierre Yovanovitch's Building Blocks
Combining fashion, the arts, and an infallible intuition, interior designer Pierre Yovanovitch’s latest mission is a furniture line of his own.
Nearly 50 young designers and architects work for Pierre Yovanovitch in his Parisian agency, located in an 18th-century building next to the Grands Boulevards. The headquarters of a global operation, the interior designer’s office is a beehive of creativity; a factory of desire. It is here that ideas take shape for projects that will ultimately live far from their place of origin: Andermatt, Switzerland; London’s Mayfair; or New York, where he just opened another studio. In the 20 years of Yovanovitch’s agency, “collectible design” has enshrined his elegant and cultivated style in an approach that values both craftsmanship and contemporary art, and soon the prominent interior designer will launch his debut line of furniture. Beyond Château de Fabrègues, the French castle in Provence where he experiments with shapes and functions, yes, furniture is indeed Yovanovitch’s next new provocation.
L’OFFICIEL: You started your career designing men’s fashion for the late Pierre Cardin. What does his memory mean to you?
Pierre Yovanovitch: Imagine what it was like for a young man to work for a sacred giant of a man. He had a form of genius. His extraordinary personality made him endearing. I often referred to him as an “architect of clothing” because of his geometry, mastery of colors, and sense of detail. He had fun doing what he wanted during an exceptional and long career, and, of course, I had a lot of fun with him, too. His passing marks the end of a world. He was one of the great visionaries of his time, undoubtedly one of the last.
L’O: Why did you branch out into interior design, which you have now practiced for 20 years?
PY: I felt that it was too late to be free in the world of fashion, but that I still had time in that of interior design. It started as a game after I bought, spruced up, and sold my first studio, then a second, slightly larger one. Some friends gave me their apartment to design, then the first real client arrived. It’s probably a natural inclination that I’ve had since childhood.
L’O: What were the influences that guided your first projects?
PY: Knowledge of the decorative arts is often acquired through time. I am self-taught. I started by taking an interest in classic interiors anchored in the French or Italian tradition of the 17th and 18th centuries while retaining the most refined forms. Gradually I looked for more original, stronger influences, such as Swedish Grace or Vienna Secession. In 2006, the gallery owner Eric Philippe and I exhibited 10 beautiful pieces from Swedish Grace at the Biennale des Antiquaires. The success was immediate. The discovery of this neoclassical movement and the work of Gunnar Asplund, one of its leaders, inspired me. The postmodernist view of a Louis Khan or a Philip Johnson was also important. And then, I had the great chance to cross paths with extraordinary artists like Jessye Norman, Georg Baselitz, Daniel Buren, and Tadashi Kawamata, the latter two being leading artists represented by Kamel Mennour, a gallery for which I have just designed the architecture of its new space on Rue du Pont-de-Lodi.
L’O: You chaired Hyères’ Design Parade design jury in 2018. How do you see today’s young creators?
PY: Unlike my generation, young people today have access to such a large quantity of information via social networks, Pinterest, or Instagram, that some end up sometimes locking themselves in “moods,” or an illusion of innovation. However, the positive point of this plethora of access is that it allows certain characters to emerge, to show something unique, an identity of their own. It is the most assertive characters, those who go to the end of their sincere philosophy, who will succeed.
L’O: What are the skills that speak to you the most?
PY: Those who work first with the material before the form: the cabinetmaker, the ceramicist, the glassmaker. I love going to the workshop because there is this essential dialogue with the craftsman in each object I draw. The constraints often intervene during the realization of the prototype. The imperative of comfort on a seat will change the shape itself. For the American market, for example, where the interiors are larger and the sizes different, it’s necessary to review the structure of an armchair even before converting it into an XXL sofa. In short, the designer works on form, and the craftsman works on function.
I'm interested in creating a real identity, like a fashion brand, with collections and movement.
L’O: Why did you decide to start making your own furniture?
PY: First, to free myself from the emotional commitment imposed by interior design commissions. Secondly, it often takes a long time to complete projects, especially when it evolves into an entire house. It’s exciting but exhausting and most of the time confidential—the work cannot be shown. Designing furniture allows us to reach a wider audience; to open up to Asia, the United States—where we have an office—and the rest of the world. I’m interested in creating a real identity, like a fashion brand, with collections and movement. My team has counted some 800 pieces of furniture designed since the agency’s beginnings–that’s huge. But first we are going to release 75 new pieces: from the fireplace mantel to the wall lamp, each object will be in a limited edition.
L’O: At your private residence in Provence, Château de Fabrègues, nature, contemporary art, and the decorative arts are in harmony. Is it a showcase of know-how or something in perpetual motion?
PY: For me, Fabrègues must be a synthesis, an art of living and, in this sense, will always be an evolving place, like my work elsewhere. I like the somewhat austere domain of being isolated in the middle of 865 acres because it allows me to experiment in complementary fields: architecture, colors, landscape, and agriculture. To talk about influences again, I have a special thought for Claire Tabouret, who created a fresco in the chapel of Fabrègues in 2017. Meeting an artist—whether it is an established figure or a name in the making—often makes me evolve deeply.
L’O: What from your travels has struck you the most?
PY: Very recently, Brazil and Benin. I have a soft spot for Brasilia, Le Havre, and Ljubljana, which are all three cities marked by an architect. But if there is one place that struck me in its consistency, it is the Notre-Dame-du-Haut chapel in Ronchamp, France. Ten years after Le Corbusier, who has since died, Jean Prouvé added a campanile, and in 2011, Renzo Piano rebuilt the gatehouse and the monastery. But both have respected the work without ever consuming it.
L’O: How do you work in this infinitely complicated time?
PY: As naturally as possible. That is—by maintaining direct contact, being careful, and not isolating myself in my home.
