
Teo Yang
The past in the future
Words JAE KIM
Photography ALIXE LAY
JAE KIM: What’s your first memory of architecture? Was it a childhood aspiration?
DAVID KOHN: I did have an interest in being an architect from a relatively young age, influenced in part by my family. My grandmother was a potter, and my uncle was an interior designer. They both lived in South Africa, where I was born, though we immigrated to the UK when I was four. We returned to South Africa every year, often staying with my grandmother. I was captivated by her work; she had a kiln in her little cottage, and I found the process fascinating. We’d also visit my uncle, who had technical drawing boards that excited me. By the time I was a teenager, I was drawing frequently. My grandmother would send me books on calligraphy, and my uncle would send architecture magazines, which I spent hours copying. So yes, much of my inspiration came from my family.
JK: So, it was a natural progression.
DK: Yes, it was. My parents were very encouraging and took us on holidays to places with significant architecture. I particularly remember a trip to the Loire Valley to see the chateaux and other trips that became more architecturally ambitious as I got older.
JK: You collaborate with artists on many of your projects. I’d like to hear about the interaction when working with artists on architectural projects.
DK: When I was a student studying architecture, one of my tutors was Eric Parry, an architect based in London. He was very enthusiastic about architects taking an interest in visual arts. I was already engaged, but it became more common for me to attend exhibitions. In the summer of my second year, I attended a summer school at the Slade School of Art, which was a very inspiring experience. After university, many of my work opportunities involved gallery and exhibition design.
Soon after I started my own practice, I had the chance to collaborate with an artist, Fiona Banner. She had been invited to propose a sculpture for the Duveen Galleries at Tate Britain, one of the UK’s most important art commissions. She wanted someone to work with her on drawings for her installation, which involved inserting two fighter planes inside the gallery. I loved the experience and the way she talked about her work. It challenged many preconceptions about relating to an architectural context. I remember drawing sections through the galleries, which are neoclassical interiors, and inserting the profile of the fighter jet as Fiona required. It was amazing to see how the form of the plane and the gallery section seemed to echo each other. Fiona was interested in the relationship between institutions and empire, beauty and violence. The project wasn’t just about placing a jet in an unexpected environment; it was about the relationship between the forms of the jet and the gallery. This expanded my understanding of what an architectural project conceived by an artist could be. I later collaborated with Fiona on A Room for London, a competition we won. Since then, I’ve worked with many artists and have always found it to be challenging, rewarding, and mind-expanding.
JK: And how do these projects normally come about?
DK: There are many possibilities. Fiona initially asked me to work with her, and I later asked her to work with us. In other cases, like working with Simon Fujiwara at the invitation of Lydia Yee, curator of the Whitechapel Gallery, we were matchmade. We collaborated on an installation for the exhibition “Is This Tomorrow?” in 2019, which marked 50 years since the original “This Is Tomorrow” show that paired artists and architects. We visited Abu Dhabi and Dubai, including the Louvre Abu Dhabi, and created an installation about Leonardo’s painting Salvator Mundi, which was the most expensive painting ever sold at auction but had disappeared. We made a speculative museum dedicated to this painting.
We’ve also designed group exhibitions and worked with artists with different needs. For example, Rosalind Nashashibi, shortlisted for the Turner Prize, needed a cinema built within the Ferens Art Gallery in Hull. We helped her design a small building inside the museum to show her films. We’ve worked with other artists in that show on their installations as well.
Pablo Bronstein approached us to work on his selection for the National Trust, where we made a pavilion on the grounds of one of their buildings. Recently, for New College, we had the opportunity to invite artists to work with us. Eva Rothschild won a competitive process to design entrance gates for a building we designed. Last year we completed a new gallery for Stephen Friedman on Cork Street. Stephen suggested we collaborate with artist David Shrigley on a pavilion that now stands in a public garden behind the gallery.
JK: That’s really interesting. Your upcoming project for Jonathan Anderson in London recently gained planning permission. How do you approach collaborating with a client who is deeply entrenched in the world of fashion and art, and how do you ensure the architecture of his home reflects his artistic vision?
DK: We are working with Jonathan, who has a real passion for art and has amassed an impressive collection of both contemporary and historic artworks, including paintings, objects, and furniture. What’s fascinating about the project is Jonathan’s interest in siting particular works within his home. This in part organizes the building, almost like creating an exhibition to accompany daily life. While the intention is for works to rotate, there is an “opening show” which is informing the design of the house.
JK: Opening show?
DK: Yes, effectively. There’s a first hang, not a literal event, but a planned arrangement of art that the house is designed around. It’s also been interesting to see how Jonathan’s interest in art influences his practice as a designer. This collaboration extends his artistic vision into architecture, allowing us to learn from his approach and integrate it into our work.
<Read the full interview from Issue Eight>
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