Work and lightness: Studio Irvine in Milan

Your studio is just below your home. What kind of space does it occupy?

It used to be an old unused storage space, I know that in the nineteenth century it served as a horse stable. It is a beautiful space, four metres high, with large cast-iron columns and arches that I preserved during the renovation. I painted everything white; it helps creativity and keeps the mind open to new projects. 

How did you design the studio to encourage both individual work and moments of sharing?

There are of course desks with computers, although my collaborators often bring their own laptops and work from the sofa. Then there is another space, almost like a living room, very informal. There used to be a large table there, but I removed it and now it is empty, I work there, placing my drawings directly on the floor. There is no meeting room: if I’m speaking with someone everyone can hear. It has always been like this: sharing, and being aware of what is happening around you, is essential for me. 

Why did you include a kitchen in a workspace?

For several reasons. The first is that one of our rituals is drinking coffee together. I have a V-ZUG induction cooktop, and when we make coffee with the moka pot the studio fills with its wonderful aroma. We are also close to a fantastic pastry shop, so every morning the smell of freshly baked brioche drifts into the studio. It’s a very Italian way to start the day. And my collaborators often have lunch in the studio, so they need a place to warm their food. Then there are the events we host, so we have a wine fridge and a dishwasher for glassware.

In your work, design, culture and business intersect. How does this balance manifest itself within the space?

The space is not rigidly divided. All the furniture is on wheels and can be moved depending on the projects we are working on, or for installations that I create during Milan Design Week or other events we host, such as Piano City, a citywide piano festival held across public and private spaces in Milan. There is a corner dedicated to architecture, with every kind of material, from pressed paper to clay, from wood to terracotta. And there is my bookshelf, which has followed me for years, filled with objects, prototypes and assorted curiosities. Of course, some spaces are fixed, such as the archive upstairs, the prototype workshop, and the kitchen.

On what principles does your studio operate?

For me, design is always a collective endeavor. Every project begins with a process of reduction, stripping away the superfluous to reveal what is essential, both in the object itself and in its creation. We work in close dialogue with materials, manufacturers, and location, guided by the Genius Loci: the unique spirit of a place. This focus permeates the entire design process, from concept to production, from logistics to communication. The result is an alchemy of space, light, and matter that quietly aspires to stand the test of time.