It has been a busy, award-winning few years for Michael Anastassiades. The Cypriot-born, London-based designer picked up a prestigious Compasso d’Oro from the Milan-based Association for Industrial Design in 2020 and was distinguished as an Officer of the Order of the British Empire (OBE) last year. This week he also won the London Design Medal, which was presented during the city’s namesake design festival. The award is a recognition of more than three decades of outstanding work from his studio, which commands international attention for its refined approach to lighting design and partnerships with brands, including Flos.

Tell us about your design ethos.
My work is about layering. You have to introduce layers otherwise your work will remain very superficial. If you’re addressing only one small thing then there is no chance that the project will have longevity or relevance. You need to keep people excited about something that they see every day. Excitement should grow if something, from furniture to lighting, is part of your house – every time that you use it should trigger your imagination.

How is this ethos expressed in your work?
I’m able to express it through my own brand. We never put any protective layers on our products. The brass, for instance, is unfinished, so it develops its own patina over time. You can polish it if you want. This allows you to build a relationship with the object.

How does this approach speak to the design industry more broadly?
It’s important to remember that you cannot control everything. This is what makes an object feel alive. Take vintage pieces as an example – there’s amazing demand for them because they have had a life that is clearly visible in the way that they have patinated. But a lot of the companies are now putting protective layers, such as lacquers, on their products. It means that they can’t age and remain pristine. We don’t see leather upholstery developing beautiful cracks and folds. All of a sudden, everything looks plastic.

You studied civil engineering, then industrial engineering, and then immediately set up your studio after graduation. Why take this route?
I started my studio because I thought that I had something different to say. As a model, my planned approach didn’t seem to exist around me. Usually you have a model of somebody – a practice or an individual designer – that has done something amazing that you can relate to. And it seemed that at that time, in London in the 1990s, there was nothing like I wanted. Similar approaches had existed in the 1960s – radical designers, especially in Italy, were doing amazing things with extreme and conceptual design ideas. I wanted to do that but serve the time that we were living in.

What design movement has influenced you the most?
Modernism is what I’m drawn to. But at the same time, it doesn’t mean that I am absolute in that relationship. I allow space for everything else to exist too.

What’s a recurring source of inspiration?
I love art. It really nourishes my mind. I’m fascinated by people’s creativity. I tend to venture to a museum, exhibition or gallery every weekend. It doesn’t matter whether they’re famous institutions or small ones – I believe that every place has something special to offer if you’re open to it.

When you started your studio, you also worked as a yoga teacher to supplement your income. How did this other career affect your work?
Everything you do in life affects the next thing that you try. Yoga definitely was and is a big part of my life. It taught me to approach what I do from an outside perspective. Whenever I feel that I’m too invested in design, it allows me to step back and be critical of what it is that I’m doing for myself.

What’s a priority for you and the industry going forward?
Design is deeply personal and it’s also a dialogue. As a designer, you have something to say with your products and it’s an opportunity to trigger somebody’s imagination. There has to be an open door for the dialogue to pass through and people should want to engage with it.