Words with... / Renzo Piano, Italy
Tall stories
Renzo Piano was always going to be an architect. The octogenarian Italian designer – whose studio, Renzo Piano Building Workshop, has offices in Paris and his hometown of Genoa – was born into a family of builders. “I grew up with this idea of the architect-builder.” It’s an approach that saw him develop a style that is both experimental and practical, helping him land the Pritzker Architecture Prize in 1998 and be appointed a senator for life in Italy in 2013 – an appropriate post for a man whose work has helped to shape cities and countries for more than 60 years. For Monocle’s November issue, we caught up with Piano (pictured, right) at his studio in Genoa.
Image: Christoph Haiderer
Image: Christoph Haiderer
Tell us about your approach to architecture.
In my view, architecture is about telling stories. There is no building in the world that doesn’t. Even the most modest hut is telling a story – it’s not just answering a need but answering the desires and aspirations of the person who lives in it. Architecture is a profession where you need to be very serious about seeking truths. You also need a vision of humanity and a better place to live.
What makes you happy in your work?
In 1976, after finishing the Centre Pompidou with Richard Rogers, the film-maker Roberto Rossellini came to make a film there. It was the last piece that he made before he died and it was at a time when I was very worried about how people would react to this unexpected building. I was there one day, walking around anxiously, and Roberto told me, “Renzo, you should not watch the film. Watch the people watching the building. That’s much better.” It was a very good suggestion because you see the structure reflected in people’s eyes. Since then, I have always done this. I sometimes go back to look at my buildings and the people using them. It makes me happy to see happy people. If they are happy, the building is happy.
It seems like some architects fear their buildings being lived in and changing as people use them.
I love to make buildings that change. They are like an organism. I don’t believe in perfection. I try to design for the quality of flexibility and this means that you make spaces that can adapt. Take the Centre Pompidou. In the past 40 years it has been changed twice – and it will change again – but being able to change with the times is an essential quality of buildings, especially public ones.
For more from Renzo Piano, pick up a copy of Monocle’s November issue.