Terence Conran: a designer for life

Terence Conran’s vision has transformed the way Britain looks and the way it looks at itself. From home furnishings to restaurants and the interior of the modernised Centrepoint, his passion for simplicity and utility is undiminished. He talks to Emily Wright about his journey so far

“I have lived my life in a constant state of nervousness. I think that’s true for many people who build a career in a creative industry. You are always being judged.” Sir Terence Conran pauses, slowly reaching across the sofa cushion to pull a heavy glass ashtray towards him before relighting his Cuban cigar. He takes a few drags and exhales, sinking back into the upholstery in a cloud of smoke. Then, for a good 20 seconds, he says nothing, content to sit reflecting in silence for longer than most people would find comfortable. Somehow it suits him.

When he does talk, he talks at length. Always slow, always considered and always with exceptional candour. It is an oratory style well placed to recount one of the most influential creative success stories in British history.

A story that starts in 1939 when an eight-year-old Conran began making model boats in his first workshop and spans nearly eight decades up to his most recent work as founder of design and architecture studio Conran + Partners and on major schemes including Almacantar’s Centrepoint.

And so, over the course of three hours, one cigar and two glasses of white burgundy in the living room of his Berkshire country residence, the 82-year-old designer talks about everything from dining chairs to the new Design Museum, Habitat to housing and how he navigated that nervousness to become one of the best-known style and restaurant names in the world.

Butterflies and a big break

Conran’s creative journey goes back to his pre-war days as a child spent collecting the butterflies and moths that would eventually inspire his textile designs.

“I still have them all here – over in that cabinet,” he says, nodding towards an ornate wooden chest on the other side of the cavernous living room. “It’s illegal now. But back then it was OK. I loved the colours, even when I was very young.”

Some might argue he was let loose in the workshop a little too young if the shard of metal that flew off a lathe and blinded him in one eye
when he was 12 is anything to go by. “It got me out of national service at least,” he shrugs. “So that saved me a couple of years.”

And it certainly didn’t hold him back. By the time he was in his teens, he had found his first niche – “I was mad about pottery. I even built my own potters wheel out of an old car shaft.”

He was just 19, barely out of Central St Martin’s design college and working with wood and metal to create bespoke pieces of furniture, when his big break came. And what a break it was.

“I remember I was operating out of a work shop in Notting Hill Gate. And something really rather exciting happened. I had designed a chair – not a standard dining chair, they can be boring, repetitive to craft, but a statement chair.

“A friend of mine wanted one for his girlfriend who was a model in the south of France, so he took it out to her. When he returned he came to see me, quivering with excitement. ‘You’ve had an order for two of your chairs,’ he said. Someone came to the apartment, saw the chair and said he liked it. He wanted two.

“I asked who this person was. ‘Picasso’, said my friend. ‘It’s Picasso.’”

After another long, thoughtful silence Conran eventually re-engages with a smile and just a single sentence. “That was pretty thrilling.”

Conran the restaurateur

Ironically for a man known for classic, English style (you don’t get much more of a British institution than the homeware store Habitat, launched by Conran in 1964) he has been heavily inspired by French food and culture, right from his first trip in the 1950s. “I drove down the west coast in a clapped out old Lagonda eating in French cafés,” he says. “It gave me an idea.”

That idea resulted in his very first foray into the restaurant world, and indeed mainstream property expansion, in 1952. He opened The Soup Kitchen just off Trafalgar Square, WC2, and designed an interior like no one in England had ever seen before. “It had a tiled floor, tile-top tables and wicker-top stools,” he says. “It cost me £247 for the whole thing. Can you imagine that now?”

The venture was an overnight success. Conran gave Londoners something totally new – sticking to a now career-long mantra of keeping things plain, simple and useful. “There was still rationing but we were able to make stock using leftover veal bones from the butcher clarified with egg shells. I sold it for a shilling a bowl. And I had the second espresso machine in the whole of London. I drove to Turin just to collect it. It was a real job to install. No one had ever seen one before or knew what on earth to do with it.”

The Soup Kitchen signalled the start of the Conran restaurant empire – one made famous by the designer’s unique approach of taking buildings no one else would look twice at and transforming them.

“We did it with Bluebird in Chelsea, derelict. And Butler’s Wharf, derelict.” Then there is the restaurant project he dubs the most successful he has ever done. The Boundary hotel and roof top bar in the heart of Shoreditch is the epitome of east London chic, complete with roaring vertical fires. Designed by Conran between 2006 and 2008, he was in his late 70s at the time, proof that he still hasn’t lost sight of the modern trends so many years into his career. “I really did get an extraordinary reaction to that space,” he says. “Extraordinary. But Shoreditch is extraordinary. We got in just in time, as it was taking off. I hope we were one of the components that contributed to the area’s rise in popularity.”

Legacy

While Conran may have just stepped down as chairman of his company, passing the reins to son Jasper, he has left a solid property legacy and has some strong views on everything from modern developers to planning.

“We have proved that as the way people live and work changes fast, we can adapt. Apart from several social housing projects across the UK, we are doing Centrepoint where we are the architects and the interior designers. When somebody like Mike Hussey, an experienced developer, comes to us it’s because he knows we have a real knowledge of interior design. He has been a wonderful client. Interested and informed.”

And what about developers in general? “I think they are sufficiently intelligent these days to know they want to build buildings that will look good way into the future and are knowledgeable enough to brief architects and designers to encourage them to deliver.”

Then there is planning. “A major issue” for architects and developers and something Conran has come up against himself on a project close to
his heart – the £80m new Design Museum at the Commonwealth Institute Building in Kensington, SW7, due to open in 2016.

“The time taken to get all new permissions for this, my goodness. Luckily Kensington & Chelsea wanted to have it in their borough, so I think the council encouraged the planning side. But it has taken an age and I feel very bankrupt,” he laughs. “But it will be worth it. It’s going to be wonderful. It will be my biggest personal commitment to the country. The message I want to get out there with it is this: in a world where manufacturing is being taken over by robotics and computers, design is a vitally important element of each and every product we produce. We will never be the workshop of the world again. But we can still be the best and this is my way of showing everyone how. I want to encourage people to start just like I did.”

Fear and the future

Finally, back to that nervousness. Any tips for those he so desperately wants to see follow in his footsteps if and when they come up against similar problems?

“I’m not sure on that one,” he ponders through the cigar smoke. “It is crucial that fear doesn’t stand in the way as architecture and design are critical elements of our country’s creative and
property future. We must keep them alive. That’s my advice, though I am not sure how qualified I am to give it. After all, I have been nervous about absolutely everything
I have done.”

Up close and personal: Terence Conran’s preferences

• If you could give your 18-year-old self one piece of advice, it would be?

Train to be an architect

• If you could have just one drink, other than water, for the rest of your life, what would you choose?

Magnums of good red wine

• You have an open fire and seasoning. What other ingredient would you pick?

Grouse

• What is the decade you hate most for design?

The 1980s and the bling period

• What does every home need to be stylish?

A wood fire

emily.wright@estatesgazette.com