“Your purpose is to create order out of chaos”
Edition 31: An interview with Peter Norman — retired architect, reluctant artist and my father
Peter Norman, 2023, in Accord, NY (photo by AJ Lee)
It’s 1954 in Kent, England. A little boy with dark curls and thick glasses sits by the downstairs window of his family’s terraced house, staring out between a crack in the curtains. He has been drawing but is getting bored. Gray rain falls outside and there is a chill in the air as leaves fall from the sparse trees in the neighborhood. Through the mist, the spires of Canterbury Cathedral* are just about visible, still bearing scars from the Luftwaffe bombers that roared overhead like a flock of deadly eagles a decade earlier.
Behind him, the little boy’s father tinkers with a crystal radio at the table and his mother, straight brows furrowed in concentration, expertly adjusts the stitching on yet another fancy dress for the lady on the other side of town. The little boy starts to turn back towards his family — it’s your bedtime, his big sister says with relish. Then a splash and flash of light make him spin back. The quiet street is suddenly bright with the headlights of a shining silver Porsche, gliding through puddles with a throaty growl, a magical creature from another world. He catches a glimpse of the driver in a suit and slicked back hair, smoking. The little boy grabs his sketchbook, excited, and tries to capture what he’s seen.
If Steven Spielberg made a movie about my father, Peter Norman, this might be how it started (all shot at hip height, from a six year old’s perspective, naturally.) For, as thoroughly British as my dad is, his story is in many ways a classic American tale of aspiration: launching himself up and away from a predictable provincial childhood into a new identity as a long-haired, leather trouser-wearing architecture student; and continuing to seek inspiring experiences around the world throughout his life. Propelled forwards by a desire for levitation through great design, rarely looking back.
If you have ever met my dad, it will be no surprise to you that he is a Virgo. Meticulous and reluctant to concede control — his drive for perfection has led him to professional and personal heights. He was offered a partnership at the age of 30 years old in Auckland, New Zealand, where he, my mum and my sister lived for a period before I was born, before returning to the UK to take up another partnership offer in Oxford. He designed a beautiful, modern home for his family to grow up in, filled with carefully selected furniture and art. That perfectionism can also make regular domestic tasks a little intimidating in his presence: I don’t attempt to load the dishwasher in my parents’ house…
But Peter Norman cannot be contained in one over-simplified characterization. He is also fun-loving — when he gets the giggles he doubles up, his giant hands and eyebrows seeming to move independently from the rest of his body. He is practical. Having followed his engineer father around fixing boilers and other household objects, Dad understands the mechanics behind most things and is a big believer in not throwing out the instruction booklet (a trait he wishes I had inherited.) He reads voraciously, enjoys a party — red wine and Marlboro Reds being his mood enhancers of choice, back in the day — and can bash out a pencil illustration fit for publication in a matter of minutes. Oh, and he adores cars. Whenever I hear the famous guitar riff from Fleetwood Mac’s ‘The Chain’ I am transported back to Sunday afternoons as a kid, settling down to watch the weekly Formula One race together; a rare relaxed moment with my restless dad.
Mango wall by Peter Norman at his home in the UK (photo courtesy of Peter Norman)
More than anything, my father knows what he likes and what he doesn’t. He wears a dapper uniform of button down shirt, dark blue Levis and tan leather brogues everyday. He tracked down replacement wedding cutlery from a lady in Finland because they were design classics. He and my mum go on architectural tours of Germany for vacation, sleeping overnight in Bauhaus masterpieces. He refused to get a smart TV for many years because Bang&Olufsen didn’t make them. He painted an outside wall in their garden a specific shade of mango to contrast perfectly with the birch trees growing alongside it. He waited decades to buy a Ferrari 308, a car he describes as ”sculpture on wheels.” He hates clutter. He did not enjoy the ‘no reservations’ policy at Brooklyn restaurants. He does not want animals in the house.
I respect this about my dad. His unerring trust in his taste, and how far it has gotten him. It is also the reason why I will probably never stop wanting his approval.
We live on either side of the Atlantic Ocean from each other now, but recently I was lucky enough to spend some extended time with him and my mum here in the Hudson Valley. I took the opportunity to ask my father some questions, to better understand his creative journey and design inspirations.
Dad has a typically English reluctance to talk about himself, and we don’t usually spend a lot of time digging into more emotional topics: it’s just not how our bond works. So, it was special to have the chance to sit face to face and talk at length about what motivates and moves him. I hope you enjoy getting to know Peter Norman a little better too.
Peter Norman’s tan leather brogues, 2023 (photo by AJ Lee)
AJ Lee: Hi Dad. Ready? OK, let’s start at the beginning… I have a memory that you wanted to be an architect since you were a kid. Is that true or an apocryphal story in our family?
Peter Norman: I was always very good at drawing as a kid. If someone was sitting opposite me, I could draw something upside down for them to see. An aunt at some point said ‘He’ll be an architect when he grows up’ and it stuck. And I thought ‘Yeah, that sounds good.’
I never found any other alternative that attracted me more. As it happened, what I was good at at A Levels was ideally suited to architecture — Art, Physics and Geography. [Editor’s note: both my sister and I took very similar A Levels, so the apples don’t fall far from the tree. Although I personally hated Physics, hence no architecture for me.]
AJL: You have such well defined tastes. I’m curious about the types of designers and architects that you were inspired by when you were in your younger, more impressionable years?
PN: It was only at college that I began to learn about the famous names in recent architecture. One of the first places that we [he and my mum] traveled was Finland. I saw Alvar Aalto’s work. As time went on I became interested in Bauhaus principles of modernism — people like Mies van de Rohe, Arne Jacobsen. Then, during my early years in practice, Norman Foster and Richard Rogers became star architects in the UK and were inevitable influences.
Glenn Murcutt in Australia. He’s somebody who I admire because he embodies all the things that are true principles: he uses the local traditional materials of Australia — corrugated iron, timber — and he organizes the spaces to be a series of simple shapes, and responds to the climate.
AJL: What is it about all these people that captures your imagination?
PN: What appealed to me was the philosophy of changing something. This is post Second World War; when I was born and growing up there was a lot of renewal going on. Urbanism and many other things. The philosophy of producing a new way of doing things was very attractive. And, aesthetically, minimalism was very pleasing. It had a lack of decoration and therefore the new thinking was demonstrated in new clear forms — in contrast to what I’d grown up with.
AJL: I’m also interested in the real influences in your life. Would you consider any of the architects you worked with to be mentors?
PN: Once you get out into the world and begin working, you learn an enormous amount about the practice of architecture. I was in a practice with ten partners, and two of them in particular influenced me: Philip del Nevo who was a great, sensitive designer; and Gerald Linfield who taught me a lot about the commercial side of architecture.
Also, when we went off round the world [to Australia and New Zealand, in 1980], Ron Sang and Simon Carnachan, who I worked with in New Zealand, were important to me. They were both very strong designers, quite different but very strong. I was mainly working on one off housing, which was new to me. Architects in Britain don’t tend to do a lot of one off houses, we do housing developments, whereas in New Zealand buying a plot and building your own house was the common way at the time.
Interior of Ron Sang’s house in Auckland, circa 1980 (photo courtesy of Peter Norman)
AJL: You lived in Ron’s house while you were there. It became quite famous, didn’t it?
PN: Yes, Ron was quite a renowned architect. He was a patron of the arts, he collected art works and pottery, a massive collection of pottery. He was renowned for that as well as for producing his own brand of architecture. Ron always did long, low, linear flat roof houses, with an Asian influence, and integrated into the landscape.
Because I had already been working for nearly ten years by then, I was very useful in an office. Therefore I took on a lot of responsibility and they relied on me. I took on Ron’s house and job while he was touring in Europe, and I gained an aesthetic input and came away with a lot of confidence. They offered me a partnership after seven months.
AJL: Having now retired as an architect, after many decades at Oxford Architects where you were Chairman, how would you describe your style of design?
PN: I would say I am a pragmatic modernist. The practice of architecture isn’t just about aesthetics — it’s about enabling your client to achieve what they want as well as what you want; taking account of the budget and the setting, and the complexities of their brief.
I am proud of our house which is now 35 years old, because I knew what I wanted to achieve and we succeeded in producing something we’re still happy with. But although I enjoyed doing the occasional domestic project, I probably found more satisfaction in the large, multi million pound projects where I was leading a team.
Interior of Peter Norman’s home, Warborough, UK, 2023 (image courtesy of Peter Norman)
AJL: You have a distinctive style in life. Are there particular periods or design movements that you consider beautiful, and are you consciously expressing something about yourself through your choices?
PN: As a generalization, good design is timeless. If you make good choices, things last and they don’t date. I think that what denotes successful products are things that I’m happy to live with. I guess that’s my philosophy.
We’ve got a lot of B&O audio equipment, Arne Jacobsen chairs, a Le Corbusier table designed in 1929 and it’s still cutting edge modern. I’m not thinking about anyone else. I just like these things. I buy things I like, and hopefully other people will as well. But I rarely buy things just because they are fashionable at the moment.
AJL: I’ve always been aware that you are a very artistically curious person: you love to read, go to art exhibits, watch movies. Where does that creative drive come from?
PN: I didn’t come across those things in my childhood. I find art stimulating, looking at the range of art. One thing that’s essential as an architect is being aware of your environment around you. Going to art galleries reveals the development of ideas through the ages. And I’m lucky to be married to someone who shares my interests.
My dad used to create things — he had manual creativity. He’d make crystal radios, models, always building things: alterations to the house and things like that. So I grew up with those sorts of DIY skills being normal. Plus, my mum was a dressmaker at home, and very skilled. They embodied the idea of ‘Do it once, do it right.’
AJL: You and mum go to galleries all the time. Are there particular artists that you love? Why them?
PN: There is such a huge range that I appreciate. I think some of the names would be Paul Nash — a war artist. War artists were employed to depict what was going on in World War One and Two, so there are these striking images almost abstract of trenches and destruction, then landscapes, very emotive, very skillful.
Patrick Caulfield. He’s controlled, but expressive. Tom Roberts — an Australian artist. There’s one huge difference between painting in Britain and in Australia: the light. And he captures the light in Australia perfectly. The one person who struck me as magnificent is Sorolla. The National Gallery had an exhibition in 2019 and they called it the ‘Master of Light’, and his paintings are astonishing.
Peter Norman in his beloved Ferrari 308, UK, 2022 (photo by AJ Lee)
AJL: We couldn’t talk about your passions without talking about cars. What is it about them that you love and why did you choose the classic cars you own?
PN: If you can imagine being born in 1948, hardly anybody had a car. So it was very aspirational to want a car, and of course once you’re 17 years old in the UK you can drive and it gives you enormous freedom, so it was very close to my heart. My first car was a Mini. Issigonis was a genius. He turned engineering on its head.
At that time all the interesting cars were from Europe: Citroens. Alfa Romeos. They conjure up these wonderful times. So European cars have always caught my imagination. And I’m lucky enough to have two icons. A Ferrari 308, probably one of the most beautiful Ferraris; and a Porsche 911. Porsche started in 1948, the year I was made, and the 911 is 60 years old this year.
AJL: OK, but what is it about the Ferrari that you love?
PN: [Scoffs at the question.] First of all, it’s a Ferrari: a very famous name. It is just so fluid. It’s a piece of sculpture on wheels.
AJL: I want to talk about your own artistry. You are an excellent illustrator, with pencil, pen and paint. Your line drawings are as good as any in 90% of the books out there. Do you get pleasure from drawing?
PN: Well, I do but I know I can do it so it doesn’t surprise me anymore. I guess I don’t get pleasure out of drawing for drawing’s sake. I’m used to having a client and solving complex issues. Drawing is only one facet of that.
AJL: Fair enough, but I would love more drawings from you, for the record. Last question — let’s look ahead. Are there any creative ambitions you are still wanting to achieve?
PN: I’d dearly love to build another house, but I’m not going to. We’ve built two houses over the years and we’re not prepared to put ourselves through the difficulties of finding a plot and going through planning and moving to somewhere where we have to make a whole load of new friends.
I don’t have artistic ambitions. I learnt watercolors, which fell by the wayside in Covid. It’s testing because you can’t correct mistakes in watercolors. And I’m constantly fixing and creating things around the house. I understand how things work, usually.
I saw a picture of a building by Calatrava in Valencia recently and I think I want to go there. Traveling to see things is still one of the joys of life.
One of the things that I believe: I’ve learned over the years that being an architect trains you to see the big picture. You have to encompass all the factors of a building, and the design of it is a small part of it. Your purpose is to create order out of chaos.
AJL: Thank you, Dad. I’m so glad we did this.
Peter Norman, 2023, in the Hudson Valley (photo by AJ Lee)
*Note: My father was actually raised in Rochester, UK, one of the ‘Medway Towns’ in Kent, so called because of their location on the River Medway. But I took some creative license with my imagined screenplay because Canterbury Cathedral is more famous, and that’s what writers do.
As a friend, neighbour and shy fan of Peter (and of course his equally admirable sidekick Pat!) I so enjoyed reading this. He wears his talents so lightly and yet they shine brightly, as do his daughter’s