Profile: George Livissianis

Brutal, spartan, minimal – the visual language of Sydney interior architect George Livissianis is softly spoken, allowing the elemental details to really sing.

George Livissianis lives a life without noise. Not in the literal sense – at his terrace home studio in Sydney’s Paddington he’s playing, ever so quietly, some instrumental jazz – but, rather, he prefers to avoid distraction. He doesn’t have social media. Nor does the website of his namesake interior architectural practice have any content, save for a list of accolades and his contact details. When he’s deep in a project, he prefers to shut down outside influences to keep his focus sharp until an idea is fully formed.

“I think I resonate with cultures that are able to describe things in the simplest form,” he says.

It’s a monkish approach that’s particularly interesting in the context of Livissianis’s broader oeuvre, which seems to prescribe not to trends but to higher principles related to the way in which we interact with and respond to an environment. For example, in his work there are elements drawn from Dutch design – like natural light, functionality and raw materials – and these share much in common with the wabi-sabi manifestation of Japanese culture. “I think I resonate with cultures that are able to describe things in the simplest form,” he says. “If you really get rid of all the embellishments, then what is it? You find that in coastal Mediterranean architecture as much as you do in Scandinavia.”

By eschewing surface decoration and vibrant colour, Livissianis does something clever in drawing one’s eye to the otherwise unnoticed details of materiality. In his terrace, for example, the original brickwork has been stripped raw to unearth its textural patina and mottled palette, while the prefabricated concrete slabs that form the extension still bear the mouldings from which they were cast. “I always look at the innate quality of the materials that we build with. Where some might line over every surface, like a set that’s been built on top of the architecture, I’d rather it just be as raw as possible and use all those elements to actively contribute to the space,” he says. “So many people might look at it and not think it acceptable to leave a finish like that, but I want to have these imperfections. It feels honest to me.”

By eschewing surface decoration and vibrant colour, Livissianis does something clever in drawing one’s eye to the otherwise unnoticed details of materiality.

His approach isn’t always the same. In retail projects, where Livissianis might be working within the pre-existing confines of a shopping centre, there’s often not the history or character that he seeks to preserve and enhance in older buildings. “If there’s a raw column or wall, I’ll just latch onto that and say, ‘Okay, we’re going to build our scheme around this,’” he says.

In the case of his hospitality work – including such Sydney establishments as Greek restaurant The Apollo, Japanese izakaya Cho Cho San, Merivale’s South-East Asian venue MuMu and Maurice Terzini’s Surry Hills pub, The Dolphin – Livissianis will take his cues from the ethnicity of the food. “It lets us look at those things in a bit more depth,” he says. He has the self-awareness to realise that while these historical and cultural influences do creep in, it’s important not to be beholden to them. “It has to be interpreted; it can’t just be a rip-off.”

He has the self-awareness to realise that while these historical and cultural influences do creep in, it’s important not to be beholden to them.

It has been nearly two decades since Livissianis founded his studio. He graduated with honours from UNSW’s Bachelor of Interior Architecture degree in 1998, taking out its Herman Miller Design Prize, and worked for several years at BKH (Burley Katon Halliday) before going solo in 2007. And, despite his aversion to digital media and self-promotion, he’s built a practice of around 10 full-time staff members and a portfolio of significant clients – ranging from Australian retailer Jac+Jack and jeweller Sarah & Sebastian to private residences across Sydney – largely through word-of-mouth.

At any one time, he’ll have upwards of 10 projects on the go. “The benefit of being a small studio is that – and I say this modestly – we’re able to pick and choose the projects we work on, so every project feels very creatively energising to me,” says Livissianis. “That’s a fortunate position to be in, but I realised a long time ago that I’m happy to have a small studio and to focus on getting better than everything I’ve done in the past. That’s the mindset.”

It’s testament to his craftsmanship and unpretentious approach that just about every project, which bears Livissianis’s signature remains largely unchanged, such is the enduring nature of his style. He could undoubtedly scale the business, but it would conflict with his hands-on nature. “There’s always another person on a project, at least one, but ultimately, I’m there for every second of it. I enjoy having a small studio for that reason, but I think it’s also expected from the people I work with that I’d be involved, that I’m there no matter what.”

Livissianis is also a stickler for drawing by hand – every project begins with sketching a response to the site – and he likes to keep the creative ideas alive throughout the process by drawing them again and again to ensure they’re compositionally clear. “I’m sure the team finds it annoying, but when you have a small studio and your name’s on the door, it’s important.”

“So many people might look at it and not think it acceptable to leave a finish like that, but I want to have these imperfections. It feels honest to me.”