Kengo Kuma: ‘I am not attached to objects at all’

My personal style signifiers are minimalist, comfortable clothing – black jackets, sometimes by Issey Miyake, and always T-shirts. My clothes are like my own designs: spare and simple.

The last thing I bought and loved was a Danish chair for my furniture collection. The design is human and intimate. I have Mies van der Rohe and Hans Wegner chairs; architects often like uniformity but I like to experiment with different styles.

The place that means a lot to me is The Opposite House in Beijing – although I am slightly biased as it’s my own design. It’s a hotel, but the use of natural materials such as wood and stone makes it comfortable and warm. It is an oasis. Everything is minimal – a stainless-steel pool, wooden water basins – so it feels serene and uncluttered.

The design that has most inspired my work is a set of black ceramic tiles that were given to me in China. These influenced my design for the China Academy of Art in Hangzhou, specifically the grey roof. I love the beauty of Chinese ceramics, and materials that are of a place.

The best book I’ve read in the past year is First Person Singular by my good friend Haruki Murakami. His novels have a sort of tunnel structure and I apply this same design philosophy to my buildings. We inspire each other.

My style icons are farmers. I like workwear and the simplicity of this local vernacular. My grandfather taught me how to grow vegetables and was a mentor to me. Another icon is Sen no Rikyu – a 16th-century Japanese tea master who raised the ritual to an art form.

The best gift I’ve given recently was a sketch, to a client, made on tenugui “kerchief” – a gift towel used to wrap presents. I like to sketch on tenuguis. They are applied with a special dyeing process and have a rough texture, but are nonetheless elegant.

And the best gift I’ve received is a huge load of vegetables from the mayor of the city of Sakai-shi in the Osaka prefecture. I am designing some small buildings for the community there, and as a thank you he gave me all kinds of fresh produce – aubergines, cucumbers, ginger – which were all irregularly shaped, not shiny like supermarket produce. They were a different kind of delicious.

The last music I downloaded was by Ryuichi Sakamoto, who worked on The Last Emperor. We are longtime friends and I have been influenced by his music. It remains very contemporary.

In my fridge you’ll always find Japanese sake, especially old sake from the Masuizumi label. They make two-year-old and five-year-old sakes that are full of unique flavour. You’ll also find genmai brown rice which has a rich, nutty flavour.

My style icons are farmers. I like workwear and the simplicity of this local vernacular

The works of art that changed everything for me were Japanese gardens. These are, to me, more spectacular than any painting. Muso Kokushi was a 14th-century designer who has influenced my own work so much – his use of moss and stone was wild and stunningly beautiful. He is considered a “national Zen teacher”.

I’ve recently rediscovered funazushi, a type of fermented sushi that was popular before there was refrigeration. Some can’t eat it because of the smell, but I particularly like the crucian carp variety. You won’t find this in Tokyo, but rather in seaside prefectures such as Toyama-ken and Fukui-ken.

The one artist whose work I would collect if I could isn’t so much an artist as an art form: Chinese and Japanese calligraphy. These scrolls are impressive; I love the contrast of rice paper and ink.

The grooming staple I’m never without is Hatomugi rice soap. I have tried many other kinds but this is the best. It is made with seeds and is very cleansing.

An indulgence I would never forgo is… Nothing. My tastes are simple.

An object I would never part with is… Nothing. I am not attached to objects at all. 

My favourite room in my house is my terrace in Tokyo. I love outdoor spaces and I have a collection here of all kinds of plants. Every morning small birds come to feed and it’s a serene setting.

In another life, I would have been a veterinarian. I adore animals, particularly cats.

The best bit of advice I’ve ever received was from a university professor who said: “Don’t refuse anything, accept it all.” He encouraged me to be open to all new things – places, people, foods. We travelled to the Sahara together and it was so eye-opening. 

A university professor told me: “Don’t refuse anything, accept it all”

The best souvenir I’ve brought home is an inexpensive, classic Chinese shelf that I purchased in a nondescript shop in Beijing. It’s now in my living room and holds all of my souvenirs. I travel the world – we have projects in more than 30 countries – and so my taste in souvenirs is eclectic.

I have a collection of rice papers from all over Asia. I have many different textures, all in different shades of white, and each relates to a specific place. I use them for making pictures with pen and ink.

The last item of clothing I added to my wardrobe was a T-shirt with an image of a cat that I got in a small shop in Okinawa-ken. I love cats and quirky things that aren’t mass-produced, and this T-shirt is fun and comfortable.

The things I couldn’t do without are pencils. I sketch whenever an idea strikes so I carry pencils with me everywhere, in all of my pockets. I don’t much care what brand, just so long as I have a piece of paper and a pencil on hand…

The buildings that changed everything for me are by Frank Lloyd Wright. He came to Japan and found the essence of our culture in a way that we couldn’t. This translated to his buildings, in particular Fallingwater, the Pennsylvanian house that he designed in the 1930s. It has literally made me weep.