What personal meaning does hedonism hold for you today?

Ultimately, my personal definition is quite close to the classical one. To me, hedonism is the pursuit of all forms of pleasure, whatever they may be. It is not limited to the pleasures we immediately think of, such as carnal or sexual pleasures. Of course, those can be part of it, but they are neither central nor exclusive. Hedonism is a broader quest for anything that can bring pleasure into life. This expanded perspective is what seems essential to me. 

How do you see the connection between hedonism and architecture?

I see several connections. First, there is an intrinsic hedonistic dimension in the creation of any architectural project. If there is no pleasure in imagining, designing, and developing a project from the beginning, it inevitably shows in the result. You can immediately recognise a project created with pain versus one made with pleasure — it’s obvious.

At Studio KO, we place great importance on cultivating this from the start. It’s crucial that the teams, and ourselves, feel genuine pleasure in what we do. That every morning, we feel excited to get up and work on the day’s tasks with enthusiasm. This daily joy, this appetite for our projects, is a form of hedonism we have cultivated since the beginning. 

So, it’s the pleasure of creating, in a way?

Exactly. It’s the pleasure that creation can bring — and it’s the starting point for everything. Once you establish that mindset, the challenge is sustaining it, because you no longer fully control the atmosphere.  At the agency, we try to maintain a pleasant environment, a place where people feel good — physically, emotionally, humanly. We created a home-like studio, very protective, where every detail matters, even food. Once a month, someone comes in to cook, and we all share a meal in the courtyard. We organise small events like bingo nights to keep the bonds alive.

This spirit builds genuine motivation and a family-like dynamic, delicate but strong. Many former collaborators still come back to our parties. The door stays open. Friendships endure beyond work. This energy feeds directly into our projects.

Hedonism, for us, means creating a space where pleasure is part of the process — not just for us, but ultimately for our clients too. The goal is to create places where people feel good, where living becomes a pleasure. 

Can you walk me through your process, and how the energy you invest along the way leaves its mark on the building?

It all begins when we receive a project, it continues through construction, and it ends in the client’s hands.

The most challenging part is always construction. That’s when the project becomes collective — shared between engineers, consultants, landscapers, lighting designers, inspectors. Each adds something. Sometimes it’s enriching. Sometimes it’s difficult.

The Saint Laurent Museum in Marrakech was a rare case where everything aligned. From the first client meeting to the first sketches, to working with Pierre Bergé, everything flowed. There was no shouting, no slamming doors. We shared meals with the workers, cooked lamb in a bitumen fire — a tradition on Moroccan sites. There was a sense of urgency because Pierre Bergé was ill, but also a shared, quiet joy. We all knew why we were doing it, and the building carries that spirit today. You can feel it in the air.

When projects are born from tension, the final space holds that tension too. When they are born from pleasure, the pleasure lingers. You can’t fake it. Hedonism appears in the invisible — in the human investment at every stage. Not just in material comfort, but in the way a space is inhabited, shaped, and loved. Even in historical buildings, even when the past is obscure, you can sense it. The human story, the way a place has been cared for, passed down, touched — that is where the hedonism of a space truly lives.