French architect Pierre-Yves Rochon, who since 1979 has designed the interiors of places that are symbols of absolute luxury: hotel chains such as Four Seasons, Ritz, Fairmont, Waldorf Astoria, restaurants for Michelin-starred chefs such as Joël Robuchon and Alain Ducasse, is one of the stars of the Salone del Mobile.Milano, which opens on April 8.
For the Salone, Rochon conceived Villa Héritage, a space for exhibition and suggestion, where design is a common and timeless language, capable of crossing past and present, bringing all the arts into dialogue and making people think about the idea of transmission. With a square floor plan like a Palladian villa, Villa Héritage combines memory and innovation, introducing an idea of luxury that is not only aesthetic, but an experience of harmony, culture and suggestion. Each room is a chapter of a story. There is the clean room, where light becomes cinema and projection transforms surfaces into visual poetry. The winter garden evokes Italian landscapes with brilliant shades of green. The Red Salon explodes in all the theatricality of Italian opera (with a special presence), while the Plum Library invites immersion in a world of ideas. At the center is the courtyard dedicated to music, where an Alpange digital piano finds its natural home and is played by musicians: underlining that emotion is always an unrepeatable moment.
“Heritage and the past are not constraints; they are a source of freedom,” remarks Rochon. “To understand and master the legacy of our craft is to acquire the tools that allow us to reinvent and transcend the boundaries of design. Villa Héritage celebrates this dynamic interplay between history and contemporary creativity, engaging all the senses and offering an experience in which light, texture, and sound converge to evoke emotion. Art remains our eternal source of inspiration, elevating design into a timeless dialogue with humanity.”
We met Rochon in his Paris studio, facing a historic residence now transformed into a museum — the Musée Nissim de Camondo, born from one Belle Époque financier’s passion for the French eighteenth century — a location that, perhaps, is no coincidence.
Regarding your project, I read a phrase that made me think: heritage is a form of freedom. Could you explain this concept further?
In the world of design, we are all, so to speak, “categorized” according to our tastes, but I believe that in creativity, in creation — and this applies to design, to music, to painting — such categorization makes no sense. I have never wanted to be put in a box: the freedom to create is unique and true. When one is engaged in any form of art — music, painting, sculpture, architecture — one possesses a certain freedom that is universal. And so, at the Salone, I want to convey the idea that we must take the past in order to build the present. And this, in turn, will shape the future. That is what heritage is.
What will be inside Villa Héritage?
It’s a 400-square-meter house, where objects selected from the exhibitors in pavilions 13 and 15 — those most closely connected to the classical world — will be on display. A mise-en-scène encompassing all the elements of creativity: music, light, art, fragrance, flowers. Classical design will find its rightful place within a modern home. I want to take visitors on a journey, where they can discover the extraordinary beauty of what we call heritage. We’ve brought together the classical and the contemporary. The architecture is grand, with five-meter-high ceilings, and each room is defined by a different color. There will, of course, be furniture, but also other realms — such as music: La Scala will be with us as well. In the red salon, you’ll hear Callas in *La Traviata*, and there will be an original costume she wore in Visconti’s celebrated production. Alongside, one hundred red roses. There will also be contemporary art, and at the heart of the villa, a digital piano on which musicians will play, filling the space with music.
What does modernity mean to you?
I believe it is a creative act, the expression of a moment in time. When you entered my office, you may have noticed the two *Barcelona* chairs by Mies van der Rohe — they’re from 1929. And yet they are utterly modern.
An artist once said that all art has been contemporary.
Of course — and the same holds true for design and for furniture.
In your view, why do some people choose chrome, beige, and steel, while others prefer gilding and more ornate, elaborate furniture?
I don’t know if I have the best answer in the world to that. You can place a minimal metal piece in a home full of mouldings, or conversely, a magnificent commode in a pristine, linear, white space. There is a significant cultural component: when one has the ability to choose, one can surrender to freedom. But for many, there’s a lack of curiosity — and that means being influenced. I’ve generally noticed that those who choose classical style often do so to assert a certain position in society: all heads of state — apart from the Germans or the Swedes — opt for the classical. It’s a choice that can stem from very different motivations.
What I hope to demonstrate is that beauty is always present, and that it’s not necessary to live in environments where everything must be beige, or white, or red. One must know how to live with everything — and that is the essence of creativity.
Modernity is also something I breathe in Italy, when I visit artisans and companies: you still have those who practice *scagliola* or inlay, and right beside them, companies using CNC machines. We French are more rigid. After all, what was our Renaissance if not the moment we invited Italian artists and artisans to France?
