Pierre-Yves Rochon needs no introduction. A leading Parisian voice in the world of interior design, he embodies the idea of luxury through a constant respect for genius loci and contemporary living. Founder of the PYR studio, Rochon has signed some of the most iconic hospitality projects worldwide, – from the Four Seasons George V in Paris to the recent reopening of the Waldorf Astoria New York – redefining the very meaning of elegance through a refined balance of history, modernity, and stylistic sensitivity. Among his most recent masterpieces is the Waldorf Astoria New York – where we met him – an absolute icon of global Art Deco, which has recently reopened, unveiling once again the grandeur of its golden age. A place where, in Rochon’s pencil, design becomes an authentic cultural gesture.
Mr. Rochon, what principles guide your approach to designing luxury hotels and residences?
Being fair and being humble. That is certainly part of my philosophy. You have to listen. You need to understand what you are doing for the people who will live in these spaces. Design is not about asserting one’s ego, but about serving those who will inhabit them. My philosophy is based on respect, because I have a responsibility toward people. A project can be a success, or it can be a serious mistake. That is why I always try to be “right,” rather than visionary.
How do you reconcile classical elegance with contemporary comfort?
Contemporary comfort is not a design object or a fashionable finish. It is about functionality, circulation, light, and space. If a project truly works, elegance comes naturally. Design follows later—first comes the guest’s experience.
In your work, dialogue with history is always central. How do you approach the relationship between a place’s identity and interior design?
The starting point is always the place. When you are in a room, I want you to feel where you are: New York, Paris, London. It must be clear, immediate, almost instinctive. This is fundamental to me. It is not easy, because it means connecting an idea to style, history, and the city itself. But if, for example, you are in the spa at the George V and someone asks whether you feel you are in Paris – and the answer is yes – then the project works.
How do culture, history, and architectural context influence your creative process?
If you work in a historic building without understanding its DNA, you are doing the wrong job. I study archives, drawings, proportions, colors, but also the invisible soul of a place. Every city has a different sensitivity. The project must absorb all of this, without becoming mimetic or nostalgic.
The Waldorf Astoria is a global Art Deco icon. What was your main priority in reinterpreting its identity without betraying its essence?
Respect was the priority. You cannot reinterpret something without first understanding it deeply. The Waldorf’s Art Deco is not decoration – it is structure, rhythm, proportion. I worked to bring back light, fluidity, and functionality without erasing memory. The building had become dark, closed, almost defensive. We needed to bring it back to life. There was also a major issue: the lobby felt more like a service station than a residential hotel space. In addition, the guest arrival sequence was not functional – entering from the back, with luggage, exposed to wind, snow, and rain. That is why we designed a covered portico. This is exactly what I mean when I speak of combining past and future.
Is there a specific interior detail that best represents your intervention at the Waldorf?
The lobby, because it is the heart of the hotel. But also the corridors and the rooms. Corridors are conceived as a journey, not as anonymous transitional spaces. The suites were designed as New York apartments: we completely redesigned them, including the bathrooms, which were originally very small. Today the minimum size is around 60 square meters.
Which materials or finishes evoke the hotel’s original refinement, and which reflect a more innovative approach?
We used materials that dialogue with marble and deep tones, reinterpreted through a contemporary sensitivity. Innovation is not in the material itself, but in how it is used: more light, more space, more breathing room. If you study the subtleties between 18th- and 19th-century classicism and contemporary design, Art Deco sits right in between. That is where you can play between modern and classical.
At the Four Seasons George V, what was the guiding principle of the restoration?
It was built in the same period as the Waldorf Astoria – 1929. The volumes of the public spaces worked well; they were not overly tall, while the rooms were very luxurious. We preserved the hotel’s DNA because the owner wanted it to remain the George V. At the same time, guests needed to feel they were in Paris. That balance was essential.
How does your method change from one city to another?
The dream of Paris is not the same as the dream of New York. The 1930s may seem similar, but the Waldorf represents monumental New York Art Deco. In Paris, I work with a form of French classicism rooted in the 19th century. London is different again – you study the genius loci. At the Dorchester there is classic English style with a very British sense of eccentricity. I am now working on the Ritz: it must be French, but not as if you were in Paris – it must be French as seen through London’s eyes. A brand has the same DNA, but it must be told differently each time. This is interesting for guests and for the brand, and it is very important to me, because it prevents me from copying myself.
How important is functionality?
It is one of the first aspects. You can create the most beautiful design in the world, but if it does not work – if people cannot work properly, if guests cannot find the restaurants – then the project fails. Once hospitality functionality is resolved, you know how to move forward, and from there you can build the dream.
A detail you consider your stylistic signature?
Light. It represents at least 30 percent of every project. It can enhance architecture or destroy it. Light is an ally, never an enemy. Light is architecture, emotion, well-being. It must be delicate and reveal both mind and body.
Does your approach change between residential and hospitality projects?
The method is the same. Hospitality and residential design must be connected. Many solutions developed for hotels work perfectly in private homes, and vice versa. I have worked this way for over thirty years, and that is why people return and feel comfortable.
Is there a project you still dream of realizing?
I would love to work on a public building: a railway station or a museum. The station, in particular, fascinates me because it represents a moment in life connected to travel. Today, stations and airports are very similar, yet airports are often more welcoming. Why? I believe it is because we do not think of stations as places where people can linger and feel comfortable, even though in the near future – especially in Europe – trains will be the most widely used means of transport. We could rethink stations as comfortable places with high-quality restaurants and services. I remember traveling by train from Lyon to Paris with tablecloths, silver cutlery, good food – it was normal. Today we can reinterpret that spirit in a contemporary way, imagining stations as elegant, welcoming spaces. That, to me, is the future.
