When architect Pierre Botschi was made redundant after 14 years with Richard Rogers, he found the going tough 鈥 until he met interiors specialist Jack Pringle and moved into hotels.
When Pierre Botschi first met Jack Pringle, there was a bit of a mix-up. Although the two architects hit it off instantly, when they swapped photographs of each other鈥檚 work they had trouble separating them again. To their surprise, their designs had so much in common 鈥 both say they design buildings from the inside out 鈥 that they could not remember whose pictures were whose.

Botschi, a former Richard Rogers Partnership design director, and Pringle, a founding partner in interiors specialist Pringle Brandon, were introduced by engineer YRM just over three years ago. Not long after, they hesitantly entered into what they called a 鈥渢rial marriage鈥 and began working on designs together. Pringle Brandon wanted to broaden its remit beyond interiors to do entire buildings; Botschi wanted bigger projects than he was attracting as a sole practitioner.

The idea worked. Their first collaboration as Pringle Brandon Botschi, a 拢30m five-star hotel in the Austrian spa resort of Loipersdorf, has just gone on site.

Although obviously happy in his new partnership, Botschi鈥檚 CV suggests that designing something as conventional as a hotel might not be top of his design wishlist. He has worked for a string of experimental architects 鈥 Erno Goldfinger, Lord Rogers and Derek Walker, who headed the Milton Keynes Development Corporation in the 1970s 鈥 and invariably produced unconventional buildings. Richard Rogers Partnership鈥檚 Inmoss microchip factory at Newport, South Wales, is a Botschi design.

鈥淲hen I left Rogers, I didn鈥檛 want to be doing hotels. Not at all,鈥 admits the 58-year-old German-speaking Swiss. His speech is still heavily tinged with his native accent, despite 31 years in the UK. 鈥淏ut every architect takes what comes along, especially when he鈥檚 opened up a new shop. You can鈥檛 be too choosy,鈥 he says with characteristic frankness.

Both Botschi and Pringle say they 鈥渂adly鈥 want to do an office building, preferably in London. You sense that something to rival the dominance of Rogers and Foster (Botschi worked for them at Team Four) would fit the bill.

But for now, hotels are it. The practice has another commission for a hotel at a racecourse somewhere in Britain and a string of other hotel enquiries on its books. Botschi says that, to his surprise, it is proving to be 鈥済reat fun鈥.

The dapper Swiss is thriving in his new working environment after seven years as a sole practitioner. He was made redundant by Rogers in 1992 after he had been with the practice for 14 years: 鈥淎 life sentence. No, just joking.鈥

It was the height of the recession, and the practice had run into bad times. 鈥淭o use his own words, Rogers decided to cut vertically through the organisation. Of course it was a shock. You don鈥檛 expect that,鈥 says Botschi.

It was a bad time to set up a new practice, but he says he bears his old boss no ill will. However, despite his track record, he found people 鈥渞emarkably unwilling鈥 to give a solo architect work. 鈥淓ven if you think you have excellent connections, people don鈥檛 take you seriously.鈥

An unhappy collaboration with ORMS was followed by commissions including a London office for top-notch lighting firm Erco. But he was still 鈥渓ooking for support鈥.

The Pringle Brandon arrangement has been a boon. 鈥淚f you鈥檙e a small fish, you can鈥檛 get the best consultants to work with. Now I get good projects and it鈥檚 in my own name,鈥 he says. But it hasn鈥檛 all been plain sailing. Despite Pringle and Chris Brandon鈥檚 background in mainstream architecture 鈥 they met at architect Powell Moya 鈥 their first commission has involved a 鈥渟teep learning curve鈥, according to Botschi.

鈥淒oing fit-outs is a completely different kettle of fish from architecture,鈥 he says. 鈥淚t involves very definite deadlines because, say, if you鈥檙e doing a bank, you may be talking about moving 200 to 300 people. In architecture, until a building is actually on the ground, you don鈥檛 have a job.鈥

Looking back on his career, however, Botschi becomes wistful, as though he expects never to hit the architectural heights again. He says his five years with Milton Keynes Development Corporation were the best. They typified the experimental spirit of the 1960s that he had come to London looking for in 1968.

鈥淚鈥檇 say the first two years at Milton Keynes were equal to the Swinging Sixties for me. There was this feeling we were building the best city in the world. Of course we didn鈥檛 know what we were doing,鈥 he teases.

And no, he was not responsible for the concrete cows. 鈥淚 wouldn鈥檛 mind. They鈥檙e quite a good joke,鈥 he says.

Personal effects

Where did you buy your blue suede shoes? In a Spanish shop called Zara, on Regent Street. What book are you reading? Waiting for Godot. Again. Do you read in German or English? I nearly always read in English now. I definitely don鈥檛 seek out German books. Who鈥檚 in your family? My wife, Luz Vargas, and Pia, my daughter from my previous marriage. What car do you drive? I have two. One, a Matra, is a three-seat fibreglass sports car, an experiment. The other 鈥 I hate to say it 鈥 is a Porsche. I don鈥檛 like the stigma that goes with it, but I do like the speed. What music are you into? Modern jazz. Miles Davis is my favourite.