Patrick Bernatz

I’m up very early, at 4:30am, to begin work. The early hours are ideal because they allow me to think freely, sketch ideas, and review materials in quiet. I find the endless onslaught of communication (texts, calls, emails) a bit overwhelming, so those early hours are specifically carved out just for me. An extra bonus is if I can light a fire during the cooler months.

A strong pour-over with whole milk. If I’m quiet enough, I’ll make a cortado at home, but because we’re under renovation, those silent moments are hard to come by.

One remaining ceramic Italian cup I purchased while living in Milan. It used to belong to a larger set, but over the years I’ve managed to break all but one.

The rear corner of the living room has a wonderful view of the arroyo. I try to carve out a brief moment there before the madness of the day begins.

I try to design homes that make people aware of the seasons, the weather, and the landscape around them. I'd approach a hotel room the same way: the morning should begin with fresh air, changing light, and a simple place for coffee. Those things are luxurious, but they reconnect you to where you are. A memorable space isn't defined by what it contains. It's defined by how it makes you feel.

Right now we're living in our Pasadena home while renovating, so we're still in the process of letting the house speak and reveal itself to us. I’m definitely still in the dreaming phase.
The home was originally built in 1907 for two sisters and has beautiful Douglas fir paneling along with ingenious methods of cooling through natural ventilation. Our latest project includes a large stacking window wall that mimics the original detailing while creating a generous opening to the terrace. It will eventually allow for a seamless connection to the outdoors.

I think a meaningful way regardless of owning is investing in pieces made by the craftsman and designers in your community. Furniture created by local materials, by locals and designed for your own personal use is about as site-specific as it can get.

Some of their past lives remain visible in the titles. Skin of Us is like a ghost image of a pair of button-up shirts, made in translucent resin. Corner with Stain is a relief work made of old goat leather found in Mexico City.

And most of the colors in my work seem to come from underneath the surface; it is as if they had been painted multiple times over and over, and the old colors are sweating back through their skin.

Travel reminds you that every place has its own light, weather, sounds, and rhythms. I've realized those things exist at home too. You just have to notice them. That practice has shaped the way I design. I'm always trying to create homes that encourage people to be present in their own place, rather than simply move through it.

This one’s easy: I take a cold shower and make coffee!

Lawrence Halprin’s RSVP Cycles (1970) has been an endless source of inspiration. It focuses on process and the ways spaces can unfold and adapt over time.
Another literal source of inspiration is the photo archive on Calisphere, a free network of California libraries. Those historic photographs form the basis of much of our research and are a fascinating way to explore the past.