Some years ago a client of mine approached me to help him redesign one of the Pacific Northwest’s oldest hotels. Today, the Heathman Hotel is among the very best in the city – or any city for that matter. It’s a beautiful space with high ceilings, curved staircases and some of the finest woodwork I have ever seen. It is a masterpiece on so many levels.

The Heathman Restaurant is well known by locals and visitors alike. Its chefs are leaders in developing a type of Pacific Cuisine that would make native son, James Beard, smile. And, it’s a comfortable space year-round. My job was to design the space. Some people believe it is my signature job. I am not sure about that, but I understand that architects and designers are best known by their most well-known and well-regarded projects. And, so I am happy to wear the mantle of the fellow who designed the Heathman Hotel.

I grew up in Louisville, Kentucky and spent my formative years in the Bluegrass State. The architecture in that region is more ante-bellum than modern. The drama of the homes and public buildings are designed to humble people. At the age of 8, I moved from Kentucky to Oregon where architecture was more a practical matter – simple construction techniques yielding to the need to simply get out of the rain. And while there were international architectural phenoms here like Pietro Belluschi (a native Portlander and the former dean of MIT’s School of Architecture) designing spaces that inspired played a secondary role in development.

For more than 25 years, I have focused my practice in one form or another on creating spaces where people can enjoy themselves in the company of friends – and strangers. And while I’ve created and remodeled a wide variety of spaces – from homes to offices to public spaces – I’ve always loved the hospitality side of my work. That passion extends from the front door through the doors of the kitchen clear to the back door.

In me, my clients have a designer who understands where the lighting will cast the most dramatic shadows coupled with an understanding of where the dishwasher should be located near the line. It’s pure passion for me to see these two issues come together in places where writers and artists are then inspired to do greater things. What would Harry’s Bar in Venice have been without the writers who were inspired by the space, the service, the food and the characters who dwelled there?

A restaurant is more the sum of its parts than almost any other type of venue. It’s the details that matter and so I have spent years perfecting how one should engineer spaces that not only feed people, but are comfortable and practical for the staff. The front of the house is only as good as the back of the house; they must work in tandem. My practice today reflects my study of how people work and play in places that are comfortable, inspiring and utilitarian.