After your training in fusing polarising approaches to architecture, how did texture play a role in your practice? How do you manipulate both optical and tactile textures in structures?

It’s very important to have texture but what’s equally important is the light that’s involved in the material play. Natural or artificial lighting, if not involved in the design, causes the texture to lose its lustre. I cannot really look at texture and light as not working together in design. There’s no way to learn these things other than to experience them and we do a lot of research, experimentations and mock-ups even on the job sites.

Do you consider how light affects your buildings at different times of the day?

I remember travelling to Japan one time and we were in a very old riyokan. The owner, upon finding out I was an architect, asked, “Do you know what these water vats are for?” pointing to catch basins for rainwater placed under the eaves. It was around 4 in the afternoon as he explained, “The sun from the West reflects the water and illuminates the interior spaces, allowing light to flow inside the house”. Since then, I’ve always understood the power of nature as material in brightening up space. The sun's path is different from the morning, noon and night so it’s something that we as designers should always be thinking about.

There are different types of textures. What drives you to use which on what surface?

I try to design contextually. For example, there is a beach house we’re working on in Samal which can only be approached by boat. Situated on a craggy rock formation, the first thing I said to the owners was, “If I’m going to do this, I will not remove these rock formations and in fact will work around it so it could be part of the architecture”. I wanted people to see and feel that rock texture throughout the house so they don’t feel too detached from its natural surroundings. You can’t use all of the nice materials out there, especially with sustainability issues. I learnt from Jennings’ school of thought that you really have to exhibit much restraint, to avoid muddling the material language.

Can you tell us more about visual and physical texture in architecture?

One must experience space and not just look at it in photos. For example, my favourite building in the world is the Barcelona Pavilion of Mies Van der Rohe. I’ve seen that in photos so many times that I can draw every nook and cranny of it from memory. But only when I actually visited and experienced the space did I realise how mind-boggling the mastery was of how different stones can go together. I could never forget that.

How does the magic happen in putting together all these textures and materials?

I try to be truthful to the material. When we use wood, we use real wood, for the most part. Wood weathers and it’s fine that it does. I always tell my clients that weathering is part of the beauty of architecture. If you notice, the rooflines of Paris have become patinated green and they never clean it up because that’s part of the city’s beauty. Or if you’re in the Nordic region, there are beautiful houses made of wood and they all age. Even steel that rusts becomes a part of the exterior texture. The weathered picket fences and clapboard walls of the Hamptons are also good examples.

Do you get questioned about any disadvantages or safety issues rough texture may cause when put in driveways, ramps or footpaths, or maintenance issues due to air pollution? It can be dust collectors in a tropical country.

Always! I always have one answer for that, during light moments in our discussions. When they ask me, “Anthony, isn’t this wall or driveway hard to clean if it’s too rough?” And, I ask them back, “You have so many household staff. Are you the one who’s going to clean it?” And they laugh about it and that’s the end of it. It only needs to be cleaned a few times a year.

If you go to the Barcelona Pavillion, you’ll see a lot of Romana travertine which I love. My clients ask me, “Can I have our Romana travertine filled?” And I say, No, the beauty is in the texture and the depth of those crevices. You can stick your whole finger in it, that’s how deep the holes are. A work as important as this in the world of architecture, can you imagine the holes being filled? It’s been there for ages, since 1929! It’s still as beautiful as the first time I saw it in architecture school.

For me, as material becomes important, especially in my architecture, research is key as different weather affects different textures. The effect of micro-climates in a gated community in Makati is different from that on a mountainside home. Some materials can crack or accumulate mould depending on the weather, so we must apply a particular sealant sometimes. So, from a designer’s standpoint, we are still learning how to address some of these issues.

How important is visual texture on the exterior of your work?

When I was working in New York, we had this project up in the Hamptons. I fell asleep on the way there and even with my eyes closed, I knew we had arrived when we heard the crushing of the gravel on the car. Just by the transition of ground texture, the house has announced itself and you were there. It is an example of how texture can be sensory and experiential, and I always try to apply this to my work.