‘Everything starts from a glow’: Michael Anastassiades on sunsets and lightbulbs in Kyoto

Light filters softly into the stone entrance of an old Kyoto townhouse where Michael Anastassiades stands in front of his new creation: five thin glass tubes rise from a narrow wood base, their illuminated filaments forming a circle – just like the sun above the horizon.

'Light is the base of everything,' says Anastassiades, the Cypriot-born, London-based designer. 'Everything starts from a glow. It’s the first thing I think about before I make or design. It's always the starting point.'

This philosophy shapes 'From Warm Yellow to Saturated Red', Anastassiades’ exhibition at Taka Ishii Gallery Kyoto, where his new works – lighting, sculptural objects, seating – are harmonised with the stillness of a 150-year-old machiya, or townhouse.

Sunset – the fleeting intensity of its scattered light, the precision of its deepening shades – is the creative inspiration behind his first solo exhibition in Kyoto. Anastassiades’ objects glow quietly in a play of light and shadows inside the traditional interior – among tatami-lined spaces, paper screens, textured soil walls, high timber rafters, an old storehouse and courtyard gardens framing patches of sky.

Elemental, light and pared-back in form, his works balance precision with poetry, through a mix of cultural influences – Japanese bamboo, Greek island stones, Icelandic fishing knots, Egyptian stools, Cypriot textiles.

A key protagonist in the exhibition is his series of ‘Sunset’ lamps. The first, with a fully lit ‘sun’, is positioned in the stone entrance – and as the exhibition deepens inside the machiya, the 'sun' in each work is positioned a little lower, mirroring its descent into the horizon.

Dynamic vertical lights are also crafted from Japanese bamboo, knotted with linen thread used by Icelandic fishermen; alongside two triangular wood stools with clean curves and pointed edges; and hand-patinated bronze objects, from thorns to stones, laid on handwoven textiles by Cypriot artist Joanna Louca.

The exhibition marks something of a new creative chapter for Anastassiades, opening shortly after he announced plans to close his eponymous lighting brand after nearly 20 years, to focus more deeply on creative projects.

Here, Anastassiades shares his thoughts on sunsets and stones, fishermen’s knots and filters, while taking Wallpaper* on a private tour of his new exhibition.

Michael Anastassiades in Kyoto: interview

W*: Tell me about the sun.

MA: This exhibition is about a very specific time of day, when the sun is setting. Interesting, intense moments. I’ve made a series of sunset light pieces. This one at the entrance is a whole circle of lights – and as you progress through the gallery spaces, the light goes down to the middle of the horizon, like the sun setting. The lights are super-thin – maybe 4mm with a very, very fine LED. These are one-off pieces. To me, these objects are sketches. Drawings. Improvisations.

W*: Standing inside the machiya entrance, I can see a row of stones in a tatami space. Tell me about these.

MA: I’ve always been fascinated with natural stones. These are 25 bronze casts from my collection of stones, which I’ve collected since I was a teenager. I have a huge collection of stones. These are from the Greek island of Kefalonia. I collected them when I was 20 or 21, from a cove in a special bay. I revisited that bay 30 years later – I asked a fisherman to take me to this cove. There were probably 30 different coves, but we got there – and found more stones.

W*: Why stones – and why casts?

MA: These are not the found objects: it’s the whole idea of creating something. I’m fascinated with the role of nature as a designer. They look almost perfectly spherical, like eggs. They were found that way. It’s the idea that nature is able to create this perfect shape.

W*: What about this ‘Bamboo’ light upstairs?

MA: I used Japanese bamboo and black linen thread with a knotting technique used by Icelandic fishermen, holding the metal brackets. The bulbs are the only technological bit. For my brand, I have a lamp called ‘Take’, made of bamboo. It’s interesting to see the evolution here: the other one is very much an industrial product – but this has a handmade feel. The cables on the floor are part of the piece.

W*: What inspires the verticality in your work?

MA: It is part of the language that I’ve used for a very long time. I have been completely fascinated with linear sources of light, ever since the first pieces I made commercially – the ‘Tube’ chandelier. That was very much based on the incandescent bulb. Of course, many people used this in the past, especially the famous Eileen Gray [for her] floor lamp – I was fascinated with these bulbs for a long time. And then, as soon as I started using them, they stopped making them. About 15 years down the line, I decided to make my own bulbs – so I had these made specifically.

W*: There’s such a softness in the light.

MA: The temperature, the colour – everything about it is so carefully chosen. It is not a random piece. It is very much a warm light. The glow is so fundamental, as part of the design of the fixture. It can completely transform how something is perceived.

W*: Why lights – what’s the seed of your desire to express light?

MA: I think we’re all drawn to light in some way or another. I’ve been attracted to light for a very long time. It’s part of the human instinct. From very early civilisations, people worshipped glowing things – the sun, the moon, meteorites, fire. Why did I decide to focus on light? Because I decided I needed to focus on something when I started my brand. I found myself making more and more lights and then eventually working with companies, especially Flos.

W*: In this space, the lights feel almost sacred.

MA: They are meditative objects for sure. If you put things in a certain brightness, you have to be really sensitive with how you want things to be seen. In this context, the house, it had to be this way, it could not be different. Even the choice of materials and selections – it’s all designed around these intimate spaces.

W*: Tell me about the stools.

MA: They’re made from Oregon pine – it’s the first time I’ve used this material. I made three stools before with the same scale, using basalt, so they had a very different energy. I thought wood would be more suitable for this house.

W*: Such clean curves and points. Why this shape?

MA: I’m very much inspired by Egyptian stools, where the corners are elevated, although they’re normally square. This is triangular because I wanted to make a dialogue with the two bronze ‘Thorn’ pieces, on the walls. The stools are quite welcoming, even though they have a presence that says don’t sit.

W*: And another ‘Sunset’ lamp in an alcove?

MA: Here, the sun is almost disappearing – the time between the bottom of the sun touching the horizon and the sun disappearing. All these sunsets are familiar in a sense. We have all watched so many sunsets. Somehow, you can relate to them.

W*: Tell me about the bamboo light screen in the kura storehouse.

MA: To me, it is about filter. The sensation of when something catches your eye without necessarily looking at it directly – from the tip of your eye, you catch a movement. This is what these screens are for me. They are filtering this idea, this play of light, this linear thing that we pass through. This light is part of a series of two screens, designed for this space. It just fitted.

W*: Do you see the sun as a metaphor?

MA: To me, it’s not really a metaphor: it is something that no matter how many times you see it or experience it, every time is unique. Plus it is responsible for how we experience life, the way we experience light.

W*: Was the exhibition inspired by a particular sunset moment?

MA: Not one particular sunset. You know, when you work so much, it is so rare when you can catch the light, catch the sunset. In recent years, I’ve been going to a small Greek island between Rhodes and Cyprus. Now I’m building a house to spend more time there. It’s a place where I can pause. Every evening, we go on hikes up on the rocks on the mountain, not very high – there is one spot which is an incredible place to watch the sunset.

W*: And how about your relationship with Japan?

MA: The first time I came here was 1991. I was a student at the Royal College [of Art]. I didn’t want to come as a tourist so I applied for an internship and came here in the summer, to Tokyo, to work for Toshiba. I spent three months here – it was fascinating, a very different Japan. I next came back 25 years later, with Flos.

W*: Has Japan left an imprint in you creatively?

MA: As a creative, as an artist, when you commit to something, it completely changes the result in your approach to your creative process. That level of commitment – I don’t think you can experience it in any other country.

W*: How do you feel about the light in Japan? Particularly Kyoto, where light is often filtered by paper and nature.

MA: I’m shocked at how soft the light is here at the moment. The humidity makes the light softer at this time of year. The light in the summer in Cyprus flattens everything out. In the Greek islands, it’s the same. In London too, the sun is very different. Coming here suddenly – the way you experience the sun, the light, is different.

W*: And how do you feel about your show opening now in Kyoto?

MA: This is the longest time I’ve spent in Japan. This is an important time for me. I wouldn’t have chosen a different moment. In this context especially, this is perfect.

'From Warm Yellow to Saturated Red' by Michael Anastassiades, at Taka Ishii Gallery Kyoto, until 4 July 2026