Bill Amberg
Architect of Leather

Maison Ë You grew up in Northampton, a town steeped in shoemaking tradition and home to well-known names like Church Footwear. Do you feel you were somehow predisposed—or even predestined—to work with leather?

Bill Amberg It was more of a happy accident, I would say. I wasn’t academic, but my parents encouraged me to design and make things, and that trust was fundamental. My mother was an architect—she’d worked for Alvar Aalto in Finland—and my father, a passionate maker, worked for a lift and escalator business. At home—between my parents and my grandfather—we had two workshops, so something was always being built. Leather simply happened to be the material at hand in Northampton—it was everywhere back then. As a boy on school holidays, I’d wander the markets for scraps to experiment with.

M.Ë How did you come to master the craft—to understand leather not merely as a material, but as a living language?

B.A. After school, it was clear I wasn’t going to university, so I travelled through Australia and New Zealand, working for different leather craftspeople along the way. I could do the basics, but lacked the discipline to fully explore the material. In Adelaide, my cousin introduced me to a skilled leatherworker at the Jam Factory—a multidisciplinary studio home to ceramicists, wood turners, and weavers. I spent a year there, learning traditional techniques and developing a love for leather. My mentor would always encourage me to experiment—dyeing, molding, making jewelry and small sculptures—and that freedom made me truly fascinated by craft.

M.Ë At what point did you realize this could become a true career?

B.A. When I came back to England in 1983, I set up a small studio in South East London and started making bags—the most sensible way to earn money. By chance, Paul Smith liked my work, and soon I was making bags for him, Liberty, and JOSEPH. Over the next 10 years as brands developed in-house accessory teams, I focused on my own exports, mainly to Japan. At the same time, I began receiving small commissions for floors, handrails, and other interior elements, which quietly grew into a parallel architecture practice alongside my accessories work.

M.Ë You started by making bags for Paul Smith, Liberty, and JOSEPH, but soon found yourself creating tables with designer Ron Arad. What do you think leather brings to interiors and architecture that no other material can?

B.A. Historically, leatherworking includes bookbinding, saddlery, shoemaking, casemaking, and upholstery—each with its own culture, techniques, and materials. I became interested in reimagining these in different spaces, which is what I still do now: taking something from bookbinding and extrapolating it to an architectural scale, or something from saddlery into upholstery—and doing the same with the materials. Leather is incredibly versatile.

M.Ë Your projects range from the Maltese Falcon superyacht to Claridge’s leather-clad Fumoir bar, the lecture theatre seating at the Royal Academy of Arts, and the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee Galleries at Westminster Abbey. How do you leave your own distinctive imprint on such a diverse array of commissions?

B.A. Each project comes from a different place—a person, a brand, a vision—and understanding the position is essential. It influences everything. Still, I do have a style: simple, pared back, material-focused, and highly crafted. That’s the common thread through all that we do. We’re experts at stitching and molding, and over the years we’ve worked with so many substrates—carving, casting, shaping them—that these techniques have become second nature. It means that any idea, however complex, can be realized.

M.Ë Your atelier is the realm of bespoke creations—objects that exist not in shops, but in the dreams of their clients. How is it organized?

B.A. When I was working extensively in Japan, one of my design heroes was Sōri Yanagi. He had a studio, but also a workshop where prototypes were developed directly on the bench as much as on paper. From then on, I became deeply focused on this idea of “designing through making.” Our designers and craftspeople work side by side, and are cross-trained in every technique—stitching, molding, dyeing, gilding, embossing. Ideas evolve through making, remaking, and refining—and it’s in that process that detail emerges and something truly beautiful takes shape.

M.Ë Over the years, you’ve explored many ways to use leather. Where would you most recommend using it today?

B.A. When we first started making floors in leather in the 1980s, few had seen them for decades. They suddenly became very popular and people started to use inappropriate material for flooring. Now, clients return asking for the right kind of finish. Today, we create rugs, carpets, and tiled floors—each with materials we trust. We also upholster walls in cinemas, which brings warmth and excellent acoustics. I always guide people toward intimate spaces—a study, a desk, a quiet place to think—where leather truly comes into its own.

M.Ë As a master craftsman and designer who has worked alongside architects such as David Chipperfield, Norman Foster, and Renzo Piano, how do you collaborate to reveal the full expressive potential of leather—transforming it from a material into a vital element of an architectural vision?

B.A. Architects often want to use leather, but don’t know enough about the material to predict what it can do. That’s where our expertise is exciting. People come to us for the elegance of the material and the refinement of the techniques; they want something pure and crafted. The materials that we use are very nuanced—they are dyed, not pigmented. I always say that one of the key elements in choosing leather is the touch, because the tanner can make it silky, bold, waxy, robust, or sexy. So many finishes can be put into the process that completely change leather’s character. That’s how you get the intimacy from the material, something really hard to find in any other textile.

M.Ë The world of leather has distinct regions and traditions, much like wine across the world. During your explorations, what qualities or discoveries have particularly struck you, and what would you choose to bring back from each region?

B.A. Leather is an ancient material—Neolithic man discovered vegetable tanning thousands of years ago. I also value that it’s a by-product of the food industry, which makes it highly regional. Tanners gained expertise according to local diets: in France, veal made them masters of calf leather; in southern Spain and south-west France, sheep and lamb were predominant, and so on. I work with only a handful of specialist tanneries, each with closely guarded raw materials. Around 90% of what we source is vegetable-tanned, from France, Spain, Italy, Germany, and the UK—goat, calf, or lamb, depending on the task.

M.Ë Beyond traditional leather, are you exploring new forms, or leather-derived materials in your work?

B.A. We keep all of our waste material and don’t discard anything. We’ve created two new surface materials using our leather offcuts. One is called “Stack”—a beautiful material made by cutting leathers into strips and pressing them into a furniture surface. More recently, we’ve also imagined a leather terrazzo, and we are looking forward to seeing a piece realized with this material soon.

M.Ë Your iconic “Rocket Bag” is now part of the permanent collections at the Victoria and Albert Museum in London and the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York. Looking back, what was it like to see a piece of work enter a museum?

B.A. It’s very nice to have work recognized in such important institutions, but it’s not something for which I strive. I’m still fascinated by the next project. I don’t see my work as art—I’m a designer, a craftsman, a maker, and I have a passionate love for this particular material. I know I create unique, beautiful furniture, but calling it art? No.

M.Ë Do you think there is more consideration for craft today than in the past?

B.A. As you say, there’s much more interest in craft today than 25-30 years ago. People are interested in making in many fields, not just leatherwork, and I believe this will continue to grow. I’m very involved in projects to train young people and ensure opportunities are available. At the moment, I’m setting up a national leather skills program across England, aimed at those who might not excel in traditional school or academic paths, giving them the chance to pursue a career that isn’t behind a desk.