Design in the Raw: Sophie Pearce of Béton Brut

There’s a quiet power to the pieces at Béton Brut — a kind of sculptural restraint that draws you in. Founded by design dealer Sophie Pearce, the London-based gallery has become a destination for those in search of rare, design-led furniture from Europe and Japan. The collection, which spans more than a century of design history, is guided by a singular aesthetic — minimal, material-led, and unafraid of the unconventional.

With roots in modernist principles and a name that nods to the raw concrete surfaces of Brutalist architecture, Béton Brut is about more than furniture — it’s about form, feeling, and the stories objects carry. Since launching in 2013, Pearce has cultivated a vision that blurs the boundaries between collectible design and functional art. Alongside vintage pieces by the likes of Kazuhide Takahama and Shiro Kuramata, she champions contemporary makers who share the gallery’s ethos of honesty, rigour, and restraint.

The gallery’s ethos found a complementary expression in a recent collaboration — pairing the iconic Grand collection with Béton Brut’s sculptural pieces. The soft, sun-warmed tone of Butter, quiet depth of Warm Gray — along with the new curved silhouettes of the Grand Round rugs found a home at the gallery forming a dialogue between texture and form.

We caught up with Pearce to talk about the gallery’s origins, the artists and ideas inspiring her right now, and what it means to create a home that’s both a refuge and a place for transformation.

Tell us a little more about Béton Brut, how did it all start?

Béton Brut gallery presents selected furniture from Europe and Japan, from over a century of design, where function and form cohere.

It all began with one 1950s sofa I researched and sold in my early twenties. With the proceeds, I hired a van, drove to an antiques market, bought ten pieces to furnish my new home and launched an online shop to sell on the items that didn’t fit. Two months later, I quit my job, driven by passion and zero plan.

When later I co-founded Béton Brut, my aim was to cultivate a singular aesthetic — something more common in the fashion world but less seen in the antiques trade. Like auteurship in film, it was about creating a unified vision. Such that when my taste would move through different genres and eras, the collection would remain recognisably ‘Béton Brut.’

Describe your style in three words…

Minimal. Sculptural. Material.

Tell us about a current exhibition you’re working on, or a forthcoming exhibition we should know about?

For London Craft Week (14–17 May 2025), Béton Brut is showing Forge to Fold at 9 Cork Street, Mayfair. At its centre is a collection of ironwork mirrors by the late artist Salvino Marsura, whose estate we now represent. In dialogue will be work by David Horan, Archive for Space, and Grace Prince — each contemporary designers exploring the trace of the hand across metal, paper and wood.

What inspires you?

I’m most inspired when I follow my nose and let my taste evolve. Lately, I’m hovering in a Venn diagram of Rationalism, Art Deco and Japanese-European design. You see it across the gallery — from works by Kazuhide Takahama (1930-2010) and Shiro Kuramata (1934-1991) to contemporary pieces like David Horan’s Paper lounge chair, which draws on heritage Japanese papers or Grace Prince’s ‘Held Absence’ collection, conceived in residence in Kyoto. I’m drawn to the quiet rigour of rationalist or square profile Art Deco forms: the boxy wrapped volumes of Pagano and Montalcini, Jean Michel Frank and Zalszupin’s Cubo seating.

What is a must have at the gallery?

The out-of-production Easy Edges cardboard dining table and chairs by Frank Gehry represent much of what Béton Brut stands for—honest materials, rational forms and architectural presence.

Gehry’s interest in found and everyday materials likely stemmed from a childhood spent making cities out of scrap wood with his grandmother. The dining table in corrugated, pressed cardboard exemplifies Gehry’s design principles: elementary yet distinctive, proportionate yet playful in its utilitarianism, while remaining strong and durable.

What does ‘home’ mean to you?

Home for me is both permanence and change. The furniture shifts. But I find my footing there. It’s a stable base. Grounded in calm, in the familiar. But it’s a place where I can grow.

A place that means a lot to you?

The Jurassic Coast — where I grew up. At the mouth of Poole Harbour, there's a wild headland called Studland. A short transect takes you across white sands, dunes, heather, marsh, woodland, rolling hills, and chalk cliffs. It’s very special. The sound of waves lapping – susurration, is like white noise to a sleeping child.

Your most treasured object, artwork or design piece?

It has to be the Teli pendant by Achille and Pier Giacomo Castiglioni, 1970s. It’s just so unexpected. How a light, emanating from a Raflon shopping bag, can become one of the most beautiful light sources this side of the moon! The drapery is perfect: metal rods weigh the folds of fabric into a graceful geometry — a rectangular form, an inner triangle. The way the light filters through the semi-translucent material perhaps rivals the effect of Noguchi paper lanterns.

An artist’s work you would collect if you could?

If I could collect the work of Xavier Corbero, I’d die happy. His house Espai Corberó is a living sculpture — a whole work of art. It appeals to both a rational, minimal aesthetic whilst injecting chance, the surreal, the sublime. Every time I watch Residence: Xavier Corbero the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

Lastly, your favourite Nordic Knots rug and why?

Besides Grand – Butter, which is just the perfect tone – I want to eat it. I would go for Gild 01 – Frame. If I were commissioning a custom version of this for my living room, it would be square, accented with silver thread; the epitome of Swedish Grace refinement.

Photographed by Jasper Fry, London, 2025.