Peter Zumthor is undoubtedly one of the world’s leading architects, having been awarded the Pritzker Architecture Prize in 2009. But despite the admiration of his peers, Zumthor, 75, is hardly a household name. This may be because his work often reflects his quiet, considered nature. His designs, including museums, memorials, pavilions, and a spa-hotel in his native Switzerland—the 1996 Therme Vals—are contemplative rather than brash. Most recently, Zumthor ventured to England for his first permanent project in the country: a holiday rental in Devon called Secular Retreat, part of a series of ultra-high-design getaways commissioned by Living Architecture.

The low concrete structure exudes the same quiet permanence that Zumthor instills in all his architecture. His buildings are standalone markers in time and space, often concealing the breadth of his knowledge of craft. This extends from his studio’s major projects—expansions of the Fondation Beyeler in Basel, Switzerland, and the Los Angeles County Museum of Art are both in the works—to the comparatively modest scale of the home in Devon. For Zumthor, who trained as a carpenter before moving into design, the handmade details are every bit as important as the complete building.

You’re known as someone who likes to work slowly . . .

Buildings have their own time. Sometimes the right form presents itself earlier and other times it takes more time. I don’t build projects that don’t feature a mature idea. This process cannot be rushed. I can put pressure on myself, but it won’t work. It’s an artistic temperament. My work could be called authorship architecture. The building is not a type, but a unique piece. A piece of architectural art, maybe.

What is your earliest memory of being aware of architecture?

It may be the Ronchamp Chapel by Le Corbusier. The chapel has spirit and a good sense for materials and for space, for things coming together and shadow and light. It’s very connected to the materials he was working with, like a sculptor. He was a good thinker, but basically a sensual person.

It’s been 10 years since the Pritzker Prize. Has that changed things for you?

Maybe it has helped me to become calmer, something like that. When I was starting out, there was this idea that an architect has to fight, especially in Switzerland and Germany. This has changed completely for me. It’s not like that for me anymore. And in this, maybe the Pritzker helps me to get good clients. But the quality was always visible for those who wanted to see it.

How do you decide whether to say yes or no to a commission?

The task has to make sense and the intervention at the place has to make sense. I have to see the place and the task together and see that it could make sense to do something. It must be something more of social relevance than of individual glory.

Do personal relationships play a part?

Sure. You never know at the beginning, but there should be the potential that you and the client could end up as friends.

Your most recent work is called the Secular Retreat, yet your buildings often have a contemplative, almost divine nature. Did you have spirituality in mind when you designed this project?

No, not spiritual—but sometimes you want to go somewhere that’s the opposite of the city, right? The city is great, but to be here, in the landscape? It’s fantastic. It should be a nice place to relax for a group of people for talking or writing or whatever.

How did the location and landscape influence the design of this house?

[The house in Devon] is not slick. It’s down to earth. You can see that people from this area helped make this building. You can feel it. There’s a whole tradition of exposed concrete buildings in modernist architecture, which I like, but there’s more to this project in terms of sensuality. [You can see] it in the glorious floor. The stone is from Somerset.

What part does emotion play?

It’s all about emotion. The spaces have to feel right, the relationship between nature, landscape, and site has to feel right. It has to feel right in terms of the use of the house, if it works well.

You’re known for having strong opinions.

Yeah, we should always be honest, and talk in an open way about our agendas and things and try to find a way. . . . But it has to be an open, honest relationship where the client is also interested in the product. If they’re only interested in the name or something else, it doesn’t work.

And what do you do when not working?

I’m always working a little bit when I’m not working. Not working is maybe when I work the most. As you can see, I love my work.