Mies van der Rohe
The master of modernist architecture
So—Mies van der Rohe. I’ve got a lot of love for him. He’s kind of a legend in the design world, right? Like, if you’ve ever been into minimal interiors or those super sleek glass buildings that feel calm and powerful at the same time—that’s basically him. He’s the guy who coined “less is more,” and honestly, he lived it. His stuff is simple, but not boring. Clean, but not cold. Okay, maybe sometimes a little cold, but in a chic way.
His philosophy of
less is more
continues to influence architects and designers worldwide.
What I really like about Mies is that he wasn’t trying to impress anyone with trends or flashy stuff. He cared about space, proportion, balance. The architecture kind of just breathes. Everything he did feels really intentional, like he stripped things down to their essence and somehow made that enough. And that’s hard. Like, minimalism done well takes serious skill.
Life & Career
No boring history lecture, just the good stuff
Mies van der Rohe was born in 1886, in Germany. His birth name? Ludwig Mies, although later he acquired the “van der Rohe” to be a little more, you know… established-sounding. So on-brand, actually. Fancy architecture school, he did not attend—he started out working alongside his father, a stone mason. So right from the beginning, he really knew a lot about material and craftsmanship, rather than theory.
At the tender age of 20, he started working for the big guns like Peter Behrens, the godfather of German modern architecture of sorts. That’s where Mies started soaking up modernist ideas. Fast-forward to the 1920s and he was one of the stars of the Bauhaus movement, which was basically the hub of modern design in Europe. Clean lines, utilitarian shapes, form follows function—all that hipster stuff.
He actually wound up being the last director of the Bauhaus before the Nazis shut it down in 1933. All that part of history was grimy and ugly. The Nazis didn’t like modernism—they thought it was “un-German” or whatever. So Mies bounced. He fled Germany and came to the U.S. in 1938.
After he arrived in Chicago, everything was different. He became the director of architecture at the Illinois Institute of Technology (IIT), and that’s where his American career really launched. He designed some absolutely iconic buildings, such as the Farnsworth House (that stunning glass box in the woods), the Seagram Building in New York (hello, corporate modernism), and tons of others that helped shape the modern city skyline.
His whole look—steel, glass, low profile—was the model for the modern skyscraper. But he wasn’t all about construction. His furniture, like the Barcelona Chair, the Brno Chair, and the MR Chair, still feel totally current. And that’s insane, because they were designed almost a century ago.
He passed away in 1969, yet his impact? Still everywhere. You pass through a modern office building with glass on the outside, or scroll through a sleek interior on Instagram, and there’s Mies—whether or not others realize it.
So yes, his life is kind of legendary. From the son of a German stonemason to the greatest architect of all time. No padding, pure design heritage.
Furniture
His furniture? Still iconic. The Barcelona Chair? Ugh. I’ve seen it in so many different spaces—modern lofts, classic homes, even commercial offices—and it always works. It’s got that timeless energy that makes a room feel elevated without trying too hard.
Now, would I want to live in a full Mies-style house? Maybe not. I’d need to throw in some cozy textures, warm lighting, maybe a plant or seven. His pure aesthetic can feel a little too perfect if you don’t balance it out. But as a foundation? Incredible. Honestly, you could build an entire home or room around one of his pieces and it would already feel put together.
Barcelona Chair (1929)
Designed with: Lilly Reich (his longtime collaborator—let’s give her the credit she deserves).
For: The German Pavilion at the 1929 International Exposition in Barcelona.
This chair? Total icon. Sculptural, but functional. The polished stainless steel frame has this continuous curve—no breaks, no joints. Just smooth. And the leather cushions are hand-stitched and button-tufted, so it feels elevated but never fussy.
The vibe: It’s like sitting on a throne, but make it modern. It was literally designed for Spanish royalty, which tracks. It looks amazing in open, airy rooms with lots of natural light. It does not need a lot around it—let it breathe.
Pro tip: It’s surprisingly comfy, but not for slouching. It makes you sit tall.
2. Brno Chair (1930)
Also with: Lilly Reich
Originally for: Tugendhat House in Brno, Czech Republic
Super clean. Super modern. The Brno Chair comes in two styles—tubular steel or flat bar—and both are so chic it hurts. The frame cantilevers, which means the seat kind of floats. That makes it look light and effortless, but it’s also sturdy.
Where it shines: Around a dining table or as an office guest chair. It’s elegant but practical.
What I love: The way the arms are just part of the frame. No extra pieces. Just one seamless design. So satisfying.
3. MR Chair (1927)
Part of the Bauhaus vibe, big time.
Inspired by Marcel Breuer’s earlier experiments with tubular steel, but Mies softened it. Less industrial, more refined. The MR Chair has that dreamy cantilever form that makes it look like it’s floating midair. Usually has leather straps or a sling seat.
Mood: Modernist beach house or chic reading nook. It gives “cool professor who owns too many art books.”
4. Tugendhat Chair (1929–30)
Designed specifically for the Tugendhat House
This one’s a little more niche, but it’s got serious design cred. Very similar to the Barcelona Chair, but it uses a flat steel bar for the base and feels a bit chunkier. It’s got this grounded, sculptural energy.
Best for: A bold, curated space. Think: art collector energy.
5. Barcelona Stool + Daybed
Same family as the Barcelona Chair
They all match, and they all slap. The daybed especially—it’s this long, low piece that feels very spa-meets-gallery. You could throw it in an entryway, a bedroom, or under a huge window and it instantly elevates everything.
Unique Aspects of Mies van der Rohe’s Life
Despite his public persona as a master architect, Mies van der Rohe’s private life was filled with complexities. He was known for his meticulous attention to detail and his relentless pursuit of perfection, traits that sometimes made him a demanding figure to work with. However, this dedication to his craft also led to some of his most enduring works.
God is in the details
One unique aspect of Mies’s life was his close collaboration with Lilly Reich, a designer who worked with him on several key projects, including the Barcelona Pavilion. Their professional and personal relationship was deeply influential in shaping Mies’s approach to both architecture and furniture design.
Another intriguing fact about Mies van der Rohe is that he never received formal architectural training. His success was built on his natural talent, his early experiences in his father’s stone-cutting business, and his time working with influential figures like Peter Behrens. This lack of formal education did not hinder him; instead, it allowed him to develop a unique vision that set him apart from his contemporaries.
Mies also had a complex relationship with the political climate of his time. As the last director of the Bauhaus, he faced immense pressure from the Nazi regime, which ultimately led to the school’s closure in 1933. This experience, coupled with the rising political tensions in Germany, prompted Mies to emigrate to the United States, where he continued his work and left a lasting impact on American architecture.
I don’t want to be interesting. I want to be good.
All inntury, the lessons of Mies van der Rohe remain as relevant as ever.
This post may contain affiliate links, meaning I earn a small commission if you purchase through these links, at no additional cost to you. I only recommend products I genuinely love and think you’ll love too. Your support helps keep this blog running—thank you!