Paul Clayton and Brian Korte are American architects and principals at Clayton Korte, an architecture and interiors firm based in Austin and San Antonio, Texas. Known for its contextually sensitive design and deep material sensibility, Clayton Korte has gained national acclaim for work that seamlessly integrates built form with the surrounding landscape. The practice’s expertise spans adaptive reuse, ranches, wineries, and residential projects—each grounded in a regionalist ethos that prioritizes site, craft, and environmental responsiveness.
Paul Clayton expanded the firm’s direction after acquiring Emily Little Architects in 2005, growing it into a multidisciplinary studio of over 30 professionals. Brian Korte, who joined the firm in 2015 following a 17-year tenure at Lake|Flato Architects, has brought a distinct focus on rural and vineyard architecture. Their projects, such as the Saxum Vineyard Equipment Barn and the Hill Country Wine Cave, have earned AIA National Small Project Awards, cementing Clayton Korte’s reputation as a leading voice in contemporary American architecture.
What inspires you?
Brian
We are continually influenced by the beauty of our natural environment. The landscapes that surround much of our work are incredibly inspiring and essential to our design process. We are thoughtful about the presence and movement of light and shadow, and always motivated by how natural materials like wood, stone, and concrete interact with one another in artful ways. Our task is to create elevated human experiences within the natural environment that help to improve people’s daily lives.
Paul
What inspires me most is the intersection of landscape and structure—how buildings can grow out of the ground as if they belong there, shaped by the sun, the breeze, and the peculiarities of place. Austin, with its limestone cliffs, live oaks, and ever-changing skyline, has always taught me that architecture isn’t just about form or function—it’s about the feeling of the place, its context.
I’m driven by the quiet power of restraint. There’s something beautiful about editing down to the essentials—letting material, light, and proportion do the heavy lifting. I’m drawn to work that balances rugged honesty with moments of delicacy. Something tactile. Something human.
I take a lot of inspiration from craftsmen—stone masons, steelworkers, carpenters—people who shape the bones of a building with their hands. When their work is integrated from the very beginning, it tells the story of a building’s creation.
I’m also inspired by my clients—their stories, their ambitions, the way they live. Good architecture starts with listening. My job is to translate their needs into space and create places that reflect their values and bring them joy.
What inspired you to become an architect?
Brian
I grew up with a mom who taught ceramics, a dad who was always building cabinets or tinkering on our houses when he had free time, and four older brothers who were adept at building hyper-realistic, small-scale models and, as they got older, restoring classic cars. My family members were always working with their hands, and daily life was filled with the art of craft. Combining that embedded appreciation for craft with a love of artistic expression and enjoyment for drawing and making ultimately led to my interest in pursuing architecture.
Paul
I didn’t grow up knowing I wanted to be an architect. What I did know was that I loved building things—treehouses, forts, models—and I was endlessly curious about how spaces made people feel. My father was a mechanic, and I grew up helping him in the garage. Watching him work, I learned to respect materials, to see beauty in precision, and to take pride in craftsmanship. He taught me to think through assemblies of parts from an early age.
I chose architecture because it allows me to bridge the practical and the poetic. I love that I get to create things that are grounded in reality—things people live and work in—but that also have the potential to move people, to connect them, to inspire them.
How would you describe your design philosophy?
Brian
Generally speaking, at Clayton Korte, we feel that architecture should accomplish two fundamental things: The work should celebrate the human experience, and it must partner with the greater landscape—quite often it should take a side-step so the natural environment can be the “star of the show”. We feel that this is really important in vineyard projects so that visitors are rarely separated from nature.
As a firm, we’re committed to excellent design and creating spaces that set the stage for remarkable experiences. Our projects are diverse in style, type, and geography, but we believe an independent, gracious spirit animates them all.
Whether designing a California winery that is set amid the rolling green and blonde hills overlooking the Pacific Ocean, or a project nestled into the limestone cliffs of the Texas Hill Country, our buildings inherently connect to and celebrate the land and foster the desired lifestyle of our clients. No matter their setting, we seek to design elegant, purposeful spaces that facilitate and showcase the values of our clients.
Paul
We believe architecture should feel inevitable—like it couldn’t belong anywhere else, or be made of anything else. That begins with listening: to the land, to the client and community, to the climate, to context. We try to let each project reveal itself through a process of subtraction—stripping away what’s unnecessary until the essential elements are clear. I’m drawn to natural materials, daylight, and a strong connection between indoor and outdoor space. Not just because they’re beautiful, but because they age well, and they foster a kind of quiet dignity over time.
Every line should have a reason. Every detail should serve a purpose. That doesn’t mean buildings have to be minimal or cold—far from it. But they should be thoughtful. Grounded. They should carry the fingerprint of the people who built them and the people who live in them. I’m not interested in chasing trends or spectacle. I’m interested in crafting spaces that endure—spaces that feel timeless, rooted, and alive.
What is your favorite project?
Brian
We love all our projects, with each having its opportunities, obstacles, and lasting memories. The ones that are currently on the boards or under construction now tend to feel somewhat like favorites because they have our focus in the moment.
A couple of recent projects that have turned out wonderfully include the Hill Country Wine Cave and the Saxum Vineyard Equipment Barn. Both projects speak to the ethos of the firm to create spaces that feel like they couldn’t be anywhere else.
Paul
Also, Kingsbury Commons at Pease Park in Austin. We played a supporting role to the landscape architect, but I’m really proud of how the buildings recede and allow the park to be the star.
What is your favorite architectural detail?
Brian
I have been known to enjoy custom half pipe steel gutters on several agricultural projects. The Saxum Vineyard Equipment Barn has a great example of this gutter detail in action, splitting an 8-inch dia Schedule 40 pipe with tapered ends for overflow.
Paul
I’m a sucker for a dramatic skylight.
Do you have a favorite material?
Brian
I do have an affinity for the beauty of natural hardwoods, like black walnut or European white oak. I enjoy seeing how they become richer with workmanship and sincere care in how they are handled. Some of the old-growth reclaimed redwood that we repurposed on our California projects has the most gorgeous grain patterns that I’ve ever experienced. They come alive with even a simple oil finish.
There is a depth and elegance to the natural black finish in architectural steel that I am also quite attracted to.
We curate materials with intention for their beauty as much as their practicality, and for their utility as much as their resilience. My favorite aspect of materiality is how distinct materials are crafted and how they are detailed to interact with one another. To quote our friend Canan Yetmen, “craft, after all, is the soul of architecture. It is the touch of the hand, the unshakable human quality that adds charisma to a project and enriches Clayton Korte’s work”. George Nakashima described craft as taking pride “not only in the act of producing a better product, but in the sheer joy of doing or becoming”. These ideas are extremely important to us and an aspect of our work we are continually working to refine.
Paul
If I had to choose just one material, it would be cast-in-place concrete.
There’s something deeply honest about it. It’s raw, structural, and unapologetically permanent—but also incredibly versatile. Done well, it can be refined and quiet, even poetic. I love that it captures time: the grain of the formwork, the slight imperfections, the weathering over the years. It tells a story.
In the Texas heat, concrete performs beautifully, absorbing and releasing heat in a way that adds real value beyond aesthetics. And when paired with wood, steel, or natural stone, it becomes part of a conversation between materials. That contrast—soft against hard, smooth against textured—is where a lot of architectural magic lives.
I also appreciate the collaborative nature of working with concrete. You have to design with intention, coordinate closely with builders, and trust the process. There’s a discipline to it that demands precision, but when it’s done right, the result is elemental and powerful.
What is your process for starting a new project?
Brian
We start every project by thoroughly understanding the unique context of the site and the aspirations of our clients. With this foundation, we work closely with our clients and project partners to explore as many ideas as possible. Each project is a collaborative effort, shaped by the contributions of many voices and perspectives.
Paul
Starting a new project always begins with listening. Before ever putting pen to paper, we spend time understanding the people, the place, and the purpose. That means sitting with the client, not just to hear what they want, but to understand how they live, how they think, what they value. We look for the unspoken clues just as much as the stated goals.
How do you balance function and creativity in your designs?
Brian
We reject the idea that function and creativity are separate or sequential. To us, they are inherently interconnected and mutually reinforcing.
Paul
Agreed, we don’t see function and creativity as opposing forces—they sharpen each other. Function gives creativity its direction. A well-designed space solves real problems while offering something unexpected, something that elevates the experience.
For me, the most creative solutions often come because of constraints—budget, site, code, and climate. These boundaries force invention. I like to work within those lines, then ask: How can we do this better? Smarter? More beautifully?
It’s about clarity and purpose. When a design is both useful and poetic, that’s when it lasts.
How does the environment influence your work?
Brian
The environment informs the basis of our design process, whether it is the natural environment or an urban context. Studying local climate, geology, history, and local building traditions arms us with the necessary data to begin to think creatively. Nature in itself, including light, shadows, and the passage of time, is very inspirational and responsible for shaping our work. We are fortunate to work on some incredibly beautiful sites around the world. Imagining thoughtful structures that quietly emerge from within the natural landscape brings with it the challenge of making sure that we do not screw it up.
We often set goals and metrics for a project with the client and the entire project team to ensure everyone is on the same page. We create a forum for design discussion and maintain design reviews and critiques with all parties involved.
Paul
It’s not just context—it’s a force that informs how we place, shape, and detail a building. That means responding to intense sun, seasonal winds, and a rugged natural landscape. We design to work with those conditions—orienting for shade, pulling in natural ventilation, and using materials that belong to the region.
But it goes deeper than performance. The environment also inspires the emotional tone of our work—the way a space feels when sunlight cuts across a concrete wall, or how a porch frames a view of the hills. Those moments connect people to place.
Ultimately, we strive to create buildings that are rooted, both environmentally and culturally. When we let the land lead, the architecture feels inevitable.
How do you collaborate with clients to achieve their vision?
Brian
Initially, we look for an alignment of values and goals with our clients. We seek to ensure that design aspirations, expectations, and timeframes can be met across disciplines of architecture, interiors, and landscape architecture on every project. We look for clients who are passionate about their particular property and value and respect what we bring to the table as architects and designers. We very much look for a partnership with clients and want the process to be meaningful, but also fun.
A successful project can take many forms. Ultimately, the success of a completed project results in well-considered spaces that satisfy our clients’ needs and improve their lives. It is also wonderful to have repeat clients. We have many clients with whom we have collaborated on four or five projects during the last two decades; they are really important relationships for us. Having a project recognized with awards for design excellence or featured in special publications is always icing on the cake.
Our design process requires client participation. Our clients are our thought partners. The process is inherently collaborative. We engage clients early to explore a variety of curated inspiration imagery and words, allowing our team to understand what resonates with the client. This information, as well as feedback about what isn’t aligning with client goals, is extremely informative for our design team and our collaborators. The process then flows into design options, which collectively mine the best solution for the project.
Paul
Our role isn’t to impose a vision—it’s to uncover one. That means asking the right questions, being fully present, and understanding not just what the client says they want, but why they want it.
Early in the process, we talk less about style and more about how they live, what inspires them, and what problems we’re solving. From there, I translate those insights into ideas—sketches, diagrams, mood studies—and bring them into the conversation early. We want clients to feel ownership from the beginning. It’s a back-and-forth. I bring design experience and clarity; they bring lived experience and values. The best projects happen when there’s mutual trust, openness, and a shared commitment to doing it right, not just fast.
In the end, we want the client to walk into the finished space and feel: this is exactly what I hoped for—even better than I imagined.
What inspired the Fulldraw Winery?
The design of Fulldraw Winery is driven by the land—its topography, light, and breeze. We integrated open-air fermentation spaces and night cooling strategies to reduce mechanical reliance and enhance comfort. Sustainability here isn’t an add-on; it’s embedded in how the building breathes and performs.
Located in the heart of the California Central Coast wine country’s Templeton Gap, the winery sits sentry to 100 acres of established vineyards. The first phase included a Fermentation Building with a covered Crush Pad, administrative and employee spaces, and a Barrel Aging and Case Goods Storage Building totaling roughly 12,000 square feet. The second phase will bring to the campus a new Tasting Room with private administration space that sits to the north of the winery and completes the hospitality experience.
We approached the material palette with a desire for authenticity—using weathered steel, burnished concrete masonry, and fiber cement to echo the rugged beauty of the vineyard landscape. These materials are not only durable, but they also reflect the honesty and character of the place.
Indoors and out, the facility provides a direct connection to the surrounding scenic landscape, as each building overlooks the vineyard and the surrounding agrarian landscape. The two new structures are situated parallel to one another and shifted slightly in opposite directions to provide each with access to views and daylight. The use of simple forms along with honest materials and textures helps break down the scale of the buildings to fit within their context, providing a great example of our design ethos in action.
How did materiality shape the design and sustainability of the Saxum Vineyard Equipment Barn?
This simple agricultural storage structure rests at the edge of the 50-acre James Berry Vineyard and the adjacent Saxum Winery in Paso Robles. The barn blends into its surroundings, and while it appears to only lightly touch the ground, its design strength lies in its resilience. The minimalist, regionally available materials withstand the dry climate and reduce the need for maintenance. The design utilizes the local climate to harness cross ventilation, daylight, and solar energy. The steel-pipe structure holds the photovoltaic roof system, ensuring the building is completely self-sufficient and operates independently from the energy grid, ensuring its survivability.
Materials for a barn need to be practical, robust, and not too precious, while also bringing their own authenticity and simple elegance to a structure. They are honest and perform the dual task of serving both structural requirements and architectural finishes in many cases. The simplicity of the weathered steel is the perfect complement to the surrounding vineyards and oak-filled hillsides.
The deep, perforated corrugations in the Western Rib panels on each long side of the barn not only provide long spanning capabilities between structural elements and an ability to cantilever beyond them, but they also give the barn a beautiful textural scale and add a play with light, transparency, and shadow as the sun moves across the building.
What advice would you give to young architects?
Brian
The biggest challenge that I see young architects dealing with—one that they cannot possibly expect coming out of a design school and jumping into an active office environment—is that projects are most often non-linear. They start and stop quite often, and the environment of design can be unpredictable, particularly in today’s variable and uncertain economic conditions. Being mentally prepared for this non-linear project flow will help curb frustrations after working long hours toward deadlines and then having to wait while things go on hold. Learning how to take advantage of the time in between is what is valuable, so young architects should be ready, keep learning, and keep taking chances. Another valuable skill to develop early in your career is being malleable.
Adapting and growing as firms evolve and continually looking for opportunities are good skills to learn as a young architect. It takes talent, but it also requires a great deal of emotional intelligence and an understanding of the business side of a design firm to be an effective architect.
Paul
Architecture takes time—time to learn, to grow, to build judgment. Don’t rush that. Master the fundamentals. Learn how buildings go together. Spend time in the field, ask questions on job sites, and listen to the trades. That’s where the real education happens.
At the same time, protect your curiosity. Travel, read broadly, study art and history, and sketch constantly. The best architects draw from the world, not just architecture.
Be humble, but don’t shrink your voice. Bring ideas to the table, even if they’re not fully formed. The profession needs new energy, new ways of seeing.
And maybe most important: choose integrity over ego. Do the work with care. Take responsibility. Stand by your values, even when it’s hard. That’s what earns trust—and over time, that’s what builds a meaningful career.
