How to build and sustain a design studio culture

The culture of any company is shaped by its founders, the team’s past experiences, and countless small details. How can this process unfold naturally—without feeling forced or turning into chaos? What shapes a company’s initial values? How can growth challenges be met without losing identity? And is it worth formalizing rules (practice) and values (theory), or does that risk turning them rigid?

The founders of several studios—with teams ranging from three to thirty-six people—shared what they embed in their companies’ DNA and how they keep them intact yet alive.

Speakers:

Leo Porto and Felipe Rocha from Porto Rocha, a strategy and design agency with offices in New York and London, and a team of 36 organized into four verticals. At their core, Porto Rocha are intentional, ambitious, and collaborative.

Pavel Ripley, Lesha Pushkarev, and Alina Golubeva from Odd Works—the studio’s core trio, joined by different collaborators from project to project. They describe their studio as empathetic, flexible, and odd.

Ratta Bill from Tiny Studio, a graphic design practice based in Jakarta and Paris. They’re currently a team of four: two lead designers who also manage the studio (Ratta and Nadine Hanisya), one production manager, and one design intern. They describe their culture as versatile, passionate, and organic.

Artem Matyushkin from Non-Objective, whose core team consists of ten people, supported by a wider community of friends who collaborate on specific projects. Their defining values are ideology (which they all share), honesty (to never give in to ideology), and curiosity (the vital mix that drives everything they do).

Cat How from branding agency How&How, with a team of about 26 people across London and LA. To stay connected across time zones, the LA team often endures early morning calls—though that might change as both offices grow more independent. How&How values sky-high standards, honesty, and curiosity above all.

Culture in practice

Depending on the complexity of a company’s structure, its practices, routines, and norms can be simple or intricate—while values, though they may evolve, remain the core of everything.

At Tiny Studio, special importance is placed on developing their own projects alongside client work—often leading to new journeys, adventures, and connections. On a practical level, things are simple, but even a compact team like Tiny Studio’s has its rituals. “We have a mandatory weekly meeting every Monday, plus brainstorming or emergency meetings as needed throughout the week. We also keep regular working hours that everyone’s expected to respect,” says Ratta Bill. 

For Odd Works, one of the key principles that defines their DNA is collaboration. “Within the team, we work as equals—sharing ideas, listening, proposing, and staying open to new perspectives.”

“We often play a kind of mental ping-pong, passing ideas, concepts, and drafts back and forth.”—Pavel Ripley

“It helps us step away, refresh, add new layers of meaning, and test an idea’s strength,” shares Pavel Ripley.

At the same time, Non-Objective has a whole set of initiatives, rituals, and practices that help them stay true to themselves. At the core is the ubiquitous ‘weekly’—a team-wide meeting with a twist: as Artem Matyushkin admits, “Most of the time, we talk about much more than projects—it’s simply a time to chat.”

The same applies to their online communication: team chats include not only core members but also the studio’s extended circle—collaborators, freelancers, and even former interns. Only about ten percent of the conversation is work-related; the rest is an endless stream of memes, resources, cultural discoveries, and life updates. “This chat helps everyone feel like part of a shared community, even though we all live in different cities,” says Artem.

The studio also holds Non-Objective Hours, intentionally set aside for discussing anything that sparks the team’s interest—from pop culture to everyday moments. Another beloved tradition is Non-Objective February, a month each year dedicated entirely to internal projects, with client work on pause. “February is statistically the hardest month for us, mentally,” says Artem.

“After the New Year, everyone’s still getting back into rhythm, and client projects tend to be slower. So we decided to dedicate the month entirely to enjoyable, meaningful work. It keeps the team’s spirit up during a tough time and gives us space to develop ideas that often get delayed by client deadlines.”—Artem Matyushkin.

Finally, the Non-Objective team gathers in person several times a year—usually for the studio’s birthday in May and a pre-holiday meeting in December, when they “meet to review the year, hold our Non-Objective Yearly, reflect on results, and simply enjoy being together one last time before returning to Zoom in January.”

How&How also values in-person connection. They start Mondays with stand-up sessions and a shared breakfast, and end the week with short All Hands meetings on Fridays where everyone can share successes and failures, make professional impressions, celebrate birthdays, or welcome new team members—before heading home early.

Porto Rocha, according to its co-founders, doesn’t have any special rituals, but values collaboration, craft, and a deep understanding of people and culture. Their core beliefs, which guide all their work, are: “We’re here to challenge,” “We believe craft and scale can coexist,” and “We think globally.”

Where culture begins

Is culture spontaneous, or does it need to be shaped and guided? For smaller studios, culture often develops naturally, grounded in the personal values of the founders and early team members who came together around shared beliefs. That was the case with Odd Works, whose founders chose each other largely based on shared values, ambitions, and ways of seeing things. “That’s why we’ve never needed a formal manifesto or set of rules,” says Pavel Ripley.

It was similar for Non-Objective, where culture has been part of the studio’s DNA from the start—the very foundation of how it came to be. It began with a group of designers and producers who were “simply interested in doing different things together. In a sense, the studio grew out of a community and gradually evolved into a more defined, coherent practice.”

Porto Rocha’s culture also developed organically—its values grew from the diverse experiences and backgrounds of its team members.

“They’re a reflection of who we are: queer, Latino, immigrants who decided to do their own thing. But perhaps more importantly, our culture is a reflection of every team member we’ve hired over the past six years, each of whom has contributed to who we are today.”—Leo Porto.

How&How, however, offers a slightly different perspective. In the beginning, things were quite similar. “Opening during the pandemic—and with the looming climate emergency in 2020—meant that our values shaped themselves around whether we can do work that matters, and if we can be truthful about whether it actually does,” says Cat How.

She also notes the influence of the founders: “The culture in a small team is really the founders’ personality with systems wrapped around it. Rog (my co-founder) and I try to weave what we value most into the fabric of the agency—sky-high standards, but also a love of socializing, fairness, and culture.”

As the studio grew, though, the process became more deliberate. “There’s a misconception that culture is just how people naturally work together and get along. This is great, but a bit naive—and as you grow, that has to be addressed. Now we see it as something you build—constantly, with intention, and with the humility to know you won’t always get it right.”

“We’ve now engineered ways to make sure there’s space for people to enjoy the vibe without it feeling forced. For example, we have generous budgets for socials, industry events, typography showcases, football tournaments, and our annual summer and Christmas parties.”

“Culture isn’t something you solve—it’s always shifting, a bit messy, and evolving. We’ll be better at it in two years, facing different cultural challenges we can’t yet see.”—Cat How

“The biggest gift of building culture intentionally is this: you end up with people who choose to be there, who know what they’re signing up for, and who are willing to do the more demanding, more interesting work because the environment makes it possible,” adds Cat.

When growth tests identity

Experience shows that preserving culture often takes precedence over expansion, so small teams may consciously limit or closely monitor growth. “We’re very careful about when to bring in new people, since having a big team has never been our goal or the way we work,” says Ratta Bill. Lesha Pushkarev from Odd Works echoes this: “We’re still small enough to keep our DNA intact. Maybe it’ll never change—we don’t dream of becoming a big machine with a standardized tone.”

Non-Objective takes a more organic approach to growth—one that feels “almost unnoticeable.” “New people don’t just appear out of nowhere—they usually join naturally, coming from within our community. That creates a built-in connection, both personal and professional,” says Artem Matyushkin. “We don’t claim to be universal or the right fit for everyone—and we don’t expect others to be either. Our foundation stays consistent—small, organic changes happen, and we choose to nurture them rather than resist them.”

But organic growth doesn’t always work.

“At ten people, culture was held together by my relationships with everyone. At twenty-six, I can’t have that kind of relationship with every single person.”—Cat How

That’s when principles, processes, and peer relationships become essential.

How&How also consciously limits growth. “Scaling is seductive, but it dilutes,” says Cat. Once the team nears thirty people, “you can’t operate on vibes anymore—you actually have to think about systems.” Hiring with DNA preservation in mind becomes far more critical. “What helps us maintain identity? We hire for values first, and skills a very, very close second. We’ve turned down talented people who didn’t share our values—for example, our Tiered Transparent Salary System to address the gender pay gap, which we’re really proud of. It might sound strict, but cultural drift happens when you compromise on fundamentals.”

Cat also adds, “We’re structured by discipline: brand strategy, creative (which includes copywriting and brand design), digital design, development, and client partnerships. Collaboration is intentional—it can go awry if you don’t design for it. Leave it to chance, and extroverts dominate, introverts check out, and you end up with groupthink masquerading as alignment. So we make sure the most junior person in the room always speaks first, and we have a simple rule: if you’re on a call, it’s your responsibility to have something to say.”

Porto Rocha shares a similar experience. Growing from two to thirty people in five years forced the founders to quickly realize that culture doesn’t sustain itself without effort. “What worked for six people doesn’t always scale. At every stage, we’ve had to ask what kind of company we want to be—and make deliberate choices to protect that identity,” says Felipe Rocha.

Hiring plays an increasingly important role—each new person brings their own perspective, and mismatches can happen. As Felipe notes, “We don’t want to only hire people with similar perspectives and backgrounds—the worst thing would be a room full of people who think alike. We value diverse viewpoints and aren’t looking for yea-sayers. But sometimes it just doesn’t click, and it’s important to be honest when that happens.”

Ultimately, the task is about “protecting the core of what Porto Rocha stands for, while staying open to new ideas and energy.”

How setting shapes culture

The work format can influence both outcomes and culture. No one’s saying it’s impossible to maintain shared values remotely—it just takes a different approach. One option is to stick, whenever possible, to good old-fashioned working in the same room.

That’s the approach taken by Tiny Studio: “We believe physical space and face-to-face interaction are key to sparking organic growth. So we’ve always tried to keep everyone in the same room—surrounded by inspiring books and loving people,” says Ratta Bill.

Surprisingly, given their size and distance, How&How takes a similar view. Their branches work in a hybrid format, with two optional work-from-home days—except Mondays. There’s a reason for that: “Food is brought in on Monday for people to graze on throughout the week—we want it to feel like a home from home.”

“It’s not rocket science, but a happy vibe means happy creatives, which ultimately means beautiful work.”—Cat How

And judging by Cat How’s words, few would turn down a physical studio like theirs: “I’ve always wanted our studios to feel like private members’ clubs—places people come because they actually want to hang out. I’m a bit of a stickler for interiors, so I’ve styled them like my home in Santa Monica—lots of big cacti, Aesop in the loos (even though it often blows the studio’s monthly budget), high loft ceilings, comfy sofas, as much light as possible, and stacks of chilled wine in the fridge.”

Now, can you do that on Zoom?

Long-term online collaboration is, of course, also entirely possible. Take Odd Works, for example: “The three of us have never actually stood side by side—let alone worked together the old-fashioned way: at one table, with loud discussions and shared breaks.” Yet this hasn’t affected the studio’s efficiency or mutual understanding.

“The pandemic completely reshaped how we think about work, helping us develop new methods and tools that keep our communication and processes seamless.”—Pavel Ripley.

Still, there’s a caveat: “Of course, nothing replaces eye contact, a quick sketch on paper, a word of advice over your shoulder, a handshake, a hug—or simply the quiet comfort of being near people you care about. That’s why we dream—and even plan—to one day be in the same place, not just with an office, but a big creative hub where we can bring all our boldest ambitions to life.”

Non-Objective also knows a thing or two about remote work. As Artem Matyushkin admits, “We often joke that we’re a Zoom-based studio, since Non-Objective started during the height of the COVID lockdowns, and we’ve worked remotely from the very beginning.” With team members spread across multiple countries, the studio has never had a permanent space or office culture. Instead, they occasionally organize pop-up residencies when several team members happen to be in the same city. “We find a great space where we can work and do other interesting things. One of our favorite examples was when we opened our studio library to the public, allowing others to access our book collection—we actually worked from the library for a while,” says Artem. “We also sometimes have mini-residencies within long-term collaborations, where partners invite us to work from their space. But these are always situational—they happen naturally when the right time and place align.”

The pandemic also reshaped Porto Rocha. They began as a small studio with a space in Williamsburg—a traditional, familiar setup. But when the lockdown hit, it forced an overnight restructuring. The shift transformed their collaborative approach, introducing regular video check-ins, shared moments, and open channels for feedback. “Ironically, that unfortunate disruption became the foundation for how we operate today. Attendance at the studio is optional, which allows people to build their own schedules and lets us hire exceptional talent beyond New York and London,” says Leo Porto.

When culture becomes text

What if one simply writes down an entire studio’s culture—everything it encompasses—and passes it on through generations of employees? With micro-teams, things can be simpler. Odd Works doesn’t have a formal manifesto, “but at the very beginning, we discussed and outlined our core values to make sure we were aligned and to give them proper weight,” says Pavel Ripley. “So far, this hasn’t evolved into a formal document or onboarding tool simply because there’s no real need for it yet.”

The idea of such a document is appealing, but it can work both ways. How&How has an onboarding guide with two parts—practical and values-based—outlining the studio’s basic principles. “But any manifesto we’ve written feels like we were trying to capture lightning,” says Cat How.

“We’ve found that sometimes formalizing culture can accidentally freeze it. Suddenly, it becomes performative—people start wondering whether they’re living the manifesto instead of just…living it.”—Cat How

Maybe that’s why Porto Rocha, though it has onboarding materials for new team members, places much more emphasis on leading by example—“how we behave day to day, how we give feedback, and how we support one another.”

Non-Objective is in a transitional stage in this regard. The studio already has a fixed set of core principles, Non-Objective 101, which defines how they work, why they work, who they work with, how they want to work, and what broader goals drive them. Building on that, they’re developing a Non-Objective textbook—a more comprehensive document that will include not only their ideological and conceptual foundations but also practical insights into how they structure their work, organize processes, and build relationships with clients and partners. “Ultimately, this document will bring everything together—a manifesto section about our goals, mission, and vision for the future of design and our place within it, and a practical section detailing our internal processes to help newcomers immerse themselves in our studio culture.”