10 Questions With… Ceramicist King Houndekpinkou

King Houndekpinkou Reveals His Deep Connection to the Art of Ceramics

Interior Design: Why did ceramics appeal to you?

King Houndekpinkou: I think ceramics chose me and I responded to the call. When I first encountered claywork, I was soul searching, looking for a purpose that is close to my heart. At the time, I was engaged in a career in communications. While I knew I was creative, I wanted to use my creative skills for more neat and fulfilling purposes, rather than working for companies and using that creative energy elsewhere. I’m not diminishing working for a company; it’s just that they’re not that close to my heart and who I am as a person. So while doing this soul search, I bumped into claywork. And that search led me to Japan, where I discovered ceramics.

ID: How did you begin your career as a ceramicist?

KH: My journey began in Japan in 2012. Then I came back to Paris and decided to keep on soul searching, taking some ceramics classes. At the beginning, I wasn’t really searching for a career; I just wanted to know how nature translated who I am as a person. Since clay is an element of nature that is super old and infused with all the history of humankind, I thought it was the best material to reflect and translate history because it’s so knowledgeable. It’s a huge encyclopedia. We talk about big data nowadays, but I believe clay and soil is where all the data related to human history is stored. I use it as an oracle, really. I embrace it as a way to find answers about the future for myself and for my life, and to just discover more about who I am in the world. Looking back at my career, it’s been amazing. I’m based in Paris, but most of the shows that I’ve been doing have been overseas and internationally. I’m blessed to be having an international career and blessed to know that that’s how it started.

ID: How would you describe your background?

KH: I was born in Montreuil, Paris, but I grew up in the Southern suburbs of France. When I was 19, I went to England to study public relations and communications and then started working in London, coming back to Paris every so often. I also have Beninese heritage, as my mom immigrated from Benin to France so I’m bicultural. Every year, I keep going back to Benin, and at home, I speak Fung and Mena. I understand the language and everything. It was always constantly present despite the distance.

ID: Why did you decide to choose the Japanese technique of making ceramics instead of Beniese?

KH: I think for me, it’s not necessarily about the technique, but it’s about the way of doing, especially when it comes to how you deal with the ceramics and the clay. When I went to Japan in 2012 and started training with my friends, I could sense the way they were addressing the clay and the way they were working. It was really spiritual. You could feel that their Buddhism and Shintoism beliefs were present in the way they practiced the ceramics. That echoed the voodoo cult, the animist voodoo cult of Benin, which is where I saw the similarities. So for me, it happened in a spiritual way and deeply cultural way. But all of that was emphasized through ceramics.

And then, I trained with Toshia Kishibuta, who I would consider my mentor, and he’s based in Vizan. While I was training with him and learning about his way of doing ceramics, he taught me so many values and how to be a man. I feel like he’s my father in the ceramics world. Inevitably, I’m going to keep using all the things that he taught me in my life because, ceramically speaking, that’s how I was born. And this is the guy that raised me. So I’ve got pieces of him that I’m still using today.

ID: Mythicism and spirituality is a strong theme in your work. Why is that important to highlight?

KH: It truly is a way of showing the spiritual depth of the material. The ceramics of Benin and West Africa, in general, show that so well and in a way that it speaks to me. When you see all the spikes on my work, these were all inspired from ritual ceramics from West Africa, but used differently. For me, this represents the sacred way of considering clay, ceramics and the the soul that inhabits those ceramics. The synthesis of both these worlds, from the things that I’ve learned from Japan and the things that I’ve learned from Benin, is sacred. Myths are made out of stories and I am telling the stories of now with the ceramics that I use. Because what I’m also trying to do is open a cultural route in the field of ceramics between Benin and Japan. It’s something that has never been done before. If I accumulate enough layers, I can make sure that it’s something that stays in the history of ceramics.

ID: Your work possesses this incredible shape and comes with bright vibrant colors; why are you so drawn to them?

KH: There’s a huge visceral aspect in my work. I mean, the process of making is already tactile, so my work reflects that. I’m mainly doing ceramics to understand more about myself and about the world, and this process is meditative as I put all the layers together. It’s almost like I’m taking out my own matter, my own flesh, and putting it onto the piece. When it comes to color and texture, the texture creates life and makes the color more vibrant. The texture is important as it is the mark of my personality and my soul. The shapes of the vessels reflect something we all know, and we take for granted because we see it every day. But it’s so ingrained in our environment that we don’t see it anymore. And that’s also an interesting shape to show how much history it carries.

ID: What inspired your new exhibition “Six Prayers” at the Southern guild gallery?

KH: Well, I did a residency at Southern Guild, where I made these works. And so before each firing, I prayed to the Kiln God that the firing goes well. Because there are six pieces, six pieces equals to six firings. And then there’s the fact that when I throw a piece, I enter a meditative state that is intense and visceral—and so full of intention. It’s charged with a lot of energy. And for me, a prayer is that feeling. It’s an intentional moment where you dedicate time to say something or to be thankful, but also to ask a higher being things. And again, we go back to what clay was first used for 30,000 years ago. It was all very spiritual and intentional. With this exhibition, it goes back full circle with the aspect of prayer, the aspect of intention, and being intentional in telling those stories. And here, there are six prayers because there are six intentions.

ID: What was the process of creating “Six Prayers”?

KH: It took me two months to create these works. At that time, the idea was to work at scale—to create a collection consisting of my signature pieces, but to make them on a larger scale.

ID: Would you say your work explores biomimicry concepts and are you open to the object interpretation of your work by viewers?

KH: No, not necessarily. I think my aim is to make sure the pieces are living and breathing, whatever shape they are. If you feel some life in them, then I’ve done my job well. If you are able to connect with them with your own imagination, and it touches your heart in a way that it makes you remember your childhood, it’s a great thing for me. I think it’s important because that’s how people communicate and exchange ideas. For myself, I have to be open to criticism as well. Who am I to say that people should not see my work in a certain way? You always see things in your own perspective, which is based on your background and cultural heritage. But luckily, throughout my career—and being able to show on all five continents—I’ve always had positive feedback. In that, I’d say that there’s something universal in the work that people can feel.

ID Are you exploring other material forms?

KH: Oh yes! I am collaborating with other artisans and designers to create a line of usable artworks. I am always open to collaborate and create new things that are a translation of my current work.

10 Questions With… Sculptor Adam Birch

How Sculptor Adam Birch Is Moved By Texture + Nature

Interior Design: What shaped your career as a sculptor?

Adam Birch: When I was apprenticing as an arborist, a perfectly symmetrical fork caught my attention while pruning some trees one day. I kept it for a few years, and slowly began chiseling away at it with hand tools. That was my first tree fork sculpture, which was followed by others that I exhibited locally. Trevyn and Julian McGowan [co-founders of Southern Guild] had seen some of my work and came to visit me in my workshop in the town of Swellendam—this ended in them commissioning me to make some pieces for Anthropologie in London. They also invited me to make some works for a group exhibition of timber sculpture and collectible furniture titled “Wood Work,” at their first gallery in Woodstock, Cape Town in 2016.

ID: Describe your educational and family background and how that shaped your career.

AB: I grew up surrounded by nature—my dad managed a farm in the Cape Winelands and we had a lot of freedom as kids to immerse ourselves in the wild outdoors. At boarding school, I used to climb trees so that I could smoke—I was quite naughty as a kid—because no one ever looked up. It was the perfect place to evade the teachers’ notice. After high school, I studied fine art at the University of Stellenbosch majoring in applied graphics and photography, but I was always envious of the sculpture students, and I was drawn to the three-dimensional medium from early on. I was privileged to learn from so many excellent professors who were practicing artists themselves and who emphasized the importance of doing things over and over again to improve and to refine my technique. The same thing applies to working with wood—I’m constantly pushing the possibilities of what the timber can cope with. In the beginning, my work was more determined by the tree’s existing lines and inherent shape, but over the years I’ve been able to flex my skills and find new ways of working with the grain to find more sculptural forms.

ID: You were an arborist and forester for decades. How did you begin and what was work like as an arborist?

AB: Just after I graduated from university, I saw an ad for a tree climber and thought that would be a good way to earn some money. When I started my apprenticeship, I was told by my boss that I wouldn’t last six months—he made me drag and load branches for the first month—so I lasted seven, just to prove him wrong and then quit! I worked at a woodworking studio in Stellenbosch afterwards, designing furniture and various functional fittings. I started my own tree-felling company a couple years later. Honestly, it was terrifying initially—you are working with dangerous tools and at such great heights. You get used to it over time though; in fact, I would say I get an adrenaline rush from it now.

ID: What inspired your new exhibition at the Southern Guild?

AB: With this body of work, I was primarily concerned with pushing the boundaries of what the timber can do and handle. I’m continuing to explore some of the same shapes while working harder to tease out more flamboyant and expressive forms. Swan, for instance, is a kind of elongated love-seat, formed by scooping out two sections of a continuous piece of wood, while keeping a sort of backrest between them right at the point where the tree splits into two. I have played with the piece’s profile to take into consideration the full 360-degree experience—from one angle it looks like an elegant, slightly upturned slipper; from the other side, it’s all swirling shapes that seem to wrap around the human figure. The movement is echoed by the incredible marbled patterns of the grain in this piece of wood.

ID: Does “Like Something Almost Being Said” has a way to explain the language of trees and how we could communicate our feelings to them?

AB: I sometimes find myself wanting to say sorry to a tree before cutting it down, even though chances are that it is already dead. I feel overwhelming respect for these giants, especially during the process of carving the felled tree into smaller pieces. Timber is the only material that can withstand the forces it has to endure: snow, wind, rain. If you had to cast a tree in another material—metal or plastic—nothing could withstand the force it endures with the same elegance and lightness. The leaves on a large gum tree can collectively weigh up to a tonne just on their own. I also feel incredible humility and wonder: no two pieces of wood are ever the same. Each piece has the potential to teach a new lesson. You think you’re going to do one thing, but the wood decides something else.

ID: Your work plays with variant forms, most especially curves that could be a joint of pairs. Do the shapes and forms represent animals, or is it for an aesthetic purpose?

AB: I’m not imagining animals or any particularly figurative shapes when I’m carving the wood. If anything, the shapes remind me of bones and driftwood that wash up on the ocean shore. I like the gentle shapes and smooth texture of things worn away over time, like the rope on a ship mast, oars on the gunnels of a boat, or two branches that rub against each other. When choosing my shapes, I have to take functionality into account as well, of course. The piece can’t fall over, which is why I often use a three-footed design. People need to sit on them. Kids need to climb on them.

ID: In terms of materials, how do you determine whether a wood is ready to be used, and are you open to exploring with other materials aside from woods, such as clay, paper or metals?

AB: I have incorporated copper before and am keen to try concrete or terrazzo, but wood is still the primary material. I let the wood stand for a couple of years—for as long as it can. Often you think a piece is dry, but it turns out not to be. You have no guarantees when you start working with it; you just hope for the best. I’m a bit of a hoarder when it comes to wood. I have a few pieces stashed here, there and everywhere, but mostly at my outdoor workshop.

ID: As an arborist, you must care deeply about trees. Are you concerned about cutting down trees to also create works?

AB: I never cut a tree down to make a sculpture. As an arborist, I only fell alien trees or trees that are diseased or already dead. I think I’m doing my bit by removing the alien species. For example, gum trees in South Africa are very invasive and in Cape Town in particular, they pose environmental threats, because they are highly combustible and remove a lot of water from the water table.

ID: What is it like working in your open-air Cape Town workshop, and what was your routine like creating the pieces that are currently being exhibited?

AB: I work on three or four pieces concurrently, but I’m not a routine kind of guy—my work feels a lot like chaos management. Working conditions are determined by the weather, but I roll with it and it’s mostly great fun. I have anywhere between four and nine people who work with me, and there is constant activity and noise. At any one time, there are guys chopping firewood, cleaning machines, sharpening blades, using chainsaws, and moving the pieces around depending on the sun and wind. Conditions are noisy and dusty.

ID: How do you want viewers to interpret your works and exhibitions? 

AB: People can make their own minds up and find their own way of interacting with and using the pieces. What makes me very happy is how kids respond when seeing my work—they immediately start climbing all over it, swinging, jumping, and playing. It’s a joy to see.

10 Questions With… Armstrong Yakubu

Armstrong Yakubu On Pushing Architectural Boundaries

Interior Design: How did a Nigerian boy end up studying architecture in London?

Armstrong Yakubu: When I was a kid, one of my neighbors was an architect. My parents were young and worked full-time, so I spent a lot of time at his house. All the houses and gardens in our community were the same, but his place was different. His interiors were attractive. I also went to his studio and watched him make models. I started boarding school in the U.K. when I was 14, and though I studied science throughout, I switched at the last minute and applied to the Architectural Association (AA). I wasn’t going to be a doctor; I wanted to be an architect.

It was always my intention to return to Nigeria after school. But in my final year at the AA, my tutors—Ron Herron of Archigram and Jan Kaplicky of Future Systems—suggested that I visit Sainsbury Centre. It was the first time that architecture moved me. The building is fresh, democratic and easy to understand—it remains one of Baron Norman Foster’s most famous buildings. So I applied to work at his firm: Foster + Partners. That ended my plans to go home after graduation.

ID: How did working in Hong Kong in the 1990s impact your architectural outlook?

AY: As architects, the buildings we produce are only as good as the clients that we have. We cannot make good architecture without people who want to make a difference, who give us agency, and whose goals align with ours. I joined Foster + Partners during a downturn; it was tough for architects in the U.K. and many worked in the public sector. Today, it is completely different. Following former Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher’s financial market deregulation, architecture became very private sector-driven. When I first started, there were 40 people in the firm; within a couple of years, we were back up to 100.

Hong Kong is a bold place; the city is always pushing for change and innovation. I lived there from 1990 to 1998 during my formative years. I met my American wife in Hong Kong. I was there for the handover in 1997 and the opening of Hong Kong International Airport at Chek Lap Kok. I worked on the Hung Hom station and HACTL, the air cargo terminals at the new airport. The quality of our projects and clients were incentives to stay at the practice.

ID: What makes the HSBC Building and HKIA special projects for Hong Kong and your studio?

AY: HSBC is a seminal building. Our client wanted to re-examine how people work and how they navigate their workplace—and they wanted to give something back to the city. The result is a flexible high-rise with a central atrium that brings natural light down to the core. The angled escalators are positioned to respect the feng shui doctrine. The entire building is raised to accommodate a large public plaza on the ground level. It was a revolutionary building for Hong Kong when it opened.

HKIA was the model for airports to follow. It is both grand and intimate. It was the first time that both arrivals and departures shared the same hall, allowing people to feel the excitement of traveling together. Its spaces encourage people to move intuitively throughout the terminal. The simple roof structure allowed for daylight everywhere. From almost every part of the departure experience, you can look outside.

For HSBC, HKIA and many of our other buildings, it is easy to understand their construction and how they work. They are not covered or decorated. It is challenging to arrive at this clarity, because it is about doing the most with the least.

ID: Has your firm been championing adaptive re-use design from day one?

AY: Reducing carbon is about doing the most with the least. We all have to deal with the climate crisis. And I feel the best buildings relate to history. You can see that with the Reichstag in Berlin. The dome is transparent, and it is very clear what is old and what is new. It is the same with the covered plaza at the Queen Elizabeth II Great Court in London’s British Museum. The interventions show the passage of time by being true to history.

ID: The Murray hotel in Hong Kong showcases both adaptive re-use and interiors. Can you elaborate on this?

AY: The points of contact for people in a building are very important. The spaces between and within buildings are just as crucial as the building itself. And we have long been about the three R’s: reinvent, renew, renovate. We always question clients if a building really needs to come down. More adaptive re-use is better for the planet and something all architects need to participate in.

For the Murray, we had input from the original 1966 building’s architect Ron Phillips. He helped us understand why and how the building was designed. There was an oil crisis at the time the building was conceived. Being a civil servant designing a government building, he was tasked to come up with a solution that minimized electricity. The angled windows mean that the sun never hits the glass, requiring very little air conditioning to keep everyone comfortable.

How do we build upon this? The solution was a 21st century interpretation of a luxury hotel. As people move around the building, they are fully aware of what is new and old. The building tells a story that links to its history and the city’s fabric.

ID: And now the firm’s work is mostly in the Middle East?

AY: Our projects are spread across the globe from San Francisco to Sydney. We strive to work with clients who want to invest in meaningful projects. For example, Masdar City is a sustainable masterplan project in Abu Dhabi—an extraordinary experiment that runs completely on renewable energy. Its design takes cues from Middle Eastern cities and streets, drawing on the history of the region and its traditional architecture while using the latest technologies to achieve a sustainable outcome. 

ID: What are your current stateside projects in the pipeline?

AY: One Beverly Hills is a mixed-use development with hotels and residences set around a huge botanical garden. It’s very much about the public space and greenery. During the design process, we discovered that the site was originally a nursery for all the city’s planting when Beverly Hills was first master planned. It is wonderful that the site’s history determined part of the project’s current program.

Television City Los Angeles is about reimagining the film studio for the future. There are so many people involved in making movies and television: set designers, make-up artists, catering crew. It’s very people intensive, like a university campus. It’s still in the early days, but we are preserving and re-using buildings on the historical site. Heritage is very much part of Hollywood culture.

ID: Are you personally interested in housing?

AY: Housing is an issue everywhere in the world. And the pandemic made things even more challenging as homes became workplaces.

I use the word “home” on purpose. They are not units. What does a home mean to people? What do they want out of it? There are universal traits with specific cultural needs and differences. Moving forward, it is critical that housing trends are generous in spirit. Windows should be operable. There should be shading. They should have views out. All residences should be treated as homes for people, not products. What do young people need and where do they want to be? Homes do not have to be luxurious; public housing can be very special if they are designed with generosity in mind.

ID: How does the Riverside studio reflect your firm’s DNA?

AY: Our studio is also like a university campus, where many different minds meet in a hotbed of creativity. From the beginning, we had engineers, interior designers, landscape architects and media relations colleagues all in the same space. Today, we have model makers, 3D printers, environmental psychologists, urban planners, researchers and many other professionals whose specialties inform our projects. This is one of our biggest strengths.

We are all about people and problem solving. Norman started the process of regular project reviews. Everyone can see what’s going on. Nothing is locked away. Models are everywhere; they are things that you can touch, walk around, and visually enter. We make models at every stage from concept to final design. They are powerful tools; like a material sample that alludes to what an interior will look and feel like. It helps clients who may not understand the visual world of drawings and images.

ID: What do you like to do when you’re not working?

AY: I enjoy time in the kitchen when I’m at home. I’m a make it up as I go cook. I have a nice wok and use it for a lot of stir fries, experimenting with the East Asian flavors I grew to love while living in Hong Kong. And I like planning family trips, though often they revolve around architectural tours. Design is very much part of our lives.

10 Questions With… The Curators Of ‘Constructing Hope: Ukraine’

On view at the Center for Architecture in New York, the exhibition “Constructing Hope: Ukraine” presents the work of over one dozen practitioners using architectural concepts and strategies in support of Ukraine. The show illustrates that more than two years after the full-scale Russian invasion of Ukraine, local organizations and multidisciplinary firms have mounted creative and inspiring responses to support Ukrainian resistance and reconstruction. Bringing together a range of projects, the exhibition sheds light on how architecture can support communities with thoughtful and groundbreaking strategies.

“Constructing Hope,” on view through September 3 at 536 LaGuardia Place, was curated by Ashley Bigham, Sasha Topolnytska, and Betty Roytburd. Ashley Bigham is an associate professor at the Knowlton School of Architecture and co-director of Outpost Office. Bigham is also a collaborative partner and visiting faculty at the Kharkiv School of Architecture in Ukraine. Sasha Topolnytska, a Ukrainian-born and American-trained architectural designer and educator, is currently an adjunct professor at Spitzer School of Architecture at the City College of New York and a founder of Farmmm Studio. Betty Roytburd, a Ukrainian-born artist, activist and mental health worker living and working in New York City, co-founded SPILKA NGO and is currently pursuing a Master of Social Work at the Silberman School of Social Work at Hunter College.

Interior Design asked the three curators to discuss the exhibition’s themes and components, as well as its message to the world.

Learn More About “Constructing Hope: Ukraine”

Interior Design: Can you tell us about the ways you are each connected to Ukraine and how that impacted the exhibition?

Sasha Topolnytska: I was born in Kyiv, Ukraine, and moved to the United States when I was 17. I studied and trained as an architect here, and even started a family. With most of my adult life in the U.S., my life in Ukraine felt almost distant. However, the invasion of Ukraine on February 24, 2022, has been one of the most traumatic and pivoting events of my life. It reminded me how important my Ukrainian culture is to me and that preserving and sharing it with others is essential, especially when it is actively under the threat of destruction.

Betty Roytburd: I was born in Odesa, Ukraine, and moved to New York when I was 10. Since then, I have been consistently traveling to Ukraine to spend time with family, friends, and loved ones who continue to live and work in Ukraine. At the start of the full-scale invasion, together with a group of other Ukrainians and friends, I co-founded a nonprofit organization that hosted dinners, music shows, and cultural events to raise money for mutual aid and volunteer efforts in Ukraine.

Ashley Bigham: I first traveled to Ukraine in 2008 as an undergraduate architecture student. I quickly became fascinated with the architecture, and took it upon myself to study a part of the world frequently overlooked in American architectural education. In 2014, I moved to Ukraine as a Fulbright Fellow to pursue a year of research that coincided with the Revolution of Dignity. Witnessing the revolution first-hand helped me understand Ukraine’s long fight for democracy, freedom, and dignity, and solidified my desire to support that fight. In the years following, I partnered with Ukrainian architecture schools and taught travel courses where American architecture students could visit Ukraine. During the past decade, it has remained my mission to share the incredible artistic achievements of Ukrainian culture with the world.

ID: What were you most considering when bringing this group of practitioners together in one exhibition?

ST: Since the full-scale invasion of Ukraine, famous international architects have proposed grand, sweeping ideas for rebuilding Ukrainian cities like Kharkiv, which has been under continuous attack since the start of the invasion. While it is essential to bring international practitioners to the table in a conversation about reconstruction efforts, we believe that the most critical work is being done by grassroots initiatives inside and outside Ukraine, led by Ukrainians, often in collaboration with international partners. In our exhibition, we focus on collaborative community-led projects that highlight Ukrainian culture and the importance of preserving it in every future reconstruction project. We invite international audiences to learn more about Ukrainian design culture and the importance of preserving it in any rebuilding efforts.

ID: What were the concepts that drove the design of the exhibition, including its physical and thematic arrangement?

AB: It was always vital for us to balance the ideas of hope with the realities of war in Ukraine. In addition, the exhibition’s content should be accessible to a diverse audience who may know very little about Ukraine. We quickly realized that hope was not an abstract concept or a choice; it is the actions of designers and citizens that provide the hope necessary to move forward. The idea that all people, no matter their training or physical ability, have something to contribute to war recovery efforts is a powerful and universal narrative in the exhibition.

ID: Could each of you tell us about a practitioner or element that felt especially meaningful?

ST: Repair Together is a self-organized grassroots organization engaging volunteers worldwide to rebuild villages and homes in the Chernihiv region. Rave Toloka is their initiative during which volunteers clean up rubble caused by Russian aggression to the music of DJ sets. The title of this project is based on the ancient Ukrainian tradition of mutual assistance called “toloka,” which involves people gathering and working together to address urgent community needs. They also have been fixing people’s damaged homes and constructing new ones. Most of the team members and volunteers of Repair Together do not come from architectural or construction backgrounds. Yet, they are actively using architectural strategies to respond to the present needs of their community.

BR: It was crucial for us to communicate to our audiences how hope is ingrained in virtually every decision involved in reconstruction projects amidst ongoing destruction. This is powerfully illustrated by the work of Livyj Bereh (Left Bank), a volunteer organization led by three friends from Kyiv: Vlad Sharapa, a 38-year-old former construction worker, Ihor Okuniev, a 35-year-old multimedia artist, and Ksenia Kalmus, a 36-year-old florist. Livyj Bereh integrates immediate aid with long-term vision, creatively documenting their work through photography and historical archiving. Having originally come together to distribute mutual aid, they have since focused on restoring roofs in war-torn villages, supporting regional economies by employing and training local workers and preserving Ukrainian cultural heritage. Their approach unites urgent actions with poetic attention to detail. Members Vladyslav and Ihor have recently enlisted in the Ukrainian armed forces.

AB: The exhibition includes two chair prototypes designed by architecture students from the Kharkiv School of Architecture, each responding to different needs brought on by the war. One of the chairs is compact and lightweight so that it can be mobile as people move in and out of bomb shelters, and the other is reconfigurable to help adapt to the many different needs of students during the day, including resting and studying. These students are pursuing a degree in architecture, despite the difficulty of war, because they are dedicated to learning the skills and knowledge they will need to rebuild their society. Their optimism, hard work, and determination inspire me daily.

ID: Can you explain the story behind the full-scale prototype of a bed designed by the Ukrainian NGO MetaLab?

ST: The gallery has a beautiful connection to the street, with a large storefront looking into a double-height gallery space. We wanted to take advantage of this unique view and suspend a modular bed system designed by the Ukrainian NGO MetaLab, which provides temporary emergency accommodation for internally displaced people in Western Ukraine. By separating the bed into separate pieces in the double-height gallery space, similar to the architectural representation technique of exploded isometric drawing, we wanted to show the prototype’s simple yet clever design. 

ID: What can you tell us about the Oberih publication and how Understructures brought it to life?

BR: Oberih, which translates from Ukrainian as “an item that protects,” is the name of a publication by Understructures, a collective of friends who are artists, architects, and designers. The book features a collection of personal stories about objects that offer solace and protection, gathered during the early months of the Russian invasion of Ukraine. These stories—initially shared as short texts, images, voice messages, and social media posts—beautifully capture how we find comfort in the symbols of home during times of crisis. Since 2022, Oberih has raised over $40,500 for grassroots volunteer efforts. Since early 2023, Understructures, alongside Ukrainian activist Olena Samoilenko, has been delivering crucial medical aid to vulnerable populations unable to evacuate in the de-occupied Southern region of Kherson, which has been devastated by flooding and ongoing Russian attacks. Victor Gluschenko, a founding member of Understructures, is currently on the frontline as part of a volunteer air reconnaissance unit. Many of the initiatives funded by Oberih are featured in this exhibition, highlighting how creative collaboration can bring hope and protection in the darkest times.

ID: And how do the graphics—inspired by taped windows—by Aliona Solomadina, enhance the exhibit and the story it aims to tell?

ST: The taped windows, typically found throughout Ukraine during the ongoing war, inspired the graphic identity for the exhibition. Ukrainian people often tape their windows in intricate, crisscross patterns to protect their homes from shattering glass during explosions. This practical solution has become a visible symbol of resistance in Ukraine and one we used as an organizing design feature in the exhibition.

ID: Shigeru Ban’s Paper Partition System is also included. Can you tell us about how local firms made use of the system and if it can point towards how international firms can potentially support this ongoing effort?

AB: In the first weeks of the war, Shigeru Ban contacted designers in Ukraine to share his design for lightweight partition systems made of cardboard. Ukrainian architects then adapted his system to construct temporary shelters in gymnasiums or large halls to house internally displaced people. They also modified the designs to use surplus local building materials like metal construction fencing. It’s important to note that Ban first designed the Paper Partition System following a devastating earthquake in Japan. Similarly, we hope that others can utilize design ideas featured in our exhibition to respond to other humanitarian disasters. Unfortunately, we know that many people worldwide currently need life-saving shelter and spaces of dignity. Design is at its best when shared widely and adapted locally.

ID: What surprised you as you put together this exhibition?

BR: As an artist and mental health worker, working on this exhibition offered me a unique opportunity to engage with architecture in a deeply immersive way. I have been inspired to learn about ways architecture and storytelling both involve creating and shaping worlds. Working on this project, I was particularly struck by the connections between various disciplines in the work of the architects, artists, and creators. The creative ways the participating initiatives tackle questions related to mental health in the communities they are serving have been something I continue to reflect on and think about. The process of presenting the projects in this exhibition has highlighted the multifaceted and interdisciplinary nature of recovery work and prompted me to consider how different elements in our daily lives can truly make a place feel like home for every individual.

ID: The message here is a hopeful one. How did putting this together impact your perspective on the war or your own outlook?

BR: The work showcased in this exhibition is inspiring on multiple levels. It shifts the perspective from viewing Ukraine solely as a place of conflict to recognizing it as a place with much to offer and share. By employing skill and knowledge exchange, these projects illustrate the profound impact of collaboration and resilience. Mutual aid projects also build solidarity. Much of the work demonstrates that those on the front lines of a crisis have the best wisdom to solve the problems and that collective action is the way forward. On a larger scale, my greatest hope is that these approaches will inspire societal change and highlight the power of ingenuity and collectives, both in small-scale initiatives and in fostering a broader sense of unity, solidarity, and support in Ukraine and internationally.

10 Questions With…Jacu Strauss

Jacu Strauss Brings Storytelling Magic To The Hospitality Space

Interior Design: When you think about your childhood and teenage years in South Africa’s Kalahari Desert, how do you think they relate to the projects you have created over the years and your way of paying homage to architecture and design?

Jacu Strauss: Often, a rural upbringing is associated with a lack of resources and especially creative stimulation—and this is true—but this is exactly what sparked my interest in art and design. I was always aware of my surroundings. From as early as I can remember, I literally had to “create” with what I could find around me, with my own hands. Experimentation was key, and my skills are mostly self-taught. This “creativity within limitations” is still a mindset I use today. I am still just as hands on with all my projects. I make things, I paint, I experiment with materials found locally, I collect, and I like to use and reuse what is already there. True sustainability.

ID: Could you share your journey up to becoming the creative director of Lore Group?

JS: When I finished high school, I traveled a lot before settling in New Zealand and doing my part at architecture school. I then moved back to London and finished my second degree in architecture at the Bartlett School of Architecture. I graduated in 2008 as the financial crash hit the world and I was faced with challenging job prospects in the field of architecture. I decided to use it as an opportunity to work for someone beyond the world of architecture. I was lucky to meet creative director Tom Dixon and his team and, eventually, I accepted a job in his interiors department. The projects grew larger and more international. Eventually we pitched for our first hotel project and won the job. This was for Sea Containers in London, and this is where I fell in love with hospitality design.

After Sea Containers, I was offered an opportunity to work on another hotel in Amsterdam, the Pulitzer, and design it under my own name. During my first visit to the Pulitzer, I realized that this was a once in a lifetime opportunity—albeit a very complex one—that required a hands-on approach. On the back of the success of that hotel, we had the courage and confidence to do more hotels and, after doing a few more, we founded Lore Group.

ID: What is your criteria when evaluating potential projects?

JS: Although I mainly represent the design, I also have to wear other hats when it comes to creating hotels. It is important to understand operations, service, location, scale of a business with a very long-term plan. All of these need equal attention and consideration for a hotel to work and have proper longevity. A key element is storytelling—this is where we always start. We spend a lot of time asking ourselves why we are doing this, what the message is, and if the story already exists or if we need to create it. Hotels are organic and constantly evolving, and as a result, the design and storytelling needs to be strong enough from the beginning in order to allow any necessary changes and updates in the future.

ID: How has your view of architecture and design changed since working with hotels all over the world?

JS: There has been a great shift towards hotels where the design is contextual to its location and surroundings. Most major hospitality markets now have such variety that we, as designers, get better license to design what we think is right for our buildings and locations, rather than try applying a cookie-cutter formula. At Lore, we get to create our own rules for each hotel, and this results in an experience that feels authentic and unique.

ID: Your vision combines respect for the past, storytelling, and longevity of design, how do you find the perfect balance? 

JS: It is a bit of science and a bit of art. Nevertheless, with each project, we start from scratch and have to constantly experiment to find that sweet spot where the story is truthful. This truth informs the design and eventually allows us to create something unique with a strong narrative that resonates with guests and staff. Sometimes, we get there quickly and other times, it takes several journeys to find what exactly works for each of our hotels and why. But, I believe this is one of the key steps to a successful project—big or small.

ID: When you get involved in commercial real estate projects, I’ve heard your approach is towards people. How do you instill your design approach into workplaces?

JS: I am in a position to bring that spirit of hospitality into a sector that is generally not associated with good design for people at work. Most traditional workplace examples were cubicles and white marble mausoleum lobbies, but I also think some recent examples have gone a little too far the other way with way too much “forced fun.” Design is always about people, and the way we work has changed so much so quickly, yet the commercial world has not kept up with all these changes. A workplace needs to be a safe and comfortable place—with the right amount of personality—and provide decent amenities and flexibility to encourage workers back to the office where they can engage face to face with colleagues. Everything you would notice in a good hotel should also be considered for office design, including how the lobby smells, the lighting, and how the restrooms look.

ID: What have been some of the biggest challenges in your career?

JS: We have had to accommodate the ways that travel has changed since the pandemic. Examples include longer stays, travel with bigger groups like families, and technology (which seems to be changing faster and faster). From a design perspective, supply chain issues with projects have been a bigger challenge than before. A general challenge, but a good one, is that guests have an increasing appreciation of value—and hotel standards need to reflect this.

Challenges are a major part of what design is about. We are problem solvers and with the right attitude, you can turn those challenges and problems into meaningful solutions that can truly delight people. I am very fortunate to work on projects with long-term prospects and this sets in motion a certain state of mind: designing something well once. Some interior design has become a bit more like fast fashion and this means the turnovers are quick, often uninspired and without any substance. Our surroundings are too important to our well-being for it to feel so temporary.

ID: Can we talk about The Flower Collector’s Suite, The Merchant Suite, The Porcelain Collector’s Suite and The Beauty House, your new projects for Pulitzer Amsterdam?

JS: The inspiration for the new additions was in keeping with Pulitzer’s blend of mid-century décor and contemporary luxury, combined with a timeless elegance seen throughout the rest of the property. The Merchant Suite is inspired by the country’s maritime traditions and merchant exploration around the world, symbolizing the collections of relics one would have brought home. The room presents exposed beams and a neutral palette, offering curated vintage furniture and artifacts with oak herringbone floors throughout.

The Flower Collector’s Suite is an ode to the city’s longstanding history of flowers, re-imagining a 19th-century tulip trader’s home, which combines traditional Dutch architecture with floral artwork and bespoke antique furniture. The room features neutral color tones with handmade tiles originating from an artisan in France, antique mirrors and carved wooden tulips in the bed’s headboard. The Porcelain Collector’s Suite completes the series and it is inspired by the previous inhabitant’s passion for collecting, presenting an array of locally sourced porcelain objects and artistry, featuring intricate tableware and fine vases. The Beauty House brings a sense of wellbeing within an innovative design-led space and it symbolizes our first venture into wellness.

ID: What else have you completed recently?

JS: I was part of a special residential project in New York called “Anagram Columbus Circle.” It was a residential brick tower situated at the north most point of Columbus Circle, at 1 West 60th Street. We engaged with INC architects for the project, and I painted the art in the lobby.

ID: What is next for Jacu Strauss and the Lore Group?

JS: We are always waiting for the next beautiful building to find us so we can do our magic and add it to our portfolio or hotels. We are ambitious but we are also patient. We only work with buildings we love and where we feel we can create stories that last and delight. In the meanwhile, a hotel is never fully “done,” so we are always revisiting elements at our current hotels to make improvements and adapt to constant changes and needs.

10 Questions With… Jon Powell

Jon Powell On Designing Seamless Interiors With A New York Edge

Interior Design: What made you feel ready to start your own venture? Was there a specific moment or project to give you the confidence?

Jon Powell: A close friend of mine, interior designer Bachman Brown, connected me with a great project in the West Village of New York City that I couldn’t turn down. While that initial project got off the ground, I was still working with Maya Lin Studio to complete the new Neilson Library at Smith College. It was a smooth transition. 

ID: What were the challenges of opening your own studio right before the pandemic? 

JP: It sounds crazy to say, but the timing worked out well, despite the global pandemic. I was lucky because I had great advisors, including friends and family. I’ve also been in New York City for a long time, so I had a great network of contacts. They connected me with people looking for an architect, across a wide range of projects. When I first started, it was just me and I was working from home, so my overhead costs were fairly minimal. I think the most challenging part was delivering news to people about increased costs and delays that were out of everyone’s control at the time. That was not an inspiring experience.

ID: Could you talk about your experience at Maya Lin’s studio? How influential was it to work with an architect who is also an artist?

Jon Powell: When I wasn’t working on buildings, I was focused on the architectural aspects of artworks, like large-scale sculptures that required plumbing or other mechanical features. For me now, it’s extremely useful to understand architecture as sculpture and vice-versa. My brain got wired a bit differently, having had the opportunity to work on sculpture and architecture in tandem. I don’t have many preconceived notions about what may or may not be possible, which comes from experiencing the art production process and exposure to boundary-pushing approaches.

ID: What was the most inspiring project you worked on during your time with Lin? Was it a sculptural or a traditionally architectural project?

JP: There are so many. The bell tower that she completed at Shantou University in China was both sculpture and architecture. For that project, I was once on the ground in Taiwan for six hours to approve a bronze bell before I had a meeting in Hong Kong with the project team. Many of the projects I had the privilege of working on had a similar sort of energy. There was rarely a moment when I didn’t have something interesting to do or somewhere to go—China, Boston, Northampton, or Switzerland. It was a special time in my life.

ID: New York City, especially Brooklyn, seems to be a particular focus among your projects. Could you talk about this idea of locality?  

JP: Doing work in New York City is inherently local because you’re always dealing with uniquely New York things—the Department of Buildings, zoning, co-op boards, and really old buildings that have been in continuous use, with who-knows-what going on behind the walls. Once you have the skill set to navigate these different groups and situations, you’re able to accomplish a lot. 

At my studio, we love historic preservation, and we love modernism. New York encompasses both like no other place on Earth. If we preserve, we’re preserving; if we’re doing something new, we like to be experimental. One side definitely influences the other, though.

ID: Your mission statement underlines a diversity in projects that range from high-end to affordable housing. What is the binding vision in your broad palette of undertakings?

JP: I’m attracted to the project, not just the category. I think that’s what keeps our practice vibrant. One day we’re up in Newburgh, New York, trying to resuscitate a condemned building, another day we’re in the Hamptons talking about slatted walls and green roofs, and the next day we’re in Brooklyn debating whether we should sister joists or install beams. We’ve been lucky to attract clients with a wide variety of design interests, programs, and budgets. The greater the diversity of projects the more opportunity we have to engage in things like sustainability, or affordable housing, or pure aesthetic experimentation. 

ID: There is a sense of effortless or blasé sexiness in your interiors, especially in commercial projects such as the Ron Dorff flagship store. How was your approach, for example, to the brief (no pun intended) of designing a men’s underwear brand?

JP: “Effortless or blasé sexiness”—I love that categorization. That particular project was a fun new challenge because our clients gave us a kit of parts to fill the space with, and the space is massive. Our approach was almost improvisational, not only because it was our first retail project, but because we had to create something site specific from something prescribed. It was a great creative challenge, especially finding a vibe that felt both unique to the space but also recognizably the brand’s. 

One of our clients once told me that it was nice working with an architect who didn’t have an ego, which I liked hearing. I’d like to be known for being responsible and fun. Like a pair of underwear!

ID: Working mainly in New York also means projects often involve renovation and restoration. What fascinates you about discovering and emphasizing an interior’s past characteristics? 

JP: From the very beginning, we’ve worked in the realms of historic restoration and preservation. They continue to be core elements of my practice. Restoration and renovation are straightforward on their own, but it can get funky when you have to do both at the same time. For example, we have a project right now in Brooklyn Heights, a 19th-century townhouse, and the outhouse is still standing. We were like, huh? Why is it still there? Should we keep it? This is an extreme example, but it poses a lot of the questions we try to answer when we work between these two modalities of designing.

While it may be true that “they don’t build ’em like they used to,” many structures in New York City were built quickly and cheaply. People naturally ascribe value to something old, even if it wasn’t distinctive or expensive when it was built. I like the challenge of advising on what to do in these cases. There’s certainly value in something that has survived a long time in New York City. But there’s also value in doing something unexpected with these spaces while honoring their histories. It sheds light how we value—or devalue—the everyday structures we come into contact with.

ID: Private residences are about molding into the residents’ lifestyles and habits. What kind of dialogues do you cultivate with your clients before envisioning their new habitats?

JP: We end up spending a lot of time together, so we get to know our clients well. In fact, almost half our current projects came from repeat clients. Sometimes I wonder if we should have better boundaries, but we gain so much from going in deep—and from caring about designing spaces that fully capture the spirit of our clients. We also try not to repeat ourselves. Our residential portfolio benefits from our interpretations of the needs of our clients, versus repurposing a previous approach. I’m also an empathetic person, so I can sense things and go with them. 

ID: In relation to the previous question, as an architect who works with queer clients, how do you approach domesticity and function from a queer perspective? 

JP: Many LGBTQIA people have had to pay close attention to their environments, for better or worse. But out of this can come a perceptiveness about space and living. My queer clients often bring this perceptiveness to the table. We can harness it—together—to design domestic spaces that embrace their lives. 

10 Questions With… Noz Design Founder Noz Nozawa

For a long time, the team was just me. Then it was me and one person. During the pandemic—a wild time to grow a company—we added two more people to become a team of four and have been anywhere between three and five ever since. I love having talented designers with project management skills on my team, and I cannot recommend enough having a badass design assistant who is up for anything.

ID: Can you tell us about how jewelry influences your firm’s work?

NN: Until I got the chance to design a lighting collection, jewelry was really more of a hobby. After spending all workday looking at homes, rooms, and sofas—large human-scaled things—it rests my eyes to focus on earrings, necklaces, and pendants, with their teeny gems and incredibly tiny details. Through the process of designing light fixtures, though, it has been cool to learn how many of the processes in jewelry—like stone faceting, metal casting, and chain making—are similar to the ways lighting is manufactured.

ID: You’ve recently released a debut lighting collection. How did you get connected to Corbett Lighting, what was the collaboration like with them, and what’s your favorite piece?

NN: Collaborating on a collection for Corbett Lighting has been such an amazing experience. I knew I wanted to create chandeliers, sconces and pendants inspired by antique and vintage jewelry. By total fate, “jewelry inspired” was on the brand’s vision board. Between my drawings of ridiculous ideas and their amazing in-house design team who know how to create lights that can be manufactured at a high quality within price points that work for their customers, I have learned so much and loved the whole process. The Tragus pendant is a special one to me—I really wanted them to have “chandelier energy.” We achieved this through nesting an etched glass shade over a clear glass shade, and using three chains with an oversized canopy, to offer the feeling that you’ve got more than a single point of light coming down. I would love to see multiples of these across a kitchen island.

ID: You’ve said that part of your intent when designing interiors is to make spaces feel like they are collected over time. What does that mean to you and how do you design for that feeling?

NN: To me, the art of being an interior designer is to create magic for your client’s homes, without it necessarily looking like you were there. That magic, I think, is achieved by layering different styles and pieces from different eras (of design and literally old vintage/antique pieces) to create complete rooms that feel like they were started a long time ago and are, perhaps, still in-progress. The rooms are canvases for living, which means they could continue to evolve and gradually change over time. That’s what being “collected over time” means to me. I love this way of designing because it makes it natural—if not absolutely necessary—to thoughtfully incorporate our clients’ own belongings.

ID: Can you tell us about the clients for the Rainbow House and how you responded to their brief?

NN: Our Rainbow House clients are truly an iconic San Francisco family—loving, generous, wildly colorful, bold, and fun. Their vision board included many different explorations of technicolor spaces, and their design brief was simply: “Rainbow.” We interpreted that literally as an ombre rainbow runner in the foyer as the introduction and “welcome zone” in the house. Then, we played with maxed-out colors in different rooms, allowing the full house to feel like a rainbow of vivid hues—rather than each individual room trying to present as a complete “rainbow.”

ID: How did the Japanese Tree House project grow over time, and how did your firm respond to the expanded renovation?

NN: Our Japanese Tree House project started as an interior renovation of the kitchen and a couple bathrooms, including creating a Jack + Jill bathroom between the two kids’ rooms. The scope grew ultimately to a complete gut renovation of the house—in part because the original architecture, which was very industrial-modern, felt best preserved and incorporated into the California-meets-Japanese style intended for the house, only by really reconsidering the design of the whole home. Being able to design the home as a complete ecosystem, inclusive of floor finishes and new Japanese-inspired hidden storage, and furnishings, was a dream for our team. We were happy to rise to the opportunity.

ID: Can you tell us about the landscape for the Mill Valley Redwoods House, and how the outdoors changed the interior work?

NN: This project is uniquely a “house” composed of multiple separate structures in the redwoods of Marin County. To get from one part of the “house” to the next, you must go outside and walk through the yard! The pool house—which actually is its own separate “house” in some ways—was designed by the original architects to have two window walls that completely open up for a fully indoor/outdoor living style. This property was designed this way already, and we simply had the privilege of selecting furnishings and decor (besides the renovation we did in the kitchen and primary suite) that achieved the level of indoor/outdoor desired by our clients in each zone.

ID: How did you select specific furnishings to outfit the Mira Penthouse? 

NN: This project was inspired by the views that only San Francisco can provide: A stunning juxtaposition of the victories of manmade structures (the Bay Bridge, high rises, and beyond) and the breathtaking natural landscape of our bay, Treasure Island, and the East Bay beyond. Since our architecture in the penthouse was linear with nuanced angles throughout the home, I wanted our furnishings to echo the contours of the land beyond the windows. So, we were intentional about soft, curved sofas, organic swooping chandeliers, curvy, and boulder-shaped rugs, and even a dining table with a base that literally looks like a rock.

ID: What projects are upcoming and what excites you most about them? 

NN: Soon we’ll have a chance to photograph some of the more weirdo-traditional projects we’ve been working on for years, and I cannot wait to share these spaces with everyone. And I’m also working on my first-ever international project: a small restaurant in Edinburgh, Scotland.

ID: What would be a dream project for you?

NN: I suspect this is many a residential interior designer’s dream project, but I want to design a boutique hotel where the rooms are so different that you can specifically select which room you want to stay in. There’d be a fabulous rooftop restaurant and bar that locals and hotel guests all can enjoy together—and maybe room for a small private club.

10 Questions With… Snøhetta’s Richard Wood

Richard Wood Discusses How Snøhetta Focuses On Community

Interior Design: Why does architecture appeal to you?

Richard Wood: I’ve always liked art and architecture from an early age growing up in south Manchester; but I love architecture for its collaborative nature. I find it inspiring when different people from different companies and different places with different agendas all move in the same direction to build. There is nothing quite like designing something that really matters. It’s a vocation: You have to really feel it to want to do it professionally.

ID: How did you end up in Hong Kong?

RW: I undertook grad studies at The Bartlett School of Architecture in London—a very international school. I made many friends from Hong Kong, and I wanted to experience the city.

I applied for jobs in Hong Kong, Nicaragua, and Istanbul after graduation; when the job in Turkey came through, I worked there for two and a half years. Then, a position in Hong Kong opened up and I transferred here in 2013. I joined Snøhetta Hong Kong in the summer of 2021 and took over as managing director overseeing our Asian projects at the start of 2023 working with the team here.

ID: Your first project with Snøhetta was the mixed-use AIRSIDE complex?

RW: I joined when AIRSIDE was at the interiors and finishing stage. Snøhetta’s Hong Kong office was set up after we won the mixed use project in 2017. Hong Kong is a great spot for us as it is in the middle of Asia. AIRSIDE showcases all our strengths: We did its landscaping, architecture, and interior design for the office tower lobbies, base building provisions, and retail podium. AIRSIDE was an important project for us; we handed it over to client Nan Fung Group in 2023.

AIRSIDE demonstrates how we work. We believe in specialists; not everyone is good at everything. We swap places around the meeting table. We explore the emotions behind our client’s brief. We go through the process of seeking a bigger picture. Along the way, we learn more about what can influence the eventual design solution. For AIRSIDE, we learned through the Kai Tak community about the importance of a community garden. These amateur gardeners all want different things. They gave us new ideas that fed how we landscaped the terraces and outdoor spaces.

Now that AIRSIDE is up and running, it has much more of a lived-in community feeling. People are taking ownership. Go there any weekend; it is packed—particularly with dog lovers! It has become part of the Kai Tak neighborhood. There is a coziness to the shopping mall that is special; it’s due to the way the balustrades weave in and out, the light filtering from above, how the central atrium forms a hub. And it has won a number of green awards including BEAM Plus, LEED, Green Building Award, MIPIM Asia Awards, and WiredScore and SmartScore Platinum. It sets a benchmark for what a mixed-use complex in our region can be.

ID: Now, you are working with Swire Properties?

RW: Yes, we have a number of projects with them. They understand what we are trying to do and we understand their goals. Our values align very well. We love how they work with local specialists. They have a sustainable way of working, making it the heart of their projects.

ID: You recently completed HORIZON for Swire at Art Basel Hong Kong?

RW: HORIZON was an intimate space for people to gather during a very busy art fair. It was designed to be agile. The Kvadrat-upholstered mounds could be broken up and rearranged. It looked completely different with different settings, at different times of the day. The undulating mirror above reflected the energy below. The canopy referenced the sky as you looked out at the horizon line through the glazing of the Hong Kong Convention and Exhibition Centre. And we designed it to be future-proof; Swire has plans to install it elsewhere now that Art Basel Hong Kong is over.

Through working on HORIZON, we understood more about Swire. They really took care of collaborators like us and made us part of that art week.

ID: What other projects are you doing with Swire?

RW: We are working on the architecture of a mixed use complex in Tokyo’s Shibuya district that includes Swire’s first House Collective hotel to open in Japan. It is slated to be completed in 2027 and developed by Tokyu Group. Like AIRSIDE, we are responsible for the architecture, landscaping and retail podium interiors. The project is all about capturing Tokyo’s energy: the liveliness of the streetscape near the famous Shibuya pedestrian crossing, the quiet back alleys, and playing up that dichotomy. The form is like an open book at the base that closes further upwards, with a grand marble-clad lobby. It is intended to be a highly sustainable destination.

For Swire’s 2.5 million sq.ft. shopping mall project in Sanya, China, expected to be completed in phases starting this year, we reference the local fishing villages on Hainan Island. There is a strong pedestrian focus to the project within the context of making public spaces for the community to enjoy. We reference the tropical climate of Sanya with deep eaves and large water roofs, to emphasize its resort vibe. With sustainability our focus for this outdoor shopping experience, we inserted amazing greenery for moments of discovery. We imagined it to be like a community center; it is about making places for people.

ID: Beijing City Library reminds me of Frank Lloyd Wright’s Johnson Wax Headquarters; did you have this in mind?

RW: That’s a compliment. No, we were referencing the park that the building is sited within, but it’s not surprising that the design feels familiar. It was completed in 2023, and we did both the architecture and interiors, collaborating with different specialists from our Oslo studio. It is important to be present where we are designing, with a high degree of autonomy. At the same time, our Oslo and Innsbruck colleagues offered fresh eyes and their skill set. 

The concept is shelter underneath the canopy of trees to enjoy a good book. The interiors are designed to be a series of landscaped terraces clad in white oak looking out to the view of the park through full height glazing; at the time, the 52 ½ ft high panes we used were the tallest we could source. People find their book through the library’s digital catalogue, then make their way to their favorite niche. There are many nooks and crannies, as well as different community spaces for gatherings, meetings and events.

There was a lot of talk about public libraries’ comeback. I don’t think they ever went away. Through Beijing City Library, we explored what a library means to people today; how it can be an attraction.

ID: And Shanghai Grand Opera House?

RW: We are really excited that it’s coming together—though it won’t open until late next year. It’s south of The Bund within the Expo 2010 Houtan site in Pudong, and we are doing the landscape architecture, architecture and interiors.

The concept is based on movements in dance and a Chinese fan as it unfurls—the grand exterior spiral staircase makes going up and down a real journey. It will include three main theatres with the largest one looking out to an adjacent park. We sunk the road so that the axis allows people to walk straight out to the Huangpu River. Inside, red is a key color along the undulating balustrades.

ID: Why did you open a Shenzhen office last year?

RW: We see the Hong Kong and Shenzhen offices as one entity. Together, we have a total of 40 staff members with about a dozen in Shenzhen. Being in mainland China gives us more flexibility and streamlines the process of working on our projects across the country. Hong Kong remains the base for our Asian operations.

ID: You mentioned that Snøhetta Oslo is not your headquarters—can you clarify?

RW: Oslo is where we first started and the largest office in terms of head count. But it’s more like a mother office. Each of the locations owns and designs its projects; being localized, we are attached to them.

Since we are spread across the globe, every other year all the studios get together to climb Snøhetta. The journey is along a rock-strewn footpath and it takes several hours to summit 7,500 feet to the peak. Not everyone has to do the somewhat challenging hike; there are also gentle walking trails looping around the mountain that offer beautiful views. It’s a chance to meet and share stories with colleagues who we may only know over emails or Zoom, and to reconnect with where we come from.

10 Questions With… Designer Anne Dereaux

Anne Dereaux On How Music and AI Shapes Her Design Practice

Interior Design: Take Interior Design through your journey as an architectural and interior designer.

Anne Dereaux: I earned my Bachelor’s and Master’s degrees in Architecture from Tulane University, with my master’s thesis completed at Cornell University. For the first eight years of my career, I immersed myself in urban revitalization projects, a period that included the rebuilding of New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina—arguably the most rewarding endeavor of my professional career. When I arrived in Los Angeles in 2013, I joined an architecture firm where, in my very first week, I was tasked with meeting with the estate of one of the Beatles to oversee a renovation project. This left an indelible mark that scratched the itch I had been looking for in this field—residential design. There’s a distinct intimacy and human connection inherent in designing homes that you don’t find in other design experiences.

From there, I progressed to designing and managing projects for esteemed clients, including royal families, cultural icons, movie stars, and tech magnates, all within other firms. Even with all this, the transition to entrepreneurship has felt like starting at ground zero, given that my previous work is safeguarded by NDAs or the intellectual property rights of past employers. But I’ve been fortunate to cultivate strong relationships within Los Angeles’ tightly knit building community. Over the span of a decade, these connections have created some amazing opportunities for my new design team: Dereaux Studio (est 2022). From my personal experiences in the music industry, I’ve also connected with clients—for example, we’ve been chipping away at Victoria Monet’s home renovation for a few years now. In some ways, I think homes are a constantly evolving organism, and I like to stick with my clients through those evolutions.

ID: What inspired your Float collections and what was it like creating it?

AD: The Float collection came from a spark of imagining these seemingly heavy forms being supported by an impossibly delicate frame. There is a freedom in furniture design that isn’t present when working on buildings—you don’t have to go through the mud of permitting and all the extensive engineering coordination. 

ID: You mentioned on Dwell that you were also a musical artist. Has music inspired your work as an architectural designer?

AD: More than anything, music is what kept my creative spirit alive. When you are going through the arduous but necessary muck of learning the technical aspects of building, so little of it is what I would deem “creative work.” It’s mostly navigating personalities, schedules and budgets, and managing engineering coordination and technical drawings. 

For much of my early career, I moonlighted as a musician—at a pretty serious level I would say. I also moonlighted as a creative director at Motown Records. The beautiful part of that experience is that it established a foundation of community and a social media presence outside of architecture with the very people who became my clients when I first left to start my own company. There is definitely a layered element of storytelling that is inherent in the creation of a musical experience—the lyrics, the chords, the visuals—that ties into the way I think about spatial design. It goes back to the sensitivity of the individual human experience, and how people feel when they’re navigating the story of their lives.

ID: You started a design brand, Dereaux Studio. What work have you done with it over the years?

AD: Dereaux Studio started as a solo effort at the top of 2022, and I was able to expand to a team of three talented senior designers in July of 2023. I am obsessed with efficiency, and really pride myself on having a future focused practice in all ways, from our IT infrastructure, to the new technologies we are consistently learning and keeping up with as a small team. Generationally, millennials kind of got the short end of the stick, but in the rapidly evolving landscape of AI, I think we have the advantage. We are at the crossroads of hands-on building experience and the vast capabilities that AI brings to the table. We’re well-versed in technology, we understand the intricacies of construction, and we’re still open to embracing change. So, my team is leaning in and bridging the gap.

We currently have design projects up to 11,000 square feet ranging from Southern California to Georgia to Virginia, taking on both the architectural and interior design scope. We are also working on expanding a branch of the company to design and distribute collectible design furniture pieces, which has been one of my goals since college. 

ID: What architectural or design philosophy has shaped your work over the years?

AD: I truly believe design has to start with the human element, with how one wants to feel in a space. I love aesthetics, but at the core of the most powerful aesthetics, there is an intention of engaging and amplifying life’s most precious moments in a real way.

I’m equally passionate about democratizing good design, so we’re also dedicating efforts to developing a more affordable line of designs. We’re reimagining materials that have often been dismissed as “cheap” and transforming them into livable objects with a sense of refinement. Our inaugural creation—a reinvented inflatable chair—is currently in production and is set to make its debut very soon. It’s just the beginning of our mission to make exceptional design attainable for all.

ID: You are big on AI and the way it affects the architecture and design industry. What has been the major shift you’re noticing and how have you, as a designer, been able to weaponize it?

AD: I believe that AI brings tremendous efficiencies to design communication within a project, empowering small firms to compete on a larger scale. It allows us to swiftly explore various design languages and aesthetics, all while taking into account different building types and construction methods. What might have previously taken three months and a dedicated staff member can now be accomplished in a matter of hours. Note-taking and meeting minutes, annotating CDs—all the things that were once busy work—can now be automated, freeing up valuable time.

ID: There is a geometrical detailing in your designs especially Float, was that inspired from your background architecture?

AD: For sure, I’m always thinking in light, form, and concept versus parts and pieces. Architectural design certainly encourages a more holistic approach in that sense.

ID: Your concept of materials is very interesting. You recently designed a product with resin. Can you tell me about the project and what it was like exploring with resin?

AD: I’m fascinated by the interplay of light refractions and form. I initially envisioned that table in glass, but found resin to be a far more practical medium. It’s about a third of the weight, easy to carve, and has a nearly unlimited range of colors and transparency levels. I collaborated with a great team from Rotterdam to bring that piece to life. I love working with resin, but its cost is prohibitive for larger pieces.

ID: You also recently created a project with stones, somewhat like marble. Tell me about the project. What inspired it and your decision with the materials?

AD: I believe you’re talking about the pieces featuring natural stone and cork. Cork is such a fantastic material—it’s sustainable, lightweight, and formally versatile. I enjoy experimenting with materials that are typically overlooked in the realm of “fine art,” and like to use tools of design and reinvention to redefine their potential.

ID: What are you currently working on at the moment?

AD: I’m finishing up construction administration for Victoria Monét’s home and a couple houses in Malibu, starting up a few new projects in Los Angeles, a cabin in Georgia, a home in Virginia, and pushing on the furniture! Staying busy, and thankful for it all.

10 Questions With… Roberto Palomba and Ludovica Serafini

Ludovica Serafini: When you are young, you both have the same tastes even if you have different experiences. So it’s quite natural to share the same dreams. After so many years, we still share the same vision. We want to innovate, not to change things or shock people, but just for the sake of innovation. We don’t want to live in the comfort zone.

ID: What were those early days of the firm like?

RP: In the beginning, we were working on small projects with small brands. But then, we started to be conscious about the quality that we worked with. We began designing bathroom products and some of those innovations remain as the standard worldwide. It was crazy. We started from a design vision plus an architectural vision.

LS: Another important part of our job was always thinking about sustainability in design. From the beginning, we were using sustainable materials. The second product we designed was a recycled aluminum table. And this year, we designed a huge table for Kartell also using recycled aluminum with a recyclable ceramic slab as a top. You can lacquer the aluminum and glaze the top the same color.

RP: It’s not a matter of using a green coat. We just designed a shower with brass made of more than 80% recyclable aluminum. We’re also using fabric made from plastic from the oceans, and we know where it’s coming from. When we first started, bathrooms were not at all designed by designers—even the journalists didn’t want to publish our designs. They don’t publish toilets! And then a few years later they said, “This is amazing!”

ID: Speaking of Kartell, when did you start working with them?I

RP: It’s been more than ten years. I had met Mr. Claudio Luti in Moscow and said I would like to work with you. I’m very shy and never do this, but Kartell is a very important brand, with an industrial vision that’s close to how we think. They said no thanks because they already had designers. But after a couple weeks Mr. Luti called us back and said I know you’re great in bathrooms, how could I expand my business in bathrooms? I said that you need some confidence; you can’t just make things just using plastic. We designed something using ceramic, and some years we used metalwork, which was super successful. The collections for Kartell were challenging, but they were great. And this year, we’ve made a little sofa. It’s a love story.

LS: The relationship with brands is not just a matter of sharing design, it’s becoming a family. We talk to them almost every day. The ideas don’t just come from a brief; they come from a discussion.

RP: The idea to share a vision with the designer and the designer to not think they are God—it’s an intimate connection where it is not my design or theirs, but ours.

ID: And what do you do when you both disagree with each other?

RP: We fight for five minutes and then she makes the decision. She’s the boss.

LS: That’s not true!

RP: The only real problem now is time. Sometimes when we have no time, I don’t want to say you’re nervous, but you have to be quick in arguing and solving. But this is good! Being a male and being a female is good because we give two different sides of the coin. And our studio has a lot of young people with interesting viewpoints to share.

ID: What was the brief for the LA ROQQA project?

LS: It was very difficult! The owner was very specific about the project. Creating a hotel experience today is not just about making a nice hotel—the problem was finding out what to add and what to take out, because an experience is made from a balance of adding and removing.

RP: Today, boutique hotels have become showrooms. It’s like grabbing a shaker, putting in some design and making a cocktail—this could be a daiquiri or a vodka-tonic, and you just substitute the name of a designer. But it’s not a matter of how you shake together some goods. It’s about how you make the experience, which depends on the nature of the building and the countryside.

LS: When you’re working with an existing building, you have to create a new dream and a new function. When you’re renovating a house, it’s different because it’s already a house. But here you are giving it a new soul.

RP: You can see when a place has or does not have a personality—whether it’s a showroom or design—since what they are missing is a soul. When Café Cost was destroyed, we missed a moment of the history. Public spaces like Cipriani should be kept as a heritage landmark.

LS: We have to behave like we’re creating a movie and put all these elements together, not just for decoration.

ID: How do you create a space with a soul?

RP: By studying the bones and the body. It’s like Frankenstein’s Monster.

LS: When you’re designing a hotel, it’s a place and a building; it’s historical and contemporary. You have to know what kind of people the place is for.

RP: We design for the people who are going to use it. When we design a table, we think about how it’s made, what it costs, and how it will be used. So, we start with the body and then we add the electricity—that is our competence in putting together what we’ve learned. We have so many chairs and so many hotels, so why do something new? The reason is only to be better, which means the new place will have a soul.

ID: What is the soul of the Casa Piana project?

LS: It’s not a precious building, but it’s in Salento and the soul of that place is the materials and the light.

RP: It’s a place between two seas, and like all the places between two seas, there is a special reflection of light. It’s very important.

LS: There were some historical elements that are very nice so we kept it, like some of the wood. In this region, the problem in a building is that is has to be protected from the light.

RP: You arrive at the top of a staircase in a small courtyard with a structure with an iron frame; it was very basic but crafty. Though it was not as unique, it was precious, so we kept it. Houses have a special roof on the top, and we put in a kitchen there.

ID: How did you decide what kind of a life should be on the roof, and what should be below?

RP: Design always starts from the people who are going to live there. Food in Salento is basic, but the kitchen is the core of the house. In the summertime, you don’t cook since it’s too hot. But in the evening, everyone stays on the roof and cooks together. This is the job of the architect, to understand where the life goes and the flow that makes the life easy.

ID: What is flowing down the pipeline for you?

RP: We just had 17 launches at Salone… I’m very happy about the outdoor collection we designed for Talenti. And we worked on a collection with Fendi Casa for a few years, working with the colors and materials.

LS: We were working with DNA of that brand, in which the structure of a sofa was not made of standard cushions and did not just look like their bags translated into a sofa.

RP: Sometimes the fashion brands are too connected and we don’t see that as good design—like a shoe becomes a cabinet. This is a pattern we see everywhere. But we need good furniture that brings the brand’s values into real design. A chair is a chair and has to respect the laws of a chair. So when you design for Poltrona Frau, it’s different from Zanotta. The brands have their own values. You have to use their values as an ally, not as an enemy.

ID: And how is your summer looking?

LS: I will be exploring Sicily.

RP: I will be waiting for her in our home in Salento, sleeping and eating a lot and getting large like a cow!