Double vision Whether it’s a luxury abode, a church or a train station, Wong Mun Summ and Richard Hassell, the dynamic duo at WOHA are pushing the boundaries of design. It is such projects – technically challenging but with some greater good in mind – that have, over the years, not only garnered the pair much success but also defines their style. They prefer to let the aesthetics emerge through the creative process and create objectives that evolve around the requirements of each project. “We’re quite interested to see where the client’s vision will push our vision and come out with something different,” says Hassell. In fact, this pragmatic desire to suppress their creative ego in favour of other forces – their clients, the public or the environment – is a recurring and dominant theme in the WOHA story. In an era where ‘starchitects’ like Norman Foster, Daniel Libeskind and Zaha Hadid are stamping buildings with their unique styles, the founding architects of WOHA represent a very underrated flipside. “We try to avoid style because it’s a real trap. If you develop a house style, people start approaching you for that and you can’t innovate,” says Hassell.

The new severity From fashion to furniture, design has taken a more understated turn as consumers seek a respite after years of excess. Call it a reflection of the current sombre economic mood or a natural progression after an era of overindulgence, but gone are the days of bling and over-the-top designs. A new desire for simplicity and sense of responsibility are emerging from fashion runways to restaurant dining rooms. Nowhere else is this newfound sense of minimal aesthetics more noticeable than in the fashion world. Designers, like any other business people, are aware of what is happening around the world, which means catering to a consuming public less likely to open their wallets. The result is products that will give the customer more bang for their buck. This idea of understatement and quality plays into the dining experience as well. Diners are “starting to focus on better produce, but keeping a lot more down-to-earth,” said Ryan Clift, partner and chef of Tippling Club. As the world bids farewell to the whirlwind years of extravagance and indulgence and embraces the ideals of quality simplicity, maybe Chan expresses the mood best — “If something is simple, subdued and understated, it lasts longer.”

Star-studded career Thank God for Joel Robuchon. Literally. For it was in his early years studying at a seminary that he learned to work a kitchen. Today, Robuchon, with 25 Michelin stars, to his name – the most ever awarded to one chef – could not be further away from those days in the hot and dank basement. The man commonly acknowledged as the “Chef of the Century’’, thanks to a 1990 accolade from the revered restaurant guide, Gault Millau, has 18 fine establishments which bear his name. “There is no great secret to success,’’ he insists, when I ask him about his magic touch. “It just happens when high quality food is combined with an impressive atmosphere and outstanding service.’’ And despite the awards, trophies, recognition and success beyond his wildest imaginings, Robuchon, 63, remains grounded and real — the very epitome of what his cuisine represents. Just as he shook the culinary world in the 1980s by eschewing the excesses of nouvelle cuisine in favour of a heartier authenticity centred on tastes and flavours — his signature dish is mashed potatoes (pommes puree) after all!  —  he himself insists that cooking is really, simply, about love and passion.