 | | The Dispatch | | Nº131, March 2025 | | | In partnership with Carl Hansen & Søn | | Founded in Denmark in 1908, Carl Hansen & Søn specialises in crafting furniture that brings visionary design to life. The brand produces iconic works by renowned Danish mid-century masters such as Kaare Klint and Hans J Wegner, all crafted in Denmark. Be sure to visit the Carl Hansen & Søn flagship stores in Singapore, Tokyo and Osaka. |  | | | From the Editors | | Dear reader, When was the last time you got naked with a group of strangers? For a lucky troupe of Design Anthology readers, a late-night onsen in a snowy Japanese valley was the icing on a rather enjoyable cake — one that was a little experimental for us at Design Anthology — but by all accounts, turned out pretty well. In case you missed our earlier missives, last month saw the first-ever Design Anthology Retreat take place in Karuizawa. With its architectural pedigree, the Japanese resort town has long been favoured by well-heeled Tokyoites for their second homes and hideaways. Our tightly edited guest list joined us from Brisbane, Honolulu, Singapore, Jakarta, Hong Kong and beyond, and included photographers (the below pictures are courtesy of the talented Guo Jie Khoo), architects, writers, founders, publishing-world friends and even a geologist. Over four nights, many meals, talks, tours — and yes, the odd onsen — new friendships were formed as we made Shishi-Iwa House our own second home. | | | 'This is Ban-san's favourite room when he stays,' came the welcome from Daichi Ogihara, Shishi-Iwa's general manager, as he showed me to my second-floor guestroom. Tree-filtered light danced on the hinoki tub, with the pitched ceilings and perfectly framed forest belying the off-kilter layout of Shigeru Ban's House No.1. There was much talk of Ban and Ryue Nishizawa — the architects behind the properties — but for our guests, intellectual enrichment was almost a secondary feature. The intimacy of living in close quarters allowed for moments of camaraderie, with the communal spaces that punctuate the guestrooms holding the coffee, our shoes and impromptu chit-chat, just as Shishi-Iwa's founder, Huy Hoang, our charming host for the week, intended. Community, in the truest sense, was our mantra in Karuizawa — something we talk about often as a media brand and something Hoang values just as much in his deeply personal hospitality venture. Despite our remote setting, guests still fielded the odd conference call with headquarters, keeping the wheels turning on business back home. But ensconced in the woods it was easy to ignore the call of the working world and focus on the forest, the people and the moment. Join us next time, as I'm certain you'll appreciate the adventure and, more importantly, the lasting friendships. Elsewhere in the Design Anthology universe, our new issue will be landing on newsstands shortly — including, as always, in Milan for Salone del Mobile. Keep an eye on your inbox for more but in the meantime, The Dispatch offers its own expedition, with stops in Bangkok, Bangalore, London and Tokyo. Enjoy it and we look forward to seeing you at our next gathering. Jeremy Smart
Co-Editor-in-Chief | | | Vernissage | | Rising from the Ashes | | Bangkok | | Art space Bangkok Kunsthalle has become one of the city's most significant contemporary art spaces, and is igniting Southeast Asia's scene with its original approach | | | Bangkok Kunsthalle defies all expectations of an art institution. In place of a slick, starchitect-designed edifice stands the bones of a former printing factory in the city's buzzing Chinatown, its insides razed by a massive fire in 2001 and abandoned thereafter. 'The broken building retained a certain majesty,' says the institution's co-founder, Thai-Korean art patron Marisa Chearavanont. 'Even the soot had created a beautiful patina that was reminiscent of Pat Steir or Lee Ufan's paintings.' She decided to purchase the brutalist building and save it from being torn down by developers. Her next move was to call on former Hauser & Wirth director Stefano Rabolli Pansera. 'Many who visited the building discouraged me from buying it, except Stefano,' she says. 'He felt the exact same way about the space.' Bound by a singular vision, the duo updated the site with basic amenities like air conditioning, toilets and lifts, but kept everything else in its weathered state. This is because Chearavanont and Pansera see themselves as caretakers who are looking to 'heal' the building rather than restore it. 'Any restoration would mean imposing our architectural vision upon the existing building,' says Pansera. 'Instead we're domesticating the building, floor by floor, and each artist modifies their work based on the building's parameters and history; the building, in turn, is changed and transformed by the artworks.' | | | Artists are invited to make site-specific works that speak to the complex and its surrounds, such as French video artist Michel Auder's Bangkok Yaowarat, which was filmed near the Kunsthalle. Sharing the same spirit, Thai artist Korakrit Arunanondchai incorporated the building's ashes into his tenebrous installation about decay and rebirth, Nostalgia for Unity (pictured bottom). At Bangkok Kunsthalle, the architectural intervention and curatorial programme are one and the same. Chearavanont and Pansera have also adopted a whole new approach to art education, with a focus on participation and production. The community is consistently included in the Kunsthalle's initiatives: Yoko Ono's Mend Piece installation (pictured above), for example, invited visitors to piece ceramic shards together in a communal setting. The latest programme, featuring the late Sino-Thai artist Tang Chang, is the restoration of his calligraphic works from the 1970s, giving visitors an unprecedented, intimate look into the process. 'It's a paradigm shift from a typical presentation of the product to a showcase of the production process,' explains Pansera. By reimagining traditional means of exhibiting art and exploring experimental works across disciplines, Bangkok Kunsthalle is helping put Thailand on the map as a dynamic hub for cultural production. 'There's a pool of amazing local artists waiting to be discovered,' says Chearavanont, 'and we hope to combine all our resources to position Bangkok as a centre for contemporary art.'
Text by Joseph Koh | | | Home | | The Warmth of a Dark Palette | | Bangalore | | FADD Studio applied a unique colour theme to this family home, showcasing the timeless appeal of dark materials and considered textures | | | A dark, monochromatic scheme may seem like a daring, experimental choice, yet it exudes natural opulence and intrigue. Such is the case with this 400-square-metre Bangalore home, designed by Farah Ahmed Mathias and Dhaval Shellugar of FADD Studio. Along with their design team, comprising Monica Taparia and Jeenesh Nahar, the studio embarked on a 'dark and mysterious' concept to naturally highlight the architectural and antique elements, softened by a muted tonal palette. 'We wanted a solemn palette to create a unique backdrop against which the client could showcase his family antiques,' says Mathias. "The aesthetic leans towards Indo-Scandinavian, a wonderful canvas for traditional South Indian heirlooms. Given that we were working with the marble provided by the builder, along with the upholstery and paintings that were part of the home, we decided on black veneer walls and smoky ash ceilings to complement the furniture, accessories and art.' The theme is established right from the foyer, realised in ebony-stained veneer. The brutalist brick staircase, set on taupe marble, forms the core of the design language. To its right sits an open-style Poliform kitchen. 'A kitchen so close to the entrance is a concept most Indians would hesitate to adopt, but it was welcomed by the clients,' notes Mathias. The kitchen is completed with dark oak veneer, dark grey glass elements and a charcoal countertop. | | | The tranquil dining room is anchored by a Bello marble-topped table from Marble Italia, paired with Dumbo chairs from Cattelan Italia. Above floats a Zeppelin light by Flos, a striking contrast in both colour and form to the rest of the room. A light ash ceiling extends seamlessly into this space and the living room from the entrance. A curved sofa in warm ochre, a chocolate and mustard-checked rug and handcrafted objects from Claymen by Aman Khanna punctuate the space. To add further dimension to the monochrome scheme, the wall behind the television is finished in black fluting. Upstairs, the theme continues in the main bedroom, where a black and white bed is complemented by long, dark pendants. In contrast, the daughter's bedroom offers a softer, more playful aesthetic, with gentle pink tones. The study and dressing area integrate soft, organic forms, incorporating leftover stone to create a cohesive and sustainable design. 'The overall theme is calm and meditative—a space where time seems to slow down,' says Mathias. 'As if life pauses for just a moment to enjoy the peace.' Text by Aditi Sharma
Images by Gokul Rao Kadam
Styling by Samir Wadekar | | | | | | 'The overall theme is calm and meditative — a space where time seems to slow down, as if life pauses for just a moment to enjoy the peace.' | | | | | Dossier | | Ship Shape | | London | | New brand To My Ships launches with a concise range of fragrance and body products, balancing global ambition with a personal touch | | | Daniel Bense's new venture is a somewhat borderless exercise. 'It's a global brand from the very beginning, and we know there's a customer out there for that,' the 39-year old founder of To My Ships tells Design Anthology. 'It has its origins in Australia, everything's made in France, the supply chain is European but its head office is here in the UK.' But for such an international endeavour, the company has a strong sense of provenance. Bense wanted his supply chain to be as close as possible. 'The furthest afield things come from is Poland for glass, which they've always been excellent at making. Otherwise it's coming from Germany, or Italy for plastics, Spain for aluminium and labels made in Italy.' For the fledgling brand, ensuring there's a personal touch to both the customer-facing experience, as well as the back of house, was essential. 'I'd go to Neal's Yard Dairy and get this one type of Pitchfork Cheddar and I'd take it across to the manufacturer,' explains Bense. 'When you're in the Basque Country meeting an aluminium supplier that's outside of Bilbao, they genuinely appreciate it. They've just taken you to this local taverna and given you a traditional lunch. It's about trying to do real business with real people and build a relationship. And the more you can do that, I think, the better it works,' he says. The brand has launched with just three products: an eau de parfum, a deodorant, and a hand and body wash. Both of the latter are sold in reusable containers, with generously portioned refills available to order. There's an elegant simplicity to the solutions to many of the practical and environmental challenges facing a new brand. Bense commissioned Milan- and Rotterdam-based studio FormaFantasma to develop both the packaging and brand identity, resulting in a utilitarian material palette of aluminium and glass, with a soft, hand-drawn wordmark resembling a human signature at its heart. There's a rejection of the venture capital-type branding that dominates the space: To My Ships has a sort of poetic honesty, using language that speaks of 'wilful eccentricity' and an intention to 'address the inelegance of garish smells'. Naturally, Bense has bigger ambitions and has already considered much of the localisation that would be necessary to retail in non-English speaking markets. 'We've already built in, on the backs of every label, all the translations required for usage, warnings and everything you'd do at a much bigger company,' he says. 'We're trying to be as ambitious as possible. It's a new brand, but we want it to have a level of substance and weight to it.' Text by Jeremy Smart | | | Architectonics | | Ground Work | | Tokyo | | Reviving the spirit of its 1966 predecessor, the newly opened Ginza Sony Park redefines the public park as a fluid, multi-level space for art, culture and community in the heart of Tokyo's Ginza district | | | When Sony co-founder Akio Morita unveiled an eight-storey showroom in the heart of Tokyo's upscale Ginza district in 1966, one special feature turned heads: a space open to the public, where the community could gather, connect and be inspired, dubbed Garden of Ginza. This innovative spirit of openness, then a rarity in the corporate cosmos of Japan's rapid post-war economic growth, firmly took seed and decades later, has now blossomed into a new project on exactly the same site: Ginza Sony Park. The new-generation hub, which opened in January, aims to expand on the Morita's dreams and reimagine the concept of a public park, filtered through a playfully experimental modern perspective. A concrete network of open spaces, angular and abstract, provides a contemporary creative backdrop for installations, pop-ups, exhibitions and wider explorations in fields such as art, music, cuisine, technology and design. Ginza Sony Park is the latest chapter in a long-running urban experiment. The original 1960s Sony Building — a famed landmark — was transformed into a park in 2018 for three years, during the construction of the current project. The temporary park, which cleverly spanned multiple subterranean floors plus a ground-level space, attracted more than 8.5 million visitors, according to Sony, despite coinciding with the pandemic. Now the latest iteration is complete: an urban mesh of juxtaposed concrete structures, underpinned by a sense of openness, with its consciously low-rise height ensuring it harmonises smoothly with its buzzy urban setting. | | | The Ginza Sony Park project was helmed by Daisuke Nagano (pictured, above left), president, representative director and chief branding officer of Sony Enterprise Co, who neatly sums up its spirit in three words: inviting, unique and open. 'Ginza Sony Park is designed with the concept of being "open to the public",' he tells us. 'It seamlessly connects the interior and exterior, naturally inviting people walking in Ginza to come into the building. By standing lower in height than the surrounding buildings, it also creates a sense of openness in the city and serves as an urban park that generates a new rhythm for the city and its people.' The idea of openness is tangible from the start, with a blurred threshold between street and interior immediately inviting visitors to enter the space and delve more deeply. Inspired by the idea of an urban corridor, a modern spiral staircase creates a connective vertical flow through every level of the building, from B3 (home to Nibun no Ichi, a casual dining venue run by Ginza Sony Park and one of the few permanent features) all the way to the fifth-floor rooftop. While exploring the multi-level structure, a harmony of concrete textures and shades, with curved stairs, walkways and slopes, it soon became clear that key to its architectural anatomy are the elements of emptiness. Visitors and their interactions with the park — some resting, some pausing for coffee, some queuing for an exhibition — ultimately complete the space. As Nagano explains, 'Ginza Sony Park doesn't have any external tenants or showrooms — it's composed of open spaces and activities. In these open spaces, visitors can spend their own time for relaxation or meeting up with friends, while the ever-changing activities aim to provide emotionally impactful experiences with each visit. It not only generates a unique landscape among the luxury brand shops of Ginza, it also reflects our efforts to take a step into the future of urban development.' Text by Danielle Demetriou
Images courtesy of Ginza Sony Park Project | | | Magazine | | | | Issue 39 | | | | Our current print issue delivers a global tour of the most interesting new design, style, travel, art and architecture stories from Asia Pacific and beyond | | | | | | | | | | | | |
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