DESIGN FORCE
Revered Milan gallerist Nina Yashar on creative impulses, the politics of taste and the joys of working with living designers.
Revered Milan gallerist Nina Yashar on creative impulses, the politics of taste and the joys of working with living designers.
Volare Due bed designed by Roberto Lazzeroni
Great design is a source of endless fascination for us at Kay & Burton, from the feelings it can inspire to the efficiency boost it can provide, as well as its capacity to articulate a distinct outlook on life. We have worked alongside many of this country’s preeminent architects, decorators, stylists, feng shui consultants, art procurers and lifestyle managers to help homeowners enshrine their values and enhance their quality of life through precisely considered design solutions—and we’re still uncovering more about the power of design every day.
In this edition of The Luxury Report, we have taken inspiration from the energy of design exhibition season in Europe to profile the people, projects and events bringing beauty and fresh thinking to the world around us. For our cover story, we visit Milan to learn how internationally esteemed design dealer Nina Yashar honed her impeccable taste in everything from furniture and rugs to fashion and contemporary art (p32). We also delve into the creative processes of two product design luminaries whose works occupy pride of place in Yashar’s collection: poet of lighting Michael Anastassiades (p17) and avant-garde talent Bethan Laura Wood (p48).
Peeking inside one characterful bayside home in Sydney (p22), it is clear how location-sensitive interior design can foster the sense of security, contentment or creativity that tend to be strong motivators for anyone embarking on a property acquisition or renovation. This certainly rings true from my current vantage at Kay & Burton’s spacious new headquarters in Toorak. With the business having called South Yarra home since its inception, this move marks a critical point in our evolution as well as a re-grounding of our relationship with this storied suburb. Our friends at Powell & Glenn have truly set a benchmark with the design of our office and networking spaces—and we cannot wait to show you around.
Beyond the visual harmony we naturally crave, clever design plays a pivotal role in ensuring the robustness of our economic systems and social structures. On p42, founder-turned-funder Todd Forest (of NAB Ventures) takes us through his approach to hunting down and scaling up the next big thing in tech. We also bring you a prestige property market report, containing frontline insights from our consultants across greater Melbourne and an update on Sydney’s rise to rival the super-prime real estate hubs of Geneva and Paris.
We are, as ever, eager to hear your ideas for future publications and hope this one provides you opportunity for repose and reflection amid the hustle and bustle, much like a well-designed home.
UNEARTHING POWER
Behind the scenes of the stirring multisensory exhibition that 'de-mapped' Australia's colonial past at this year's Venice Biennale.
06 THE SHORTLIST
This time we are coveting celestial quartz lights, fire-treated furniture, holographic barware and small-batch tequila.
10 NOBLE AMBITION
Meet the young Lebanese biochemist in charge of one of the world’s oldest cellars at Bordeaux’s Château d’Yquem.
14 HOPING FOR A SOFT LANDING
Economist Alan Oster unpacks the good and bad news for Australian residents, including property sentiment and the cost of overseas travel.
17 DESIGN IN DIALOGUE
Lighting maestro Michael Anastassiades reflects on discipline and the point at which product design becomes art.
22 COASTAL REFLECTION
Peek inside an acclaimed Sydney interior design project where the decor mirrors the curves and flow of the seascape.
30 CITY GUIDE: MILAN
Ahead of a new JK Place hotel opening in Milan, the chain’s founder waxes lyrical about the city’s bars, museums and design haunts.
42 THE HUNT FOR INNOVATION
As the technological landscape evolves, so too does the realm of venture capital investment and the quest to find unicorn companies.
52 THE POWER OF PURPOSE
How and why today’s biggest philanthropists are helping to fast-track solutions to the major societal issues of our time.
60 OUT AND ABOUT
Marvel at a treasure trove of astonishing objects, diarise the hottest restaurant openings, catch jazz royalty in concert— and more.
London-based Bethan Laura Wood brings her unique approach to pattern and materiality to the Women in Design series at the NGV.
The Melbourne Now design exhibition has matured over 10 years to become a respected showcase of Australian thinking and making.
Hotelier Ori Kafri shares the personal experiences that have informed his definitions of kindness and success in business and travel.
Discover how the luxury watch market is setting its own pace with an artisanal approach to design modifications.
NAB
Alan Oster Group Chief Economist
John McLeod
Director, JBWere Philanthropic Services
Todd Forest Managing Director, NAB Ventures
KAY & BURTON
Ross Savas
Managing Director
Peter Kudelka
Executive Director
Gowan Stubbings
Executive Director
Alex Schiavo
Executive Director
Scott Patterson
Executive Director
Tom Barr Smith
Executive Director
EDITORIAL
Managing Editor
Luke McKinnon
Editors
Emma Pegrum
Carlie Trotter
Art Director
Aaron Dunn
Writers
Paul Best
Leanne Clancey
Lachlan Colquhoun
Will Cox
Catherine Gillies
Victoria Gomelsky
Freya Herring
Grace O’Neill
Anna Snoekstra
Mariela Summerhays
Design Stories we tell
wall projections of landscapes.
A symbol of colonialism, the structure is accompanied by a series of immersive sounds, voices and images that reveal concealed stories of community, Aboriginal toponymy and the hidden places of a precolonial Australia.
By Anna SnoekstraIn its ninth exhibition at the Venice Biennale, the Australian Institute of Architects subtly unpicks the fabric of colonial identity.
The copper-tube replica of the Empire Hotel in Queenstown, Tasmania, frames Photography by Tom RoeThe theme for this year’s La Biennale di Venezia is ‘The Laboratory of the Future’. For Lesley Lokko, curator of the 18th International Architecture Exhibition, it is more than just a theme; she sees the exhibition itself as a futuristic laboratory, a unique environment where discussions and imaginings about the importance of the architecture field can unfold.
From the creative directors appointed to lead Australia’s exhibition—Julian Worrall, Emily Paech, Anthony Coupe, Ali Gumilya Baker and Sarah Rhodes—the response is Unsettling Queenstown, a multisensory exhibition that seeks to ‘de-map’ Australia’s colonial past and reimagine its future. At its centre is a huge, haunting, suspended wire model of a belvedere tower constructed of copper tubing—a 70 per cent-scale replica of the Empire Hotel in Queenstown on the west coast of lutruwita (Tasmania). It serves as a symbol of colonialism and is accompanied by a series of immersive sounds, voices and images that reveal concealed stories.
Worrall, a professor of architecture at the University of Tasmania, has long pursued a multifaceted inquiry into ‘alternative modernities’ in architecture and urbanism. His work has been mostly focused outside of Australia, specifically Japan, so this project allowed him to recentre locally. He teamed up with Paech, senior designer at Adelaide architecture firm Mulloway Studio, who took on design, fabrication and coordination.
From there, Paech formed a dream team with Coup, Baker and Rhodes. Coup is a former president of the South Australian chapter of the Australian Institute of Architects currently undertaking a PhD in spatial storytelling. Baker is a multidisciplinary artist guided by Mirning heritage, a lecturer, and member of First Nations academic-artist group Unbound Collective. Rhodes, meanwhile, is a photographic artist who explores the relationship between the natural environment and an individual’s inner world.
Paech says: “The exhibition is inspirational, evocative and a representation of the diversity of contemporary architectural thinking.” She adds that the act of imagining the future could not come without first acknowledging the traumas of the past. The team saw the 2023 Venice Biennale as an opportunity to open a conversation about Australia’s built and natural histories, leveraging the latest architectural intelligence around decolonisation and designing with Country.
The installation explores these themes of decolonisation and decarbonisation through the construct of Queenstown, a place name used in various former British Empire territories including Australia, New Zealand, Asia, Africa and the Americas. In fact, there is a Queenstown on every continent bar Antarctica. Although the focus is on lutruwita’s Queenstown, a copper-mining town on the island’s west coast, Queenstown is also treated conceptually—at once highlighting how the imperial hangover is pervasive in every corner of the globe, and inviting decolonial thinking. It serves as a symbolic intersection where the traumas of the past are transformed into the driving forces of the future.
A series of Rhodes’ photographs are also displayed, depicting barren mountains, a polluted river, and abandoned structures in the lutruwita town; reflections of the environmental and social toll of an extractive relationship with nature. These photographs, along with the representations of de-mapped Country are part of a broader archive also containing soundscapes, videoscapes and other ephemera exploring themes of temporality and narrative, offering possibilities to reimagine the future and transcend the confines of our inherited Queenstowns.
Unsettling Queenstown is displayed in the Denton Corker Marshall-designed Pavilion of Australia within the Giardini della Biennale until 26 November. unsettlingqueenstown.org
Mangiafuoco collection. Design and alchemy intersect in this clever new collection of coffee tables by Italian pioneers Zanellato Bortotto. Aptly titled ‘Mangiafuoco’ (fire-eater), the collection is crafted from natural copper coated with vitreous powder, a reactive substance that spawns a spectrum of startling colours when exposed to fire. Handmade with precision, each piece is enamelled, showcasing the many tones and shades generated by the nuances of the copper. The result is a series of vibrant, bronze-rimmed tables with distinctly luminous surfaces. POA. moroso.it
Maralunga 50 armchair. Since 1960, Italian manufacturer Cassina has partnered with prolific Milanese designer Vic Magistretti to create exceptional furniture that blends traditional skills and contemporary design. To celebrate the pair’s five-decade-long collaboration, Cassina has released an exclusive edition of one of Magistretti’s most iconic pieces: the Maralunga armchair. Originally winning the coveted Compasso D’or award in 1979, this elegant design retains its signature tubular frame, while a vibrant new red colourway elevates the soft leather upholstery. A piece of timeless craftsmanship that represents an extraordinary chapter in Italian design. $18,350 on order until the end of the year. cassina.com
Patrón Serie 3 tequila. With just three bottles available to purchase in Australia, the Serie 3 Añejo tequila from Patrón defines rare, collectable liquor. Each bottle holds a 14-strand blend of Mexico’s finest artisanal tequilas. Individually aged up to eight years in American and French oak barrels, the result is a sumptuous Añejo mix that boasts a sweet, smooth taste of dried fruits, spices, intense wood and sherry. The decanter is handcrafted by crystal experts Lalique and each bottle arrives individually numbered and signed by the company’s artistic and creative director. From $11,000. Available in-store at Dan Murphy’s Double Bay and Lane Cove (NSW), and Prahran (VIC).
02.Living to the Max — Opulent Homes and Maximalist Interiors. Discover some of the boldest, brightest homes and interiors from around the globe in a new book that exalts excess and asserts that ‘more is more’. Sure to inspire even the bravest design projects, this colour-soaked 256-page hardcover is an invitation to explore around 30 one-of-a-kind maximalist spaces and extravagant classical interiors. Alongside the striking photography and saturated palettes, the book provides a peek into the personal stories of the passionate designers and owners who curate each space, producing a perfect guide to inspired interior design. From $98. gestalten.com
K.P.D.O. Reo drinks trolley. Multi-award-winning Melbourne architecture and design studio K.P.D.O. is bringing a touch of professionalism to your next home-shaken martini with its latest piece of furniture. Inspired by modernist architecture, the Reo drinks trolley fuses simple design with elegant materials, blending rigorous detailing, effervescent colours and expressive materials in a complex and compelling union—not unlike the perfect cocktail. POA. mobilia.com.au
06. Wales Bonner x adidas Originals Samba sneaker. Having released collaborative footwear with adidas over several seasons, British fashion label Wales Bonner has returned with another fresh take on the iconic Samba silhouette for SS23. A highlight of the new collection, this one comes in patent gunmetal tones with exposed stitching and Wales Bonner text over the heel counter, while the signature adidas three-stripe logo is expressed in DNA-like stitching, representing the enduring symbiosis between the two brands. $1140. farfetch.com
‘Wings of Pegasus’ lights by Christopher Boots
First created for the Hermès holiday vitrines program in New York, this showstopping installation from Melbourne lighting designer Christopher Boots is a masterpiece of mythological proportions. Shown recently at Melbourne Design Week, the whimsical wings continue Boots’ exploration of the relationships between architecture, symbology and crystalline geometry, here recalling the story of Greek god Pegasus. Crafted from natural clear and gradient quartz crystal, the wings stretch to a 1.5-metre wingspan and feature brass and bronze finishings. Available in pendant and sconce iterations. POA. christopherboots.com
In just two years, Toni El Khawand has gone from intern to cellar master at iconic Bordeaux wine house Château d’Yquem. His quick rise is grounded in a lifelong love of sweet wines.
– Interview by Paul BestAt first blush, Toni El Khawand is not who you would immediately think would be in charge of winemaking at one of the world’s great wine labels, the 400-plus-year-old Château d’Yquem, located in Sauternes in the French wine region of Bordeaux.
For a start, the newly appointed maître de chai (cellar master)— lean, angular and just 30 years of age—was born a world away from the famous gravelly terroir of Bordeaux; in Lebanon. He seems almost too young for the role, but more than that, he has only been at the wine house for two short years; since Chateau d’Yquem first hired him as an intern.
In fact, El Khawand only arrived in France in 2016 to study phytochemistry (the branch of chemistry concerned with plants and plant products) and oenology (the study of wines) at the University of Bordeaux, having completed pharmacy and biochemistry degrees at Saint Joseph University in Beirut. But, as he points out, there is a thread connecting Sauternes and El Khawand’s history: his own family, who had vineyards in Lebanon, made sweet wines, which gave him an appreciation of them from a young age.
Already, the softly spoken cellar master seems to have made a significant step in his short tenure at the top, having taken the reins in 2022 for the vineyard’s first organically certified vintage.
El Khawand was recently in Australia for a whistle-stop tour to promote the release of the 2020 vintage of the fabled sweet drop —a blend of semillon and sauvignon blanc varieties infected by the
botrytis cinerea fungus known as noble rot and dubbed ‘nectar of the gods’. It’s also the first vintage he worked on with his predecessor Sandrine Garbay.
He made a headline visit to the Royal Mail Hotel in the Victorian township of Dunkeld as guest of honour at a lunch in the hotel’s hatted restaurant, Wickens. The gathering celebrated the restaurant’s recent selection as Australia’s sole member of the new Chateau d’Yquem Lighthouse program—an honour bestowed on just 45 venues worldwide.
Here, El Khawand shares what it’s like working at one of the world’s legendary wine houses.
PB You’ve had a meteoric rise, has it been daunting?
TEK It’s been very fast: an intern in 2020, then assistant to [previous cellar master] Sandrine Garbay in 2021. When she left in 2022, I was put in charge of vintages. I was cellar master, but it was unofficial until January this year. I was ready for the challenge. I’d worked two years with Sandrine, made two vintages with her, the 2020 and 2021. She taught me a lot and prepared me for her departure someday. It came sooner than later.
PB How was your interest in wine born?
TEK I come from a family in the mountains who had vineyards. My grandfather raised me with a love of land, told me how to manage
a vineyard, how to make wine. In the late 1980s, with the war and late arrival of phylloxera in Lebanon, the vineyard disappeared. I was born after that, so I never saw my grandfather making wine, but he always talked about the vineyard and wine and his wish to one day replant.
PB Do you recall when you tried Château d’Yquem for the first time?
TEK It was 30 January 2020, in the tasting room of Château d’Yquem, as a visitor. It was a revelation of what could be the essence of wine, the most noble and true form of it. It’s a wine that could last forever.
PB What do you think Château d’Yquem saw in you?
TEK I was a researcher with the same background as my predecessor. It gave me the scientific rigour needed at Yquem. Making Yquem is a very delicate process.
PB What’s the thinking behind the Lighthouse program?
TEK Launched in March 2022, the project aims to open new doors by serving the latest vintage of Yquem by the glass [from six-litre Imperial bottles] in special venues around the world that share the vision of Yquem. It’s a way to connect with younger consumers who don’t know sweet wines at all.
PB Is this because sweet wines have suffered declining sales in recent decades, particularly among younger drinkers?
TEK For older generations, drinking Yquem is an occasion, a moment to share with friends in a beautiful place. They know the wine; a lot of others don’t. We’re trying to ensure the continuity of Château d’Yquem for the long term. We thought because we had 500 years of history and are the only [sweet white wine] Premier Cru Supérieur in Bordeaux that everything’s going well. But we can’t produce the best wine in the world if we’re not pragmatic, if we don’t understand the environment around us and how it’s evolving. That’s why we created the Lighthouses. Like the name indicates, they’re here to make the colours of Yquem shine again and in the eyes of the people who don’t know it even exists. In time I will be gone, but Yquem must remain Yquem.
PB Most people think of Château d’Yquem as a dessert wine—is it true you’re encouraging restaurants to pair it with a signature savoury dish?
TEK That’s the ‘new door’. As a young wine, it can be paired with many things other than dessert. We don’t have to eliminate foie gras or any of the other clichés of sweet wines. We want to show people you can also drink Yquem as an aperitif, alone, or with savoury ingredients.
PB What do you like to eat with a glass of Chateau d’Yquem then?
TEK A fire-roasted chicken is my favourite pairing with a 20-year-old Yquem, and a blue cheese selection with a 40-year-old.
PB Traditionally, Château d’Yquem was considered best after 50 years, but the Lighthouse program suggests cellaring isn’t essential?
TEK For the past 30 years, our wine has been accessible when it’s younger. Before that, we used to age wine four years in barrels; now it’s two years in new French oak. Yquem is [certainly] drinkable at a tender age. Maybe the wine is at the peak of its expression and complexity after 50 years, but it’ll be very different. It’s another wine; another colour, aroma, aromatic profile, another everything. Importantly, it’s still very good after two [years].
PB What can we expect from the newly released 2020 vintage?
TEK The vintage was very hard. We lost a third of the harvest from mildew in June. Between ripeness and development of noble rot, we had a month of dry and sunny weather. A dry wind in mid-October saved 40 per cent of the harvest. It was a miracle. It produced this fresh and delicate blend like a Mediterranean garden—jasmine and orange blossom. It’s very good for a Sauternes. The 2020 Château d’Yquem Y, too, is the best since 2010. More complete, more complex. We have fruitiness and freshness in mouth and have some salinity in the aftertaste.
01. The Château d’Yquem Lighthouse program sees select restaurants pair original dishes to the iconic wine for a unique tasting experience. 02. Wickens diners get the opportunity to discover the highly coveted Sauternes while taking in the breathtaking Grampians scenery.PB Where does ‘Y’ fit in?
TEK It’s another expression of the same terroir, same vines, same grapes. But the blend is the opposite: the majority is sauvignon blanc grapes rather than semillon. This I like to pair with fresh fish and lobster.
PB The 2022 is your first vintage in charge?
TEK It is, but there are four in my winemaking team and seven on the tasting committee who decide the final blend of semillon and sauvignon blanc.
PB It’s also the first vintage certified organic?
TEK Yes, Château d’Yquem was officially certified in August 2022. We’ve been converting to organic for the past three years. Previously, the vineyard had a lot of organic production without being certified. Yquem has never used chemical fertilisers or herbicides. The soil was always mechanically worked to eliminate weeds and fertilised with manure from [our own] cows.
What’s changed is the treatment of mildew with copper rather than chemicals. Also, we no longer treat the wine [before bottling] with enzymes that break down the polysaccharides that the botrytis produces in the wine.
01. Under the cellar's grand vaulted ceilings, new barrels are used every year to ferment the wine. These are crafted from the finest stave oak harvested from the forests of Eastern France.PB What does the 2022 look like?
TEK It’s a special vintage. We had a heatwave from May to October, which is good, although you worry about a lack of acidity. But first tastings are very promising. Historically, good vintages have hot and sunny Octobers and even hot and sunny summers. For example, 2005, 2015, 2019 and 2021 vintages were hot and dry. ‘Y’ also will be good for 2022, I can be sure of that now.
PB How do you spend your time when you’re not making wine?
TEK I research and preserve the natural, agricultural and historical heritage of my ancestral village and region for the new generation. I also relax by going to the summit of a hill or mountain where I have a panoramic view that broadens my horizons. Or I’ll go on a hike, work in my garden or on my family vineyard in Lebanon.
PB You mean your grandfather’s vineyard, the one wiped out in the 1980s?
TEK Yes. I am replanting it using the very same local white grape varieties: merwah, helwani, kassufi, meksasi. My aim is to preserve the family's land and our local and unique varieties.
PB What other wines do you like to drink?
TEK I drink red wines from Saint-Emilion, La Rioja, or Château Musar and SaintThomas in Lebanon, and whites from Burgundy. I also like the sweet wines of Pantelleria, and vin santo of Greece and Italy.
PB But they’re not Château d’Yquem. What makes it superior to other stickies?
TEK It’s in the unique diversity of soils on the hill of Yquem, the difference in altitude between summit and foothill and strong winds promoted by this topography, allowing a faster concentration of grapes during harvest. It’s also the pursuit of excellence in every step of the winemaking, at the expense of making some vintages, like 2012 [the first time in 20 years that the house decided not to go ahead with a vintage].
Château Yquem is available by the glass and in more than 18 vintages in The Royal Mail Hotel’s Wickens restaurant and famous cellar. royalmail.com.au
Global growth is slowing and the US heading for recession, but Australia may just escape the worst of the chill. While higher interest rates and inflation create trouble for many, others will unearth opportunities at the bottom of the asset price cycle, writes NAB group chief economist Alan Oster.
The good news is that, while the Australian economy will experience a serious slowdown, its reputation as the lucky country is likely to hold firm. If the US is not already in recession, it is likely to get there soon, while our neighbours in New Zealand are almost certainly in recession already. The UK, Europe and Japan are also heading that way.
Global economic growth of 2.8% might sound reasonable but outside of Covid and the GFC, we are in the worst year since 2002. One positive—if we can be parochial—is that the Australian economy will not be as badly affected as everywhere else, and the downturn should not be as severe as it had the potential to be.
The not-so-good news is that Australia’s soft landing will not feel all that soft for some families. Those who saddled up on debt when interest rates were at record lows in 2021 are now hurtling towards the so-called fiscal cliff, when their fixed-rate mortgages are going to be repriced. The peak of the runoff for those mortgages will be in the second half of this year.
Even if the Reserve Bank of Australia stopped raising its cash rate beyond the current 4.1%, the mortgage market is typically three months or so behind with its own rate hikes, meaning mortgage rates likely have another 1% or so to go, just catch up. Beyond that, we now expect the RBA to add a further 50 points—bringing the cash rate to a peak of 4.6%. That would take many variable mortgage rates above 7.5%, adding around $2000 per month to a $1m home loan compared to 12 months ago.
This means a lot of potential pain for a lot of people already struggling with cost-of-living pressures. Inflation might be coming down but the Consumer Price Index was at 7% at the end of the March quarter, and rents and energy prices are only moving in one direction: higher. I expect core inflation to be near 4% by the end of this year and then nearer 3% by the end of 2024.
Australian economic growth is clearly slowing— NAB is forecasting 0.5% for this year, lower than the RBA’s estimate of 1.5%—as consumers rein in spending.
This flatlining will likely continue into early next year. Warning signs dog the retail sector; commodities might come off recent highs; and China’s reopening will not offer much support. Even if Chinese growth hits 5.5%, it’s not going to be the big driver it was in the past.
That said, very modest growth in 2024 could give way to normal growth in 2025 with inflation back inside the RBA’s 2-3% target. And the forecast slowing domestically might well throw up some medium-term opportunities.
People who are not highly leveraged and have managed to maintain high incomes, or still have reserves of cash, are well placed to take advantage of what is a low point in the asset price cycle. For these Australians, now is a good time to think about investing for the long run. Sectors exposed to e-commerce, including warehousing and logistics, as well as high-tech manufacturing and health, are all likely improvers as growth rebounds.
In relation to residential property, we have a situation where the market appears to have bottomed and prices are rising even though interest rates hikes are biting. A key reason for this is migration. The long-term average for migration is around 160,000, but this year the forecast is for 480,000 people, then 300,000 in 2024. These arrivals all have to live somewhere and this demand will keep rents high, flowing through to house prices in turn. Plus, up until recently, consumers thought the RBA was nearly done.
At one point, we were expecting a fall of 11% in house prices across the nation this year, but at NAB we have now revised that to a far less dramatic fall of only 4%.
Longer term, we are expecting prices to move up to an annual growth rate of around 5% per annum. This is good news for homeowners, enabling those with lower mortgages to enjoy the ‘wealth effect’ that often comes as house prices rise. It will also save many of those who bought in the recent boom from the dreaded situation of negative equity.
As for the $4.2m federal budget surplus announced in May, we once again see that instead of the budget affecting the economy, it is the other way around.
Looking at the structural budget deficit, which takes out the additional revenue the economy is adding to the federal coffers, we can ascertain that the budget will essentially go sideways over the next three to four years. So, the latest budget wasn't a big help, but it hasn’t hurt either.
As for the main indicators, NAB’s growth forecast for 2023 may be lower than the RBA’s but we have inflation coming down faster. We see core inflation reaching 3% by the end of 2024, while the RBA says it will take until the middle of 2025 to get there. Unemployment will inevitably rise as the economy slows, to 4.3% in late 2023 before rising further to around 5% by late 2024.
The AUD, at 67 cents against the USD at the time of writing, is likely to appreciate to around 73 cents, in part reflecting a recession in the US this year (an environment where the USD will fall against most major currencies). That will make holidays in the US a little more attractive for those of us who are on the right side of the soft landing and in a position to take advantage of the unique opportunities on offer.
In summary, though the coming 12 months will be tough, rates will be cut to nearer 3% thereafter and the economy will return to growth near trend (around 2.3%) in 2025. By then, the inflation rate should be back in the RBA’s target range and unemployment a touch below 5%. That is a very positive medium-term outlook.
The information contained in this document is gathered from multiple sources believed to be reliable as of the end of June 2023 and is intended to be of a general nature only. It has been prepared without taking into account any person’s objectives, financial situation or needs. Before acting on this information, NAB recommends that you consider whether it is appropriate for your circumstances. NAB recommends that you seek independent legal, financial and taxation advice before acting on any information in this document.
Someone once said a great hotel is a memorable hotel. More than just a place to stay, it should be an opportunity to be taken away... to escape to another place.
Once home to Melbourne’s original luxury automobile showroom, the new Royce Hotel is inspired by the age of hotel glamour; a luxury escape where opulence is expected and indulgence encouraged. Guests and visitors alike can relax into the ebb of a lavish breakfast (with optional flowing Champagne), enjoy spacious rooms or come out to play and dine in the Parisian-style courtyard.
Reimagined and revitalised, the new Royce Hotel is now open.
London-based Michael Anastassiades shares some of the influences that lead him to create lights that border on fine art.
– Interview by Grace O’NeillGO What motivated your pivoting from civil engineering student to artist to designer?
MA My parents’ idea that having a career as an artist was a little bit doomed [motivated me originally]. Then, when I graduated from the Royal College of Art I was creating objects that questioned the role of design in our lives. There was a long period of creating experimental projects—what later became known as ‘critical design’. It wasn’t until I started producing pieces for my own home that I realised I really enjoyed designing for industry. When I launched my brand in 2007, I became more and more focused on lighting.
01. The Blue Skies table lamp is masterfully crafted from silver and a bamboo Tosa-Shi paper reflector. The light is projected up from the silver base on to the paper shade creating a reflective, soft glow across the disc.
02. The Ta-Ke floor lamp is constructed from unprocessed bamboo to demonstrate how the plant grows almost perfectly in a straight line. Selecting the perfect piece is “essentially an exercise of negotiation with nature”, comments Annastassiades.
GO People struggle to characterise your work as either fine art or design—does that binary bother you?
MA I think there’s an inability to grasp something creative and let it exist in whatever capacity it wants to exist. There’s a need that people have, if they don't really understand something, to put it in boxes that will make it easier for them to consume. When I moved into industrial design, my process didn’t change.
GO How does consumer culture impact your approach?
MA From very early on in my career, people have been questioning: “How sustainable are your products?” “Can this be recycled?” And I always think, why do you need to go through the process of recycling something? You should design things for life. This is actually against every kind of notion of consumerism. At the end of the day, that's what we need to focus on.
GO What inspired the Peaks pendant lights and Relay floor lamps you debuted at Milan Design Week?
MA We’re exploring some playful ideas with these collections. There’s this idea of repetition, of playing with shadow and light. What does the piece look like when the lights are off? This is something that I’ve always addressed, because a lamp is off for 80 per cent of its life, and therefore has to exist like a sculptural object. But then you turn the light on and everything changes. For Peaks, the grading of the light against the cone is very different when it’s turned on; it's actually reversed when the light is off.
GO You’re famously disciplined - does a creative person need to be disciplined to produce great work?
MA I pretty much started my studio straight after graduation, so the only way that I could develop into what I am today was through discipline and hard work. The last two years have been the most overwhelming I’ve had in a very long time.
Come inside a celebrated 1900s waterfront home newly updated to fuse outside and in through serene colour choices and nature-inspired textures.
Photography ANSON SMARTWhen the view from your house looks like a painting—a pastel sky colliding with deepest blue ocean, flanked on either side by majestic headlands, its base a sliver of pale sand against frolics of bushland—how on earth do you decorate the inside? Do you choose to contrast the interior, or go the other way entirely and try to emulate the vista?
Turns out, if Ultramarine House in Sydney’s Mosman is anything to go by, you show off the panorama in all its finery, bringing a little of it in with quiet accents, rather than totemic
booms. It's this subtle but also kind of genius approach that saw Sydney design studio Decus shortlisted at the 2023 Australian Interior Design Awards.
“The owners lived on the Balmoral slopes for a number of years and feel very connected to the beachside location,” says Alexandra Donohoe Church, founder and managing director at Decus. The family of five, including three teenagers, had been used to a strikingly modern home; “a very contemporary, glass and steel box structure,” she explains.
In contrast, Ultramarine House was built in the early 1900s in the Federation Queen Anne-style, representing a real shift in aesthetic.
Donohoe Church worked alongside Luigi Rosselli Architects to transform the building into a fourbed, five-bath house and the result is peaceful, open and flooded with natural light. The overarching ethos, she says, was about “encouraging a connective tissue between the outdoors and indoors”.
Take the primary bedroom on the first floor. Overlooking the watery scene, a curved bedhead in stained American oak cocoons those sleeping within its folds. “The custom bedhead which hugs you is a bit of a theme in our projects,” Donohoe Church says. From the bed, there are wide, almost celestial views, and—with no onlookers—total privacy all at once. Art is everywhere, and the bedroom sees works in aquamarine paired with natureled features like Christopher Boots’ Petra I Triple sconce in quartz. In the ensuite, superbly wavy, ethereal Cipollino Verde marble “throws either green or grey tones, depending on the time of day”, explains the designer. “It mirrors the colours of the beach and headlands.”
It’s a theme that reaches its apex in the main living area. European oak floorboards lead the eye to a generous terrace overlooking lush Middle and North Head, Robert Plumb’s undulating outdoor furniture calling one to go outside and linger. The furnishings inside are soft and inviting—an oversized, impossibly cushy Living Divani sofa contrasts against vintage finds like Pierre Paulin’s architectural, cantilevered Artifort F444 chair, while Decus’ bespoke slatted joinery echoes the wave sets rolling into the harbour outside.
The kitchen, with its focus on tactility, is one of Donohoe Church’s favourite spaces. “The concealed and integrated pulls have a sinuous curved profile which are just exquisite to touch,” she says. The kitchen island, worktops and splashback are crafted from Montreal brushed granite, textured with mottled, almost oceanic tones. And rather than opt for the popular multi-pendant aesthetic to light the space, Donohoe Church chose Garnier et Linker’s sophisticated tubular Lutetia pendant, which is almost like a strip light, rethought and beautified. “It exemplifies understated elegance for me,” she says. “When you get up close, you discover this chalky, textured plaster finish with the most perfectly machined brass endcaps. It doesn’t scream at you; it’s more of a gentle whisper in the background.”
Objects around the house—Mass Productions’ curvaceous Puddle coffee table in the sitting room, alongside Giorgetti’s Hug armchair, in all of its sumptuous curves and flowing timber bars, for example—complete a scene that nods to the surrounding seascape without sinking into facsimile. The home is evidence that the best way to create an interior connection with the outdoors is to channel the feeling rather than duplicate. At Ultramarine, the inside and outside flow together—harmonious, calm and breathing the same air.
If the popular parlance ‘if you know, you know’ could be crafted into a boutique hotel brand, JK Place would be it. Here, group co-founder Ori Kafri details the origin of his extended hospitality and the design ingredients that set his properties apart.
On speaking with Italian hotelier Ori Kafri (pictured top), it’s immediately clear he is deeply passionate about many things, but in business there are two qualities that occupy his focus: considered design and wholehearted hospitality.
Getting his first taste of the industry as a student while interning at a five-star hotel in the 1990s, the Florence native says he was immediately drawn by the allure of the luxury hotel world and the opportunity to play a meaningful role in his guests’ experience.
Today, as chief executive of JK Place—a collection of townhouse hotels with addresses in Capri, Rome, Paris, and soon Milan—Kafri has become a true master of the art of hospitality, but considers his role to be more akin to a tailor than a mogul. “I often say the big brands like Four Seasons, Ritz Carlton and Marriot are like the Gucci, Prada and Armani of the hotel world, whereas I JK Place is more like Savile Row,” he muses. “On Savile Row you get a one-on-one relationship and it’s personal. Everything is made-to-measure and fits you perfectly. This is also what JK Place stands for.”
Renowned for their impressive locations, sophisticated interiors, low-key seclusion and meticulous attention to detail, JK Place hotels achieve an atmosphere that is at once opulent and welcoming. Intimate (with fewer than 40 rooms) and responsive to the cultural nuances of the surrounding locale, the properties feel like discreet private residences—complete with tasteful art, thoughtful home comforts and a band of amiable, genuinely hospitable staff.
When the first JK Place opened in Florence in 2003, Ori and his father Jonathan (to whom the ‘JK’ initials belong), together with longtime business partner Eduardo Safdie, called upon the talent of celebrated local architect and interior designer Michele Bönan. Fast-forward two decades and the creative partnership has proven both fruitful and enduring, with the pair currently in the throes of designing the 38-room JK Place Milano, which is set to open in the heart of the city’s fashion district in 2024.
Here, Kafri discusses the design philosophy that has driven the success of JK Place for more than 20 years while establishing a global benchmark for personalised hotel experiences.
LC What inspired you to approach business and the guest experience the way you do?
OK My first pivotal experience was in the summer of 1998, when I did my internship at a hotel in Florence. I don't want to be dramatic, but what I experienced for the first time was really something very special: to welcome and engage with people from all over the world; to connect with them, to open your heart and be their guide. As a concierge, you become your guest’s main point of reference. You give them the keys to open all the doors of the city. To see their gratitude, their happiness, was extremely rewarding. Still today, I find it very special to make guests happy and be part of their journey. This was what drove me to be into this business—the human connection.
LC And how did that translate to starting your own chain?
OK Before we opened our first hotel in 2003, a hotel in Amsterdam had really caught my attention. It was an exclusive private guesthouse on the canal with just seven rooms called Hotel 717. I had some free time before a flight so decided to visit. I rang the bell and this very nice gentleman welcomed me in. I had no reservation, no appointment, I just wanted to have
a look around, out of curiosity. This gentleman made me feel like I was King Charles coming from London, like he was expecting me. He gave me a tour of the hotel, sat me down, gave me a map of Amsterdam, and then served me tea and cookies. As I was leaving, it was raining outside, so he gave me an umbrella. Then, when I asked for the cheque he said, "Oh, no, no, you're my guest." I said, "But why?" He replied: "Because we are a small house with no budget for advertising but we are happy to offer a coffee or tea for visitors like you to give you a sense of our hospitality so that maybe next time you will be our guest." The gentleman, who has sadly since passed away, was named Henk de Lugt and when I opened my first hotel in Florence I called him and said, “Please, you have to come to Florence to teach me and my staff how to be so hospitable.” He helped us establish the culture of service that JK Place is now known for.
LC Many hotel brands talk about personalised service but don’t always deliver. What powers your approach?
OK I read a quote recently: “Service is black and white, hospitality is colour.” It’s a very simple analogy but precisely what I'm trying to do every day. There are protocols and there
are standards; this is service, it's black and white. But hospitality is something different. It's something which needs to come from your heart, it's something that comes from appreciating that each person in front of you is different, with different needs, a different life story, a different culture. You cannot really standardise this and make it into a protocol, but in hotels, this is where things really start to become a point of difference, and that's what people love about our hotels, I would say.
LC What’s an example of how JK Place does things differently?
OK We really like to nurture a one-on-one relation with our guests. For example, we don't have electric key cards—we have only physical keys. This means that each time you enter and leave the hotel you're ‘forced’ to go through reception to pick up and leave your key. If there is interaction, I can talk, I can ask questions, I can find ways to look after the guest and make their stay special. If they can walk in and out without passing by, there is no service. Because of our size and having a comparatively small number of guests in our hotels, this kind of service is manageable.
01. The dining room of the Roman residence has a denlike ambiance with its plush teal banquettes and red leather chairs.
02. The inviting library lounge is the perfect place to recharge before exploring the Eternal City.
03. JK Place Paris evokes an art collector’s home with its mix of antiques, custom furnishings and design objects.
04. Rooms in the opulent 7th arrondissement townhouse were individually designed by Michele Bönan.
05. Guests at the restored 19th-century villa in Capri enjoy mesmerising views across the Gulf of Naples.
LC Can you tell us about your long-term collaborative relationship with architect and interior designer Michele Bönan?
OK What is unique about working with Michele is that he puts himself in the position of the guests and truly understands the lifestyle. He knows exactly what a guest who is sophisticated and well-travelled—like him—is looking for and expecting. He knows what the necessities and priorities are, whether you are staying in the mountains or by the beach in Saint-Tropez, or in the Maldives or on a boat. He’s not just a designer with good taste, his expertise goes so much deeper than that. He's gifted like few people around the world.
LC How do you work together to achieve your creative vision for each hotel?
OK When we find a location and start planning a new hotel, it’s like writing the script of a movie. We love to explore the idea of telling a story for each place, to understand what the guest experience will look like—from when they first arrive in the city, to arriving at the front door of the hotel, to where they will sit when they arrive, every tiny detail. The brand is built around the idea of creating spaces that feel like the private residence of a well-travelled gentleman, ‘Mr JK’. Michele will ask me to explain all my needs in terms of practicalities and technicalities, back-of-house spaces, breakfast rooms, things like this. We talk about layout to understand how functional it will be for delivering service. Then it’s a puzzle putting together this brainstorm of ideas. Everything should link back to the imagined design scenery or atmosphere.
LC What's next for JK Place?
OK Our next hotel will open in Milan some time in the next 18-24 months. It's in a beautiful location in the former offices of Versace, kind of hidden and quiet but close to everything, similar to our hotels in Rome and Paris. You're in the centre of the city but you don’t have to be seen. It feels like it’s for locals, very understated. Other cities are always a possibility but nothing certain just yet. The other exciting news is that we are celebrating 20 years of JK Place in 2023. To mark this occasion, we are publishing a book about our story this June.
jkplaces.com
Decidedly more modern and progressive than Rome and Florence, Italy’s design and fashion capital holds an understated elegance that can be seen in everything from its beloved sartorie tailoring workshops and renaissance architecture to its buzzing aperitivo culture.
As you wander Milan’s streets, you’ll find a wonderfully eclectic blend of new and old: cutting-edge apartment towers alongside ancient cathedrals; classic midcentury bars neighbouring art nouveau-era cake shops; 80-year-old trams rattling past the newest, shiniest Ferraris.
For hotelier Ori Kafri, who is soon to open his latest outpost in Milan’s fashion district, the city is Italy’s most ‘European,’ with an ambitious attitude and unique style. Here, Kafri shares some of his favourite Milanese experiences.
How often are you in Milan?
At the moment I am travelling to Milan at least once a week. The journey is just under two hours by train from Florence so is very easy.
Where to for breakfast?
For coffee I like to go to a very classic and traditional pasticceria and bar called Sant'Ambroeus in Corso Matteotti – a local institution serving beautiful pastries and cakes. For lovely pastries and impeccable service, I might also opt for Marchesi 1824 (the original location on via Santa Maria alla Porta, in Magenta), a beautiful pasticceria founded in 1824 and now part of the Prada group. For cornetto [croissant] or Kranz (a delicious legacy of the Milan’s AustroHungarian past), I go to Pasticceria Cucchi, a gourmand institution from 1936 that still captures the almost-lost atmosphere of “old Milan”.
Is there a must-try local dish you seek out? The traditional dishes I love are risotto and veal Milanese (breaded veal cutlet).
If I had to recommend where to eat them, I would say La Latteria in Via San Marco; it’s one of the few places where the tradition of these dishes is properly respected. Other favourite restaurants?
Giacomo Bistrot is a magnificent French bistro in the centre of Milan. Owners Laura and Roberto [architects Laura Sartori Rimini and Roberto Peregalli] have created a reassuring atmosphere that
Ori Kafri shares his tips on where to eat, drink and wander in Italy’s design capital.
always manages to make you feel at home. Seafood restaurant, Langosteria is the ideal atmosphere for every occasion. The owner, Enrico, is a real star.
Any notable bars you would recommend? Bar Basso is an atmospheric cocktail bar dating back to 1933. A pioneer of cocktail culture, it is famous for inventing the Sbagliato [aka ‘wrong Negroni’] in the 1970s. Dry Milano is another superlative bar—a unique venue with an unusual pairing: extraordinary pizza and exquisite cocktails.
What is one of your favourite neighbourhoods to explore? The Brera district in the Centro Storico has an elegant Milanese charm lent by its historic architecture, theatre and pedestrian streets.
What makes Milanese buildings unique? One surprising thing about Milan, which has always fascinated me, is the interiors. At first glance the city appears quite closed, with not so much to see from the street. The aesthetic heart of the houses and buildings tends to be the inside; when you go inside you discover that Milanese courtyards are some of the most beautiful places in this city.
Any must-visit places for art and design? Among my favorite museums are Pinacoteca di Brera, a hidden gem filled with Renaissance and Baroque art; and the Pinacoteca Ambrosiana, founded in 1618 and home to centuries' worth of paintings, sculpture and drawings; these are both museums to which I periodically feel I have to return. I also love the Prada Foundation, and Milan’s house-museums, from Villa Necchi to Casa Boschi di Stefano, Casa Nardoni, Palazzo Poldi Pezzoli, and Casa Manzoni.
What would a perfect day in Milan look like for you? Probably my perfect day would be to make sure I don’t miss a nice breakfast at Sant Ambroeus, lunch at Casa Cipriani and dinner at Langosteria—and in between, shopping. This is also what my wife would love to do without hesitation.
NOW WELL INTO HER FIFTH DECADE IN THE BUSINESS, NINA YASHAR BOASTS AN EXACTING CREATIVE EYE THAT HAS MADE HER AN ICON IN THE DESIGN WORLD. GRACE O'NEILL SPEAKS TO THE NILUFAR GALLERY FOUNDER AT MILAN DESIGN FAIR ABOUT CREATIVE IMPULSES, THE JOYS OF WORKING WITH DESIGNERS WHO ARE STILL ALIVE AND THE POLITICS OF GOOD TASTE.
There is something decidedly regal about Nina Yashar. Perhaps it’s the setting in which we meet—Nilufar Depot, Yashar’s sprawling three-level, 1500-square-metre design showroom-cum-art-gallery in Milan. It might also have to do with the way people treat her, from the hushed reverence of her well-dressed assistants to the feverish intensity of the fans who ask her for selfies during our time together. Or it could be as simple as the way Yashar carries herself, her signature silk turban worn with a bold magenta architectural cape by Comme des Garçons and towering Prada sandals. What’s clear is that Nina Yashar— from her slow, deliberate movements to her measured Italian lilt—is a woman who commands respect.
If the Italian design world had anything resembling a sovereign, Yashar would be it. The 66-year-old has established herself as one of the most exacting tastemakers in Milan; no small feat in a city that lives and breathes design. We meet during Milan Design Week, also known as Salone del Mobile, when more than 370,000 people descend on the city. Nilufar Gallery, the legendary studio Yashar founded in 1979, is among the most essential stops on a schedule that lists thousands of exhibitors. In the hours before my interview with her I visit the space alongside a group of interior designers. Battle-hardened from a week of endless showroom visits, all three practically melt when they crossed paths with Nilufar, cooing and cawing at the singular splendour of Yashar’s curation. Set on the trendy Via della Spiga in the heart of Brera, Nilufar Gallery contains five rooms, including ‘Chez Nina’, a hidden upstairs bolthole curated specially for Salone.
Showcasing her ability to blend contemporary and vintage, the minimalist with the unapologetically bold, Yashar’s galleries are a kind of visual feast that demand an extended period of immersion to properly digest. In one room, we spot a set of walnut and black leather chairs by Italian designers Afra Bianchin and Tobia Scarpa (part of the Nilufar Vintage collection). In another, a chandelier of signature cone-shaped lights by contemporary British designer Joe Armitage. Elsewhere, there’s a custom modular sofa by David/Nicolas in plush emerald velvet; and a spectacular dining table made of handpainted acrylic, a glorious palette of orchid pink, seafoam green, and rich cobalt by Filippo Carandini. “It’s just so good,” I hear one of my companions mutter to themself, under the awning of a selection of sustainable lighting installations made to mimic tree branches dancing in the wind, created by the young Italian designer Maximilian Marchesani.
Yashar’s journey to design began in childhood. She arrived in Italy aged six, when her father—an oriental carpet dealer—relocated the family to escape the political turmoil that was engulfing their native Iran. The enduring impact of Yashar’s country of birth remains present in her work. “It’s something that’s in my heritage, in my blood,” she explains. We are tucked away in a quiet room in Nilufar Depot, the second Nilufar location, which Yashar opened in 2015. “Persia has always been the mother of culture, one of the most important cultures… For Persian people, everything was about ‘the house’: the art, the objects, the collections. This is a part of my DNA.”
Yashar has no distinct memories of loving design in childhood—she didn’t artfully curate her bedroom, for example. But she was inspired by her father’s work, and followed him into the carpet trade. She was just 22 when she launched Nilufar (named after her sister, whose name means lotus flower in Farsi), specialising in antique oriental and European carpets. She spent the next decade developing a sterling reputation and may have stayed in carpets for the rest of her career, were it not for a fortuitous trip to New York City in the late 90s. “We were there researching antique carpets, and suddenly I discovered a carpet that was like nothing I had ever seen in my life,” she recalls. The carpet was Swedish, a midcentury piece, and upon seeing it Yashar instinctively booked a ticket to Stockholm. “I was supposed to stay for three days, but after one day, I had already bought more than 20 carpets,” she laughs.
Her love affair with midcentury design had begun. To fill the remaining days, she started investigating vintage furniture, and stumbled on a “huge garage” full of midcentury Scandinavian pieces. “I didn’t know anything about it, so I started buying some Swedish historical design pieces. They were so cheap compared to carpets that, for me, it was quite easy to make a quick decision because it wasn’t a big investment.” A testament to Yashar’s eye, which was then untrained in the world of furniture, all the items she picked out turned out to be important pieces by masters of Scandinavian design Alvar Aalto, Hans J. Wegner and Bruno Mathsson.
“Persia has always been the mother of culture […] For Persian people, everything was about ‘the house’: the art, the objects, the collections. This is a part of my DNA.”
“I later found out the Alvar Aalto piece was a wardrobe he designed for the Paimio Sanatorium,” Yashar says, referring to the former tuberculosis infirmary in southwest Finland that Aalto designed in 1929. “It’s something so minimal, so simple. I don’t know why, but I was attracted to it. And when I came back, I was so surprised by the story of this piece. Because it’s curved, it’s wide, it’s simple, but it was for people who were going to hospital. It’s raised 50 centimetres off the ground, and the way you hung clothes in it wasn’t practical. I don’t know why, but aesthetically I just decided [I needed] to buy it.”
Those pieces—now highly valuable and still a part of Yashar’s personal collection—became the basis of a groundbreaking show at Nilufar Gallery in 1998, Tappeti svedesi e mobili scandinavi. The exhibition brought together midcentury Scandinavian furniture and juxtaposed it with Middle Eastern carpets from the Nilufar archive. It marked the beginning of a new chapter in Yashar’s creative life.
In 2005, Yashar made another bold career pivot, deciding to put antique and vintage collecting on hold in order to jump head-first into the still-emerging world of contemporary design. This was preGFC, when a trend was emerging of newly wealthy finance bros investing millions of dollars in contemporary art and hanging the pieces in “poorly decorated homes", Yashar says. She saw an opportunity to educate this
clientele that contemporary design was just as valuable as contemporary art. Art Basel Miami, then still in its infancy, was to be the centre of this re-education.
Yashar championed the early work of London-based Italian designer Martino Gamper, purchasing his now-iconic 100 chairs installation in 2006. A year later, the pair worked together again on a risky project that saw Gamper “re-appropriate” pieces of furniture designed by Gio Ponti for the Hotel Parco dei Principi in Sorrento. There were fears the end result would be seen as sacrilegious to the great master, but Gamper’s pieces, unveiled as part of that year’s Art Basel Miami, were a huge hit, even earning the acclaim of Ponti’s family.
“My real passion is always to find new creators,” Yashar says. “It’s not always easy, because sometimes I can see the origin of a future project, but sometimes [the creator] doesn’t really know the power of their idea. So, my work is […] the advice that I give to them, and those conversations really nourish me. It feels like giving birth to something.”
Above all, what everyone wants from Nina Yashar—her private clients, the young creators who consult with
01. Armchairs and low table from the Basilian series by Afra and Tobia Scarpa (Italy, early-1970s, manufactured by B&B — Compagnia delle Filippine division) atop Martino Gamper carpet (Open Edition).her, the brands that tap her to curate their spaces—is access to her taste. Which brings us to an inevitable question: is that level of good taste learnable? What is it that gives a person the ability to pick an Alvar Aalto out of a room of furniture before they have even learned who Alvar Aalto is? Nowadays, popular wisdom dictates that there’s no such thing as ‘good taste’; a person either likes something, or they don’t. The French say 'des goûts et des couleurs, on ne discute pas' (we don't discuss taste and colours), but this mentality feels decidedly rosetinted and doesn’t quite chime with reality. If there’s no such thing as good taste, then surely it would follow that there is no such thing as good art.
It’s a question that has long divided artists. The French writer Delphine de Girardin called good taste “modesty of the mind”, while British poet Edith Sitwell dubbed it “the worst vice ever invented”. The philosopher David Hume attempted to rationalise good taste in a 1760 essay in which he argued that one could only possess good taste if they displayed the following characteristics: discernment, practise, comparison, common sense, and the absence of prejudice. Of course, he also admitted that unyielding class structures dictate that only a small number of wealthy, educated people are ever given the opportunity to develop these characteristics. Still, there is something dissatisfactory about Hume’s analysis. Yes, wealth and social privilege go hand-in-hand with elitist notions of good taste, but there is also some ineffable other thing that people with truly great taste possess. Something that transcends class, access to education, and money. Something that transcends the rules of aesthetics altogether. Miuccia Prada has it (more on her later), David Lynch has it, Chloë Sevigny has it, Rihanna has it, Nina Yashar has it.
“It’s innate,” Yashar says, succinctly, casually. “You’re born with it.” If we accept the working theory that each of us is born with a specific, pre-ordained purpose, then hers is to take seemingly disparate objects and bring them together to create beautiful spaces. “It’s about creating balance and harmony, which is often the result of a very antithetical situation,” Yashar explains. “It’s a very difficult experience. There is no specific recipe to do that. The first thing is the idea of choosing what you really like, and then the combination is something very personal.” Yashar references one of Nilufar Depot’s recent exhibitions with American artist Lola Montes Schnabel (daughter of
Julian). “She was so enthusiastic because she told me, ‘This is the first time I don’t see my work in a white cube.’ She liked the combination of an orange work of art with a pink wall and a red chandelier. She said, ‘I never could have imagined putting these things together, but there was so much harmony.’”
Still, Yashar says her natural good taste has been well-honed by years of experience. “Every time I’ve had a difficult situation over the years […] it’s given me a big experience in improving my taste,” she explains. “I care about the scenography of every single space. I become very obsessed by it. Usually, I’m working many months in advance, but this year [for Salone], something very different happened; I didn’t schedule in advance, and we had 28 spaces to curate in the Depot alone. So many things happened at the last minute but I really enjoyed it. I followed my instincts, and I surprised myself.”
It's true the Depot is looking particularly spectacular this year. The space is a silversmith’s factory reworked by architect Massimiliano Locatelli to imitate the Teatro alla Scala in Milan, opening on to a cavernous, industrial-style panopticon. During Salone, it’s filled with pieces from Poikilos, a show created by Elena Petaloti and Leonidas Trampoukis of the Athens-based design studio Objects of Common Interest. Exploring iridescence through an homage to the ancient Greeks, the work sees large-scale abstract sculptures made of glowing resin fill the atrium. Elsewhere, a new selection of abstract lamps by Michael Anastassiades (read our interview with him on page 17) is styled with a series of iconic vintage pieces by the Italian architect Osvaldo Borsani. A solo exhibition by Audrey Large—aptly titled Celestial Proceedings features sprawling, amorphous sculptures designed by hand and 3D-printed.
Yashar’s patronage of young artists, particularly young Italian artists, is reminiscent of her contemporary, Miuccia Prada, with whom Yashar has shared a close friendship for more than 40 years. The pair met in the late 70s as young women joining a series of feminist street protests. “It was a revolutionary period,” Yashar says. “We were defending the position of women.” What connected the two women was a “desire for beauty”, though they share many remarkable similarities beyond that. Both entered their fathers’ businesses, for example. Both went on to carve out bold new directions, revolutionising their respective fields in the process. Both are now household names in their native Italy and abroad.
Both bring a rich intellectualism to their craft that sets them apart from their peers. To look at, they could pass for sisters. “We bonded over a curiosity, a dialectic,” Yashar says. “We have always had an interesting conversation with each other. It helps you to go forward.”
Their friendship has developed into a professional dialogue too. Miuccia Prada is a longtime client of Yashar’s, and Yashar is, in turn, often decked out in head-to-toe Prada. Fashion is, in many ways, as much a passion for her as design. “In the late 80s, the Nilufar Gallery was on Via Bigli opposite the Saint Laurent store. I remember I spent all of my money on those amazing clothes,” Yashar says. “They are all iconic now and I still have them all. They are still very contemporary, very modern. I am a collector of fashion as well. I like special pieces […] that’s why I’ve bought so much from Prada. She has an incredible eye.”
After a rambling discussion about fashion (Yashar’s other favourite designers include Fendi, Miu Miu, and Valentino, she loves Rei Kawakubo and has her turbans made by a Roman milliner called Atlalen), we finish our interview and Yashar makes a move to leave. She is quickly swamped by calls of “Nina” and a mix of faces, both familiar and unfamiliar, politely asking for photographs. I know she is exhausted— it’s the penultimate day of Design Week—but she greets each of them with the grace and patience of a benevolent monarch.
Having now spent time with the space’s curator, I make a point of revisiting the Depot’s 28 rooms. It strikes me this time around that what Nina Yashar does is not as simple as designing interiors, scenelogy, or mise en scène; she creates entire worlds, dozens of them, hundreds over her lifetime, each rich with its own narrative, hinting at some imagined past lives, or brimming with the potential of future lives to come. It’s a marvel of a thing that human beings have a natural compulsion to place beautiful objects together in this way. Remarkable that the sum of so many parts can create something so spectacular. I asked Yashar if she could explain the impulse, but she was unable to. “It’s just instinct,” she offers. “It comes out when your mind is empty. It’s freedom.”
Scan the QR code to watch our exclusive interview.
Todd Forest’s current role is the flip side of his earlier career. Beginning as a fintech entrepreneur, his world used to be one of sweat equity, pitching to investors and planning how to disrupt the big players of the finance industry. Today, as managing director of NAB Ventures, he is on the other side, assessing investment opportunities for the bank’s $200m venture capital fund.
Forest now seeks out complementary startups in the fintech, climate transition and generative AI sectors to help make NAB a more innovative bank. “Part of our mandate is to invest in innovators with an adjacency to what we do, and partner with them to give our customers a better experience,” he explains.
While he might be on the other side of the deal these days, Forest continues to live and breathe Australian startup culture, which he has seen develop significantly in the 15 years since arriving from his native US. Amid the highs and not-so-highs of the venture capital industry, however, 2023 can be characterised as the latter. Deal volumes are down around 80 per cent on last financial year, coming off a record 12 months that saw around $9bn invested in Australian businesses across more than 600 deals.
“There’s a cyclical nature to it and 18 months ago prices were really high with a lot—probably too much—money in the market,” Forest says. This had a lot to do with the foreign funds active in the market last year, which he says tended to do minimal due diligence in favour of getting in on the market “as the tide was rising”. Now that the tide has receded, the local industry is more focused on ensuring that established companies are successful in navigating a challenging economy to make it to the other side, to the next funding round, trade sale or IPO. That is not to say that investment should stop; “Valuations are around a half or a third of what they were 18 months ago, so now is actually the time to back good founders,” suggests Forest. “When everyone is piling on it’s easy to be ‘brave’ with venture capital, but it’s actually when things come down that you have more opportunities.”
This optimism is based on the presence of around 120 local venture capital funds in what was a fledgling market a decade ago, and the circular energy whereby ever-bigger capital raises give the next generation of startup founders the confidence to progress their potentially gamechanging ideas. “Each year it is better and better,” he enthuses. “Some of the Australian funds, like Blackbird Ventures or Square Peg, are investing billions of dollars and there’s a bunch of angel investors who are much more robust [than in the past].” Forest is himself an example of how founders who sell their companies often go on to become mentors, investors and board members in other early-stage companies, perpetuating success for homegrown talent. “We see around 1000 companies a year and most of them are in Australia and New Zealand; there are some great ideas coming through,” he says.
Adding to the momentum are new platforms that use the crowdfunding model to channel and aggregate the funds of private investors. “Historically there were a number of significant hurdles that precluded investors from placing capital into startups and venture funds,” says Dan Bennett of Israeli-founded platform OurCrowd, which partnered with NAB in 2017. “These included regulatory hurdles and high investment minimums, which expose even ultra-high net worth investors to concentration risk; OurCrowd was established to overcome these and give investors a more equitable, ‘democratised’ form of access.” Last year, the decade-old platform surpassed US$2bn in investment commitments across its 14 global offices.
A key benefit for those getting started in venture capital, Bennett posits, is OurCrowd’s “ear to the ground”. He says it used to be all too common to see individual investors pursuing interests in early-stage technology companies—“often their neighbour’s daughter’s startup idea”—with little rigour or due diligence.
OurCrowd, by contrast, takes an institutional investment approach, providing access to a vast range of opportunities identified and scrutinised by its VC experts around the world. Bennett says the platform’s 224,000-plus members bring their own skillsets and connections to the companies they invest in too. “It’s a positive virtuous cycle wherein a client might make an investment in a field that they understand,” he explains. “They might become a customer of that particular company through their core business and then help with further connections in their local geography.”
Venture capital is a numbers game. Of the 18,000 companies on which OurCrowd has exercised due diligence, only 400 have received investment. The platform has staged 63 successful exits so far.
Todd Forest says roughly 10 in every 1000 companies researched by his team receive funding from NAB Ventures. Since 2016, NAB Ventures has made 33 investments globally. “When we think about whether a company matches our investment thesis, we quickly eliminate a large number, and then the main criteria is the founder and team around them, followed by market size,” he says. This assessment includes looking at how consumers are responding to the product, as well as whether the bank can add value to the company. “We think about the fit with various parts of the bank, and if we can actually bring the new product or service to our customers to create a win-win both for the startup and NAB customers,” he adds.
Once invested, NAB Ventures works closely with the founders to nurture the company’s growth and bring it to maturity. Sometimes this collaboration leads to a significantly updated product or approach, and ultimately the aim is an exit event such as a sale
to private equity, or merger and acquisition. Forest says venture capitalists think seven to nine years ahead, while private equity firms take a shorter three-to-five-year view. He recalls: “We had one exit that took less than a year, but most companies take a while to build and if you look at big tech success stories like Canva or even Facebook, the inflection point was between five and seven years.”
Though NAB Ventures is known for investing in technology companies, Forest says the fund is essentially investing in “people and ideas”.
“The most crucial consideration is that you are evaluating, and betting on, a person or a team,” he says. “It’s all about how much you trust these people and if you think they have the motivation and resilience to make it through.” That is why the first question he asks all entrepreneurs is why they started their business; “It’s not necessarily that they have a solution that is unique or completely new, it’s about their passion and if they had a personal experience which really drives them.”
He continues: “I ask that because they are inevitably going to hit hurdles and need to be so motivated that they will work late into the night and on weekends and holidays. Meeting people who are superpassionate about what they do is a big factor in identifying startups that are right for us.”
Discover more at nab.com.au/about-us/nab-ventures
Companies like Google, Facebook, Canva and Atlassian would never have grown without the support of angel investors and venture capital. Here two startup funders share their approach to finding and nurturing the next big business idea.
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By Lachlan Colquhoun
information contained in this document is gathered from multiple sources believed to be reliable as of the end of June 2023 and is intended to be of a general nature only. It has been prepared without taking into account any person’s objectives, financial situation or needs. Before acting on this information, NAB recommends that you consider whether it is appropriate for your circumstances. NAB recommends that you seek independent legal, financial and taxation advice before acting on any information in this document.
When the National Gallery of Victoria’s inaugural Melbourne Now debuted 10 years ago, some of its curatorial choices turned heads. It was a sprawling exhibition surveying the city’s art and design scene, from painting to installation, the cerebral to the utilitarian. We were used to seeing chairs, ceramics and furniture in a gallery setting, but consumer goods? And contemporary ones at that? Showerheads, pillows and tents? It seems uncanny for some to see a painting or sculpture or multi-channel video work alongside a rake available from Bunnings for $43.50.
In 2023, the return of Melbourne Now is another soaring look at the city’s cultural output, taking over three floors of the NGV’s Ian Potter Centre. Once again, both consumer goods and design are at the show’s heart, grounding it as a look at the way we live today.
“I think we need to interrogate what we mean by a contemporary gallery space,” says Simone LeAmon, the NGV’s Hugh DT Williamson curator of contemporary design and architecture, and the person behind the Design Wall that presents some of Melbourne’s most innovative product designs. For LeAmon, the idea of a gallery being a home solely for contemporary art is something of a 20th-century throwback. “These days, when we talk about the contemporary art space, we mean all creative cultural production,” she says.
In 2023, Melbourne’s design scene is at an exciting turning point. Industry leaders say the city has grown into a globally recognised design hub, a beacon of creativity drawing on a wealth of local talent who look both out and in.
According to a 2019 report compiled by Creative Victoria, there has been an 11 per cent increase in the number of design consultancies in Victoria since 2015, growing to more than 6000, with almost 100,000 people employed as designers across the state. The infrastructure has grown to meet this surge. In 2015, the NGV created the Department of Contemporary Design and Architecture. In 2017, Melbourne Design Week was launched to showcase the work of Victorian (and Australian) designers, and its program has grown from containing just under 100 exhibits to more than 370 in 2023.
With this rise in interest there is also a growing understanding that design isn’t just utilitarian. It’s about the world around us, and it’s about ideas.
“Design is for the world,” LeAmon says. “Design was not conceived, like modern art was conceived, for the space of the gallery alone. But in product design we see creativity, innovation, and the best of humanity. These designers are making things that are there to help us live the lives we want to live.”
A flurry of exhibitions and annual events are shining a light on Melbourne's design prowess, reflecting the city's evolution into a creative hub seeking to rival the world’s best.As the curator of the 2013 Design Wall and its 2023 sequel, LeAmon is responsible for putting the aforementioned rake in the gallery, alongside guitars, fans, suitcases, tents, taps, doorhandles and oxygen masks. Sitting design alongside purely aesthetic, cerebral works forces us to consider these objects— their purpose, their form, their place in our lives.
Promotional material says there are more than 200 artists in Melbourne Now, but realistically there are more than 300. There are 25 design studios represented in the Design Wall, and each might have up to 20 people behind it.
LeAmon says that while there were plenty of design firms operating in Melbourne 10 years ago, the difference today is the localised end-to-end manufacturing that exists. It’s quicker, more sustainable, and means each product is uniquely Australian, and in many cases, uniquely Melburnian, drawing on our customs and traditions.
Sussex Taps, for instance, presents several pieces from its Calibre range in Melbourne Now. The company produces its taps with recycled brass processed at their own foundry in Somerton, in Melbourne’s outer north. The taps are then sent down the road to be coated using environmentally friendly technology borrowed from the aerospace industry. It’s all done in a tiny radius, meaning the company has full view over its production chain and carbon footprint, while also preserving local craftsmanship and manufacturing. Sussex’s website states that in 2021, they became Australia’s first carbon neutral tapware company.
Similarly, Savic Motorcycles’ C-series emissions-free e-bike is produced from 80 per cent recyclable aluminium in West Melbourne, recalling the days when Victoria was the nation’s automotive manufacturing hub. Established in 2016, Savic is known as Australia’s first high-performance electric motorcycle manufacturer.
“The genius of product design is that these aren’t one one-offs,” LeAmon explains. “It’s about designing for volume—hundreds, or thousands, hundreds of thousands, millions. It has to be robust not only in production and delivery but successful in the market. That takes a particular type of genius.”
Of course, Melbourne makers cannot always compete in the global market on price. But today’s consumers look at more than price. They think about sustainability. They think about durability. They think about the connection to their local community.
Nicole Durling, executive director of Craft Victoria, believes our connection to buying local flared during the pandemic. “Our world got very small for a while and people started saying ‘well, actually we’ve got it pretty good here’,” she says. “People started thinking about provenance. Where is my food coming from? Where are the glasses on my table from?”
“We’re more aware of the production methods of fast fashion and its drawbacks, of fast furniture, of environmentally destructive practices. It costs money to have good design and good materials, but prioritising these things is part of who we are and how we want to live.”
Craft Victoria’s contribution to Melbourne Now is a collection of works from 15 artists spanning a variety of materials, cultures and traditions to explore one the simplest design forms: the vessel.
“Think of a simple teacup, or a serving plate, and how we gather around these vessels,” Durling asks. “The exchanges that happen around these humble objects. They can be humble but they’re weighed with a lot of social and cultural meaning.”
Timber, ceramics, weaving, textiles, metal and more feature in the exhibition, in both literal and figurative forms. Jessie French works with algae-based bioplastics stitched together with 14-carat gold for her Ghost in the ‘cene The experimental piece—groundbreaking in its scale—is stable and preservable while also completely biodegradable or reusable. Meanwhile, Vipoo Srivilasa’s large porcelain work Elarat / Ela references Thai literature and the Dungowan bush tomato found in Australia’s monsoon tropics, mashing these disparate ideas together to explore gender fluidity.
“We were trying to run the whole breadth of what designers and craftspeople are creating, and the brief to artists was to make the most ambitious piece they could,” Durling says. “Some you can see as literal vessels, but vessels can carry culture as well. That’s the interesting thing—they can be this hybrid thing between carrying emotion or culture or commodities.”
01. The 2023 Design Wall. Image: Peter Bennetts 02. Savic Motorcycles' C-series prototype (2017-2022). 03. My Sunshine Doesn't Come From The Sky glazed ceramic by Vipoo Srivilasa. Image: Simon Strong 04. Surface measure by Danica Chappell (2022–23).01. The space has been created for something to happen by Esther Stewart. Image: Tom Ross
02. No House Style installation.
Image: Tom Ross
03. Deep Murmuration (detail) by Jessie French (2022) depicting algae material used for bioplastics. Image: Jesse Hunniford
04. Installation view of Cove chair and Echo Low table by Thomas Coward (2021). Image: Tom Ross
Some of these works explore traditions going back millennia.
Lorraine Brigdale’s coil woven piece Gulpa Ngawalln reflects the artist’s Yorta Yorta heritage and beyond, utilising a traditional southeastern Aboriginal weaving style and locally sourced ochre in a form inspired by the ceremony burial poles of central Arnhem Land. “Having my hands in ochre, many thousands of years in the making, connects me directly to my ancestors,” Bridgale says in the Melbourne Now catalogue. She calls the work a “contemporary exploration of an age-old medium”.
Durling herself first studied ceramics in the early 90s and has observed a shifting attitude to the practice. “No one wanted to talk about it,” she says. “It was very old-fashioned and not considered valuable. Now every second artist is working in these forms. There’s a real movement towards artists embracing traditional techniques or rediscovering old techniques that fell out of fashion. I think a lot of makers today are yearning for that traditional knowledge.”
Design recurs throughout the show as a touchpoint for culture. Lou Hubbard’s Walkers with dinosaurs uses utilitarian objects from personal and domestic spaces, playfully incorporating inflatable walking frames and plastic chairs into sculptural forms. Elsewhere, in a kitsch juxtaposition of the traditional and the contemporary, an 1885 blackwood WH Rocke and Co sideboard is dressed with Mark Smith’s Control, a series of polyester and cotton letterforms. Esther Stewart, meanwhile, responds to architecture and design with
a sculptural textile work that recreates her home in the gallery space. The title of that work—The space has been created for something to happen —could be a mission statement for the whole exhibition. The city is the space. Here is what is happening.
“I often get asked, ‘What’s the difference between art and design?’” says Timothy Moore, co-curator of Melbourne Design Week. “People see them as separate, but they have a lot in common.”
Both practices value creativity, innovation and aesthetics. But while art is maybe best defined as a vehicle for self-expression, for provoking thought, for inspiring wonder; design is seen as being about practical problem-solving. Programming such as that seen at Melbourne Now and Melbourne Design Week suggests perhaps it isn’t so cut and dry.
Presented by the NGV and Creative Victoria, Melbourne Design Week is now in its seventh year, and Moore says it has grown into a globally recognised event. More than 55,000 people attended the 2022 event, making it the biggest of its kind in Australia.
“There has been an amplification of the importance of design,” Moore says, “but also an increased understanding of how design can be used. The basic definition is creating something new to solve a problem, and I think what the world needs now is largescale problem-solving.” There is the pressing issue of climate and sustainability, for one, but Moore also cites accessibility and culture as big drivers.
Melbourne Design Week acts as an aggregate of all these simultaneous conversations. Expressions of interest to exhibit are open to everyone, and the result is a wide-ranging program. Moore says that 90 per cent of this year’s event was organised by the sector, not curators.
“Design isn’t just about economic value,” he says. “It’s about social and cultural value as well. We want to keep our program as ideas-driven as possible—it’s about ideas, not just objects. Design doesn’t just have to solve a problem; it can ask a question.”
If Melbourne Now articulates one thing, it’s that there is no single Melbourne aesthetic or language. Moore’s biggest contribution to the exhibition is co-curation of No House Style in the building’s foyer. The display presents leading and emerging furniture designers and architects whose varying styles are evidence of Melbourne’s aesthetic plurality. He attributes this to a broad range of training opportunities through Melbourne’s five architectural schools and numerous design schools.
“Whether it’s about cultural tradition and expression, or individual expression, people are confident to go their own way,” Moore says. “I think people in Melbourne are surfing the waves of global trends and then interpreting it in our context, whether that’s geographical or cultural.”
There is no house style but there is a chutzpah, or confidence. “We are certainly bold in our approach. There’s also a lot of support, and a market here. As a result, we punch above our weight when compared to other cities,” he says, adding that he thinks Melbourne Design Week (the de facto Australian Design Week in his view)
is comparable to anything happening in New York, Shanghai or Dubai. “Or if we’re not there yet, we will be soon."
LeAmon agrees that Melbourne has earned its place in the global design dialogue. “I think in Melbourne we’re at this point where, after decades of heavy lifting, we’re finally able to talk about design as cultural production, about how it shapes our lives, how it has an impact on our lives,” she says. “Design is something that can not only give us pleasure but play an important role in shaping the world in which we want to live.”
For Durling, aside from the vital support offered by universities and the NGV, Melbourne’s success as a design hub is down to the artists and makers themselves. “The community really comes together,” she says. “Look at one of our neighbours in the city, the Nicholas Building; it’s a vertical creative community. It’s extraordinary the way the individuals working there, from jewellery makers to milliners, support each other. That’s part of what makes Melbourne special.”
“It always comes from the makers, from the artists. They’re the visionaries, and they will always set the agenda, responding to our environment and producing works they connect with. The rest of us catch up a little bit later.”
Melbourne Now currently at The Ian Potter Centre: NGV Australia, from 24 March—20 August. ngv.vic.gov.au/melbourne-now
“We want to keep our program as ideas—driven as possible—it’s about ideas, not just objects. Design doesn’t just have to solve a problem; it can ask a question.”
Multidisciplinary designer Bethan Laura Wood shares her singular perspective on the power of colour and pattern, and the inspiration behind her upcoming commission for the National Gallery of Victoria. –
By Mariela SummerhaysBethan Laura Wood—designer of furniture and lighting, rugs and jewellery, and more—has an inimitable language of materiality. Drawing inspiration from regional architecture and colour palettes, and her earliest encounters with precious objects, Wood’s instantly engaging works are rooted in a deep curiosity for the way that textures, patterns and colour create an emotional connection.
The results are nothing short of wondrous. Particle, for example, is a tessellated laminate furniture system fashioned after the historical use of crates in the warehouse where she found herself at the moment of inspiration. Wisteria, a hand-dyed PVC chandelier inspired by art nouveau glass work, grows in vibrancy as bright daylight turns to softer evening glow.
Wood’s passion is infectious and all-encompassing, the designer not only using adjectives typically associated with visuals to describe her work, but those for smell and touch and taste too. Works are digestible, and colour pairings have rhythms or tastes. She describes her practice in the context of an encounter with a cellar master “[whose] life and joy comes from exploring the combinations and the subtleties of taste and smell, and then creating those and sharing those with other people.” She reflects: I suppose I kind of like to do that with colour.”
In the afterglow of this year’s Salone del Mobile, and in anticipation of her MECCA x NGV Women in Design Commission installation being revealed in coming months, we speak to Wood about the projects that have come before and those yet to debut, how she developed her visual language, and the importance of structure amidst inspiration.
MS You’re just back from Milan Design Week where you showcased your latest works with CC-Tapis, the Guadalupe Collection. How did your trip to Mexico express itself in this collection?
BLW The Guadalupe rugs come from an ongoing obsession I've had with the New Basilica of the Lady of Guadalupe, which is a church on the edge of Mexico City. I first came across it in 2013, on my very first trip to Mexico. It had such a lasting impression on me that I've continually gone back to the drawings and the sketches I made around the church—specifically of its windows —and made works based on them.
There are basically two palette zones within the Guadalupe Collection. One is a warm heat that's the ‘late afternoon’ kind of tone. It's not like when colours are super vibrant because they're in strong sunshine; they’re the kind of colours that are warmed by the sun. I wanted to work with these tones for the more colourful version of the carpets. These colours are also a reference to when I was learning how to mix colours for industrial jacquard. I was really understanding, through making, how using certain key colours and then secondary colours allowed you to push certain palettes.
The second palette is the monotone, based predominantly on greens. With these we wanted to reference artwork, or work on knotting techniques for the background that would have a very rough aesthetical texture that nods to the concrete and brutalist structures around the [modern basilica's window] glass. You see it a lot on things like the New Basilica [and] the Barbican in London, a very iconic brutalist building; this kind of beautiful texture that's rough but also delicate. I really wanted to work with CC-Tapis to get that feeling.
MS You’ve said your practice is informed by “an emotional and intellectual investigation of materiality”. Can you recall your earliest memory of feeling captivated or moved by a specific object, first emotionally, and then conceptually or intellectually?
BLW Like many kids, I had a blankie that my mum sewed for me —I actually was asking my mum where it was the other day, because I know that it's vacuum-packed in a drawer to keep it safe. This is one object that is still now burnt into my retina, exactly what it looks like, what every edge is like, the fact that my mum made it. It's like, patchwork Laura Ashley fabric scraps in this kind of 70s, ‘80s, mustardy colour of flowers. I'm sure it's quite worn out, if I
actually saw it in real life. I have memories of the change between the physicality of it and myself because I have small memories, tastes of memories, of being able to be covered by the whole thing, and then not being covered by it. It combines lots of things that I still hanker after or I'm drawn to, in terms of period of time, aesthetics of pattern, and composition of multiple things being sewn together to make a new whole.
In terms of intellectual responses, I think one of the reasons a lot of my earlier works have a strong reference to the Memphis [design collective of the 1980s is because] I went with my mum to an exhibition on plastics; she has an obsession with plastics, which I've inherited from her. I remember seeing a piece of Memphis and not really liking it, finding it quite uncomfortable and challenging, and not really understanding—there were too many different proportions going on. It was really big, it was complex. I couldn't understand, but I wanted to understand, even if at the time I found it challenging.
MS Can you tell me about your fascination with colour theory?
BLW I'm fascinated to understand the nuance of colour related specifically to spaces. I started to understand that when I would go somewhere, and start to understand a particular colour in the context of that place; how much colour groupings mean to different people depending on where they grew up or the interactions they've had, or even the connections they may have to a colour that might have nothing to do with where they're from. [Maybe] this particular colour was on the jumper of someone they hated when they were five, and so they no longer can handle that colour.
I think people have a very emotional reaction to colour, even if we dismiss it quite often. Partly, that's why there's this fear around colour sometimes. There's the safety of having a beige space because you are not having to interact with it almost at all. I think when somebody does [interact with colour], and suddenly there’s a colour that works for them, there's a richness that you get, that you can't really explain, from being surrounded by certain colours. People can think they're quite vanilla, and then you mention an avocado bathroom suite and that's dangerous territory. The emotions run high when you start to suggest that might be something they want to engage with or relax inside.
MS Your practice encompasses such a wide range of things— jewellery, furniture, lighting, homewares, and so on. Does it feel like it all comes from the same well of creativity, or are you taking from a different toolkit every time?
BLW It's somewhere in the middle. There are definitely certain periods of time, certain aesthetical nuances, certain things that I am drawn to and that I will be engaged with, so there will be certain rhythms, certain forms that you can see follow through in multiple projects. For example, the Guadalupe carpets: this is a pattern that I've reinterpreted or worked with over several projects. There are certain rhythms or forms that I will pick up and want to explore, but I quite often will purposely reset the hierarchy of what's important based on the function or what I want to explore next. I enjoy reassessing why I've made certain decisions at a certain point, and then purposely making a different decision and seeing what comes out of it for the next project, rather than repeating the same set of rules. I think some of that also comes down to the fact that actually, everything can be with everything; you can add so many layers on top of each other and you can add so many colours. At some point, if there's no order to it, for me, it becomes very muddy when you put all the colours together. I find it very noisy if I don't give myself certain systems. [It allows me to] move on, otherwise I kind of get stuck over pondering “but why this choice?”. I have to set certain rules—even if I'm gonna break them later.
Choosing clothing and makeup do not appear to be purely functional pursuits for you. How does the artistry of your personal style tie in with your creative practice?
BLW I always enjoyed expressing myself through dressing up or playing around with clothing. I've always been fascinated by the textile and pattern you get in clothing. I think it's also one of the things that's most accessible when you are a young adult or a teenager. I wasn't allowed to paint my bedroom, I wasn't allowed to put posters on the wall, but dressing my body or going to charity shops and finding weird, beautiful, Dusty Springfield-style costumes was something I really enjoyed doing. I found it a very rewarding way to express myself. I found it more difficult to understand how to align my personal interest in pattern and colour against my work, because it's understanding the separation between me as a person and me as a designer. I think there was a while where I was more actively disconnecting the two.
When I was studying at the Royal College of Art, I had amazing tutors who were like “your tolerance for pattern and colour is much more than most people—use it, it's a power that you have”. After that, I started to make work expressly exploring pattern and colour. When I was travelling in Mexico, for example, I would pick up bits of textile, bits of colour and start wearing them, and I could feel that I was starting to digest other palettes to then feed into my works later. But not all my works are completely head-to-toe in colour. Sometimes people assume my work is going to be much more extravagant than it is because they know the way I look. Maybe I do use a lot of colour and pattern, but there's a lot more restraint in it than some. I've become more comfortable that these things can be connected, but they are two separate things. My choice to dress up isn't my work.
MS Your installation for MECCA x NGV Women in Design will open this December and has been described as “inviting audiences to contemplate how knowledge has been learned, and shared throughout time, and the roles played by gender”. Was there something specific happening in your life at the time that led you to this idea? What should audiences expect?
BLW I was invited to make a work in response to a particular space; the British Regency space that houses the NGV’s 18th—19th century collections. I was interested in the challenge of responding to this placement in the gallery alongside the focus of the commission to celebrate the work of women. During my research of the Regency period I came across the Blue Stocking Society, which was a women's social and educational movement. I liked the idea of making furniture for a gathering of the Blue Stockings. Obviously in British society, we have a huge hierarchical class system, so they were very privileged women—but one of the books I came across was by a female botanist, Jane Wells Web Loudon. I love the way she did books specifically for women to feel like they could engage with the garden [without being] hyper-focused on the traditional [Latinate descriptions of flowers]. Any way you can engage with learning and empowering yourself is a good way.
When compiling the latest Philanthropy 50 list for the Australian Financial Review, JBWere’s John McLeod drew on his more than 20 years of experience researching the for-purpose sector to identify trends in the charitable priorities of this country’s megadonors. Based on the public records of private foundations and direct liaison with philanthropists, the annual top 50 reflects a global trend for larger monetary pledges by a younger cohort of ultra-high net worth individuals.
He says: “The amount donated has doubled since we started the list in 2017, putting the entry figure at around $5m now, and what’s particularly notable is the sense of urgency; today’s givers are eager to develop solutions to major societal problems within their lifetime.” Philanthropic power couple Craig and Di Winkler pledged a listtopping $165m through their Yajilarra Trust in 2021-22, for example, while Canadian-born energy titan Geoff Cumming stunned Melbourne with his $250m gift (of which $100m was distributed last year) to fund a new medical research centre.
McLeod adds that Australia’s wealthy are growing more comfortable with discussing their charitable activities—despite having a far shorter history in this arena than the philanthropic dynasties of the US and UK—since doing so can encourage others to join in supporting those causes.
While there is not a direct correlation between the AFR ’s Rich List and Philanthropy 50, McLeod suggests this is less an indictment on billionaire benevolence than evidence of a knowledge gap when it comes to when and how much of one’s wealth might be redirected. He says the 'good list’ has come to serve as a guide for UHNWIs wondering what constitutes a generous amount to give away, adding that one per cent of one’s investible net wealth each year is not a bad aspirational benchmark.
Organisations such as Philanthropy Australia (which counts McLeod among its board), have suggested that the broader population has lost its connection with charitable giving, leaving more of the heavy lifting to be done by the ultra-wealthy. McLeod believes this may be because charities tend to focus on reactive and emotive fundraising in emergencies rather than pre-empting the ‘what’s in it for me’ question. “The ask often skips over the idea that you should donate to a cause because it’ll make your own life better,” he says, “because my life is improved if the health system functions better, if art galleries are more wonderful, if better housing leads to less street crime, if global travel becomes safer as a result of reduced poverty.”
The shifting priorities of private givers in recent years also hint at the fundamental difference between charity (as reactive) and philanthropy (proactive). “Australian philanthropy is still dominated by universities, largely in relation to medical research, but we’re seeing growth in areas such as housing and climate change where money is going towards finding solutions for the root causes of a societal problem,” he explains.
One top-10 giver, the Susan McKinnon Foundation, has pledged some $530m in totality to supporting effective government via think tank research and training for politicians, while the Scanlon Foundation is funding system improvements for the integration of immigrants in Australia. McLeod notes: “This is not the first thing that springs to mind when you think of philanthropy, but the scope is widening and there are serious dollars going towards bettering the way our country works. It invokes the adage that you’re better to install a fence at the top of the cliff than an ambulance at the bottom.”
He says more people are realising that philanthropy does not necessarily mean giving money at the point of crisis; “If you really care about food wastage, you might fund a report that investigates how to make the system more efficient, for instance.”
With Australia’s 50 most generous private givers having surpassed $1bn in donations for the first time last financial year, we speak to John McLeod, co-founder of JBWere Philanthropic Services, about emerging forms of charitable legacy and the scope of philanthropy.
For every $100 dollars in the coffers of a charity, only about $7 come from philanthropy. What that seven per cent offers, says McLeod, is opportunity to innovate and take the risks that a charity might not be free to do with funds provided by government or earned through the sale of services. “Philanthropy's job is to try new things, break the mould, and that can mean failing occasionally,” he adds. In the realm of private givers, the sky is the limit, or perhaps there is no limit at all.
McLeod continues: “Alpha personalities who have achieved stellar success in the business world have a special capacity to make connections and bring together the right people to tackle huge problems, and because solving such problems is exciting, they tend to pursue ever-greater philanthropic ambitions.” Take mining billionaires Andrew and Nicola Forrest, he suggests, whose Minderoo Foundation is addressing such epic challenges as ‘how do we fix the oceans?’, ‘how do we put an end to modern slavery?’ and ‘how can we cure cancer?’. He says it is this kind of big-picture thinking that makes it difficult to predict the members and focus areas of the Philanthropy 50 from one year to the next.
With technology joining mining and real estate as a major generator of Australian wealth in recent years, we are seeing younger and more socially conscious entrepreneurs entering philanthropic circles. McLeod says: “Look back 20 years and the biggest philanthropic organisations were groups like the Myer and Potter foundations, but now we have people aged in their 30s like Melanie Perkins and Cliff Obrecht of Canva thinking about their legacy right from the start of their business journey.” The couple debuted 18th on the list with a pledge of around $15m to break cycles of poverty. Having been exposed to activism as well as wealth at an earlier age than their forebears, generations Y and Z are finding resonance in texts like the 2021 book Die With Zero (by former Wall Street trader Bill Perkins) and asking ‘what's the point of being the richest person in the cemetery?’.
For those with generational wealth, philanthropy often serves as the glue that holds the family together. McLeod explains: “In addition to providing a reason for the different generations to meet regularly and discuss shared values, philanthropy also gives the patriarch or matriarch a chance to teach their descendants about money management before potentially transferring control of the family business.” He continues: “You might set up a foundation to distribute five per cent of the family wealth with your kids as directors, for example, and thereby ensure that they develop sound financial literacy skills before you hand over the keys to the entire family fortune.”
While JBWere established its philanthropic advisory division back in 2001, McLeod says the wider industry remains somewhat backward in educating Australia’s highest earners about the role of philanthropy in a well-rounded wealth management plan. He believes Australia is home to enough individuals with the minimum recommended net wealth for there to be around 30,000 private ancillary funds—PAFs being the most common philanthropic vehicle— and yet only 2100 have been set up. This is partly because PAFs were only introduced to provide tax deductions for philanthropic investment just over 20 years ago, whereas a similar vehicle has been available in the US for over 50 years. Based on the fact that a private ancillary fund carries a certain administrative burden, including registering it as a company with directors, an annual audit, and filing returns with the Australian Charities and Not-for-profits Commission, it is logical to look at this structure if you plan to donate $1m or more, but there is no legal minimum. “It makes sense to get started in philanthropy when you go through a major tax event like the sale of a business, partly for the tax offset but also to explore new purposes for your wealth while you can still be actively engaged, as opposed to the way that foundations used to only get started through bequests,” says McLeod.
For those planning to give away a lesser amount or not wanting the extra paperwork, the sub-fund route is a good option. He explains: “A public ancillary fund is like the philanthropic version of a retail superannuation fund versus a self-managed one; you get the tax deduction without being required to manage anything, and if you grow your charitable interests to the point that you want to take control, you can port it over to a private fund.”
JBWere has made a submission to the Productivity Commission’s Philanthropy Inquiry calling for additional options to these funds and the traditional vehicle of the charitable trust. The living bequest format used in the US sees double the percentage of Americans leaving money to charity in their wills than Australians. “The introduction of living bequests here would be a gamechanger, especially during a decade when gen Xers who are successful in their own right will be inheriting money they don’t particularly need,” says McLeod. “While superannuation makes up a bigger part of people’s assets nowadays, and Australia is a global leader in super, we’re currently disincentivised from leaving any of it to charity because the rules require you to put it through your estate first and therefore forfeit 15 per cent in death taxes.” The inquiry’s draft report is due in November.
It goes without saying that continuous innovation in the forpurpose space is vital, especially as the generosity of the next generation may surprise and inspire us all.
The information contained in this document is gathered from multiple sources believed to be reliable as of the end of June 2023 and is intended to be of a general nature only. It has been prepared without taking into account any person’s objectives, financial situation or needs. Before acting on this information, NAB recommends that you consider whether it is appropriate for your circumstances. NAB recommends that you seek independent legal, financial and taxation advice before acting on any information in this document. ©2023 NAB Private Wealth is a division of National Australia Bank Limited ABN 12 004 044 937 AFSL and AustralianCredit Licence 230686.
John Isaac, founder of Artisans de Genève, a Swiss company that specialises in personalising timepieces, first glimpsed the possibilities of custom-designed watches some 20 years ago. He had bought a vintage Rolex for a friend and, on the advice of his grandfather, flew to Geneva to have the watch restored by a venerable dial manufacturer. Upon arriving at the factory, he recalls: “They said ‘we can do whatever you want’ and it opened my mind.”
“My friend was very passionate about butterflies,” he continues. “We restored and customised the dial in blue and placed a butterfly on it. I brought the watch to my friend’s birthday and the women at the party all said ‘I want one, can you make it in yellow?’.”
This experience got him thinking about why customisation was not offered by watch brands as standard, until he came to understand the scope of the manufacturing challenge. “On a watch, you have 40 to 45 different savoir-faires If you have to respond to demands, it becomes a headache,” he says.
That may explain why—in an age when jewellery, sneakers, toys and any number of consumer products can be customised online with a few keystrokes—a bespoke luxury watch instead requires the often time-consuming and costly services of a specialist design house to achieve such personalisation. That was true in the mid-2000s, when most of today’s bestknown watch customisers—Isaac’s Artisans de Genève, London’s Bamford Watch Department and MAD Paris, among others—got their start, and it’s still true today.
The customisers employ teams of artisans to cosmetically alter the dial and/or casing of
a watch. In the most extreme examples, they hire watchmakers to augment the movement. For a recent client, Isaac went as far as adding a moonphase complication (where the current phase of the moon is shown through a window on the watch face) to a Rolex Submariner. “It had never been done before,” he adds.
After two decades serving this niche, Artisans de Genève remains committed to working with the pre-owned watches of its private clients on projects that can take six months or more, requiring the skills of a dozen craftspeople and costing tens of thousands of dollars.
Bamford and MAD Paris, meanwhile have scaled their businesses by introducing off-the-shelf options.
Under designer Pierre Lheureux, MAD Paris has earned a reputation for creating ultra-contemporary one-of-a-kind versions of timepieces by Audemars Piguet and Patek Philippe that retail between A$150,000 and $750,000. One of MAD Paris’ latest designs, a Darth Vader-esque take on Patek Philippe’s soughtafter Nautilus wristwatch, is coated in black diamond-like carbon (DLC) and embellished with 150 baguette-cut black sapphires.
About five years ago, MAD Paris began working with Names, a Londonbased brand development agency that has helped the company maintain an aura of mystery while connecting with a new generation of watch collectors. “We don’t like to share too much,” says Names director Elena Filipponi. “It’s about that element of privacy and exclusivity.”
With Names’ support, MAD Paris established partnerships with fashion retailers such as Browns, Farfetch and Dover Street Market. “If you walk into Dover Street in London or Maxfield in LA you’ll find a selection of pieces that we created for one type of customer, where the watch is perceived as a fashion accessory and they don’t mind spending $80-90k [for that],” Filipponi says. “Then there’s the client who approaches us directly to ask for a crazy set of stones—you name it. From there, it’s a [lengthy] process of sitting down with them, understanding the model, the customisation they want.”
George Bamford, founder of Bamford Watch Department in London’s Mayfair, was considered a maverick until 2017 when he began partnering directly with the brands whose timepieces he had spent years altering with his trademark black PVD finishes. That was the year Jean-Claude Biver, then-head of LVMH’s watch division, asked him to serve as the customising agent for TAG Heuer and Zenith.
“With brands like TAG Heuer, we’re closer than ever,” Bamford says. “I just had a call with Girard-Perregaux, [and have] been doing stuff with Franck Muller. We did a G-Shock that sold out in 90 seconds! It’s been good, but you make your watchmaking bed; you have to work at every bit of luck.”
Indeed, the time and skills required to coordinate a steady stream of custom requests is not sustainable for many. Ben Waite, director at Titan Black, a London-based watch customiser founded in 2009, recently decided to close the business. “We love all the magic of the Swiss handicrafts, but we can’t compete with the big guys,” he says. “The last watch I made at Titan Black was an amazing £60k (A$112k) Submariner, which took three years and 10 craftsmen. It was one of the most beautiful things I ever made.”
Demand for personalised timepieces continues to rise with young buyers weaned on online configurators having come to expect at least a modicum of choice when it comes to design. Brands like Zenith are doubling down on that demand; the company now offers clients the ability to have Bamford Watch Department customise its Pilot Type 20 Chronograph using an in-store tablet. Biver, who retired from LVMH in 2018 but returned with an eponymous watch brand earlier this year, is convinced that the ability to offer personalisation is what will distinguish watchmakers in a crowded field. “People are looking to have something special,” he offers. “The trend is not going to weaken; it’s going to increase. It won’t [quite] be half our business but it will be important.”
01. MAD Paris' heavily customised Audemars Piguet Royal Oak sports watch with hand-applied white ceramic. 02. A Royal Oak coated in black DLC with brushed finish, priced around A$105,000. 03. Blacked-out custom Patek Philippe Nautilus with polished finish.The tiny new after-dark cocktail venue shaking up Flinders Lane’s dining precinct
Photography EARL CARTERMelbourne chef and restaurateur Andrew McConnell recently opened his anticipated standalone CBD cocktail bar, Apollo Inn—an atmospheric new venue fast establishing itself as a must-visit in the city’s bustling Flinders Lane dining precinct.
Housed in a neo-Renaissance former pub building steps away from its sibling venue, Gimlet at Cavendish House, the characterful bijou space delivers servicedriven sophistication and old-world charm in equal measure.
McConnell says that while opening a dedicated drinks venue wasn’t always a conscious plan, his own penchant for proper cocktail bars, together with the popularity of Gimlet’s bar seating, helped move the concept along. “Bookending a night out with a visit to a great bar is an excellent way to get a read on a city,” he explains, adding, “In hindsight, I guess it has always been burbling away as an idea.”
Playing to its air of club-like seclusion, the 30-seat bar is found behind an unassuming entrance and entered through a distinctive pair of whisky-coloured leather-clad doors. Intimate and moody, the interiors by Sydney design studio ACME (the same team behind Gimlet’s midcentury style), highlight the “good bones” of the 1924-built McDonald House and pay homage to the elegance of 1950s-era cocktail bars.
Developed by bar manager Cameron Parish over 18 months, the bar’s cocktail list contains meticulously made classics and thoughtful signature drinks. Martini lovers can take their pick from four styles, while the rose-hued Lucian Gaudin (a favourite winter aperitif of McConnell’s that he describes as “sitting somewhere between a martini and a negroni”), and French-inspired Picon Bière (a Gallic take on the Aussie ‘shandy’), bring fresh thinking to the table.
Wine drinkers, meanwhile, can take advantage of reciprocal rights to Gimlet’s 300-plus bottle cellar, with drops available by the glass or bottle. And, of course, no Andrew McConnell outing would be complete without food; here, you’ll find a brief menu offering fare such as raw tuna with sobrasada, wagyu beef on toast with winter truffle, crème caramel, and other share-friendly snacks.
apolloinn.bar
After gracing stages from Paris to Milan, Vienna and beyond, The Tokyo Ballet will make its Australian debut this July performing Leonid Lavrovsky’s timeless piece, Giselle. Set to Adolphe Adam’s breathtaking original score, the performance will mesmerise audiences with the tragic love story of the young peasant girl Giselle and her beloved nobleman Albrecht. One of the most enduring masterpieces of the 19th Century, The Tokyo Ballet’s Giselle is sure to deliver impeccable choreography and enchanting orchestration for an unforgettable experience. Arts Centre, Melbourne. 14-22 July. australianballet.com.au
Award-winning actress and Grammy-nominated jazz vocalist Lisa Simone will make her Australian debut this spring to pay homage to her late mother, the inimitable Nina Simone. Performing as part of the 2023 Melbourne International Jazz Festival, Simone will lend her velvet vocals to her mother’s repertoire in an intimate one-night-only main-stage performance—reigniting classics including ‘Feelin’ good’, ‘My baby just cares for me’ and ‘Black is the colour’. This rare and unforgettable journey through Nina Simone’s timeless discography and remarkable musical legacy is a must-see. Hamer Hall, Melbourne. 22 October. artscentremelbourne.com.au
This masterfully curated display of rare and extraordinary objects traverses time, geography and memory to present a truly captivating spectacle of sociocultural history. Cherry-picking 1001 of the most impressive and bizarre relics from the collection’s 500,000 objects, the exhibition will share hundreds of fascinating historic artefacts never before seen by the public, including everything from an Edo-period samurai warrior’s suit of armour to a Detroit Electric car manufactured in 1917 and the Pink Diamonds dress worn by Nicole Kidman in the Baz Luhrmann film, Moulin Rouge. Powerhouse Ultimo, Sydney. 26 August through December. maas.museum
World-leading German tenor Jonas Kaufman will make a welcome return to Australia as part of the Sydney Opera House’s 50th birthday celebrations, presenting Ponchielli’s captivating opera La Gioconda this August. Invigorating the rarely performed masterpiece, Kaufman will pair his versatile tenor with the vocal fireworks of Spanish soprano Saioa Hernández to transport audiences to the Carnevale of Venice for a tale of treachery, vengeance and heartbreak. Presented by Opera Australia over two nights, with renowned conductor Pinchas Steinberg leading the orchestra. Concert Hall, Sydney Opera House, 9 and 12 August. sydneyoperahouse.com
This winter, Melbourne’s Anna Schwartz Gallery will present Perspective Paintings 19872023, a selection of works by influential Melbourne-based abstractionist Stephen Bram. For more than three decades, Bram has explored the relationship between abstract painting and the representation of architectural space. Part of a 35-year-long project by Bram, the works investigate abstraction, idealism, illusion, modernism and postmodernism, with each piece revealing extraordinary spatial depth through geometric lines and precisely positioned perspective points. A true masterclass in abstract exploration, the exhibition is a testament to Bram’s artistic vision and devotion. Anna Schwartz Gallery, Melbourne. Until 29 July. annaschwartzgallery.com
Channelling the brassy confidence of the archetypal New York steakhouse, the latest venture from the team responsible for Sydney’s Bistrot 916 and Pellegrino 2000 offers a well-executed ode to the classics. To start, there’s a full raw seafood bar featuring premium imported caviar, oysters and prawn cocktails, while chef Sam Galloway’s menu delivers sophisticated updates on retro American favourites such as crab cakes, oysters Rockerfeller and scallops casino—and, of course, steak, cooked here on a Josper charcoal grill. Bridge Street, Sydney. clambarsydney.com
Part Parisian wine bar, part retro Mediterranean grill, this atmospheric new venue from the group behind Restaurant Hubert and Shady Pines Saloon holds the same rakish, theatrical charm of its sibling venues—this time in a heritage-listed, 1838-built former pub in The Rocks. One of the year’s most anticipated openings, it features a casual wine bar serving serious cocktails and offering over 300 wines (many by the glass); and a mural-lined 50-seat dining room with a share-friendly menu that skips from France to Spain, Italy and Greece. George Street, The Rocks. swillhouse.com/venues/le-foote Food
Inspired by Japan’s famous shokudos (often hole-in-the-wall diners), this intimate 20-person sake bar from Chaco Bar alumnus Kei Tokiwa brings a sliver of Japanese drinking culture to Darlinghurst in honour of pouring rituals passed down since the earliest days of rice cultivation. Tucked away off Crown Street, Amuro greets guests with imported nihonshū (boutique sake) and a rotating list of seafood-focused snacks inspired by traditional regional dishes. Guests will find Tokiwa forthcoming with stories about the artisan brewers and the distinct flavours and aromas they can draw out in each sake. Walk-ins only. Darlinghurst, NSW. amuro.au
A welcome arrival for hotel guests and locals alike, the new Showroom Bar at recently refurbished boutique hotel The Royce delivers 1920s charm in spades. Housed in the circa-1928 St Kilda Road building that originally served as a Rolls-Royce showroom, the bar features original vaulted ceilings, an open fireplace and a club-like lounge area. Cocktails, caviar and champagne all take centre stage, while European-inspired bar snacks and a more substantial sit-down menu (by ex-RitzCarlton Doha chef Pawan Dutta), offer options for every mood. St Kilda Rd, Melbourne. roycehotel.com.au
Perched sky-high on the 80th floor of the chic new Ritz-Carlton hotel in Melbourne’s CBD, fine diner Atria is proving that hotel restaurants can indeed connect with more than just a tourist audience by flexing culinary chops, reflecting local culture and bringing some serious glamour. With former Bibendum (London) and Vue de Monde chef Michael Greenlaw at the helm in partnership with the hotel’s culinary advisor Mark Best, the menu takes a hyper-local approach, showcasing Victorian seafood, beef, game and all manner of native ingredients. Interiors are suitably grand, offering dramatic views across the city’s skyscrapers and beyond, while the attached cocktail bar Cameo (with a drinks program by the team from The Everleigh) also makes a worthy destination. Lonsdale St, Melbourne. atriadining.com.au
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