Issues

Around the world in 40 designs: The best furniture, country by country

1.
N-T01
by Norm Architects for Karimoku Case, 2022

This drinks trolley is a collaboration between Denmark’s Norm Architects and Japanese furniture manufacturer Karimoku. A beauty on wheels, it comes with a paper-cord-wrapped oak handle and takes its form from the umbrella racks that stand at the entrances to many Japanese temples.

2. 
Kigo Side Table 70
by Gam Fratesi for Koyori, 2024

Copenhagen-based studio GamFratesi drew inspiration from the organic forms and rich textures of Isamu Noguchi’s mid-century stone sculptures for its Japan-made table series. Light oak and dark walnut evoke the harmony of nature, while the skilled human touches that finish these small tables make for seamless, smooth surfaces.

3. 
1AD Akari light
by Isamu Noguchi for Ozeki Lantern, 1951

Japanese-American sculptor Isamu Noguchi started designing his Akari lights in 1951 and they’re still handmade with washi paper and bamboo ribbing in the Gifu workshop of Ozeki Lantern. Noguchi compared the Akari’s soft glow to “the light of the sun filtered through the paper of shoji”. There are many sizes and shapes but 1AD is a good start.

4. 
Three-legged Drawer
by StudioYO, 2023

This made-to-order piece reimagines traditional storage, stripping away the outer casing to reveal a set of drawers supported by three legs. The effect is a cabinet system that appears to be floating, blurring the boundary between design and art.

5. 
Elephant Stool
by Sori Yanagi for Vitra, 1954

With a masterly blend of functionalism and tradition that’s difficult to beat, Sori Yanagi set the standard for Japanese product design. His work on everything from cutlery to pots and pans are as fresh today as ever. This stackable stool from 1954 can be used either indoors or outdoors. It can be a seat or a side table, is easy to clean and will last for years. Another Yanagi classic.

6.
Mushroom Stool
by Yamanaka Design Group for Tendo Mokko, 1961

This moulded-plywood masterpiece is so complicated to make that even though it won a competition in 1961, it didn’t actually go into production until 42 years later. A small piece in natural grain teak, it encapsulates so much about Japan: the skill of its artisans, the power of its postwar design and the enviable depth of manufacturer Tendo Mokko’s back catalogue.

7. 
Foldable Clothing Rack 3000
by Kenmochi Design Institute for Akita Mokko, 1984

Japanese designers are well-versed in making items for tight spaces and this folding clothing rack by Kenmochi Design Institute offers slimline hanging for clothes. Meticulously crafted in beech by Akita Mokko – makers of bentwood furniture since 1910 – it comes in a variety of colours and you can attach matching hooks for additional storage.

8. 
Sing Sing Sing chair
by Shiro Kuramata for XO, 1985

Shiro Kuramata created functional, highly prized pieces that blurred the lines between art and design. The Sing Sing Sing chair, designed for French manufacturer XO, features steel mesh and a curvy tubular frame that perfectly encapsulate the designer’s architecture-meets-industrial style. And, as a bonus, it’s also a terrific (and comfortable) conversation starter.

9. 
Meguro lounge chair and ottoman
by Naoto Fukasawa for Maruni, 2025

The Hiroshima chair, also designed by Naoto Fukasawa for Maruni (for whom he’s the art director), is already in the pantheon of chair classics. His new Meguro lounge chair – here in walnut and brown leather with an accompanying ottoman – is just as special.

10. 
Stone Garden
by Time & Style, 2024

Sadly, we can’t all live in a historic Japanese temple but this Stone Garden collection from Time & Style can bring the same natural materials and contemplative mood into any home. Its low-level seating, made in Asahikawa in Hokkaido, comes with tatami mats or cushions to encourage relaxation and more appropriate posture.

11.
Tatu lamp
by André Ricard for Santa & Cole, 1972

Named after the Portuguese word for armadillo, this lamp has an appeal that has endured since it was released in the 1970s. Conceived by Catalan industrial designer André Ricard, Tatu takes its inspiration from the focal glow of aeroplanereading lights. With three independently rotating sections and an adjustable beam, Tatu is best suited to quiet and focused activities.

12.
Suricata desk
by Inma Bermúdez for Sancal, 2025

This versatile desk-and-stool piece is inspired – and named after – the inquisitive suricata, which is Spanish for “meerkat”. The desk embodies the energy and dynamism of the small mammal, while encouraging active sitting. Available in a natural maple veneer or a colourful range of wood stains, this desk can turn even the smallest of spaces into a stylish study.

13.
Altar table
by Miguel Milá for Kettal, 2023

Barcelona-born designer Miguel Milá created this table in the mid-1960s as an altar for his wedding. Later it became part of his everyday use. Though not mass-produced at the time, Kettal picked up the patent for this simple yet charming design in 2023. It’s made from teak and its top comes in a variety of colours and finishes.

14.
Salvador chair
by Miguel Milá for Trenat, 2013

The elegant Salvador chair highlights not only Miguel Milá’s unending search for simplicity and economy of resources but also his appreciation for existing craft traditions. Manufactured by Trenat, the chair uses natural rattan cane, reed and reed strip or coloured ribbons, blending Mediterranean heritage with modern-day design sensibilities

15.
BKF chair
by Antoni Bonet, Juan Kurchan and Jorge Ferrari-Hardoy for Isist Atelier, 1938

Known as the BKF but also the Hardoy, the Butterfly, the Safari, the Sling or the Wing, this chair was designed in 1938 by Spanish architect Antoni Bonet, in partnership with Argentinian design duo Juan Kurchan and Jorge Ferrari-Hardoy. The chair immediately became a symbol of postwar modernity. While many versions exist in the market, Isist Atelier has been handcrafting the original steel-and-leather model to exact specifications since the 1990s.

16.
Tria
by JM Massana and JM Tremoleda for Mobles 114, 1978

Tria, which means “choose” in Catalan, is a shelving system originally designed for Mobles 114 in 1978 by industrial design pioneers JM Massana and JM Tremoleda. The modular unit can be adapted to almost any space thanks to its configurable nature and range of materials, which include oak, walnut and cedar, and colours, such as ochre, orange, green and grey anthracite.

17. 
Õru sofa
by Patricia Urquiola for Andreu World, 2022

Spanish architect Patricia Urquiola looked to the design direction of the 1970s and Japanese aesthetic sensibilities to create this curved and low-slung sofa. Its three oar-shaped feet are the result of woodworking prowess combined with cutting-edge industrial technology, all of which is brought together beautifully in the Valencia manufacturing facility of Andreu World.

18. 
Dipping Light
by Jordi Canudas for Marset, 2018

Jordi Canudas’s lightbulb moment came when he was experimenting with plunging a lit lamp into a vat of paint at repeated intervals. The result is the Dipping Light, an instantly recognisable piece – and a Marset bestseller – that features gradients of colour and casts a warm glow.

19.
Balensiya
by Gonzalo Milà and Juan Carlos Ines for Indoors, 1991

Balensiya is a sculptural seat with a gentle rocking motion that’s designed for playful interaction. Made from varnished beech plywood and incorporating traditional woodworking techniques, it was designed by Gonzalo Milà and Juan Carlos Ines in the early 1990s. The arch-shaped stool is now issued by Barcelona-based design company Indoors.

20. 
Explorer cabinet
by Jaime Hayon for BD, 2019

This cabinet features in Jaime Hayon’s 2019 Explorer collection for Barcelona firm BD. The smooth lines and playful colour of the cabinet take their cues from hot dogs, a simple source of inspiration that exists in fun contrast to the hand-finished and high-gloss lacquer usually found on pianos. The result is a humorous and visually striking yet functional piece.

21.
B77 MK III
by Revox, 2024

Released last year, Revox’s updated version of this classic tape recorder retains the brushed aluminium, dials and restrained design of the original. But its more modern electronics and digital counter bring it firmly into the present. Swiss-engineered, this is a machine for anyone who values outstanding audio quality.

22.
DS-1025 Terrazza sofa
by Ubald Klug for De Sede, 1973

Part-furniture, part-landscape architecture, Ubald Klug’s Terrazza sofa takes its sculptural cues from terraced hills. With its leather layers and modules that can be mirrored, extended or combined, it is capable of forming the dramatic centrepiece of any living room. Manufactured in Klingnau, in the Swiss workshop of De Sede, the Terrazza continues to intrigue more than 50 years after its release.

23.
SBB Clock
by Hans Hilfiker for Mobatime, 1944

With its bold markings and luminous face, Hans Hilfiker’s iconic railway clock is easily legible by day or by night. With its sweeping carmine-red second hand and thick black markings, the pared-back design is recognisable around the world. In Switzerland, the clock is still on proud display in every train station, quietly keeping time on the nation’s comings and goings.

24.
Landi chair
by Hans Coray for Vitra, 1938

Though the Landi chair was designed for the 1939 Swiss National Exhibition, it wouldn’t look out of place at a contemporary design fair today. Made from durable weather-resistant aluminium, its perforated seat and back make it an ideal outdoor companion, while its stackable design ensures practicality.

25.
Rey chair
by Bruno Rey for Dietiker, 1971

Thanks to a patented screw-free wood-to-metal joint, this stackable classic from Bruno Rey combines curved forms with a clean, graceful look. Durable, comfortable and instantly recognisable, it is the first Swiss chair to earn this patent. Moreover, it still feels modern and worth owning to this day.

26.
Wall/Ceiling Lamp
by Georg Gisel for Lehni, 1976

This 1970s lamp by Zürich-born Georg Gisel uses a mirrored bulb to throw light onto a reflective disc, casting a glowing halo that softly illuminates a room. Designed to be used as a wall or a ceiling fixture, it pulls off the rare feat of being minimal, sculptural and atmospheric, all at the same time.

27. 
USM Haller system
by Fritz Haller and Paul Schärer for USM, 1963

Built from chrome-plated steel frames and colourful powder-coated panels, the USM Haller system has been helping the Swiss stay organised since the late 1960s. Conceived as modular cubes, the storage units can be endlessly reconfigured. For its functionality, the USM Haller system is one of the undeniable benchmarks of Swiss modernism.

28. 
Loop chair
by Willy Guhl for Eternit, 1954

In the 1950s, Willy Guhl bent a single fibre-cement panel into a continuous loop, creating a seat and a backrest in a simple gesture. Made from repurposed roof panels, the chair was discontinued in 1980 because of the presence of asbestos in the material. It was later put back into production – thankfully without the carcinogenic content – and its elegance continues to impress even today.

29. 
Spaghetti outdoor chair
by Huldreich Altorfer for Embru, 1948

Huldreich Altorfer’s laidback lounger consists of colourful PVC cords stretched over a tubular steel frame. Stackable and comfortable, it earned the nickname Spaghetti chair thanks to its playful strands, which resemble the Italian pasta. A postwar garden staple, the chair has furnished Swiss terraces for generations.

30. 
TMP paper collector
by Willi Glaeser for Thomas Merlo & Partner, 1989

Willi Glaeser was walking around his office when he identified the need for a design that could keep A4 sheets of paper stacked and tidy. The result is this simple steel frame that is functional but also surprisingly discreet. It turns out that Glaeser wasn’t the only person hankering for a quietly stylish paper collector: the design has since sold more than one million units worldwide.

31.
Botton lamp
by Jader Almeida, 2023

Designer Jader Almeida’s style revolves around natural, sinuous lines. This quality is on display in 2023’s Botton lamp, a canopy-like structure that bends outward then collapses into itself. Its modest, compact shape lends itself to a variety of settings, from bedside tables and dining rooms to the office.

32. 
Mesa cabana
by André Grippi, 2024

Designed by São Paulo-based André Grippi, the Cabana series perfectly combines rattan and wood. Held up by three legs, this table’s amorphous shape is just the right amount of whimsical. With its playful silhouette, Grippi brings Brazilian modernism into the 21st century.

33. 
Pé de Ferro armchair
by Lina Bo Bardi, 1950

Lina Bo Bardi was a modernist architect who lived in Milan, Rio de Janeiro, Rome, Salvador and São Paulo. This chair, designed with Giancarlo Palanti, is all tubular shapes, clean silhouettes and white upholstery. As well as being beautiful, it is also functional. As Bo Bardi once said, “It is necessary that the work does not fall from the sky over its inhabitants but rather expresses a need.”

34. 
Mole lounge armchair
by Sergio Rodrigues, 1961

Designed in 1961, this armchair is Sergio Rodrigues’s best-known piece. Mole is Portuguese for “soft” but you don’t have to be fluent to guess that. The chair’s leather upholstery, which flaps outward from its base structure like a pair of wings, is equal parts plush and pleasant.

35. 
Sleeper chaise longue
by Lucas Simões, 2025

Simões’s Sleeper resembles a chaise longue refracted and reflected back at you in a funhouse mirror. Its concrete base is sci-fi-like, while its undulating, seemingly gravity-defying design adds a touch of the surreal. The name is fitting: this feels like something out of a dream.

36.
Studio K desk lamp
by Bill Iggulden for Planet Lighting, 1962

In the 1960s, designers such as Bill Iggulden put a practical, Antipodean spin on mid-century modern. Case in point is this lamp, which has a sharp armature jutting from a solid metal base, exposing coils and wires. The bulb cover creates a concentrated pool of light in which to work.

37. 
Linear Sunlounge
by Tait, 2022

Melbourne-based Tait’s sunlounger is made from marine-grade stainless steel and timber, with a form that’s as sleek as its moniker suggests. Its two-wheel set-up means that it can be easily moved from poolside to backyard patio, making it a hit with those soaking up the sun or unwinding after a barbecue.

38. 
Clipped wing side table
by Simon Ancher Studio, 2018

Australian designer and maker Simon Ancher’s side table, which can also be used as a stool, is manufactured in Tasmania and made to order from the state’s famed blackwood timber. The result is a carefully crafted piece with visible, rich timber grains. Small but solid in stature, it’s robust like the Australian island from which it hails.

39. 
Event Horizon table
by Marc Newson Edition, 1992

Fabricated in spun aluminium with four trumpet-shaped legs supporting a hollow tabletop, Marc Newson’s Event Horizon table was first made by an Aston Martin restoration firm near London. The coachbuilders worked the aluminium in an approach akin to that of glassblowers, creating its bulbous forms.

40. 
R160 contour chair
by Grant Featherston for Emerson Bros, 1951

This piece’s name sums up Australian designer Grant Featherston’s intent: to create a chair that comfortably contours to the body. The back of the seat curves along the length of the user’s spine, while its plush upholstery and the gentle taper of its ashwood legs make it a treat to look at.

Five luxury hotels waiting for you to check in, from Marrakech to Malaysia

1.
The Brach
Madrid

The Gran Vía is one of Europe’s most well-trodden streets but you wouldn’t guess it when you step inside the Brach Madrid, the Evok Collection’s first Brach venture beyond France. The seven-storey hotel has been thoughtfully soundproofed but the interiors also help to turn things down with ornamental textures, dark hues and moody lighting. Once the childhood home of Victor Hugo, the building retains the feel of a stately mansion, quietly ensconced on a main street.

Each of the 57 guest rooms and suites is filled with vintage souvenirs, adventure books and even the odd musical instrument. The spa is kitted out with an oxygenation chamber and an infrared sauna but there’s also a long marble pool and massage rooms – perfect if getting here via the Gran Vía takes its toll.
brachmadrid.com

2.
The Twenty One
Athens

The renovated Twenty One sits among the sprawling private homes of Kifisia, an area that “blends a glorious past with a vibrant present”, says co-owner Alexandros Varveris. The hotel’s – you guessed it – 21 rooms are decorated with Punto tiles by French design team Ronan and Erwan Bouroullec, while marble-and-terrazzo bathroom interiors come courtesy of the co-founders’ family business, Moda Bagno and Interni, founded in 1974. A pink-and- green tiled swimming pool is nestled in a lush garden, while in the restaurant, Isabella’s, chef Nikos Dimitras focuses on refined Mediterranean fare.
thetwentyonehotel.com

3.
Izza
Marrakech

“To be surrounded by so many artworks and artists is a form of nourishment,” says Aicha Benazzouz, who, as part of Izza’s art-direction team, conducts several tours per day. As she leads Monocle up a slender stairwell to a balcony overlooking one of three interior courtyards, she details the hotel’s years-long renovation. “We connected seven adjoined properties on a quieter part of the medina,” she says.

Having started as the project’s interior stylist, Benazzouz now oversees the entire operation, which functions as both hotel residence and museum.

Typically, riads are inverted houses that shelter inhabitants from the bustle beyond. Izza takes a different approach, like a labyrinth with surprises at every turn, and Moroccan and African artists are given pride of place. Interiors riff on Morocco’s rich heritage, with woodwork as well as zellige, tadelakt and arabesque tiling providing the backdrop. The head chef, Ahmad El Hardoum, fuses Moroccan flavours with Mediterranean touches.
izza.com

4.
Schloss Schauenstein
Fürstenau, Switzerland

The ivy-clad, medieval Schloss Schauenstein in the small Alpine town of Fürstenau has long been a place of culinary excellence under chef Andreas Caminada. The Graubünden-born restaurateur is known for his love of local produce, serving up delights such as herb and roe cannelloni, fresh fish and hölzige geiss goat’s cheese.

To mark the hotel’s 20th anniversary, the castle’s interiors have been renovated by Danish design studio Space Copenhagen. Its ancient stone walls, timber beams and winding staircases have been softened with oak, wool and linen finishes. Vintage pieces mingle with modern designs – sofas by &Tradition, Gubi chairs, Frama’s Sintra stone tables – while bedrooms have been refreshed with furniture from the likes of B&B Italia and Cassina. Bathrooms, finished in stone with minimalist fixtures, have rainfall showers and deep tubs.
schauenstein.ch

5.
Park Hyatt Kuala Lumpur
Kuala Lumpur

Park Hyatt’s roll-out across Southeast Asia’s major cities shows no sign of abating. For its 50th outpost worldwide and debut Malaysian property, the brand has taken the top floors of Kuala Lumpur’s Merdeka 118 tower. It is one of the first tenants to move in – the HQ of one of Malaysia’s biggest banks will follow next year. By virtue of a spire on top, Merdeka – meaning “independence” in Malay – is Southeast Asia’s tallest building and its design is intended to reflect the silhouette of the country’s first prime minister, Tunku Abdul Rahman, with a hand pointing skywards in recognition of Malaysia’s independence in 1957.

For the interiors, the hotel’s design team worked with GA Group – the London-based hospitality company behind 1 Hotel Mayfair and Rosewood Schloss Fuschl, a converted Austrian castle – to inject a sense of heritage and place. The entrance stairway is designed to evoke a traditional Malay home, typically built on stilts, while local design elements, including pivoting shutters, feature throughout, alongside works by Malaysian artists such as Tunku Khalsom and Agnes Lau. “Our guests are surrounded by quiet references to local craftsmanship that feel intuitive,” says Herman Kemp, the general manager.

At the Merdeka Grill restaurant on level 75, Norwegian chef Stig Drageide brings a dash of Scandinavia to the likes of spicy Angus steak tartare and cedarwood- roasted salmon. But the real treat is the view of the city’s skyline, particularly of the Petronas Twin Towers and the Stadium Merdeka. “Once you come up to level 75, you’re in a different world,” says Kemp. “It’s impressive no matter how many times you’ve seen it.”
hyatt.com

A pilot’s case for paper maps in an age of automation

Not long ago I was flying in my helicopter when the bracket holding the GPS suddenly snapped. The receiver fell and smashed. I was in the air without a navigation system, with a flight visibility of between 3km and 4km – comparable to a foggy motorway when drivers can see about 300 or 400 metres ahead. My workload doubled immediately. It was a good example of why we shouldn’t rely on tech alone. Sometimes it takes a paper map to get us home safely.

In aviation today, there’s a dangerous over-reliance on automation. Pilots are trained to plot a course on a map, taking into account the weather and the speed at which they will travel. But once they’re out in the working world, they pack away the maps. A few years ago a British team tried to re-enact the famous “Dambusters” raid of 1943. It involved planes locating specific dams in Germany’s Ruhr valley. But I’m sorry to say that most modern navigators can barely find Germany without GPS, let alone a dam.

There are numerous problems with GPS, ranging from iPads shutting down the system to inputting the wrong co-ordinates – not to mention jamming attacks, which currently affects more than 1,000 civilian flights per day. So my advice is to be prepared and practised. Switch off the screen now and then, know where your map is and plot a course before you set off. Convenience suddenly becomes chaos if the backlit screen you’re beholden to breaks.

Andrew Harvey is a UK-based helicopter pilot and instructor with 25 years’ experience. As told to Monocle’s writer and researcher Julia Jenne.

Read next: Why airlines should keep veteran pilots in the skies for longer

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Upping the ante: Four of the best new restaurant openings around the world

1.
Corner Shop 180
London

British entrepreneur Nick Jones can’t get a table at his own restaurant. “It’s a good problem to have,” he tells Monocle at Corner Shop 180. As we queue, a customer recognises him and offers some unsolicited praise. “Great job,” he says of the space off London’s The Strand. “Thank God for that,” says Jones. The restaurateur is humble about what he has achieved since stepping down as the CEO of membership club Soho House in 2022, though he remains a stakeholder.

Part of designer Alex Eagle’s new development 180 Quarter, the venture is designed to be a one-stop shop. “It’s a café, bakery, grocery store and wine bar,” says Jones over a plate of herby rotisserie chicken, a roasted slab of pumpkin and crispy kale (we get a table eventually). “There’s even a gelateria.” But at Corner Shop 180, there’s no real delineation between the spaces. “We don’t have arrows directing you because I believe that a bit of chaos is a good thing,” says Jones.

Hybrid and multi-hyphenated hospitality “concepts” might be in vogue but Jones’s thinking is more practical. “I have never liked the idea of creating something that’s closed in the evenings or on weekends. In a city like London, it doesn’t make sense.”

By day, a tidy stream of commuters and well-heeled thirtysomethings come for patisseries handmade in-house by Populations Bakery. By night, locals and residents of the development’s 115 apartments drop by for a glass of wine, picking up some fresh pesto, a red lentil dhal or a puff pastry pie for dinner.

Come 2026, guests of the nearby 90-key St Clement Hotel will be able to follow suit. “I envisage this as the place where people come to find the last 20 per cent of their groceries and have a bite to eat while they’re at it,” says Jones, who works with about 30 global suppliers. So are there reasons to be optimistic about the capital’s dining scene? “Ignore the naysayers,” says Jones. “Londoners are still obsessed with eating out.”
7 Arundel Street, WC2

2.
Universal Bakehouse
Kuala Lumpur

In The Campus Ampang, Kuala Lumpur’s lively former school-turned-mall, Universal Bakehouse is churning out freshly baked pastries with an Asian twist. Here you’ll find everything from crusty sourdough loaves and coconut and mango choux buns to jalapeño minced beef tartines to red-bean-and-sesame twists.

“We want the community to feel like Universal Bakehouse is part of their daily ritual,” says co-founder Marcus Low. For the interiors, Low took inspiration from the original building’s academic facilities to create an old-school cafeteria atmosphere. Patrons are invited to dine in the semi-outdoor seating area that merges with The Campus’s open corridors. This sense of place is reflected in the bakery’s bold signage that hangs over the entrance, a nod to the street-level charm of traditional Malaysian coffeehouses.
universalbakehouse.my

3.
Tarántula
Paris

Chef Emmanuel Peña, owner of Parisian cantina Tarántula, doesn’t mince his words when it comes to Mexican cooking. “I wanted to open a restaurant without all the Frida Kahlo décor, piñatas, skulls and bursts of folklore,” he tells Monocle. “So many places claim to be Mexican but most of them don’t even use good ingredients.”

After spending more than a decade running the first taqueria in Paris, Peña levelled up with Tarántula, offering a refined take on his culinary roots. Housed in a former 1960s bistro, the space blends vintage Parisian charm (think red-and-white tiled floors and time-worn wooden tables) with a moody Mexican taverna vibe. Dim lighting and a carefully curated soundtrack set the tone, while the deceptively simple menu combines French seasonal produce with bold doses of acid and spice.

His favourite dish? “Honestly, just the grilled onion. It’s such a simple dish but the flavours are complex. People always ask what’s in the ‘sauce’ and they’re surprised when I tell them—it’s just burnt chillies with lime juice and garlic and a grilled roscoff onion.”
13 Bis Rue Keller, 75011

4.
Ultramarinos Demar
Mexico City

Mexico City is known for its long lunches – you might sit down at 14.00 and not look at the bill until four hours later. Opened by chef Lucho Martínez, who runs a string of restaurants in the capital, Ultramarinos Demar is a seafood spot that connects Mexico City with his Veracruz roots. Inside a dining space of sea-foam-green tiles, matching marbled tabletops and terrazzo floors, waiters dash around in white jackets and black ties. “I have always been inspired by old-style restaurants here,” says Martínez. The menu has everything from clam chowder to tuna tostadas – it’s like a favourite beachside restaurant but in the heart of the city.
demar.rest

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How staircases became the latest status symbol in Asian luxury retail

Stairs might be a hassle in many places but in Asian cities, where most of us live in apartments, they are a sign of luxury. French brand Cartier has just opened a boutique in Bangkok’s Siam Paragon shopping mall and the two-storey shop, with its own internal staircase, is being billed as a first of its kind in Thailand.

Duplexes have become all the rage in high-end retail. To keep up with Cartier, other boutiques are now undertaking renovations. Physical shops are the most important sales channel in Thailand and European luxury houses require more room to pamper customers with special “experiences”: intimate dinners and that exclusive staircase to a higher level of service.

A similar shift is under way in Hong Kong, where the Landmark in Central is in the middle of a major remodelling job: its ceilings are being knocked through to build multistorey “maisons” for its wealthy tenants. Amid this scramble for stairs, one of the best retail spaces to open inside a luxury mall in 2025 is stepping in a different direction: rather than up, it’s going down. Friend Friend at the Emporium shopping mall, Siam Paragon’s closest rival, has commandeered two levels of the car park and made use of a car ramp to connect the floors, stocking designer furniture, homeware, kitchenware, hardware, house plants, magazines and vinyl records.

While luxury brands wrestle with being both exclusive and accessible – creating roped-off areas for top spenders and cheaper products for the mass market – Friend Friend is notable for using stairs to elevate an experience.

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Three new public buildings in Rotterdam, Arkansas and Weil am Rhein that are elevating urban life

We have high expectations of public structures for good reason: they are essential for community life. At their best, they provide a welcoming physical framework for socialising, learning and reflection. Here are three benchmark buildings that do all that and more.

1.
Anthony Timberlands Center
USA

Many buildings draw their sense of place from their architects’ use of local materials. The University of Arkansas’s newly finished Anthony Timberlands Center for Design and Materials Innovation is one of them. Designed by Grafton Architects, a Pritzker Prize-winning Irish practice, with US firm Modus Studio and landscape design by Ground Control, the building uses timber sourced primarily from Arkansas forests and mills. “Our design envisions the building’s timber as the structural bones and the enclosing skin,” says Yvonne Farrell, co-founder of Grafton Architects. The cascading roof filters natural light into the interior and is positioned to mitigate the effect of intense winds and seasonal rainfall. The result? A structure that houses classrooms, studios and a lecture hall, while serving as an education in itself.
uark.edu; graftonarchitects.ie

2.
Doshi Retreat
Weil am Rhein, Germany

The final building designed by the late BV Doshi has just been completed on the Vitra Campus in Weil am Rhein. It was inspired by a visit to the Modhera Sun Temple in India. “I showed Balkrishna Doshi a photo of a small shrine I had seen there,” says Rolf Fehlbaum, Vitra’s chairman emeritus, who commissioned the project. “I then asked whether he would be willing to design a place of contemplation for the campus.” Doshi accepted. The result is a winding path, defined by weathering-steel walls, that leads to a small pavilion with two stone benches and a gong. “It is sound, resonating through the visitor’s body, that erases the boundary between self and structure,” says Doshi’s granddaughter, Khushnu Hoof, who helped oversee the project’s completion. “The building reflects the sound, transforming the chamber into a resonant instrument.”
vitra.com

3.
Fenix
Rotterdam

On Rotterdam’s city harbour, the Fenix art museum opened in May as a cultural space dedicated to migration. The first commission for a public cultural building in Europe for Chinese studio mad Architects, the structure weaves together narratives of past and present. Its main structure is a 100-year-old former warehouse. Here, 1920s windows and postwar sliding doors blend effortlessly with new sculptural additions.

Highlights include a swirling stainless-steel “Tornado” staircase that rises in a double helix from the ground floor to the rooftop, which overlooks the Maas river. A vast green roof also reduces the museum’s impact on the environment. Sustainable and experimental, it’s an architectural testament to the museum’s mission: to bridge Rotterdam’s past and future.
fenix.nl; i-mad.com

Why Keiji Takeuchi believes a walking stick can change how we see ageing

Milan-based Japanese designer Keiji Takeuchi has turned his attention to one of humanity’s oldest tools, the walking stick, which is now the subject of a globe-touring exhibition. Speaking at Monocle’s Quality of Life conference this year, he sauntered across the Monocle stage to chat with Andrew Tuck about the elegance of this seemingly modest tool and its links to quality of life and human dignity.

Andrew Tuck: I’ve been looking forward to chatting to you since I saw your humble exhibition at the Triennale during Milan Design Week. Where did the idea come from? What made you think, “I’ll do an exhibition about walking sticks”?

Keiji Takeuchi: The idea came from my travels and from living in Japan and New Zealand, among other things. Being out in the world, I began to observe the different designs of walking sticks. Where I once lived in Japan, I used to see canes that were more functional and practical, whereas in Europe, they were more personal and emotional. I started gathering a collection of walking sticks. It became an important task for me, because while design seems to be tending towards the commercial, I felt more strongly than ever that its true purpose was to bring happiness through the objects that we use every day.

AT: Well, as a man who might need one in the coming years, it certainly piqued my interest. The collection is large, with walking sticks made by well-known designers who you’ve commissioned, as well as found examples. Tell me about the ones you featured.

KT: At the Triennale exhibit, there were 18 sticks from 18 designers. I’m quite closely connected to all of them – I knew what they were good at and how they approached design. There was Hugo Passos, who created a utility-inclined stick with a basket. Henri Frachon is a French designer and artist who is obsessed with holes and their incorporation into design, as evidenced by the stick that he developed. Alban Le Henry turned in a telescopic design that can be adjusted for use by multiple people and aid better posture. One has a grip that helps you to get up from a sitting position on the floor, while another has a lip on the handle from which you can hang a shopping bag. And there are many more.

AT: Do you think that designing walking sticks in such ways could help to give some dignity back to their users?

KT: Absolutely. The walking stick has quite an impressive lineage. Once upon a time, it was a sign of authority or a tool for walking long distances across forests and harsh landscapes. At certain points, it became a weapon. But it has slowly been stigmatised and has become a symbol of disability in some ways. If I gave somebody a walking stick as a present, they wouldn’t like it, as it would make them question themselves: they might think about whether they need one or worry that it draws attention to an inability. It could even obliquely highlight mortality. But why should gifting a tool to somebody mean all that? This was the question of the exhibition.

AT: So many objects in our world today are disposable. Do you think that you have a role to play in the transformation of how we treat things?

KT: I sometimes have the opportunity to speak to students. When I do, the idea of patina often comes up. Let’s say that there are two tables; they’re both clean and well designed but one of them gets damaged. Many will want to throw the “bad” one away, as it’s no longer perfect and they can see what the pristine one looks like and would rather have that. I’m encouraging a shift: sometimes you’ll damage a table but that isn’t necessarily a negative. It’s a mind-set change – to believe that it can be a “patina” – and it’s starting to catch on. If the user likes a product enough that they see it as part of their lives, they’ll take care of it and keep using it. Emotional engagement is important. That’s something that can be affected directly by us in the design process, by making a product correctly and occasionally allowing things to go wrong.

AT: Will the walking stick endure?

KT: Undoubtedly, because the walking stick, in a way, is just a vehicle for a bigger idea – that someone, no matter their age, wants to move and to get out into the world. That’s what this is all about: bringing that spirit back into society, through the design of a simple object.

The forgotten underpass of Tokyo’s Skwat Kameari has become a creative, cultural hotspot

Until recently, east Tokyo’s Kameari neighbourhood was perhaps best known as the setting for KochiKame, a popular manga about a hapless policeman that ran for 40 years before bowing out in 2016. These days, however, there’s a new crowd coming to this far-flung corner of the city – and they’re here to visit a bookshop under the railway tracks of the Joban Line, along with a record store, an exhibition space and a coffee shop.

The tracks that snake out from Kameari Station run high overhead, cutting through a residential area with a narrow road on either side. Underneath this is mostly blank space; there’s some bicycle parking here and there, as well as a small supermarket, but the railway line’s underbelly was otherwise left unused – until now. Stroll 10 minutes along the railway line from the station and you’ll find Skwat Kameari Art Centre (SKAC).

This unconventional cultural outpost is a quiet presence with no splashy signs or bright colours. Instead, big windows and wooden benches encourage passersby to engage with this fresh addition to their neighbourhood. Peer through and you’ll see people rifling through crates of vinyl or scanning bookshelves. A café, Tawks, is also inviting, while a battered but coolly retro sofa sits outside.

Inside is one of the most unconventional bookshops in Tokyo, a hybrid shop-warehouse for art-book distributor Twelvebooks, founded in 2010 by Atsushi Hamanaka. The company’s inventory of 80,000 volumes is stacked here on open metal shelves. Record shop Vinyl Delivery Service (VDS) sells mostly second-hand titles, while the exhibition space is currently showing a video of a collaboration between upcycling brand Format and artist Seongil Choi.

How did this project come to be here, in an area that’s generally considered unfashionable? SKAC is the work of designer Keisuke Nakamura and his firm Daikei Mills. Until 2019, Nakamura ran his office and an events space known as Vacant in Harajuku, one of Tokyo’s buzziest neighbourhoods. For about 10 years, it was a magnet for a cross-section of cultural scenes; but as that era began to draw to a close, Nakamura tentatively launched Skwat to explore his interest in Tokyo’s overlooked places. In a city that’s teeming with construction sites and epic mixed-use developments, he was curious about the possibilities of buildings or, in this case, voids, that ostensibly had no commercial value.

From the outset, there was a strong cultural element to Skwat. Nakamura made his first stab at the project six years ago. It involved taking over a small house and former dry cleaners in Harajuku – a compact building that was painted in a vibrant blue and filled with art books supplied by Twelvebooks. In this cobalt building, they launched Thousandbooks, where every book was priced at ¥1,000 (€5). Nakamura later opened another Skwat pop-up, again with Twelvebooks, in the glitzy Minami-Aoyama district.

The term squatting – Nakamura became familiar with it as a student in London – implies illegal occupation but this was never Skwat’s intention. “Our concept is to flexibly reimagine spaces,” says Daikei Mills’ Masaki Jo. “We’re trying to find value in places that don’t fit within the existing framework.” Nakamura seeks out places that others might not notice. “When it was decided that we would leave Minami-Aoyama and we were searching for our next location, this underpass caught our attention,” says Jo. After a few conversations with the Japan Railway East Urban Development Corporation, the Daikei Mills team saw potential in what was effectively an empty space.

Twelvebooks is bringing the same kind of thinking to the rarefied world of art books. “We want to popularise them,” says Yoko Nakayama, one of Twelvebooks’ staff. “We seek to provide opportunities for people to pick up and browse photo books, and art books published overseas that are often difficult to find in Japan.” The advantage here is that they can also buy them.

Twelvebooks is an organiser of the annual Tokyo Art Book Fair, the largest event of its kind in Asia. Unsurprisingly, the company doesn’t focus on obvious blockbusters. Its most mainstream offerings are a selection of Phaidon titles but otherwise it stocks an eclectic selection of obscure exhibition catalogues, photography books and hard-to-find editions, mostly from overseas. They choose books, mostly from small publishers, that are desirable as objects. Customers might not come with specific titles in mind but they will leave with a slim volume on a house by Balkrishna Doshi, say, or a cookbook from Apartamento.

SKAC’s architecture is determinedly industrial. “From the start, we had a deliberate intention to try to ‘reveal’ the raw materials and structure,” says Jo. “We felt that there is a unique beauty to be found in places that seem forgotten within the city or in spaces left unfinished. So, rather than over-decorating, we intentionally left space and openness.” The result is a bracing palate cleanser after the deluge of crafted good taste that’s on offer elsewhere in the city.

The irony is that Skwat’s radical rejection of retail and property norms has made this place a hit. The SKAC project was originally intended to have a limited run but, at least for now, it continues. “I think that it’s because the way we frame our perspective is a little different,” says Jo. “At SKAC, it’s not just about viewing an exhibition. You can pick up a book, listen to music and spend time over a drink. It serves as a place where people relate to their environment through real experiences.”

Skwat’s success has inevitably attracted interest within Japan and further afield. And while Twelvebooks and VDS are core collaborators here, the next outing could look very different. “Each Skwat project is operated by a changing team with a different composition,” says Jo. “Likewise, SKAC is not a fixed team but rather structured according to the goals and content of each project.”

An outing to SKAC should be on the list of any curious traveller in Japan. It will take visitors to a pocket of Shitamachi (downtown Tokyo) that they almost certainly wouldn’t see otherwise – and they can also stop in at the new museum for KochiKame, which opened earlier this year. The project is a radical reimagining of the conventional bookshop format and offers a thought-provoking perspective on what to do with the overlooked pockets of our cities. If you do make it here, come with an open mind, not a shopping list.
twelve-books.com

Read next: The Monocle City Guide to Tokyo, featuring the best hotels, restaurants and retail spots in the Japanese capital

Thom Mayne on designing cities, museums and The Line in Saudi Arabia

“I’m more interested in the compelling than the beautiful.” The message is the medium at Thom Mayne’s studio, a nondescript cube of concrete breeze blocks on a busy corner in Culver City, Los Angeles. Across its walls are statements such as the one above, rendered and layered in stainless steel and crawling like calligraphy over its façade.

At the age of 81, Mayne remains an imposing figure – born in Connecticut, he was raised in Chicago and Los Angeles, where he forged his legacy. From humble beginnings in a studio above a bait shop in Venice Pier, he founded Morphosis in 1972 and co-established the Southern California Institute of Architecture (SCI-ARC).

After greeting us at his studio’s front door (which has “door” written on it, also in metal), Mayne leads Monocle into a cave-like workspace. His practice spans continents, from Orange County museums to Saudi Arabia’s new US embassy, but he’s far from everybody’s architect – his buildings frequently raise the hackles of critics and detractors. He belongs to no school, outside of a modernist’s imperative to always make things new.

Los Angeles is full of concrete boxes. How has the vernacular of the city influenced you?
Early in my career, I began to think about the idea of “architecture without architects”. A building that isn’t “architecture”, as it were, will still have its own characteristics and have formal qualities, even if you strip the design right down. Los Angeles is a temporary city. It is made up of these simple little buildings that were almost the first growth of the city. Architects were the second growth, taking down the little buildings or adding to them. And over time, the city was filled in.

Your first studio was in Venice Beach. How did the area inspire your early work?
At the time, it was an affordable place to be. It was pretty rough and I would hear gunshots at night. I had only just finished school and everybody used to gather at this café called DuPar’s, where you could get dinner with a beer for a few bucks. Ed Ruscha was there with this whole group of architects and artists, who were just kids then. I remember buying one of his early books, which was all about stripping stuff down visually. I connected with that.

How should Los Angeles rebuild itself after the recent wildfires?
At an architectural level, it’s a question of materials. So many of the houses here are faux-something – people want to build faux-Greek villas, for example. But they should build it like an actual Greek villa: make it out of stone, rather than flammable wood. In the recent fires, the architecture became the fuel. Fires of this scale happen maybe once or twice a century. But they can be used to create a positive outcome.

You worked on the original designs for The Line, a 170km-long development in Saudi Arabia arranged in linear form through the desert. Why did you want to design a city in this way?
I’m interested in how landscape informs architecture. They can have a hybrid, in-between relationship in which the project becomes more like “augmented land” than a building in the purest sense. In Saudi, there are mountains and ocean, and it’s a site the size of Belgium – a fascinating scale. It has since become a complicated project that many different people have worked on.

In California, you designed the Orange County Museum of Art. You described the building as “a fragment, not a whole”. What does that mean?
The project is open-ended – it’s not static. I want my buildings to be dynamic, with the viewer translating it and understanding it on their own terms. That would be different for someone who is highly educated in architecture and someone who is not.

You have said before that there’s “no zeitgeist”. What does that mean for architecture?
Go to a place that has vast amounts of new architecture – Shanghai or Shenzhen, for example – and there’ll be a couple of hundred buildings that are more than 50 or 60 storeys tall. There isn’t a set of constraints or rules, so you get a city that’s something of the moment and not about agreement or continuity. It’s a very modern notion of the city: a political, social and cultural expression of the individual, personified and concretised in the architecture of these cities. They give it form. And that’s where the conversation starts.

The architecture of empathy: Yvonne Farrell and Shelley McNamara on building for communities

Soon after graduating from University College Dublin in 1974, Yvonne Farrell and Shelley McNamara began teaching architecture at their alma mater and, shortly after, co-founded Grafton Architects on the Dublin street of the same name. In the first few decades of their practice, they predominantly worked on projects in their homeland, from schools to public housing, but a competition to design a lecture hall at Università Luigi Bocconi in Milan (completed 2008), launched them onto the global stage. They have now worked in cities from Lima to London. Additionally, they have curated the Venice Biennale’s International Architecture Exhibition (2018), picked up a World Building of the Year award and were awarded the Pritzker Prize in 2020.

When Monocle visits their studio, models and maquettes are being prepared for competition entries and team members are poring over drawings. Awards and trophies, from Silver Lions to Prix de l’Équerre d’Argent, are set on shelves. Despite the accolades, the duo remain committed to building with clients and communities in mind. “Architecture, whether it’s a door or a huge campus, has the capacity to be everything,” says Farrell. “If it’s done properly, it’s a gift to humanity. And if it’s an afterthought, it’s absolutely horrible because it affects everybody’s life.”

How did your early life shape your desire to work in architecture?
Yvonne Farrell: I grew up in Tullamore in the middle of Ireland. It was a small place but it had a public swimming pool, which was unusual for an Irish town at the time. Every child would cycle to it in summer. I saw a freedom in having that generous public infrastructure. That’s why architecture is amazing: it’s building the world. It’s misunderstood as a discipline, with people seeing it as a series of Taj Mahals instead of the infrastructural web that makes community possible. Shelley and I talk about it as built skin.
Shelley McNamara: I grew up in Lisdoonvarna, a spa town in County Clare. For a month every year, I would watch farmers come after the harvest to have their sulphur baths and massages. What I loved about it was that all ages and income groups would use the same place in the same way. It shaped my views. I saw the mixing of people in towns and cities as the secret that brings an exchange of energy that everyone benefits from. Architecture provides the framework for this.

Tell us about your approach to practice.
YF: For us, one of the lovely components of architecture is that it’s a social and cultural responsibility, where the work is usually initiated by the client. You don’t go off and think up a design irrespective of the people who commission you. Instead, they come with their hard-earned money and say, “Can you translate my words – the brief, the list of needs and requirements – into space? And can that space have some cultural value?”
SM: We start by trying to articulate how a space might feel, not how it’s organised. With the Anthony Timberlands Center for Design and Materials Innovation at the University of Arkansas, for instance, we loved the idea of creating a big hall, in the form of a workshop, as the heart of the space. The result is a beehive of activity where you’re never separated from the process of making.

How important is it for your projects to have a strong sense of place?
YF: It’s about cultural continuity, which is what anchors us in the world. If you’re not connected with your culture, you’re floating. Even nomadic people have a home. It might not be a physical one – maybe it’s a memory, a person or a thing. We need to consider the geological and landscape aspects of culture too. That might be remembering that there’s a breeze from the ocean that a contemporary work could possibly absorb.
SM: The interesting thing about this outlook is that there isn’t just a building and then culture – there’s an interconnectedness of it all at multiple levels.

How can a work of architecture reflect this view?
SM: One of our projects that captures this is the headquarters that we designed for the Dublin Electricity Supply Board. It was on a site where Georgian-era townhouses had been knocked down in the 1960s. People were very sensitive about their loss. Our design embedded a new tiered structure along the street, with façades at the same height as the original streetscape, referencing the original language of that part of the city. The question was how to make something authentic that’s also directly linked to the past. We found the answer by learning from an Italian architect about how to make a beautiful door and steps that feel as though they’re from the 18th century, referencing the doorways that were once there. The key to this was being true to the craft – making real brick walls and not brick cladding like so many buildings.
YF: Architecture is a spectrum of good, ordinary and, sometimes, gorgeous. It’s important to remember this – and that there’s a place for it all. There is, for instance, a spectrum of decent housing. You can have a lovely place to live with a terrace looking out over a beautiful bay or an ordinary, light-filled home within walking distance to a good school. You can look at it in the same sort of way as you would the joy of fiction: you can read The Grapes of Wrath or poet Eavan Boland’s work. It’s like that with architecture.