Issues
Five veteran journalists discuss the future of news in the face of tech failures and election
When former US president Donald Trump sat down with the billionaire Elon Musk for an interview earlier this year, things didn’t quite go to plan. Livestreaming on X, the feed wasn’t accessible for most viewers for the first 40 minutes. Then the two participants were stuck on mute. Ultimately, the whole thing ran to a rambling two hours. Musk blamed the glitches on a cyberattack, which is certainly possible. Yet the ad hoc production and discursive chat also underlined the teething troubles of these new, supposedly disruptive sources of where people get their news and views.
With a month to go until the US decides its next president, monocle spoke to five veteran journalists about how to cover such a twisting, turning election. We often hear that it is a tricky moment for legacy broadcasters and news outlets. That audiences are leaking to influencer interviewers and chatty online anchors, and trust in the trade is at an all-time low. Yet the journalists and teams we spoke to still command vast audiences, week-in-week-out, and they do so using old-school principles.
We travelled from newsrooms in the American South to studios in Washington via the Democratic National Convention in Chicago to see these journalists at work. There’s no doubt that news is changing, and many of our interviewees have also branched out into personal platforms like podcasts and newsletters. But, for now, much of the news is still as we knew it.
1.
Local hero
Leroy Chapman Jr
Editor in chief, ‘Atlanta Journal Constitution’

Atlanta is among the fastest-growing cites in the US, while Georgia, where Joe Biden won by 11,000 votes last time, is among the swingiest of the swing states. This gives the local paper outsize influence in this election. “This is also one of the fastest diversifying counties,” says Chapman. “This is what America’s going to look like in years to come.”
Chapman describes himself as a ‘rabid non-partisan’. “Our job is to bring light but not heat,” he says. “We can bring light to what makes the parties dysfunctional; what gets in the way of them serving the country.”
Ahead of this election, the AJC opened three new bureaux and is offering voter guides to the candidate options on local ballots across the state. “We have elections in 159 Georgia counties – for the sheriff, the district attorney, officials who stand a chance of having more impact on [Georgians’] lives than who ends up president,” says Chapman. With the loss or hollowing out of so many local outlets, people simply do not know who they’re voting for or who’s funding their campaigns. “There’s a lot of opportunity and public desire for that very basic information. It’s also what our democracy demands.”
The facts
‘Atlanta Journal Constitution’ founded: 1868 [as The Atlanta Constitution]
Circulation: 80,000-100,000 for weekday edition
Motto: “The Substance and Soul of the South”
2.
Cool head
Bret Baier
Chief political anchor, Fox News

After Donald Trump was shot in the ear in July, Bret Baier was one of a select few reporters the former president called. Not that the long-standing Fox anchor is a toad for the former president; in fact, Baier was on the sharp end of a Trumpian online tirade last year after a grilling interview. “What you’re going to get from me is fair, respectful, but sometimes tough,” says Baier, whose face still has a hint of pancake makeup after recording his Special Report, which airs every weeknight at 18:00 Eastern time. “To do that with [Trump], who’s perceived to be more aligned with [Fox’s] opinion is, I think, a good thing for news.”
Baier has anchored the nightly slot since 2009. Among the network’s on-air talent, he has carved out a niche for doing less of the editorialising – and virulent anti-Democrat monologues – that characterises much of Fox’s output. “I’m trying to take the temperature down,” he says.
Once the network of conservatives, Fox executives say that in this election cycle more Democratic politicians want to come on air to reach crucial swing voters. Common Ground – a format that Baier himself came up with – brings together politicians from opposing sides of the House to talk through a piece of bipartisan legislation that they’re working through together. “Covering both sides [in this election], with the structure that we do, is a comfort for some folks and for that we [attract an] audience,” says Baier. He always presents the evening news in a starched collar and never drifts into the kind of animated outrage of some of his Fox colleagues. There is something pleasantly throwback about Baier’s evening news show: “I think there is hunger for the more formal way,” he says.
Baier has written extensively about former president Dwight D Eisenhower and the transition of power to the Kennedy administration that kicked off the 1960s and changed America forever. The most recent transition in 2021 was fraught, as Donald Trump famously refused to accept the result. How can the media do better if that happens again?
“I was on air that day and we did a pretty good job,” says Baier. “I think we could speak less to the extremes and get to that middle ground where people agree. There is a lot of space there.”
The facts
‘Special Report’ viewers: 2.9 million every night (July)
Increase in Democrats appearing on Fox this year: 41 per cent
Nightly sign-off: “Fair, Balanced and Unafraid”
3.
Trusted host
Katty Kay
US special correspondent, BBC, and host, ‘The Rest is Politics: US’

Much like her current title at the BBC, Katty Kay’s role as US special correspondent, and her broader position in the American media ecosystem, is, well, somewhat special. It is rare for a non-American news broadcaster (Kay is British-Swiss), working for a foreign newsroom, to be as close to a household name as Kay has become, since she began reporting from Washington in 1996.
Kay’s journalism has cut across the loose partisan lines that characterise much of the US broadcast news landscape. This, she says, is because her reporting and analysis is tethered to her deep contacts with political figures on either side of the political divide, rather than being informed by a political agenda of any given stripe.
“Maybe it is because I’m an outsider; I actually don’t have an American passport,” she tells monocle. “But I’ve been covering American politics for 20 years, and it has taken a long time, but I have built up a reservoir of trust with the people that I speak to. And whether I talk to people through podcasts, on television, or in print, I know that my audience is following me where I am going.”
It is in that spirit of seeking trustworthy perspectives on the upheavals of a dramatic US presidential election that has drawn listeners in their millions to Kay’s latest venture, weekly politics podcast The Rest is Politics: US. The show is produced by the UK-based podcast studio Goalhanger, and Kay acts as co-host alongside former White House communications director Anthony Scaramucci.
“It’s interesting with podcasts, because everyone bemoaned the fact that we had an attention deficit disorder – yet here are people happy to listen to a discussion for 30 or 40 minutes,” says Kay. “And these are young audiences who are happy to take the time to listen to something deeply and thoughtfully. We’ve broken down some of the hierarchy of the media – it’s gone.” Listeners respond to a format that allows discussions to flow more freely. “The days where somebody could just sit behind a desk and present the dry facts – that’s not good enough anymore. The onus is on us to deliver information in a way that our audiences want. And they want to know that they’re spending their time with someone they trust.”
The facts
First international posting: Zimbabwe in 1990 before postings in London, Tokyo and Washington
Number of US elections covered: Nine
‘The Rest is Politics: US’ downloads: 18 million since launch
4.
Latino voice
Maria Hinojosa
Executive producer of ‘Latino USA’ and founder of Futuro Media

When the Pulitzer-prize winning radio host and producer Maria Hinojosa emigrated to the US from Mexico as a child in the 1960s, the US’s southern border was not as politically fraught as it is today. “I grew up at a time when immigrants were actually sought-after in this country,” Hinojosa says. Her father Raúl, a doctor, was invited to join a research team at the university of Chicago, which would go on to devise the world’s first cochlear implants. “It was a time when the brain drain of other countries was a ‘brain gain’ for the United States,” she adds.
Among the rituals the Hinojosa family adopted upon their arrival in Chicago’s south side was to tune in to the nightly news. “Television was our source of understanding the US as new immigrants,” Hinojosa says. “But I never saw myself reflected [on, or in, the news] in any way.”
So, in 1992, when Hinojosa was invited to host Latino USA – the first English-language news programme devoted to Hispanic affairs on US public radio – she jumped at the chance. Broadcast each week on more than 240 public radio stations across the country, Latino USA is now America’s longest-running radio programme of its kind. The show’s stories and investigations reflect multiple aspects of life among the US’s second-largest demographic group. Hinojosa’s deftness during interviews, plus her ability to move nimbly between subjects, attracts high-profile guests – including vice president Kamala Harris, who sat down with her for an interview last September.
But despite also being one of the fastest-growing demographics, Hinojosa argues that the US’s Latino communities are still covered in broad brushstrokes in much of the mainstream press. Shows like Latino USA, as well as the documentaries and podcasts produced by Futuro Media, the production studio Hinojosa established in 2010, aim to chronicle the US’s Latino populations with a nuance often absent from news coverage elsewhere. “This is a danger, because Latinos and Latinas are the swing votes within the swing states. To not acknowledge the power of those votes, and to not help educate Latino voters and, indeed, the entire country, about the power of the Latino vote – that is a problem. And it’s just bad journalism.”
The facts
Launch of ‘Latino usa’: 1993
Recent reports: Press freedom in Venezuela; Mexico’s election; and Palestinian solidarity movements in Latin America
On air greeting: “Now, dear listener…”
5.
Calm hands
Mary Hager
Executive producer of ‘Face the Nation’ at CBS

The mantra at Face the Nation’s first editorial meeting of the week is, “It’s only Wednesday.” This means that everything is still to play for until showtime on Sunday morning: never settle on a lead interview too early, hold your nerve, be prepared to rip up the running order on Saturday night. It’s a crucial news instinct in an election of handbrake turns and is instilled in the team by executive producer Mary Hager. She has shepherded the show for the last 14 years and has been at cbs for 30 years. Alongside her team of producers, Hager decides who gets grilled each week – usually one or two politicians – and which news lines to pursue along with in-house analysis. “The bottom line is this: how are Americans going to vote and what do we need to do – what do they need to know – to help them make up their minds?”
It’s been a rocky few years for America’s news networks amid declining audiences and shrinking newsrooms. cbs was not immune to this. Yet Face the Nation, 70 years on since it first aired, remains the most-watched show in the crucial Sunday morning spot. As networks battle for attention with discursive podcasts and livestreamed influencer chat shows, the programme has not budged from its undiluted format that typically puts newsmakers in a tight spot.
Armfuls of lanyards hang from a hook on the wall of Hager’s office in Washington, alongside the relics, flags and flyers of past conventions and caucuses. Colleagues say the EP embodies her own mission statement of “News not noise.” While many journalists talk about the unprecedented nature of what’s currently unfolding in American politics, Hager has seen dramatic upsets before: “The biggest challenge has been staying away from what we call the ‘bright shiny objects’,” she explains. “These are the grenades that are thrown by either campaign: the campaign staff shakeups and all the insider stuff.”
She says this election is happening while public distrust in government is increasing. “Our role is to present [officials] as government, push them, challenge and question them but still respect them,” says Hager. “It builds trust in us. If we’re going to take elected officials seriously and give them respect, then hopefully that will trickle down to the public.”
The facts
First aired: 1954
‘Face the Nation’ viewers: 2.8 million per year
How many elections Mary Hager has covered: 17
Fresh approaches to transport, logistics, and lifestyle products making waves
Transport: Canada
Hello, Hullo
The ferry voyage from Vancouver on the mainland to Vancouver Island, which lies off British Columbia’s coastline, is one of Canada’s most picturesque commutes. These routes have been served since 1960 by government-owned BC Ferries. For years, attempts to open up the passenger-ferry sector to healthy, private competition have hit choppy waters. That is, until summer 2023. A new, privately operated passenger service joined the region’s fleets, setting sail for the 70-minute voyage between Vancouver and the waterfront city of Nanaimo, on Vancouver Island.

Cheerfully named Hullo, the service was launched by the Vancouver Island Ferry Company, a new operator, which was founded in Nanaimo in 2022. In its first year, 400,000 foot passengers used Hullo’s fleet, which consists of two speedy dff 4212 ships built by Dutch yard Damen at its facility in Vietnam. Plans to increase the number of daily journeys next spring – including at night – are already in place.
Hullo’s foray into the passenger-ferry sector has been smoother sailing than those of its predecessors for two reasons: high population growth in Vancouver and on the island, plus the addition of onward transport networks, including buses and seaplane services, at every ferry terminal.
The Entrepreneurs
Laura Kramer on: A clean vision
Often the answer is right in front of you, if the glasses that you’re wearing are clean enough to let you see it. For Gaëtan Gaye, the founder of Antwerp-based eyewear-care brand Alpagota, it was a matter of spotting a gap in the €130bn-plus eyewear market. “Cleaning products represent only 1 per cent of the total revenue, so we saw untapped potential,” he tells monocle. “If you wear prescription glasses or sunglasses, one thing is certain: you will need to clean them.”
With a background in the world of luxury horology, Gaye applied the lessons that he learned from timepieces to eyewear. “Fine watchmaking is all about the details,” he says. “ You’re not selling time – you are actually selling an experience. So I asked myself, ‘How can I enhance that for eyeglass wearers?’”
Alpagota launched in 2022 with a line of aromatic lens cleaners in refillable glass bottles, designed to look good on display, and cleaning cloths. The products combine high-quality clarity with fragrances such as Sandalwood & Matcha and Eucalyptus & Patchouli. “The look and smell were very important to me,” says Gaye. “The bottles have mid-century aesthetics and we worked with a perfumer in France because we wanted it to be a sophisticated multisensory ritual, so you look forward to doing it daily. I didn’t want it to smell of lemon or orange.”

In less than a year, the brand has taken off, expanding to Belgium, Germany, Hong Kong, Poland, Portugal, Spain and Switzerland, with a distributor in Japan and agents in France and Scandinavia. Gaye partly credits its success to fairs in the optical industry. “We launched at Silmo Paris to scale a bit of business,” he says. “It’s a product that you need to see and touch. I rely on retail and wholesale so, from the start, I thought about a margin and finding the suppliers.”
As the brand continues to grow internationally, Gaye is planning to build on the momentum and help people to see lenses and frames as medical devices that deserve elevated maintenance.
For more visionary ideas, listen to Monocle’s ‘The Entrepreneurs’ radio show and podcast.
Logistics: France
Winds of change
On 3 September the Anemos, the world’s largest cargo sailboat, completed its maiden voyage from Le Havre to New York, carrying champagne, cognac and jam across the Atlantic on wind power only. The 81-metre vessel is full of cutting-edge seafaring technology. It can carry more than 1,000 tonnes of cargo, thanks to its two towering masts, and is the brainchild of French shipping company towt (TransOceanic Wind Transport).

The company has raised the funds necessary to commission a fleet of wind-powered cargo ships that emit only 10 per cent of the emissions of conventional versions, while remaining cost competitive.
Though towt’s ships have only a fraction of the capacity of conventional cargo vessels, it took the Anemos 18 days to deliver its payload to New York Harbour. That’s less than most container ships, which often have to wait days to unload at a select few ports. towt’s vessels are equipped with cranes that allow them to unload at any dock.
The Anemos’s voyage is a turning point for the French company, which has secured more than $200m of contracts and plans to deploy a fleet of 200 ships by 2035.
The cultural agenda for autumn 2024
Q&A: France
Lambert Wilson
French-language show La Maison on Apple TV+ follows two rival families as they compete for dominance in Paris’s high-fashion world. The cast includes Lambert Wilson as star designer Vincent Ledu. Here he discusses his role, his character’s taste and learning to sew.

Your character is a harsh person. Did you enjoy playing Vincent?
I like playing kings. Vincent reigned at a time when he only had to answer to critics in magazines, so he is not prepared for the online criticism that he receives. I understand how social media might be a struggle for people who are not used to it.
What is your favourite piece from Vincent’s wardrobe?
The costume designer introduced me to oversized trousers by Yohji Yamamoto, which have incredible lines that work well for tall men. They have now become an essential part of my outfit when I’m on stage. I have started dressing in all black like Vincent too.
How has this show influenced your outlook on fashion?
I learned the basics of lacemaking and sewing for the show, so I now pay more attention to how clothes are constructed. I have continued to hone my skills since shooting. I don’t think that I could make a whole suit but I could definitely stitch a perfect shoulder.
Literature: Brazil & USA
Bruna Dantas Lobato

Bruna Dantas Lobato is a writer and translator of Brazilian literature. Her translation of Stênio Gardel’s novel, The Words That Remain, won the 2023 National Book Award for Translated Literature, while her own fiction has been published in The New Yorker. Dantas Lobato’s debut novel, Blue Light Hours, will be published this October. It focuses on the changing relationship between a mother and daughter when the latter moves from her hometown in Brazil to university in the US. Here, Dantas Lobato speaks to us about the novel’s themes, her writing process and the art of translation.
How did ‘Blue Light Hours’ come to be?
I really wanted to write the book and have it be an immigrant novel; a campus novel; a mother-daughter novel. But I also wanted it to be simple and focused on their relationship. I’m not one of those writers who can plan ahead. I didn’t know how to pull it off until I started writing, so I kept reshaping it and moving things around until I found out what I was actually trying to do. It is very dialogue-heavy. I love writing speech.
How did you get into translation?
When I moved to the US, I was reading all these wonderful books from Brazil that I couldn’t share with the people around me. So much of the writing coming out of Brazil was beautiful and no one knew.
Has your work as a translator influenced your own writing practice?
Being a translator is like having training wheels as a fiction writer. You constantly think about form, dramatic effects and how to construct a scene. I also had a lot of guidance from more experienced authors who knew what they were doing better than I did. I am a translator because I’m a writer – and I know I’m a writer because I’m a translator.
Arts: USA
Kiosk culture

“Are We on Air?” says the awning of Kiosk-o-thèque on Hollywood’s Sunset Boulevard. It’s the latest project by Arman Naféei, host of a monthly podcast also called Are We on Air? and founder of creative agency Studio Neu. The kiosk is opposite the Chateau Marmont. Naféei spotted it when he was the hotel’s director of ambiance, a role that tasked him with creating the perfect mood for guests.
“I had my eyes on the newsstand when it shut down during the coronavirus pandemic,” Naféei tells monocle. “I knew that the location would be perfect for my kiosk. A million cars drive by every week. I call it an experiential billboard.”

The kiosk is a mix of gallery, bookshop and podcast studio. It is also used for events, from a book-signing party with artist Nadia Lee Cohen to a pop-up celebration of the latest film by director Yorgos Lanthimos. “It’s anything you want it to be,” says Naféei. But among the vintage magazines and vinyl, you’ll still find the weekend papers.
To hear the full interview with Arman Naféei, listen to ‘The Stack’ on Monocle Radio.
Film: Thailand
Independent visions

“Cinema still excites me as much now as it did when I was a child,” says Thai filmmaker Apichatpong Weerasethakul, the writer and director of dream-inspired films such as Palme d’Or winner Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives and Memoria, starring Tilda Swinton. Weerasethakul the independent auteur, who writes his own scripts and expertly secures funding from organisations in France and Germany, must split his schedule with Weerasethakul the artist, a busy man, who hosts exhibitions around the world.
October sees the 54-year-old host two shows at the Centre Pompidou in Paris. Night Particles is an exhibition of video artworks using projectors to channel Thai horror films. It’s textbook Weerasethakul. A Conversation with the Sun, meanwhile, is his first experiment with virtual reality. The videos encourage audience participation and are accompanied by a score by the late Japanese composer Ryuichi Sakamoto. But Weerasethakul has made it clear that virtual reality isn’t the future of cinema. Instead, he views it as an “open space” in which directors set a stage for the audience rather than try to control everything – as in traditional cinema. Weerasethakul is a purist about his feature films, which are intentionally shot for the big screen.
His next film will be shot in Sri Lanka and loosely based on the work of British science-fiction writer Arthur C Clarke. It’s a subject close to Weerasethakul’s heart as he has read Clarke’s work from a young age. “Looking through a camera makes me feel as curious as I did when I encountered science fiction as a child.”
What motels say about the American life
Along America’s highways you come across a country no longer visible in New York, Los Angeles or San Francisco. Everyday life here has little to do with the concerns of those in big cities, where people drink coffee with oat milk, a bouncer reminds you to behave appropriately when entering a club and men with beards introduce themselves with their pronouns at parties for fear of being addressed incorrectly. This other America is symbolised by the motel, which is a quintessential US institution. The word motel is a portmanteau of “motor” and “hotel”, which also describes its purpose. The long, one- or two-storey buildings offer car travellers a rather low-threshold entry to somewhere to stay overnight before moving on – a bed with a parking space in front of it.
In this sense, motels are the epitome of freedom and adventure. You can’t avoid them on a roadtrip. You might drive hundreds of miles on straight roads with the radio turned up loud but as night and tiredness set in you might be drawn in by the promise of bright signs reading “Melody Ranch Motel”, “Death Valley Inn” or “Motel 6”.
Only the lit-up words “No vacancy” indicate that you should drive on. They come from the time before the internet. The fact that there are no rooms available is not a big deal, as there will be other motels. People haven’t historically chosen a motel for its special location, much less its interior design: reservations are unnecessary. A motel is on the way. You take what comes or move on to the next one.
Places of mischief and the uncanny
Many motels still in business in the US have seen better days. It’s precisely this shabby and worn-out look that makes them so charmingly anachronistic today. In luxury hotels, everything seems untouched, sterile and clean, right down to the ribbon around the toilet lid. When you enter a motel room, however, you can almost smell the stories that have taken place within the four walls.
There might be a table and chair, two plastic coat hangers, a large bed with a thick mattress that can – for better or worse – also feel alive. There’s a fitted carpet. A small, fenced-in pool in front of the window, deserted in temperatures of 40c. A few streets away, you’re likely to find a gun shop. There is coughing all night through the thin walls. On one side, there is the mysterious sound of furniture being moved for some unknowable but nonetheless intriguing purpose.
The guests who visit from their mobile homes stuff the pockets of their xxl trousers with packaged biscuits at breakfast and sip filter coffee from paper cups in silence. The people at the reception of the often family-run motels are impossibly friendly in that inimitably American way. When you leave, someone named Bill or Susan always shakes your hand and wishes you a safe onward journey with apparent sincerity.

Motels are a reminder of the past perhaps because they remind us of so many American films and novels, whose atmosphere they have shaped, and which have in turn been shaped by them. Maybe that is why we romanticise them. They are part of pop culture, usually places of doom and the uncanny, like the Bates Motel in Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho, where Janet Leigh takes her carefree shower. In the Coen brothers’ Fargo and in David Lynch’s Lost Highway, the motel serves as a hideout for criminals and secret lovers. Ridley Scott lets friends Thelma and Louise stay at the Oklahoma City Motel, where the former is seduced and robbed by a handsome cowboy.
You wouldn’t be surprised, nor disappointed, to see the travelling woman in the red dress from Edward Hopper’s painting Western Motel behind a window. She sits on a sofa, her suitcases ready, her car waiting in front of the window in the bright sun. Motels attract lonely people who are trying to escape from themselves.
Miranda July’s daring love suite
According to The New York Times, there were more than 61,000 motels in the US in 1964. They became popular after the construction of the highway network in the 1950s and 1960s. Interstate highways have since crossed parts of the entire country from north to south and west to east. Today, there are said to be about 16,000 motels left. But now, in a way that few might have predicted, motels are having a moment, the newspaper claims. Younger people are discovering motel culture and its aesthetics. Not just on their travels: some are even buying run-down motels and renovating them. On Instagram, motel fans admire the refreshed design of the originally modest inns. This is also being shown in television series such as Motel Makeover and Motel Rescue.
US filmmaker, artist, and writer Miranda July celebrates the motel in the same way in her new novel On All Fours. The first-person narrator, an artist, invests $20,000 of prize money to renovate a cheap motel room in a Los Angeles suburb where she is stranded on her roadtrip. She transforms it into a suite with fragrant soaps, fluffy designer towels and velvet armchairs in order to experience a wild affair within it.
The bourgeois bohemians might move into the motel and paint over its cloudy walls. They might add a new layer to what came before them, while also perhaps preserving it. In the old motels, however, life goes on just as it ever did. You close the door to your room, return the key at first light and drive off early in the morning with the quiet feeling of having gotten away.
This article was first published in the ‘Neue Zürcher Zeitung’. Translated by Monocle and edited for clarity and length.
About the writer:
Based in Zürich, Schmid has been a part of Swiss newspaper Neue Zürcher Zeitung’s editorial team since 2015. She has also been an editor at Annabelle and deputy editor in chief at Das Magazin, and is the author of several books.
Interview: Woo Youngmi, founder of Wooyoungmi and Solid Homme
Woo Youngmi says that she has always done things recklessly. In 1988, when South Korea was just emerging from military rule, she debuted Solid Homme as one of the nation’s first design-led menswear labels, introducing new shapes and silhouettes into what was then a fashion hinterland. She didn’t stop there. In the early 2000s she left Seoul, where she had achieved critical and commercial success, for Paris, where she re-established herself. “I just couldn’t envision the next 20 or 30 years only working in Seoul,” she says.
Woo arrived in the French capital without a game plan. She debuted her second label, Wooyoungmi, focusing on higher-end luxury, and became the first South Korean designer to take part in Paris Fashion Week. Within a few years, the designer became a respected figure on Paris’s runways and established partnerships with department stores such as Le Bon Marché and Selfridges.
Today the Korean Wave has swept across the world and global audiences are familiar with the country’s flair for sharp tailoring, as well as its catchy pop music, gripping films and innovative skincare. Woo, who has contributed to the phenomenon, remains a market leader: her Wooyoungmi shows are always oversubscribed in Paris and praised for offering fresh ideas on tailoring, workwear and, lately, uniform dressing. The brand has also been broadening its scope to include jewellery, accessories and womenswear and has opened a new Paris flagship on rue Saint- Honoré, a stone’s throw from the boutiques of Chanel, Dior and Loro Piana – a signal of the designer’s growing luxury ambitions.
monocle visits Woo at her company’s Seoul headquarters, where her autumn collection (a mix of wide-leg denim, tweed suits and drop-shoulder suede jackets) is displayed alongside tapestries depicting the work of Basque artist Eduardo Chillida. She tells us about her relationship with Paris, her design philosophy and her constantly evolving creative drive.

Why did you choose to move to Paris from Seoul when its menswear scene was then quite limited?
I didn’t think in those terms. I just asked myself which city had an open mind for a young designer and the answer was Paris. People were saying that Milan was the centre of the world for menswear but that has changed since then. Still, I was very lost when I arrived. I had never felt that kind of helplessness up to that point but I had made up my mind so I jumped into it headfirst. I felt as though I was up against a huge wall but what could I do? I just had to keep going.
You were the first South Korean woman to design menswear and you have since expanded into womenswear. How did you make those choices?
Every designer’s identity comes from within so it can feel uncomfortable to make something that one can’t personally wear. But I found that if it isn’t for me, I can be a lot more imaginative. I decided to start creating womenswear too but only after turning 60. When you put yourself in the frame of mind of thinking about what you want to wear, your designs can become narrow because you’re projecting who you are and who you aspire to be. At this age, I feel fortunate that I can design womenswear without constraints.
Let’s turn back to the 1990s, when South Korean men began having more disposable income and developed a taste in fashion. What was that like?
There was menswear before me but it was extremely conservative. I was almost committing heresy with my designs. People would say that it’s neither feminine nor masculine, a kind of “soft” menswear. But I didn’t give it too much thought. I was only 30. How much strategy do you think I had back then? I just did what felt right.
What do you think about the Korean Wave?
I see it as the culmination of various cultural categories such as K-pop, K-food and K-films. Over the past 70 years, South Korea has undergone rapid economic development but before that we had a long history that cultivated a unique culture. We had a wealth of content; it just hadn’t been introduced to the world until recently. The fashion industry should ride this wave well. I hope that a group of designers who can represent and explain South Korean fashion – not just me – will form a strong, united presence in the global market.
You have been focusing on suiting and uniform dressing in recent collections. Why is the concept of a uniform becoming appealing again?
It’s a reaction to the fatigue brought on by the long dominance of streetwear. There’s a renewed appreciation for elegant, well-put-together clothing. Fashion, by its nature, is driven by a desire for novelty. But the key to sustaining a brand’s identity lies in creating something new while not being carried away by trends.
Why did you decide to open your new Paris shop in such a prime luxury spot?
Our first shop was in the Marais, a youthful area, and it made sense financially. But I now felt that it was the moment to move closer towards luxury. But, for me, luxury isn’t about price: I wanted to go up a level and that meant going to rue Saint-Honoré. That decision felt pretty reckless but once again we just went for it.
wooyoungmi.com; solidhomme.com
Why travellers are heading north to Norway’s Lofoten Islands – a hidden gem of the wild and windswept north
If you’re on holiday in Nusfjord, you’ll likely have come far. You’ll probably have changed planes in Oslo, boarded another in Bodø and ended up careening over the crags of Norway’s northwestern coast in your little Dash 8 turboprop, where the dark islands look like whales breaching in the brine. Then you’ll have dipped a wing toward the Lofoten archipelago, where the bays are turquoise and the summer grass is green. You’re in the cock’s comb, almost at the top of mainland Norway and well into the Arctic Circle, to find Nusfjord: a beautiful nook in the world’s second-longest coastline (Norway is still some 100,000 kilometres behind the weathersome cliffs of Canada). This neck of the Nordic woods and its latitudinal brethren are hot because they’re cool: as southern Europe’s sizzle has turned to crackle, eyes are looking northward for a calmer balm and some old-fashioned weather. So, if you’re here and you don’t speak much Norwegian, you’ll likely have come far. Phew, you have arrived.


Nusfjord was a fabled fishing village for a thousand years, a haven on a wild coastline where boats could be safely moored and cabins built to house the hundreds of fishermen who’d rowed for days and weeks on high seas to reach this specific spot, staying for months to catch, dry, store and sell their cod. Renata Johansen, born and raised in the village, puts it better. “Every January to March the skrei has been coming down from the northern sea with his girlfriend to find the marriage bed with the perfect temperature for making babies,” she says. “What was irresistible for the fish was irresistible for the fishermen, too.”

Johansen is the front-of-house manager for what Nusfjord is now, which is still what you want on reaching a haven but in a very different way: a beautiful resort in which the rooms are calm, luxurious revamps of those old cabins and the administrative office for the weighing and selling of fish is now the very fine Restaurant Karoline. The rest of the village offers a swoon-inducing on-site bakery, the landhandleriet shop and café for sandwiches, coffee and local crafts, an art gallery patronised by Norway’s Queen Sonja, a museum, a pub-and-pizza joint and a sauna that’s best enjoyed after a jump in the bloody freezing sea. It’ll toughen you up but not to the point that you’ll be like Johansen or one of her family. “Growing up here, the only child labour that was allowed in Norway is cutting the tongue out of the cod’s head. I bought myself a nice boat and a big motor with the money but we don’t offer it as an activity here for guests nowadays,” she says with a chuckle.

We’re soon out on the water – high above the cod – with Fred Ravneberg, Nusfjord’s general manager, his big laugh, a couple more members of his team and Caroline Krefting, whose family own Nusfjord. “In fact most of what you can see – even the mountain,” she says, with a smile that’s both proud and shy of any boastfulness. We’re out on the RIB boat for a tour that’ll take in the incredible sea eagles that nest and hunt around the bay and the Nusfjord estate’s small, private island with its very own small, private house, whose nickname seems to have stuck on the resort’s official literature: The Isolated Fisherman. But first, why get there slowly when you can rip around on that twin-engine RIB? A boat in the shape of a waterski and which appears to have been designed – and certainly today piloted – with the same thrills and spills in mind. It’s fast as hell and loves to get airborne off the waves. Lifejackets are hugged as the cold spray rains down. Greater still is the pure animal buzz of the big birds; the pair of sea eagles riding high on the updrafts above us, before swooping down on the waves to snatch a talon-full of what might well have been the leftovers of my fish. On we bounce and fly and bounce. The eagles regard us with a patient eye, then turn on their tail feathers for home and their young.





“We started this adventure eight years ago and now I feel both very grateful and very proud,” says Krefting. She is smiling into the sun’s dazzle as it dances off the sea, through the island pines and sitting room windows of the cosy cottage that, in June at least, does little justice to the name of The Isolated Fisherman. “Being here gives me a new perspective on life every time,” says Krefting. “In January we were skiing up on the mountain with wild views at 1,000 metres; where else can you see the sea from a mountaintop and almost ski down to it? And now we’re here right next to that sea and it’s another experience, to do with the season and the weather and the magic of this place.”

After the Krefting family bought Nusfjord, Caroline and her mother-in-law have ensured the accommodation and resort-wide fixtures and fittings have gone from a cheap-ish hotel-standard approach that made nothing of the cabins’ original layouts to a high-quality, low-volume, classily reserved Nordic style – all quiet luxury, cool and calm. Nusfjord, despite not having a road until the 1950s (it’s the sort of perfectly preserved picture of a place that you might stamp on a Norwegian biscuit-tin), had been inundated with camera-wielding coach-trips until the rethink and refurb. Now the village is still open for people to have a look and a coffee and poke about but some subtle yet firm pressure has helped bid the coaches adjø. There seems to be an honesty and a tenderness to the relationship between Krefting and, for example, Nusfjord-born Johansen’s family. Krefting talks of the “great warmth, great stories, great laughs” that go with the territory here and that she feels fortunate to have been involved with. “We also just had this goal which is about authentic experiences,” she says, “and that you don’t need to choose between comfort and nature – I hope we’ve woven both together here.”




The weaving has indeed wrought a happy tapestry. Nusfjord’s village-first, hotel-later atmosphere is achieved through the open-air museum style of the resort but also by the charming staff, almost all of whom live here. Of course Nusfjord’s Nordic spa boasts a suite of treatments but maybe it expects you to have also broken a sweat outside of its sauna. Anyone for an adventure?
“Haha! You’re in!” says Ravneberg, big laugh on full beam, on our fishing trip aboard Elltor, the resort’s handsome boat. “Now wind him in, nice and smooth.” Out of the mill-pond-still of Nusfjord’s bay, we’re reeling again on the swells of the Norwegian Sea. A light breakfast seemed a wise choice: eyes on the horizon, breathe through your nose and focus on being flattered as a half-decent fisherman by a man who knows more than you about the ways of cod, coalfish, hake and halibut – and not because they were presented on a bed of samphire under Restaurant Karoline’s candlelight last night. There’s some angling banter about how I must have got lucky last night to be so lucky with the rod this morning, which we’ll let fly away on the Arctic breeze. Suffice to say, a respectful haul was had. Gutted, cleaned and into the ice they go, in order to be delivered to a beaming chef on dry land later. Fish soup, sir, caught by yourself? Ooh, ja vennligst.



The nature is really the thing. For all the laid-on activities, as lively or contemplative as they might be, the best thing photographer Ivar and I did was walk to the summit of the huge hill that looks over the village. It’s a decent hike, complete with knee-deep June snow in parts. The reward is the view at the top, the beer at the bottom and the kinship of walking together. Dinner at Restaurant Karoline – mostly fished, reared or grown nearby – was manna, a rum nightcap was nectar and the cabin and the bed – just right, just perfect – were heaven. That and the journey because you may well have come a long way but phew: you have arrived. nusfjordarcticresort.com
What to pack
You’ll want to indulge in all things Nusfjord on your trip, and that means dressing for the Nordic summer during the year’s middle months and being ready for almost anything for the rest of the year. The summer in Nusfjord typically means 10C to 15C but it can easily get up to 20C or dip into single figures when the wind has an edge. Take a bathing costume for the hot tub and a dip in the Arctic Sea (the sauna at Nusfjord is also swimmers-on); waterproof hiking boots; and a good rain jacket and hiking trousers (not the swishy kind, for the sake of Odin’s beard). And pack an eye mask: 24-hour sunlight can be as maddening as it is intriguing.
What to see
The Lofoten archipelago is a place of jaw-dropping beauty. Leknes, where we landed, would be a good spot to hire a car or you may wish to start further east into Norway to drive the length of the snaking peninsula, to end at the western tip and the succinctly-named Å. Along the route you’ll see many stunning beaches where you might do a double-take at the sight of plucky surfers in inch-thick wetsuits. Unstad beach is a popular spot to watch before getting a lesson courtesy of the Lofoten Surfsenter, where “Jack Frost”, the Lebowski-like local guru and proprietor, will regale you with tales of surfing among the ice floes in winter.
Three books to get you in the mood
‘A Woman in the Polar Night’ by Christiane Ritter
The 1930s memoir of an Austrian woman who left urban comforts behind to live with her explorer husband for a year in a shack in Arctic Spitsbergen. This classic of travel-writing witnesses months of near madness before her conversion to the Arctic’s lunar beauty.
‘The Ice Palace’ by Tarjei Vesaas
A strange and allegorical coming-of-age tale about two girls on the brink of becoming young women in postwar rural Norway. Are Siss and Unn separate girls or halves of the same character? A sharp shock of powerful storytelling – the equivalent of a psychological ice-bath.
‘Kon Tiki Man’ by Thor Heyerdahl
This is about the late, great Norwegian explorer and ethnographer rather than about his home country but there is much of the Nordic temperament in Heyerdahl’s unfussy prose. It describes an 8,000km cross-Pacific odyssey that he undertook on a hand-built raft in 1947.
Richard England’s architectural world in Malta
The prolific octogenarian writes poetry, draws cityscapes and is currently penning a book based on biblical characters. Over his six-decade career, he has created a captivating body of colourful, dreamy, postmodern delights. Along the way, England has reimagined religious spaces, challenged the island’s prevailing styles and breathed life into cities the world over. Monocle heads to Malta to meet the maestro and find out more about his career, ideas and inspiration
“Some of my favourite music is by Eleni Karaindrou,” says Richard England, hitting play on an album by the Greek composer. The octogenarian architect is welcoming monocle into his home in St Julian’s, a small enclave on the east coast of Malta. “My grandmother introduced me to the music of Enrico Caruso as a child and it stuck. I now have a collection of 12,000 records. My family says that I suffer from a condition called ‘tenoritis’.”
England is one of Malta’s most influential designers. His accolades include 11 International Academy of Architecture (iaa) Awards and the iaa Grand Prix; he was also made a Maltese Officer of the Order of Merit for his work. While we’re here to talk architecture, it’s clear that this visit will be about more than just bricks and mortar. Glasses of whisky are poured and a spread of hobz biz-zejt (a Maltese entrée of crusty bread topped with tomatoes and olive oil) is laid out, as England describes the creative endeavours that he is currently pursuing. “If I rest, I rust,” he says.
There’s his daily ritual of drawing cityscapes and landscapes (“Despite computers, the bridge between mind and paper is still best crossed by the hand”), and work to be done on a book featuring the biblical figures of Cain and Judas (“I wrote one on Lazarus, who must be the most frustrating guy in the Bible – he spends four days in the afterlife, then comes back and tells us nothing”). There are poems too and, of course, architecture – he has just completed a striking meditation garden and chapel in the Maltese town of Santa Venera for Christian organisation Dar il-Hanin Samaritan. There are similarities across his creative practices. “Both writing a poem and making architecture are about building,” he says. “With poetry, it’s using sound and silence, and with architecture, it’s using solid and void. They have the same aim: to uplift the spirit.”


Born in Sliema to an architect father, England graduated from the University of Malta’s architecture school in 1960, before continuing his studies at the Politecnico di Milano. While there, he worked as a student architect in the studio of mid-century master Gio Ponti. “I was very lucky because with Ponti, you would be at the drawing board and he would come and spend 45 minutes with you, discussing whether a detail should be this way or that,” says England. Other famous architects would also come through the studio door: Scarpa, Nervi, Neutra, Gardella, Albini.
England returned to Malta in 1962 with a glowing letter of recommendation from Ponti. It was then that his father, Edwin England Sant Fournier, who was one of Malta’s best-known designers at the time, gave his son a first commission: a new church in the hamlet of Manikata. “At the age of 23, I started designing it,” says England of the project, which ultimately took 12 years to complete. “At first, the villagers didn’t like the design because they wanted a dome that was bigger than the neighbouring village’s.” They soon came around to England’s vision, which was inspired by Malta’s megalithic temples and girna, the circular stonewalled storage structures found in the island’s agricultural fields.

Finished in earthy tones and furnished with a bespoke altar, lectern and chairs, the parish church was hailed as a masterpiece of modern regionalism upon its completion in 1974. “The archbishop didn’t like it, especially the wall made from rubble and field stones behind the altar,” says England, laughing. “I told him that I would plaster it but didn’t, hoping that, at 88 years old, he would forget. When he visited the church a few weeks later, he quietly grabbed my arm and said, ‘I see that it’s difficult finding a plasterer in Malta.’”
The church – and its break from the island’s baroque religious architecture – put England on the map but he was keen to evolve his practice. “My first period of architecture was about regionalism, which was of its time but also of its place. I was practising what William Blake said: you become what you behold. It was almost instinctual but such an approach needed an intellectual overlay.” This came in the form of the creatives who arrived in Malta in the 1960s, with whom England collaborated. There was architect Basil Spence of new Coventry Cathedral fame and abstract painter Victor Pasmore, along with zoologist and surrealist Desmond Morris.

In addition, the architect began winning overseas commissions and requests. He was invited by Baghdad’s city architect, Rifat Chadirji, alongside others such as Robert Venturi and Ricardo Bofill, to help develop a new vision for the city in the early 1980s. There were character-building experiences associated with the project, which matched England’s rise to prominence. Flights were routinely rerouted to Oman, which would result in a 21-hour bus ride to the Iraqi capital, crammed in the vehicle with chickens and goats. On one occasion, England was dragged from a taxi when security services spotted him taking a snap of the Baghdad Conference Centre. Held at gunpoint, he was interrogated and left in a jail cell overnight before earning his release by exposing the film and thereby destroying the photos. There were similar run-ins in Saudi Arabia and Kazakhstan (in the latter’s capital, Astana, an aide to the mayor, reminded England to be careful when disagreeing with the city’s leader, since he had been an Olympic wrestling medallist).
Such experiences helped England to develop an appreciation for the character of a place. It’s an ethos embedded in the architect’s now-signature style – one that has become a benchmark for Maltese architecture. “Vitruvius said that architecture is about firmness, commodity and delight – or venustas in Latin,” says England. “Firmness and commodity relate to construction but while many people translate venustas to mean ‘beauty’ or ‘delight’, for me, it refers to atmosphere. It is felt by all senses – oral, aromatic, somatic and possibly also gustatory.”







By the 1980s, England was creating unique atmospheres using surreal compositions of volumes and planar surfaces made from exposed Maltese stone and reinforced concrete. These also included pastel-coloured surfaces, punctuated by arched, rectangular and square openings.
Examples of the style, which are still standing, include private gardens and residences such as 1982’s Garden for Myriam (dedicated to his wife) and Villa G in Siggiewi. His public buildings include the mirage-like Aquasun Lido hotel pool built in 1983 and the Spazju Kreattiv, a cultural centre that opened at the turn of the millennium. Places of worship feature prominently in his portfolio too, including the Church of St Francis of Assisi in Bugibba and several projects for Dar il-Hanin Samaritan.



When England is quizzed on his legacy, he is carefully optimistic. “It’s not for me to judge but, hopefully, future generations will look at projects such as these as something that beautifies the island, that moves the spirit and elevates the soul.”

Judging by the numerous homeowners who opened the doors of their residences and the priests who ushered monocle in through their parish entrances at England’s request, it seems that this appreciation is already firmly established on the island. Even though many England-designed buildings have been knocked down or altered beyond recognition, there are thankfully those that are still standing, despite being something of a labour of love to maintain. “My architectural philosophy might well be defined in the words of Tennessee Williams – ‘I don’t want reality, I want magic,’” says England, reflecting on his portfolio. “Another of my favourite quotations is, ‘Those who dance are always thought insane by those who don’t hear the music.’”
Rest assured that, should you visit and experience some of England’s works, you’ll feel the magic and hear these metaphorical melodies. And if you’re lucky enough to visit them with England himself, he might even play you one of his favourite tenors too.

Richard England’s selected Maltese portfolio
Parish Church of St Joseph
Manikata, 1974
A modern masterpiece, inspired by Malta’s mix of ancient and agricultural landscape.
Garden for Myriam
St Julian’s, 1982
Abstract forms, reminiscent of surreal paintings by Giorgio de Chirico, define this garden.
Aquasun Lido
Paceville, 1983
Freestanding walls and follies surround this hotel pool, creating a mirage-like effect.
Church of St Francis of Assisi
Bugibba, 1993
A large geometric form rises out of the earth towards the heavens.
Villa G
Siggiewi, 1994
A private commission.“We changed the position of two doors and then built the house.”
Spazju Kreattiv
Valletta, 2000
England transformed the Knights’ Period property into a spectacular cultural venue.
Dar il-Hanin Samaritan
Santa Venera, 2014-present
A series of projects has been completed for this religious organisation, including gardens and chapels with sculptural elements that play with light and shadow. New additions include a landscape completed with glass artworks by the architect’s son, Marc England.
Interview: Vittorio Angelone on what makes something funny, and permission to laugh
After moving to London from Belfast to train as a classical musician, Vittorio Angelone made the less-than-obvious switch to stand-up. The Italian-Irish comedian has since performed all over Europe and enjoyed sell-out runs at festivals including the Edinburgh Fringe. He’s currently on tour with a new show that pushes boundaries – and buttons. “I sit in a funny place wherein old people call me a woke snowflake and on Tiktok young people call me right-wing,” he tells Monocle.
Angelone is at the coalface of comedy that pushes boundaries; it’s a challenging position to be in at the moment, as puritans are policing what we say and even the most mundane celebrity can find themselves publicly humiliated for a mistimed joke. Here, he explains his philosophy behind making comments on society through comedy. If you don’t get it, maybe that’s your problem.

Have we got too precious about what we can and can’t laugh about?
Some think that this is the case but I don’t agree. It’s good that we’re a bit precious. Comedy doesn’t work unless there’s a sense of preciousness because all jokes are a simple formula: tension and release. For something to be funny, you need people to think, “Are we comfortable talking about this?” As with any other art form, there needs to be a little discomfort for the pay-off to be worth it. If nobody was ever tense or concerned about any topic, nothing would be funny.
But a bigger concern, more than individuals being precious or getting upset, is that people might be laughing at a joke for the wrong reason. An audience, for instance, might be laughing because they agree with the thing that you’re trying to poke fun at. When you’re making fun of bigoted ideas or racist ideas by highlighting them in a certain way, some people might laugh thinking, “Finally, somebody said it.” That means that you have to be strict with yourself and know that not all laughs are the ones that you’re going for.
Does a comedian have a responsibility to make sure that a joke is received in the right way?
This is one of the big frustrations that I have with some big-name Netflix comedians. These comics – and people do it beyond comedy too – say trigger words that make certain audience members think, “Yeah, they’re poking the wasps’ nest.” But they’re not actually saying anything transgressive. They’re just saying the words “immigrant”, “black” or “gay” but none of it means anything because they’re pandering to this false idea of transgression. It frustrates me when comedians say, “It’s just a joke,” or “I’m not making that joke,” when they use these words. You know what sort of laugh you’re getting.
Take Michael McIntyre. There’s a bit in one of his Netflix stand-up comedy specials where he talks about the Northern Irish accent, which I don’t find funny. I grew up in Belfast. He impersonates a Northern Irish person, putting on an accent and going cross-eyed, painting all Northern Irish people as stupid.
Context matters. If someone like Anthony Jeselnik, a US comic who has branded himself as offensive, made that same joke, it would be funny. That’s because the whole point of Jeselnik’s jokes, the reason why people go to his shows, is that he says things that are awful, wrong, offensive and bad. In contrast, McIntyre’s shtick is his presentation of things in a way that suggests that what he’s joking about is something that we all agree on – and that’s why his Northern Irish joke landed so horribly with me. He wasn’t getting a laugh because he was saying something that’s funny for its offensiveness. Rather, he’s getting it because lots of people in the audience think that Northern Irish people are stupid and an accurate representation of them is to be cross-eyed and make noises.
So are there topics that we can’t joke about?
I don’t think there’s anything that I’m allowed to talk about that other people aren’t. That’s not a very interesting way to make art. A broader cultural conversation, with more voices, is always a better one. I’ve seen comedians make jokes about Northern Irish people and be very funny. I’ve seen comedians make jokes about Northern Irish people and be very offensive. It depends on what angle you’re coming from – and this applies to making jokes more broadly, not just stand-up. You need to understand where your perspective comes from and how that comes across to people.
Often, when I make jokes about contentious issues or about groups of people, I’m the butt of the joke and it’s my misunderstanding, my getting it wrong, that is the point of humour. My job is to joke about topics in a way that isn’t mean, nasty or bullying. Whether you’re a comedian or not, a good rule is to ask yourself: would you tell the joke if the people it was about were in the room? If that stops you from making the joke, you shouldn’t go ahead.
What’s the best way to deal with a joke not landing?
It’s important to remember that you can’t determine whether a joke is funny based on one person. I have jokes about broad lgbtq issues and I have had hundreds, if not thousands, of queer audience members laugh hard at them. Still, I’ve had friends in the queer community say that they don’t like the jokes. That’s to be expected of any group of people. No social or cultural group is a monolith. Just because one queer person dislikes my joke, it doesn’t mean that they speak on behalf of the whole community, in the same way that if one person from that community does like it, you can’t assume that making the joke is OK – because they might both be idiots.
Why tell jokes that might push a crowd’s buttons?
People are at their funniest when an audience is taken to a place in their mind where they might be uncomfortable or nervous. It’s exciting when they think, “I’m not sure how I feel about this topic,” before having a big laugh about it. That’s what I’m trying to do. I try to take audiences to places where they might feel discomfort before making them feel good at the end, so that they can maybe think about those things with less trepidation in the future. It means that, hopefully, they’re more comfortable the next time they think about race or gender or sexuality or any number of things where they were once uncomfortable. Through comedy, I can show them that it doesn’t have to be scary and that you can get out the other side without getting it all wrong. But it’s a very hard thing to do and, as long as you’re not deliberately trying to upset someone, you need to have permission to get it wrong.
What role does an audience play when it comes to finding what’s funny?
The audience needs to have permission to get it wrong too. What I love about stand-up comedy is that it’s one of the only art forms where the audience takes the same risk as the performer. For example, if I say a joke that might be deemed controversial, maybe about something that most people wouldn’t admit to thinking or wouldn’t admit to experiencing or wouldn’t admit to being concerned about, then I am opening myself up to embarrassment. If nobody laughs, then I feel like an idiot and I’m ostracised in the room but if everybody laughs, then my making that joke has made the whole room go, “Oh, thank God, someone else feels like that. I was worried that it was just me.”
However, if only one person in the audience laughs, which is the risk that every audience member is taking when they laugh, there are two embarrassed people in the room, me and that person. It’s risky because by laughing you’re saying, “Yes, I agree with what you said,” which means that the person laughing is taking the same risk as the person telling the joke – and that’s what makes telling a joke so exciting and why we need things to be precious about. Without this tension and release, none of it would be very fun.
The Agenda: Design
Retail design: Mexico City
Seeing the light

Italian optical retailer Retrosuperfuture is bringing its collection of elegant eyewear to Latin America with the opening of its first flagship shop in Mexico City. For this new retail space in the leafy Condesa neighbourhood, Dutch design studio Cloud has created a stainless steel-clad space. “We took inspiration from the architecture of a bank vault,” says Cloud’s Paul Cournet. “The metal-cladded walls are organised for all types of storage and display, with the centre of the space left as a void.”
It’s a sleek way for the brand’s customers to peruse its collection with a full-length mirror offering buyers a chance to reflect on potential purchases while also bouncing light through the space. The atmosphere within is enhanced by a giant lightbox on the ceiling, which reflects the ambience of a sunset to create a warming retail environment. It’s a combination of features that not only makes a visit here an enjoyable shopping experience but provides Retrosuperfuture with an inviting space in which to build a community. “The central void can be turned into a dance floor, a bar or a stage for performances,” says Cournet. “It’s a new place to gather for the city and for its social experiments, all under the ethereal ceiling.”

On Design
Nic Monisse on: The need to embellish
Do we need urban planners? This question was recently posed to me by a Geneva-based architect who had been tapped to help master-plan the last pocket of undeveloped land within the city’s limits. Explaining why he was involved in the project, he said that the authorities were looking to architects, rather than planners, to mastermind the scheme because the latter typically only operate on one scale. City hall felt that planners too often thought about the big picture, seeing cities as a series of “zones” and “movement corridors”, detached from the people inhabiting and using them.
I tend to agree. A problem that I frequently encountered when I was working as a landscape architect was planners who were more focused on numbers showing how people flowed and moved across a city, rather than what the experience was like on the street. The planning departments that I worked with felt that it was enough to have a diagram that highlighted where a bike lane was and how many people were using it, rather than investigating whether people might want to ride along such a path – or if they were just doing so out of necessity. Interrogating this quality is essential for delivering friendly, liveable cities.
That’s not to say that architects aren’t guilty of focusing solely on their plot (there are plenty who create insular buildings that don’t speak to the surrounding context) but rather that planning, while essential to city making, often misses a trick when those who practice it don’t think holistically and at a range of scales.
Herein lies a solution – doing away with the “specialist”. A good planner, it seems, shouldn’t only be a single-minded, specialised one but a creative with an understanding of architecture, furniture design and sociology. In short, to deliver well-rounded spaces, we need fewer Robert Moses types (the big-picture planner responsible for bulldozing large swaths of Manhattan in the 1960s in the name of efficiency) and more total designers, such as mid-century master Ernesto Rogers, who once declared that he wanted to design everything from “a spoon to a city”.
Taking such an approach should create cities and neighbourhoods that work on multiple levels, with consideration given to everything from the placement of furniture to the positioning of buildings. Geneva – should the architects fully execute their vision – might soon be the perfect example.
Urbanism: Slovakia
New tricks

When architect Matúš Vallo was elected as mayor of Bratislava in 2018, he had a “blueprint” for the city that outlined which landmarks needed a revamp. On the list was the Most snp Bridge – or rather, its cavernous underbelly. A plan was hatched to turn the area crossing the Danube into an Olympic-quality skatepark and recreation area, with Czechia-based u/u Studio tasked with the pep up.
“Vallo told us that the city was missing spots for outdoor exercise,” says Martin Hrouda, an architect who runs u/u Studio alongside Jirí Kotal. “The area under the bridge was a brownfield site but it had so many advantages.” However, the protected status of the bridge posed problems to the flow that a skatepark requires. “It was difficult but we incorporated the bridge’s pillars in our design,” says Kotal.
As well as attracting skaters, the development has brightened up what was once a grey zone of neglect. It also underlines the fact that Vallo, now into his second tenure, might just be onto something with his blueprint.

Urbanism: UK
Comfort zone

The busy junction at the heart of London’s Elephant & Castle neighbourhood is the epitome of a car-centric concrete mess. But adjacent to this intersection, the newly revitalised Elephant Park, completed to the design of international firm Gillespies, is providing a much-needed moment of calm.
When Gillespies started work on the project 10 years ago, the green space was surrounded by building sites, says Giacomo Guzzon, the practice’s head of planting. “At night, a gate would be locked to stop people from entering.” Now, when monocle visits on a warm autumn evening, there’s no sign of a gate, with the designers’ ambition to add permeability to the area’s urban fabric fulfilled. “We wanted to allow people to easily walk across the park, to access the shops and restaurants at the bottoms of the tower blocks that front onto it.”

Highlights of the green space include verdant planting that abuts the adjacent cafés and a playground and water-play area that’s a hit with local children. The effect, despite the popularity of both, is instantly calming. “In the evenings, when the kids are gone, it’s soothing to hear the sounds of the water,” says Guzzon. Office workers can often be spotted dipping their bare feet into the water.
This flow of people of all ages and walks of life is a big part of the site’s success, Guzzon explains that this is thanks to the abundance of opportunities for interaction, whether at the café or on the playground. “It’s key to creating lively cities.”
Design: UK
Just the ticket

Too often, when a piece of furniture is made from recycled materials, it can lack the polish associated with virgin finishes. UK designer John Tree’s Billet Chair is a pioneering chair made from 100 per cent recycled post-consumer aluminium. Using material provided by Oslo-based Norsk Hydro, the chair is held together by a clip hidden on the back; its extruded-aluminium profiles are devoid of fixings or adhesives. Its sensitive use of materials and the simplicity of its construction ensure that the chair can be fully recycled again at the end of its life.
johntree.net
Unique aircraft
In the September print edition of monocle magazine, we published an interview with Warja Borges about her brand Unique Aircraft, which, due to a regrettable editorial oversight, contained misquotations of Ms Borges and incorrect information – namely the brand name and relevant project costs. This is the corrected interview.
Warja Borges holds an engineer’s degree in interior architecture. She worked at German studio Reiner Heim Aircraft Interior Design. In 2010 she founded Unique Aircraft. Working with major companies, Borges has designed all kinds of aircraft from smaller business jets to large Boeing/Airbus-type planes for private clients, governments and heads of state.
What is the typical budget range for the aircraft you work on?
Working on a business jet, clients’ requests are mostly refurbishments. Costs range from €500,000 to €2m, including the outfitting. My core business is one-of-a-kind interiors for large aircraft, planning the interior configuration from scratch. The range is huge, depending on the complexity of the interior, technical requirements and materials used; starting at about €30m for narrow body, up to €200m for a wide-body aircraft. The main drivers for the budget are the technology and manpower.
What are the usual (and unusual) requests from clients?
A usual request for a Boeing or Airbus-type aircraft would be a main lounge area with a combination of seating and dining, ensuite master bedroom, galley and crew area, guest seating or bedroom and an additional lavatory. Sometimes we do get the request to implement some beloved items or features.
What is most important when designing an aircraft’s interior?
The basic is to know the certification regulations and limitations and engineering constraints. The focus is on the passengers, their comfort and needs. With this in mind, my approach is holistic, stimulating senses to create an overall and unique flying experience.
unique-aircraft.com
The Agenda: Affairs
The Foreign Desk
Andrew Mueller on: Bibi’s lost opportunity
On 18 October last year, 11 days after Hamas killed more than 1,200 people in Israel, Joe Biden spoke in Tel Aviv and urged Israel to learn from US mistakes after 11 September. “Shock, pain, rage,” he said. “An all-consuming rage. I understand and many Americans understand. But I caution this: while you feel that rage, don’t be consumed by it. After 9/11, we were enraged in the United States. And while we sought justice and got justice, we also made mistakes.”
The first anniversary of 7 October will pass while this issue of monocle is on newsstands. In that time, Israel – specifically Benjamin Netanyahu – has paid little heed to Biden’s counsel. But what if he had? In the immediate aftermath of the massacres, Israel had the world’s sympathy. It also had an opportunity. A full-scale assault on Gaza was perhaps the likeliest option but it wasn’t the only one. Israel would have been entitled to reinforce its border with Gaza. It might reasonably have declared it would hunt down those responsible and deliver them to one kind of judgement or another. And there Israel could have paused.
The media would have had nothing to report but the funerals of Israel’s dead, the sorrow of their families and the plight of the hostages taken by Hamas. It would have bought time for the hostages and placed upon Hamas all the responsibility for their wellbeing. The group might have indulged in the kind of gloating that would have underscored their malevolence. Israel could have asked Hamas’s allies which side they wanted to be seen to be on. The answer might well have strengthened Israel’s recent diplomatic meshing with Arab nations, and further isolated Hamas as insane and intransigent.
Netanyahu has repeatedly floated the line that Israel is fighting on behalf of the democratic ideal against a modern fascism – and on four fronts, if one also counts Hezbollah in Lebanon, the Houthis of Yemen and their patron Iran. He has also complained that Israel, when it defends itself, is held to different standards than other countries. But democracies should be held to different standards, not least by themselves.
Andrew Mueller hosts ‘The Foreign Desk’ on Monocle Radio.
Diplomatic spat
The party’s over
Who vs who:
Brazil vs Nicaragua
What it’s about:
The failure of Brazil’s ambassador to Nicaragua to attend a party. Brasília’s man in Managua, Breno de Souza da Costa, had been invited to a wingding to celebrate the 45th anniversary of Nicaragua’s Sandinista revolution, which toppled ghastly dictator Anastasio Somoza and brought to power Daniel Ortega, currently in his second lengthy stint as Nicaragua’s president and not improving with age. Ambassador da Costa was instructed not to attend by Brazil’s president, Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva (pictured). Ortega then instructed da Costa to pack his bags and, by way of return, Brazil has slung out Nicaragua’s ambassador, Fulvia Patricia Castro Matu.

What it’s really about:
Lula and Ortega are almost exact contemporaries, born two weeks apart in 1945, and would once have been regarded as natural allies: rumbustious leftists who had both taken bold stands against miserable military juntas. Lula still gets on pretty well with other comrades of their generation, especially former Bolivian president Evo Morales and outgoing Mexican president Andrés Manuel López Obrador. But while Lula has – mostly – grown more pragmatic with age, Ortega has made the tediously familiar journey from red-bereted rebel to authoritarian crank. Lula has been especially vexed by Ortega’s harassment of Catholic clergy.
Likely resolution:
It might blow over. There are suggestions that Lula took a free swing at Ortega to deflect criticism that he’d been soft on Venezuelan president Nicolas Maduro – though Lula didn’t acknowledge Maduro’s claims to have won Venezuela’s recent election, he didn’t go as far as some Latin American nations and formally recognise the country’s opposition. Ridiculous and sinister as Ortega is, he is also useful to other Latin American leaders looking to define what they are not.
Water: Ethiopia
Dry outlook
November heralds the onset of the Nile Basin’s dry season but Egyptians and Sudanese are sweating about the months ahead. Operators at the recently completed Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam filled its reservoir for the fifth time over the summer, prompting fears that hundreds of millions of people downstream will soon find themselves short of water. Decade-long talks between Cairo and Addis Ababa to negotiate a binding agreement on dam operations broke down in March and show no signs of resuming, while Khartoum is too mired in civil war to participate meaningfully.

Africa’s largest hydroelectric dam is a source of national pride for Ethiopia, itself emerging from internal conflict and looking to flex its muscles as a regional power player. But Addis’s insistence on acting unilaterally while its downstream neighbours are vulnerable has soured relations. Ethiopia made the surprise announcement to construct the dam in April 2011. Cairo’s latter-day protestations that the project is “illegal” haven’t convinced it to change course.
“Ethiopia has been opaque, Egypt has been dogmatic and Sudan has been caught in the middle,” says Middle East analyst Natasha Hall of the Center for Strategic and International Studies. “Water causes a great deal of anxiety and panic. If there isn’t some kind of trusting relationship between the riparian neighbours, it could simply amount to conflict.” And conflict is something the war-ravaged and drought-ridden region could ill afford.
Immigration: The Netherlands
Too much Dutch?
If you thought the Oranje Legioen at recent international sports events looked overwhelming, brace yourself. In August, the Netherlands welcomed its 18 millionth inhabitant, an event that was represented live on its statistics bureau’s website by a ticking over digital clock. While previous population milestones have been greeted with national jubilation (the song “15 Miljoen Mensen” by Fluitsma & Van Tijn went to number one in the Dutch charts in 1996), the latest met with a more negative response. In fact, Geert Wilders – leader of the far-right Freedom Party, which won the most votes in last year’s general election – said that “the Netherlands is full”.

Already Europe’s most densely populated country (excluding Monaco, Vatican City and Malta), the Netherlands is more like a giant city made up of uninterrupted urban sprawl. Its growing population makes it an outlier on the continent, where many nations are struggling with the consequences of depopulation. Its economic success – it is now the EU’s fifth-largest economy – marks it out as unusual too. Immigration has fuelled recent growth but it has also exacerbated a severe housing crisis. More people may mean more workers but it also means more consumers, creating a complex and paradoxical cycle of growth and labour shortages.
Projections suggest the Dutch population could hit 23 million by 2050 – equivalent to squeezing another 19 million people into the UK. Solutions for dealing with this include building vertically and reclaiming more land from the sea, fixes that have worked in other densely populated places, such as Singapore. At the density of the Asian city state, the Dutch could house some 273 million people. Imagine that at a football match.
In The Basket
Sea Eire

In the basket: One multirole naval vessel
Who’s buying: Republic of Ireland
Who’s selling: tbc
Price: €300 million
Delivery date: tbc
The confirmation that Ireland’s modest Naval Service will purchase a multirole vessel is a startling statement of intent by the country’s department of defence. It’s not just that such a ship, able to launch helicopters and deploy troops by sea and air, would be Ireland’s biggest vessel – it might effectively be Ireland’s only vessel. Lately Dublin’s meagre fleet has been substantially marooned by technical issues and personnel shortages. Of its four Samuel Beckett-class patrol ships, only one of them is on duty most of the time; two second-hand patrol ships bought from New Zealand are not yet operational. It would also represent an all-too-rare suggestion of seriousness from Ireland where maritime security is concerned. The country, responsible for 16 percent of the EU’s territorial waters, refuses to join Nato and spends barely 0.2 per cent of its gdp on defence.
Calendar: Global
Diplomatic bag
As memories of the northern hemisphere summer begin to recede from diplomats’ minds, here are a few things that will sharpen them again ahead of a busy end to the year.
1 October
Secretary-General Rutte
Brussels, Belgium
Mark Rutte assumes the Nato hotseat at a critical time for the world’s largest military alliance. With competing blocs forming elsewhere and the potential November election of Donald Trump – who has previously threatened to withdraw the US from the alliance – Rutte will have to deploy all of the political nous that saw him become the Netherlands’ longest-serving prime minister.
6—11 October
44th Asean Summit
Vientiane, Laos
The Association of Southeast Asian Nations, a union of 10 neighbouring states, is becoming increasingly significant as both a collection of rising economic powers and a bulwark against Chinese meddling in the Indo‑Pacific. This year’s summit, to be held in the capital city of one of Asean’s poorest nations, will focus on China as well as Myanmar, a recalcitrant member state currently suffering from a number of humanitarian and political crises.
22—24 October
16th Brics Summit
Kazan, Russia
Over the past year, much has been made by western commentators of the Brics’ supposed malevolent, or at least disruptive, geopolitical intentions. Despite the controversial setting of Russia for this year’s summit, the organisation will be welcoming four new member states in the shape of Egypt, Ethiopia, Iran and the uae. This will swell the ranks of the Brics to nine (Brazil, Russia, India, China and South Africa are already members); meanwhile, up to 17 applicants (including Belarus, Pakistan and Thailand) remain on the waiting list.
