A Slice of Art and Design

Once the early studies confirm that a hotel is the right use for the site—and that the business case is viable—the next phase begins: building the design team. In a multi-storey hotel development, complexity is not an exception; it is the default. The building is not just a structure—it is a system of interconnected decisions. This requires a team that is not only experienced, but also highly specialised . At this stage, the owner must make an important strategic decision: how to structure this team in a way that balances control with efficiency. To understand this, it helps to recognise one simple truth—successful design is rarely about individual brilliance. It depends heavily on how well multiple disciplines coordinate with each other, and how quickly they respond as the design evolves. You may be surprised by the number of specialists involved in a hospitality project. Because of this, there is a clear benefit in placing the responsibility of coordination in the hands of a single l...

  Since I am writing this book for everyone interested in understanding how a hotel is developed, it is important to begin with a simple clarification: a significant amount of work is completed before an architect sketches the first line on paper. It is a common misconception that a project begins with the commissioning of a designer. In reality, by the time a consultant sits down to draft the first block plan or calculate a structural grid, the project has already lived an entire life in the boardroom. It has been tested, challenged, and refined through business planning and a relentless evaluation of numbers. You may have spent years mastering design or engineering, understanding every detail of a building’s physical form. Yet it is worth recognising that the project had a life before it reached you, and it will continue to evolve after your role is complete. Before any physical design begins, these early studies determine whether the project has a reason to exist at all. A hotel...

  Today is the first day of the hotel’s life. I am sitting in a quiet corner of the lobby, watching the first paying guest walk toward the reception desk. The polished floor reflects the chandelier above in perfect symmetry. The air carries that unmistakable scent of a newly opened property—fresh upholstery, polished timber, a trace of florals from the arrangement placed at the centre table. Around me, everything appears calm, almost effortless. But for those of us who have lived the last few years on this site, that calm is an illusion. For the guest, the experience must be seamless. They do not care that the main power was only connected a few weeks ago, or that the temporary generators—the loud, rattling heart of the construction site—left the premises only days before opening. They will never hear the echoes of drills, trolley wheels, and shouted instructions that filled these corridors not very long ago. Nor should they. A hotel, perhaps more than any other building typology, ...