The topic for the next few interviews we are doing on this platform is about food and all the different creative expressions that pertain to the ritual of eating. For our first chat we talk to Richard Wood, Snøhetta’s Managing Director for Asia. The native Brit has lived in Hong Kong since 2012 and is perhaps ideally placed to share some knowledge around food and the ritualistic act of dining.
KM: Tell me, if you can, about your own upbringing outside of Manchester and how this ritual played out in your family and community? And also, how your experience with food growing up in the UK might contrast with the life you now live in Hong Kong, and how this ritual is experienced there?
RW: So funny, interesting to start with food. There’s often talk about the interplay between food and architecture, and while I don’t want to sound cliché, there’s something inherently communal in both realms. Both rely heavily on the careful selection of materials - be it ingredients or building elements - and both are deeply influenced by taste, in a literal or figurative sense. Reflecting on food in the UK, it can be interesting (and also not). Meals do often centre around practicality and tradition, as they do all over the world, with the ritual of eating rooted in family connections—whether it’s the classic Sunday roast, the tea breaks, or festive gatherings. It’s a celebration of hearty food shared together, even if the setting leans toward the casual side. I feel this has parallels in Hong Kong, where food rituals are vibrant and social, shaped by a more dynamic street food culture and deeply ingrained traditions like yum cha.
KM: To me personally, Snøhettas work has always made me feel very optimistic and given me a sense that 'everything is possible'. Perhaps no other project demonstrates that better to me than the underwater restaurant Snøhetta designed in the small coastal town of Lindesnes in the very south of Norway. This building kind of defies logic and what should be both safe and possible to make at all. How is this project viewed internally at Snøhetta? Although it's not a big building, compared to many of your other projects, did it set a standard for pushing the boundaries of what is possible to do?
RW: It’s always interesting how famous Under is as a project, and how it captures the imagination. For us, it holds a special place because we were trusted to handle nearly every aspect of the project, apart from the food itself! Collaborating closely with the owner and head chef was integral to shaping the vision. In many ways, Under feels like a natural progression in Snøhetta’s journey of pushing boundaries – both in ‘possibilities’ but as an integration of edge conditions. A path that began with projects like the Opera House in Oslo, or perhaps even earlier with the library in Alexandria.
It’s also standout for us because it exemplifies our “idea works” approach—a process we use to foster maximum collaboration among our team, clients, and collaborators. A key part of this method involves stepping back and identifying one strong conceptual springboard to anchor the project. For Under, that concept was ‘immersion’, and the design revolves entirely around immersing visitors in the natural world surrounding them. We’re taking combinations of pronouns and prepositions - under, on top, between the sea level - challenging perceptions of how individuals connect to their physical environment.
KM: Can you talk a bit about how architects approach restaurant design? What are the conventions and how perhaps can they be either followed or broken, for a specific effect?
The design of a restaurant often centers around the almost ritualistic act of dining. Like many aspects of design, it requires achieving a delicate balance—creating a space that seamlessly aligns with the practical vision of the food preparation team for seating and flow, while also integrating the theatrical elements of ambiance and experience. Collaboration is a cornerstone of our approach; we work hand-in-hand with the owners, chefs, and the team to develop a conceptual framework that highlights the essence of the dining experience. Storytelling plays an essential role in our process. For example, with the Under project before, it was crucial to weave the natural surroundings into the design.
We’ve been fortunate to work on several hospitality projects now in Asia. For example, we designed Whey, a space that fuses European and Asian cuisine within an eclectic setting. It draws inspiration from Scandinavian folk art, Peranakan architecture, and art, paying tribute to the Singaporean cultural landscape. By using materials like rattan, we sought connections in these traditions, highlighting their shared elements.
Currently, we are working on a project in Hong Kong that focuses on evoking emotion and memory. This space will function equally during the day and at night, which became a key consideration in its design. The concept involves leading diners on a journey of light - creating an immersive experience that enhances not just the dining but also the culinary process. The design aims to elevate the act of making and enjoying food into an experiential journey.
KM: Snøhetta coined the term ‘transpositioning’, a way of working where two people will switch their professional roles. Freed from the role of being the ‘knower,’ it is supposed to bring a level of empathy and a fresh perspective to a design problem.
RW: As before, ‘balance’ is key. In any team, the ideal dynamic might combine a deep wisdom about the site, context, and say brief with an equal dose of naivety, fresh perspectives, and daring. At Snøhetta, ‘Transpositioning’ allows us to achieve this balance by freeing ourselves from the boundaries and preconceived notions of our professions.
This approach encourages us to view projects with fresh eyes, it fosters daring and chance and sparks creativity. In this case, for hospitality projects, collaborating with chefs, artisans, or local communities often leads to unexpected insight – it might allow a chef to shape the spatial flow or architecture in ways that diverge from conventional practice. Its effectively about liberating unique opportunities to blend different approaches. A recent example involved a client who is a passionate weekend vegetable gardener, inspiring us within the rooftop terraces based on our conversations.
KM: Is there a project you’ve been involved with where you feel everything about your lived experience is represented? I'm talking about your education/experience in the UK, everything you have learned living and working in Asia (the idea of community, traditional local culture and rituals), and what you carry with you of all of Snøhettas fundamental principles. Is there a project where this all has come together in one beautiful architectural expression?
RW: This is a challenging question. It’s difficult, if not impossible, to say that one connects with any single project more than another—just as it’s impossible to claim that any project is about me. Ultimately, it’s always a team effort, and I genuinely believe it should be. Not just within our team, but across all collaborators involved. The stronger the connections everyone shares with the project, the better the outcome. In this sense, design and architecture are profoundly about people, interactions, passion, and connection.
Sometimes, the teams can be incredibly large, and it’s essential to do your utmost to help everyone feel connected to the goals established from the start. Naturally, the stories that emerge from such teamwork become deeply personal and stay with you long after. That said, it’s often the current project that feels the most immediate and meaningful—because it’s where the team you’re actively working with is, and it’s the one that occupies your imagination most vividly in the present moment.
