Hong Kong OCTOBER 2026
Ed Ng and Terence Ngan met as students in Hong Kong and founded AB Concept there in 1999, one an interior designer, the other an architect. More than twenty-five years on, the studio works out of Kyoto, Taipei, London and Milan, with research labs in the last two developing its own chairs and hand-blown glass. The portfolio is largely hospitality, and largely at the top of it: Mei Ume at Four Seasons London at Ten Trinity Square, Bar Trigona and Yun House in Kuala Lumpur, Spago at The St. Regis on the Bund, the beach resort at Rosewood Sanya, and a redrawn Paper Moon Giardino in Milan for the restaurant’s fortieth year, with a W Hotel on the Algarve still to come. Closer to home there is The Chinese Library at Tai Kwun and the studio’s own rooms at Victoria Dockside, alongside objects such as the Ami rug collection for Tai Ping and porcelain for Noritake. Assouline published a book on the first two decades of it.
In this interview, Ed talks about the Mind, Hand, Heart, Soul framework the studio works to, why he believes a practice becomes recognisable through method rather than a repeated look, the real risk that international luxury hospitality is converging on a single language, what restraint costs in an age of photographed interiors, and where he thinks AI leaves material knowledge and the hand.




This is our compelling balancing act, anchored by our Mind, Hand, Heart, Soul framework. We do not export a signature “AB Concept look”; our identity is rooted in rigour and care, not a fixed aesthetic style.
Guided by Mind, we immerse ourselves in each location’s history, customs and living rhythms, researching openly rather than imposing pre-set solutions. Hand translates this context via local materials and artisan craft. Heart fosters true creative partnership with on-the-ground collaborators, rejecting top-down hierarchy. From this groundwork, a project’s unique Soul, rooted in its locale, emerges.
Our recognisability comes from this consistent way of working, narrative-driven, human-centred, detail-obsessed, not repeat finishes or layouts. Each work belongs to its place, yet our DNA still resonates, much like recognising a musician by their sensibility, not the same repeated tune.




Visual dazzle is nearly always a happy side-effect, never our primary goal. There are countless interiors that photograph spectacularly, yet leave you emotionally flat the moment you step inside. They amount to beautiful decoration, not lived-in design.
Lasting memorability emerges when function, craft and human empathy align. Thoughtful layout, intelligent material choices and meticulous execution lay the foundation. But the real sticking power comes from designing around human behaviour, not purely aesthetics. When all those layers are woven coherently, a space develops its own distinct character, the quality that stays with people long after they leave. Guests may forget exactly which finishes they saw, but they never forget how a room made them feel.




Working across global cultures has been one of the greatest privileges of our practice. Every new city, every unfamiliar context and every new collaborator expands our perspective and keeps our curiosity alive. Engaging with foreign traditions, navigating unfamiliar craft practices and solving site-specific challenges all feed back into how we read human needs.
Each project becomes part of our shared lived experience, not merely another portfolio entry. It has taught me a clear distinction: surface-level tastes shift dramatically across borders, yet deeper human aspirations, for comfort, belonging and genuine connection, are universal. Cross-cultural work keeps us grounded; it humbles you and stops you from ever believing you hold all the answers.



Sense of place is non-negotiable for us. For any project we take on, there has to be an emotional connection, and that is our Heart. Without that heartfelt investment, you cannot craft authentic narrative-driven design or tell meaningful stories through interiors.
Today’s global luxury traveller seeks real destination experience; they do not want interchangeable, sanitised spaces replicated across every major city. We dive deep into local history and heritage, then bring those insights to life by working with regional makers and locally sourced materials. Of course we honour international guests’ expectations of refinement and comfort, but we refuse to sand away local character to fit some generic global luxury template. Get that balance right, and visitors receive both the sophistication they expect and the authentic spirit of the destination they travelled to discover.




That risk is absolutely real. A luxury hotel is far more than rooms and dining. It acts as an anchor for a city’s history and its stories, and deserves its own unique character. Too many developments fall back on off-the-shelf luxury visual tropes that feel interchangeable across continents.
We push back against that by centring narrative above decorative styling. Every site carries its own story; our job is to unlock that and translate it spatially. Contextual research, bespoke craft and respect for location together birth a project’s one-of-a-kind identity. Skip that investigative, creative groundwork and jump straight to aesthetics, and you end up with generic spaces no one truly remembers.




Discipline, knowing what to leave out, has always been central to our practice, long before social media. Restraint grows from simple logic: every element needs a clear reason to exist within the project’s larger narrative. If something does not serve function or the overarching story, it should not be there.
Social media does create pressure for instantly “Instagram-worthy” moments, yet paradoxically public online feedback has sharpened our instincts rather than tempting us into excess. We get immediate, unfiltered insight into how spaces land for real people, which keeps us connected to the emotional reality of our audience. Oddly enough, this emboldens us to pursue precise, confident, restrained concepts. Flashy features can fool a camera, but they cannot fool a human standing physically inside a room.




We welcome AI as a powerful creative tool that amplifies our thinking. It allows rapid iteration and precise visualisation of complex ideas, concepts that once would demand prohibitive time and budget just to explore. It accelerates our early-stage creative exploration enormously.
Still, technology remains only an instrument. Human designers must hold creative direction and deliver those critical final judgements. Deep material literacy and hands-on craft expertise grow even more precious in this new landscape. AI can generate countless options, yet it cannot truly feel a material, read how light moves across a hand-finished surface, or anticipate the subtle emotional effect of hand-worked detail on people. Technology speeds us up; craft keeps our work rooted in tangible, human reality. They complement each other beautifully, but one will never fully replace the other.



You can understand our design outlook by looking at Hong Kong’s food culture. Many places serve adapted, localised versions of foreign cuisines. Hong Kong, by contrast, celebrates authentic traditions side by side. Eastern and Western influences co-exist, inspire one another, and do not erase each other’s identities. That open-minded pluralism shaped our studio from the beginning.
This mindset informs everything we do. We draw inspiration globally, but avoid superficial cultural pastiche. That Hong Kong-bred instinct for cross-cultural curiosity permeates our teams across Hong Kong, Taipei and Kyoto, no matter which country we are designing in.




I see these two goals as synergetic, a winning formula rather than a conflict to resolve. Our philosophy value framework is exactly how we reconcile business performance with deeper cultural and emotional purpose. Driven by Mind (intelligent strategy and contextual research), shaped by Hand (flawless execution and craft), guided by Heart (empathy for guests and stakeholders), the project is ultimately defined by its Soul. When a space carries authentic soul, it resonates deeply with guests. That emotional resonance is precisely what drives long-term commercial success.
Guests return to places that move them. You cannot manufacture genuine feeling purely for profit, but build a meaningful, soulful space and commercial success naturally follows.




Hospitality projects operate on long timelines, often five years or more from concept to opening. So what we draw today is effectively the blueprint for tomorrow’s hospitality. Trends will shift and technology will advance, yet hospitality’s core mission stays unchanged: to craft rich, meaningful human experiences. That has guided AB Concept since we founded the studio back in 1999.
Moving forward, guests will want more than high-end finishes. They will seek grounding, real connection and authenticity, spaces that offer comfort alongside moments of gentle escapism. Our goal is to keep delivering narrative-driven, human-centred interiors: work that honours locality, champions craft and gives every project its own irreplaceable character. Trends fade; human feeling endures.
I would like to thank Ed Ng for such a considered conversation about the difference between a room that photographs well and one that stays with you, and for naming the standardisation creeping through international luxury hospitality rather than talking around it. His argument that commercial success follows emotional resonance rather than competing with it is a useful corrective to the way these projects are usually discussed, and his read on AI, that it makes material knowledge more valuable rather than less, is one worth returning to as the tools improve.
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