Midas Touch: Concierge Service in Hong Kong to the Max: Your Every Whim and Wish Fulfilled

Have your wishes obeyed, says P.Ramakrishnan, your every craving can be fulfilled in the privacy of your own home, where the telephone is your personal Genie and a credit card is your magic carpet.

As her husband left for a meeting hours before she came to grips with jet lag, she awakens alone in her room. Flipping through a mind-numbing array of channels on her flat screen TV, she pauses to find a familiar face smiling back at her, Julia Roberts on In the Wild series. The cine-siren looks like she is having so much fun. Reaching for her Vertu phone, she presses the button that immediately connects her to Quintessentially, and to the friendly concierge service, she says, "I'd like to play with a baby chimpanzee this weekend."

Before she knows it, a meeting between madam and simian is arranged for only HK$10,000. A fabulist tale to feed urban legend in a city devoid of wildlife? Hardly. Hong Kong is a land of endless opportunity to those who have copious amounts of credit and credibility. In a city that has more millionaires per square mile than Hollywood, New York or London, perfectly manicured fingers are forever punching in digits to get things signed, sealed and delivered to their doorstep.

A knock on the door leads to the arrival of a home-delivered bottle of bubbly the size of a small child. She uncorks, lifts and pours bubbling gold into an Italian tiled Jacuzzi. Marilyn Monroe and Jayne Mansfield reportedly dipped their celebrated bodies every week in champagne ablutions, as did King Louis XIV of France. In Hong Kong, she finds herself in the finest bathwater, Veuve Clicquot's La Grande Dame, and before the sun rises again, HK$605,760 will have been poured away. Courtesy of a call to Richemonde's direct sales department, several Balthazars were delivered for the VIP client.

A bushel of Waratah petals, one of the rarest flowers in the world, litters a silver Tiffany & Co basin, for a mere $15,208. Found only Down Under, the rare flora was purchased via phone-auction at Sotheby's Australia by her personal assistant and they arrived only moments ago, plucked simply to delicately scent her bath. Gingerly, she slips out of her hand-painted (and hand-delivered) wooden Dior shoes, of which only 2,000 were made in 2002, and sold for just under HK$10,000. She sinks into the sparkling champagne.

Her pedicured poodle Pooky trots by. Despite his long face, she feels her pup has been in a better mood since the seance she had for Pooky and his bitch, who died a month ago, after the dog-caretaker left her too long under the curling helmet. It totalled $4,000 but was money well spent on the reader from the New Age Shop.

Her phone buzzes and she's informed the delivery was made on her hubby's flight. "Yes, mm hmm," she mumbles, trying to slip her Lucida diamond toe-ring off with her other foot. The life-sized teddy bear accompanying her husband made it through immigration and was belted comfortably into the Gulfstream G5. A simple speed-dial to Metrojet ($1,369,000) for the 15 hour return journey to LA) and her beloved was floating on air in utter comfort.

"Ma'am, they have arrived," says one of the staff after a glove-padded knock on the door. Trained at the Ivor Spencer international school for butler administrations, his salary rivals that of a manager in a major bank, but where else would she find someone trained to fly her chopper as well as deliver a steaming cup of mocha with the same degree of ease?

With aerated excitement she slides out of the tub to see what taitai.com has delivered. Though a technophobe, she was thrilled to log onto the Net and order the entire fashion spread of September's UK Elle. A few clicks and two-fingered typing made her the first owner of that collection in the continent.

Signing off the invoice with one of the rarest pens in the world, she didn't look twice at the instrument that had fascinated her for all of 15 minutes. French artist Michel Audiard's mammoth tooth pen ($182,000) is held only by presidents and other captains of industry, but this session of retail therapy is flung aside soon after she circles the total of $421,000 from her bill.

Sifting through the rack of her new favourite line, stroking one of the whispery textiles, her assistant gives her the phone again, "Your mother, ma'am."

That would be the chair, she presumes. For mother's day she had delivered an ergonomically perfected Osim iMedic 500 Massage chair ($31,571) wrapped in Mongolian, hand-knit pashmina (an additional $38,987) to her mother in Vancouver. Her black card came in handy on her impromptu decision to send a gift at such short notice.

She had considered giving Mother the portrait she had done by Simon Birch, but when she saw how beautiful she looked, she decided not to part with it.

What she didn't know, of course, were the hurdles the service would have to jump through to find the chair supplier, deal with customs, and work through a public holiday to deliver on time a limited-edition chair. The devils in the details were shoved under the carpet as she heard, "It is lovely, I just don't know what to do with it!"

Hmm. A multi-lingual technician will have to be arranged to help Mother employ her high-tech recliner. Re-dialling her Centurion contact, expedient arrangements are made.

While chatting, her favourite stylist, Philip B, swishes in and she warmly greets him before he and his entourage start setting up. Stylist to the stars in Los Angeles, a well-advanced jingle had him on a flight and in person, in the room with his bouquet of hair-spa treatments. "Gotta go!" she calls down the line to her mum. She sits down as stylist and assistant puff and coif her head into Hepburnian perfection.

There for all of 60 minutes, with a bill totalling $39,500 (not including first-class return tickets from the States at HK$60,000, and his stay at the Inter Continental Hong Kong Deluxe Suite, HK$14,000) he sits on a chaise nattering as her face gets painted by Cameron Diaz's make-up artist, Gucci Westman. On cue, Westman had entered the scene. Their rendezvous was arranged via agent Art and Commerce.

Astride on a stool wrapped in songket, the gold-threaded textile once worn exclusively by Malaysian royalty (a whopping $21,392 per sq/m), a blur of hands fasten sashes on her back, roll strands of a $238,000 Cartier double-rowed diamond, coral and gold necklace that her personal shopper from Lane Crawford wisely picked out. Priceless in her eye, but 426,000 on the register. Someone sprayed her fovourite scent (custom made in the French city of Grasse, at HK$1,400/250ml), as a final nail brush stroke coats an aberrant chip. In a flourish she's done.

Even the border-hopping mane man was impressed. "When's project Dumbo drop?" he asks, referring to her plans to have an elephant greet guests at the entrance of her upcoming bash.

"Not good. They can't ship one in from Africa but the Thai connection is working out well. Ideally, the African giants would be perfect - they have bigger ears than the Asian elephants - but Loxodonta africanas area protected species."

"Can it be done?"

"Of course! You-know-who got in a pair of albino peacocks for her wedding reception brunch to flitter in the garden. Just a matter of logistics that people have to deal with."

When told that the Moscow circus have sent animals and their trainers for private viewing for less than HK$3,000 per hour, her eyes sparkle brighter than her jewels.

One of the staff arrive with a fax that had concurrently been sent to her spouse. The grand total of her recent expenditure had reached Imelda Marcosian proportions. This didn't include her elephantine expedition which would be another HK$200,000 (the elephant itself cost a mere HK$35,000). How did it reach him so quickly, she near-frowned, as the tax-month always made him gratuitously cranky?

A shadow slides across the carpet and it dawns on her who sent the grand tabulation of $3,466,426 to her husband: "Ah, the butler did it."

*Names have been changed to protect the decadent. 

Originally published in Hong Kong Tatler. 

Shy & Mighty: Rebecca Woo: Profile in Hong Kong Tatler

The seemingly reserved Rebecca Woo is full of surprises - and opinions. P.Ramakrishnan writes. 

As her mother is renowned artist Nancy Chu Woo, there lies circumstantial expectation that from that gene pool, droplets of creative distinction would have dribbled down to daughter Rebecca Woo. 

Just as we are making our introductions, a friend who happens to be present brings out her one endeavour with the paintbrush. The large acrylic canvas leaves the most verbose a bit speechless. Well, it's colourful, and clearly Rebecca can move paint from palette to paper, but her attempts at Art Jam have not wowed friends or family. 

"My parents were not entirely supportive of this attempt of mine. So a few friends and I did a switch with one of my mother's paintings in the dining room before they hosted a dinner party. She didn't notice till everyone was seated," says Rebecca with a shy grin. "Taking the humour in stride, my mother laughed. One of the guests apparently even remarked on her change in style!" 

Fortunately, her current job in equity sales at a top US investment bank does not require fine arts credentials. She more than makes up for any lack of direct artistic ability with interest and admiration for the arts. 

"What appeals to me is the fusion of almost traditional brushwork with a modern, often abstract, aesthetic; the 17th century Buddhist monk artist Bada Shanren, or 'master of the lotus garden,' is one of my all-time favourites," Woo explains. "When I worked in the US, his retrospective at Yale really struck a chord with me. The art was very Zen, very simple and highly expressive. His usage of blank or negative space was very distinctive." 

Her disparate interests reflects the person behind the banker persona. A staunch supporter of the arts, and not just because of her lineage (even her doctor father plays the violin), Woo is known to be low-key, and chances of finding her at a swanky party or club are slimmer than she is. How many number-crunchers would prefer to substitute the cocktail circuit with an art fair in Europe? 

 "Last year, I was at the Basel Art Fair, which must be one of the world's premier gatherings to showcase modern art in all forms. It was particularly encouraging to see a growing representation of Asian art galleries and artists," she continues. "It was incredible, just incredible, to see all this in one space over a few days. Almost an aesthetic overload!" 

Surrounded by paintings and sculpture that set the mood of the living and dining rooms of her parents' home, she points out three large scrolls by her mother - a nude triptych - done simply, using black Chinese ink. Her intentions to home them at her residence was, she says "gazzumped" by her father. But other works by her mother and bought at exhibitions as well as sculptures she's seen around the world have found spots chez Woo. 

 "Strong lines draw me in, whether in a painting, or the lines in classic Chinese furniture or any type of sculpture. Simple, understated, expressive, having the ability to transcend time - that's what I look out for," she says, demarcating her preference and style. Perhaps the same words could reverberate when describing her wardrobe, as her finely cut Akira Isagawa summer dress seems to murmur understated simplicity. 

As the photographer adjusts the lights, moves some of the furniture around and throws assorted instructions, she remains nonplussed, even blocking out the din of her boisterous friends and remaining persistently focused. 

Woo reflects, "When we were young, my brother and I were taken to museums and exhibitions, and my mother always made it fun for us. She would send us on a search mission, be it for the number of blue flowers in a ceramic pieces or count the number of particular figures that appear repeatedly in various paintings. She made it a game and we were quiet, concentrating and didn't trouble anyone for hours." 

It is this ability to focus that has persisted over the years as a child, student and beyond. She did her undergrad at Harvard, earning a bachelor's degree in East Asian studies, and followed it with a Master's at London University in the same field. While others mouth lofty ambitions to sail the seven seas and stomp across the globe, Woo systemically plans her exotic trips and hits the road. 

"At the end of the year, some friends and I are hopefully going to the Silk road for a couple of weeks, which I am really looking forward to. I went to Patagonia two years ago, which is a beautiful, untouched part of southern Chile. I've gone trekking in Bhutan, canoed through the Okavango Delta....." 

A voice from the background exclaims: "She's always doing 10 things at a time! She does yoga, karate, plays tennis, runs, is always suggesting a concert of sorts, wanting to take up language lessons, cooking something exotic." 

In conclusive agreement, she says, "There is so much of the world to explore and experience, always something new to learn." 

Credits: Image Seated nude ink & gouache on rice paper, by Nancy Choo Woo.

Update: 

Wow, this was over a decade ago. The interview was fun and Rebecca was great chat  - but what I remember from that day, the art director and photographer getting into an argument mid shoot and mid interview. The first and last time I worked with him - I can't even remember his name. 

May 2021

Currying Flavours: Indian Food in Hong Kong: Novel Dishes: Authentic Taste

P.Ramakrishnan urges people to be adventurous with Indian dishes by sampling the more exotic treats - some not even on the menu. 

A spicy curry, pappadams, naan bread and samosas do not constitute Indian food in its full range, yet few strangers to Indian cuisine are willing to go beyond what is easy to remember from the menu. 

From the foot of Kanyakumari to the head of Kashmir, India is a celebration of diversity, in language, customs, religion and food. Ask any Indian chef or restaurateur will cry, Indian food need not be spicy or heavy. 

For light dishes, head down South. Other than dosas, most south Indian dishes are neglected almost entirely due to the fear of the multi-syllabic, unpronounceable names the dishes are burdened with. As Ganga, from Gunga Din, will admit, only those in the know will pick up the navaratanam korma. a grand mixture of nine vegetables and fruits - French beans, carrots, cauliflower, green peas, potato, capsicum, mushroom, apple, pineapple - and nuts (often almonds) cooked in cashew-nut sauce and dressed with cottage cheese, it is a rich delicacy that vegetarians would adore. Similarly, dosas are far more popular than the odd-sounding uttapam - which are, in essence, a thicker version of the rice flour pancake. Layered with tomatoes, onions and green chilli, it is primarily a breakfast item in Kerala and Tamil Nadu, but they also make an excellent light lunch. Although, fried, it does not simmer in coats of oil. 

To the Chinese palate, an iddly may be a novelty in syllables but not in taste. The steamed, savoury rice cakes in Woodlands come with sambar (a spicy vegetable soup) and coconut chutney (a staple item in southern India, as most of the land is strewn with palm groves and rice paddies) that makes a delicious instant lunch. To sample a variety of curries in one go, try the thali at Woodlands. The Indian version of fastfood (although preparation is anything but), thalis are large metal plates with many cups, each filled with small portions of different curries. Pappadams, savoury wafers that come in a variety of flavours (either studded with crushed black pepper and red chilli powder or sprinkled with asafoetida), are a bonus. 

For the best of Indian food, try Kashmiri cuisine. More "meat-centric" than food of the southern regions, these dishes - such as the mutton, marinated in spices - take hours of preparation. These dishes have evolved from the times when Muslim moguls once ruled India. The North Indian cooking style is now a synthesis of Kashmiri, Punjabi and Mughlian food with basic vegetarian curries (dhal or lentils) on the side. Meats traditionally burnt over a charcoal fire, are mixed in finely granulated spices. The masala (a range of flavouring and seasoning agents) dishes are offset by sweet lassis (a yoghurt, often flavoured, milk shake). As the manager at the Mughul restaurant in Wyndham Street, Central, says, any of the dishes can be toned down by either going easy with the spice rack or by adding cream. Every restaurant will gladly modify dishes to suit the customer's palate. 

At the other end of India, Assam touches neighbouring countries Bangladesh and Myanmar (and is not too far from China, either) where the natives introduced an uncommon element to the Indian diet - noodles! Khauwse are thick threads of wheat flour mixed with meat (chicken, lamb or prawns), a rare treat in Hong Kong and available at the Mughul restaurant. Let your taste buds explore the rich, multitudinous flavours of India. 

Sunday, October 7, 2001

A Global Dawning

Atul Dodiya is helping to put India on the modern art map, writes P.Ramakrishnan.

Forget about the pictorial clichés of India. Contemporary artist Atul Dodiya doesn't do snake charmers, elephants and the Taj Mahal in bright and vibrant colours. Instead, his oil paintings are subtle and introspective.

In Vishal, for example, he examines the simultaneous pictorial depiction of the interior and exterior of a given space, while not one sari-clad, poverty stricken soul can be found in Lodging in Somnath. In his multi-layered work series, allegorical collages are an amalgam of Dodiya's life, and he also known to have thrown in the odd social and political references.

The prolific Mumbai-based artist is in Hong Kong this week to give a talk on what inspires and shapes his work. Organised by the Asia Art archive, the Thursday event will also introduce his vast pool of works that includes installation, photography and painting.

Next Sunday, Lodging in Somnath will go under the hammer at Christe's autumn sale here. Only six months ago the artist broke his personal record when Vishal fetched HK$3.1 million at Christie's.

"We are no more a part of the Indian art scene, we're part of a global art scene," says Dodiya when describing Indian art and artists. "We feel a solid freedom. American artists, European masters, Chinese artists Japanese art - we can relate to all their work and it is visible and palpable in contemporary Indian art."

Born in Mumbai in 1959, the JJ School of Art graduate says local recognition of his artistic talent came only seven years ago. He says the country is still in shock that the art it produces can today make millions of dollars.

"Recognition [of my work] within the Indian community itself came late. Modern cities around the world have exhibited my works over many years, in New York, in Madrid, in Tokyo. For example, back in 2001, the Japan Foundation Asia Centre hosted a retrospective of my work," says Dodiya.

"It's only recently, when the media started reporting how well Indian artists are doing around the world, did a sudden emergence of interest in contemporary Indian art in India itself come about."

And it is often the money, rather than the art, that arouses interest among the elite in the country. Since Christie's launched sales of Modern & Contemporary Indian Art in New York in 2000, sales have continued to rise, with US$42 million in sales in 2006.

Tyeb Mehta's Mahisasura holds the world record at US$1.6 million, and modern and contemporary Indian art has its own alcove in galleries studded around New York, London and Hong Kong.

But people understand sales better than artistic themes, don't they?

"In understanding Indian art, there are two divisions generally; modern and contemporary. With a great influence of artists like [Pablo] Picasso and [Henri] Matisse in Indian art, the current generation of artists, including myself, look beyond our own borders," says Dodiya. "Contemporary artists, young artists have a world vision. It's not just the woman carrying a clay pot in a vibrant sari that you see on canvas any more."

Dodiya joins a steadily rising tide of artists whose work adorns the walls of many a grand gallery.

With the esoteric themes that dwell in his work, would a Hong Kong audience be able to fully appreciate his contribution? Dodiya says: "Why Hong Kong? Even among my own people, I deal with those who don't understand a piece for what it is. For example, one of my works is inspired by a Gujarati poem. Now, even if you're from Germany or Delhi if you don't speak the language or if you aren't aware of that paricular poem, not many will follow the source of the inspiration.

"But it hasn't taken anything away from those who've liked the work. Their enjoyment hasn't been short changed."

With a chuckle he adds "There are some pieces even my own mother looked at and didn't understand.

"One of my works was an amalgam of the birth of the river Ganges, superimposed with Nude Descending Staircase. Now, she got the gist of how Ganga was born through the head of Lord Shiva but all references to [Marcel] Duchamp were gone."

So even though his Devoured Darkness series might not be understood by all, he has no problems with that.

"I must tell you that I really enjoy it when a viewer comes to a piece without any preconceived thoughts," he says.

"I give a clue, a few things he can understand clearly, others he can't. If he doesn't understand the mythologies of Hinduism, the infinite number of gods and goddesses, their tales that are interwined with the theme of some of my art - for the theme and style is ever changing in my work since I was 11 - then that's just fine.

"How refreshing it is to hear what they have to say and see in my work."


Sunday, November 18, 2007 Sunday Morning Post

Shaan of India: Young Singer Shines among New Gen: To Perform live in Hong Kong

Shaan will feature on the soundtracks of all of this year's big Bollywood films, but P.Ramakrishnan finds him unexpectedly modest.

When reminded of his first encounter with fame, Indian singer Shaan bursts out laughing. The 35-year old performer, born Shantanu Mukherjee, was appearing on television with his indie-pop group Oorja back in the early 1990s when a gaggle of female fans tried to grab his vest.

"Surely you're confusing me with someone else,"he says. "Girls have never been that interested in me. I was never cool."

His ever-present smile and long hair (shorn since he got married) seem to have ensured that he would attract teen fans, but Shaan feigns ignorance. "That wasn't me. I've never been a heart-throb."

Shaan, who will perform in Hong Kong next week, was born into a musical family. His father was music director Manas Mukherjee and his sister Sagarika is also a singer. He started singing jingles and trying to make it as an independent singer without joining the ranks of behind-the-scenes Bollywood playback singers.

"We wanted to be a pop group, but it never took off," he says. "The first album did relatively well, but the Indian pop scene is nowhere as strong as Bollywood film albums. I sang for a few films - not the big-budget ones, but smaller movies with new casts. Although the films didn't do brilliantly, the music did. And somehow I kept getting calls to sing for Hindi films."

Having won just about every award for best male playback singer for last year's song Subhaan Allah, from the film Fanaa, Shaan's career is now rock solid. As the host of a reality TV show, he's better known than most of his contemporaries. His appearances on TV and in film ("which I did for a lark - and never again!") haven't dulled his desire to remain a singer.

"I love singing in stage shows for the reaction - you know what the audience likes and what's popular," he says. "I mostly sing for a younger crowd as the music that's in clubs today - the film songs - cater to youth. But at the same time I also love to sing old numbers with great lyrics and melodies.

Despite appearing in front of a live audience every week for his television show, Shaan says he doesn't get nervous. "I've heard of singers who don't speak for 24 hours before they go on stage to save their voices, or don't sit near air-conditioning, or have strange diets. But if I had to not speak for a day, I'd go mad.

"I pray that I didn't get a cold or a cough on concert nights, but somehow I always pull through. I guess I'm lucky"

What's been his most memorable performance? "Years ago, I was on a stage somewhere and a gun was shot in the audience. I have to wear specs, I have poor eyesight, but I don't when I go on stage - so I had no idea what was going on and I kept singing. A bullet was fired somewhere. I thought it was part of the act by the producers and I kept going. With the stage lights and without my glasses, I couldn't see anything and kept thinking, "Well, the show must go on."

Shaan has landed work singing for nearly all the major Indian films in the coming year, and he's booked for concerts throughout Asia, the US and Britain.

He has been voted one of India's most popular singers by his peers, and never appears in the tabloids.

"That has more to do with the times than me," he says. "Gone are the old days when singers were constantly competing against each other. Now, there are hundreds of films being made and thousands of songs to be sung. There's work for everyone. So why bother back-biting and bitching?

"It isn't just me. My contemporaries feel the same way. We all steer clear of controversy and fights in print."

Shaan has just one complaint about the music scene. "I do wish singers were a bit better trained. I can always tell a good singer from a great one, when they've studied music, learned the craft and their voices aren't as scratchy or they don't break when they hit the high notes."

His own vocal range is wide, and he performs love songs, rock'n roll and melancholy numbers with equal ease.

"May be there's a trend towards a variety of voices, so the new generation craves a different sound - and I'm fine with that," he says. "But with strange videos and technological inputs, there's little actual singing involved."

Thursday, August 23, 2007