Radit Mahindro has spent the last decade working across Bali’s storied hotels—from one of Bali’s earliest beachfront hotels, Tandjung Sari, sustainability-driven ‘creative village’ Potato Head, to global luxury hotel group Aman, where he currently holds the role of Senior Regional Director of Marketing and Communications.
In 2020, Radit began documenting his research and insights in a 10-part article series, chronicling a century of Balinese architecture and its influence on the hospitality and tourism industry. That same year, he partnered with longtime friend and art director Krisna Sudharma to launch Paras, an online publication dedicated to the subject. The project soon caught the attention of Malaysian publishing house Atelier Publication, leading to a collaboration that transformed his writings into print.
With the book set to launch early next year, we sat down with Radit at Tandjung Sari’s open-air library—where Radit and Krisna first exchanged the ideas for Paras—to discuss the evolving Balinese architecture style and visual language, its role in cultural exchange, and the relevancy of designing with context amidst the wave of commercial development.
Raina Alonge: Radit, do you recall your first experience with architecture?
Radit Mahindro: I grew up in a beautiful colonial house in Malang, East Java. The house had big pillars, high ceilings, terrazzo floors, mid-century furniture and a large lawn. Intuitively, I think the experience shaped my personal taste in spatial design.
RA: And how did this lead to your foray into hospitality?
RM: I initially wanted to study architecture because I enjoy drawing, but I ended up studying graphic design. My first hospitality job was in 2010, at Hotel Majapahit in Surabaya, where I had no prior knowledge of the industry whatsoever. But the property and architecture were really fascinating, especially with its long history with the Sarkies brothers, who built iconic hotels like Raffles Singapore, the Eastern & Oriental in Penang, Malaysia, and The Strand in Myanmar. Then I moved to Bali in 2012.
Note: The Sarkies brothers—Martin, Tigran, Aviet and Arshak Sarkies—were Armenian businessmen who built a hospitality empire across Southeast Asia at the end of the 19th century. In 1911, Lucas Martin Sarkies, son of Martin Sarkies, opened the Oranje Hotel in Surabaya, which was later renamed Hotel Majapahit in 1996.
RA: What brought you to Bali?
RM: I received a job offer from Kayumanis, it was there that I got introduced to their villas in Bali and China that were designed by renowned Indonesian architects and interior designers like Andra Matin, Budi Pradono, Hidajat Endramukti and Tan Tik Lam. You can say that working at Kayumanis was my foundation to hospitality architecture.
Their use of space was unlike the ‘typical’ hotel I’d encountered at that time. Simple yet thoughtful details, like the freedom to have breakfast wherever you prefer on the property, made it feel much more like home than a hotel. Their designs also manage to strike the right balance between traditional and contemporary Bali. A good example is the Kayumanis in Nusa Dua; although dominated by concrete, the restaurant features a tetaring roof made from woven bamboo and palm fronds.
“If you take the definition of the word, [hospitality] simply means to care for and host someone, so in that sense, you can experience hospitality even in the most unlikely environments.”
RA: You have quite the resume, hospitality insiders would be envious.
RM: I moved around quite a lot actually (laughs). I feel like I need something new every two to three years. After Kayumanis, I moved to Regent where I was first introduced to the name Adrian Zecha. Afterwards, I moved to Sofitel—I wanted to know what it feels like working in a massive 400-room hotel.
Following that, I spent time at Alila, and then at Potato Head. During the pandemic, I took on consulting projects with Tandjung Sari, Nirjhara, and Begawan alongside Aman. I joined Aman full time in 2021.
Note: Adrian Zecha is a renowned Indonesian journalist-turned-hotelier. Best known as the founder of luxury hotel group Aman (1988), he’s worked with celebrated architects including Ed Tuttle, Jaya Ibrahim, Jean Michel Gathy, and Kerry Hill, to redefine luxury hospitality through five properties across Indonesia and 30 destinations worldwide. Zecha has also founded and managed prestigious brands such as Regent International Hotels, GHM (General Hotel Management), and Azerai.
RA: That’s quite the experience! Before we talk about your upcoming book ‘Paras’, let’s jump to the 10-article series you penned during the pandemic and published on your Medium, which covers a century of Balinese hospitality architecture. Was this something you’ve always wanted to do?
RM: I have to emphasise that I’m not a writer or researcher. The article series was put together from the point of view of a curious hotel enthusiast who wants to understand why Bali was heavily dependent on hospitality and tourism. I’ve also been very lucky in my career to be exposed to the designs of big names in the architecture industry, such as Andra Matin, BLINK Design Group, Cheong Yew Kuan, Hendra Hadiprana, Jaya Ibrahim, Kerry Hill, and WOHA. Their works have played a significant role in shaping both the article series and the book.
RA: So, in a sense, the article series is an extension of your personal experience of these hospitality spaces as well?
RM: Yes. Because so many Indonesians, myself included, would agree that when they hear the word hospitality, they immediately think about hotels. You know, I’ve been working in the industry for 15 years and what is hospitality? I think hospitality is a feeling. If you take the definition of the word, it simply means to care for and host someone, so in that sense, you can experience hospitality even in the most unlikely environments.
I think this is what made some early hotels [in Bali] very special, because their owners fell in love first with the location and the culture. You can see it in hotels like Tandjung Sari and Villa Batujimbar, which were created as personal retreats for the founders—a place they want to live in, enjoy, and host friends and family.
Adrian Zecha changed the industry entirely because he simply transformed his house in Phuket into Amanpuri. No lobby, no bill to sign, no menu. He was simply building his own house, so there was no need for a reception desk or any of the sorts. If you look at the architecture of the first few Aman hotels, they weren’t necessarily built to impress.
RA: Let’s start from the beginning. Could you take us through some of the defining milestones that have shaped the course of Balinese architecture in hospitality?
RM: Back then, there was a common belief among Balinese people that one should live near the mountains, where the gods were thought to dwell, while the ocean was seen as the realm for dark spirits. For a long time, the coastline was considered angker, or haunted.
By the 1930s, Bali began attracting more visitors, yet Kuta, despite being the closest beach to the airport, remained relatively scarce of accommodations. In 1936, American surfer Bob Koke and his wife Louise built the Kuta Beach Hotel (the site is now occupied by Hard Rock Hotel Bali), the first lodging along Bali’s coastline. Reflecting the laid-back surf culture, they constructed a series of rustic huts using natural materials around the area, such as coconut wood, coral, and sand.
In 1956, entrepreneurs Ida Bagus Kompiang and his wife, Anak Agung Mirah Astuti, opened the Segara Beach Hotel in Sanur. A few years later, in 1962, Dutch-Indonesian entrepreneur Wija Waworuntu—also the founder of Jenggala Ceramics—followed suit with the opening of Tandjung Sari, also in Sanur. These early establishments changed the game and opened new opportunities for a new era of beachfront hospitality establishments, further solidifying Bali’s ‘tropical paradise’ image as we know it now.
Note: Established in 1931 as Denpasar Airport, Ngurah Rai International Airport began as a small airstrip for domestic flights. In 1969, it was officially renamed and expanded to accommodate the growing tourism industry.
“I think this is what made some early hotels [in Bali] very special, because their owners fell in love first with the location and the culture.”
RA: And this marked the beginning of the tourism industry in Bali?
RM: You could say that. Around the same time, the Balinese artist collective Pita Maha was established. Founded by the Ubud royal family alongside European artists Rudolf Bonett and Walter Spies—renowned for his paintings of the Indonesian landscape that solidified Bali’s image as a tropical paradise—the group saw an opportunity for cultural exchange. They aimed to invite foreigners to experience Balinese culture firsthand through interactions with the local community while introducing new creative perspectives to enrich the island’s visual arts.
For six years before WWII, the collective met regularly at Spies’ Campuhan home in Ubud (now Hotel Tjampuhan). This period marked Bali’s second phase, establishing it as a vibrant hub of art and culture. Today, these two images—tropical paradise and a cultural hub—remain central to the island’s identity.
Note: The aforementioned Ubud royal family include Tjokorda Gde Raka Soekawati, Tjokorda Agung Soekawati and Undagi Gusti Nyoman Lempad. Before the formation of Pita Maha, Balinese art was primarily focused on religious and ceremonial themes, depicting scenes from Hindu epics and wayang (shadow puppet) performances. Artists like Spies and Bonnet introduced a new approach that centres on human figures and everyday scenes, shifting the focus to more personal and universal themes.
RA: The ‘70s was a pivotal era in Balinese architecture, attracting celebrated architects to the island, from Geoffrey Bawa, Peter Muller, and Kerry Hill.
RM: The ‘70s gave birth to the first generation of Balinese tropical hotels that combined traditional aesthetics with a more modern, global perspective. There was The Bali Hyatt in Sanur and also the Kayu Aya, later developed as Oberoi Hotel in Seminyak which became the first five-star hotel in Bali.
It was also around this time that Peter Muller and Adrian Zecha developed the concept that would eventually become Amandari, with Australian architect and landscaper Michael White also contributing to the project.
Michael, who later adopted a Balinese name Made Wijaya, travelled across Bali to study different types of shrines and architecture. He published five books, including ‘The Architecture of Bali’ (2002), a comprehensive visual study examining 30 years of Balinese architecture and styles.
Note: The late Michael White was originally invited to Bali by Warwick Purser, then General Manager of Tandjung Sari to design the gardens for another project he was involved in, Villa Batujimbar. This led to other landscaping projects like The Oberoi, Bali Hyatt, and Four Seasons Resort Bali at Jimbaran Bay.
RA: Throughout your research and years in the industry, you must have encountered various interpretations of the ‘Balinese’ style.
RM: When talking about the Balinese style, people use this term to refer to the use of alang-alang and other traditional materials. But is that to say that more modern establishments like Katamama in Desa Potato Head is a departure from the Balinese style? Because if you really think about it, Balinese style is all about craftsmanship.
Designed by Andra Matin, Katamama embodies this by having every brick made by hand—a process that took two years to complete. The attention to craftsmanship extends to every detail, from the custom amenities to handcrafted slippers and yukata. Yet despite its contemporary feel, it doesn’t feel out of place and still manages to capture the feel of Bali.
Note: Katamama first opened in April 2016. The boutique hotel reopened in June 2022 as part of the rebranded creative village, Desa Potato Head.
RA: In many ways, it redefines and broadens the scope of Bali’s visual language in hospitality.
RM: I think Katamama has served as a catalyst for the younger generation [of architects] to explore different ways to reinterpret and push Balinese culture forward. It inspired other establishments to pay closer attention to details, from room decoration to the use of indigo dye and natural materials.
At the same time, Desa Potato Head brought a fresh perspective to the hospitality scene with its open-layout concept. While the idea of a hotel being accessible to the public isn’t new—consider the Oberoi, which has welcomed non-guests to its amphitheatre and bars since 1978—Potato Head does this really well.
What sets them apart is the absence of a traditional lobby, creating a campus-like openness that makes the space feel informal for guests to freely move around the compound.
RA: Would you say the success of Desa Potato Head indicates a broader shift in the type of experience holiday makers are looking for in Bali?
RM: Today, guests have different motivations and expectations. In the past, first-time visitors to Bali looked for spaces where they could truly experience the local culture. Returning travellers, however, are now prioritising destinations that offer a range of experiences—from coffee shops, beach clubs, wellness centres, fashion boutiques and clubs, all at once.
RA: Even so, Bali’s sense of craftsmanship continues to stand out.
RM: Yes, because at the end of the day, beyond aesthetics, I think what’s important is that the establishments reflect the landscape, culture and society. The Balinese Hindu philosophy of Asta Kosala Kosali teaches us about location and orientation, physical and spatial function, and human scale and proportion. It’s more of a philosophy rather than a design style, but that’s probably the closest thing we have to a guideline of ‘Balinese architecture’.
The goal should be to express the Balinese spirit outward, rather than bring outside influences in.
Note: Grounded in traditional Balinese cosmology, Asta Kosala Kosali outlines eight key principles for design, focusing on honouring sacred directions and energy flow to foster harmony between humans, nature, and the divine.
“If you really think about it, Balinese style is all about craftsmanship.”
RA: What do you mean by that?
RM: Kerry Hill’s works reflect this idea well. In one of his lectures, he explained, “We like to think that each building is designed especially for its context and its place. I feel that you need to perpetuate the traditions within the culture and material of a place through your architecture so that it is appropriate.”
This deep sense of context is central to his designs. In Bali, for example, Hill designed The Serai (now Alila Manggis), to frame the natural coastal beauty of Manggis in Karangasem. The result is a series of two-storey building blocks built around a square swimming pool diagonally facing the Lombok Strait. It looks both sleek and spacious yet still maintains the ‘old Bali’ charm.
Hill also worked on notable projects including The Datai in Malaysia, Amankora in Bhutan, Amanyangyun in China, and Aman Kyoto in Japan. These three Aman properties required more than 15 years to complete due to the complexity and Hill’s respect to the history, culture and landscape of each location.
RA: This idea of context feels especially relevant now, considering the increase of commercial developments in Bali.
RM: The real challenge is understanding the island. Architects, no matter where they’re from, may have studied architecture, but have they studied Bali?
In Bali hospitality, we face the same question. Many of us have studied tourism, hotel management, or marketing, but have we studied Bali? While many new establishments are visually appealing, some look like they could be anywhere else in the world, lacking a true connection to the local culture and context.
RA: Where does Paras fit within all of this?
RM: Paras was actually conceived here in the restaurant [in Tandjung Sari]. Krisna Sudharma, my collaborator, comes from the art scene, with an extensive collection of archives and connections to the old masters and artists.
We both look up to the Pita Maha movement as a great model for cultural exchange. The collective effectively combined travel, hospitality, and art. We believe that merging these elements can invite a more thoughtful perspective, and Paras was created to showcase this archive that bridges these worlds.
RA: What sets it apart from the original 10-article series?
RM: The book will begin with two introductory essays, penned by Pak I Nyoman Gede Mahaputra and myself. These essays will delve into the pre-Majapahit era, the impact of colonialism and Orientalism, and other pivotal historical moments. These weren’t part of the article series, but I believe it is crucial for readers to gain a foundational understanding of Bali before the advent of tourism in 1924.
Note: I Nyoman Gede Mahaputra is a distinguished scholar at Warmadewa University and co-chair of the International Advisory Board at the Warmadewa Research Centre in Bali.
“But I believe it’s time for a shift towards ‘destinationism’ over tourism, where we prioritise the destination, landscape, and culture over everything else.”
RA: I noticed that the book also includes “intermezzo” sections and interviews with up to 16 architects and hospitality pioneers, from Andra Matin, John Halpin of the Oberoi, Mark Edleson formerly of Alila, and Ronald Akili of Potato Head.
RM: Interspersed throughout the book will be a series of intermezzos comprising interviews and side stories. These will offer a broader context, such as the ‘Visit Indonesia Year 1991’ campaign, which significantly influenced the rapid development of mega-resorts in the Nusa Dua area.
I hope that this book will allow the public to glimpse into Bali’s rich history and inspire a deeper appreciation for its stunning landscapes, history, and culture beyond just hotels.
RA: With all this knowledge that you’ve accumulated while preparing for Paras, do you notice any particular new direction in Bali hospitality that you’re most excited for?
RM: In the last chapter of the book, I wrote about three projects: Buahan by The Banyan tree in Northern Ubud, Tenda by Soori, and the Potato Head development in Tabanan. They all aim to balance guest comfort with sustainability, while focusing on reducing carbon footprints and really integrating themselves with the surrounding nature.
A prototype of Tenda’s fully modular cabin is currently on display behind the Soori Bali compound in Kelating Village, Tabanan. I’m excited to see how these projects come to life, and if they succeed commercially, how they’ll set a new benchmark in hospitality design.
But I believe it’s time for a shift towards ‘destinationism’ over tourism, where we prioritise the destination, landscape, and culture over everything else. That’s what we hope Paras can embody.
RA: Lastly, how will Paras’ online publication continue to expand the dialogue, even after the book release?
RM: Paras [the online publication] will always focus on larger topics around tourism in Bali and champion the mindset of ‘destinationism’ over tourism. Krisna and I are also thinking of creating something that is more experiential, perhaps an art exhibition? We don’t want to get stuck in one form.
RA: Do you have anything in mind?
RM: There are endless possibilities. But just like the book, we will do everything in Paras slowly. We have no deadline and this is not a business. At least for now.
This interview has been condensed and edited for clarity.
