Ideally, there is a guiding image or a guiding feeling. Take the Salon Sacher as an example. Josephine Baker was the spark there. In 1928, during a stay in Vienna, she spent an afternoon signing embossed postcards in the Café Sacher – that was the image I had in my mind. So, for the Salon Sacher, we started from the spirit of Josephine Baker, a very lively, dynamic mood that at the same time has something timeless about it. After the first sketch, everything flowed naturally: the worlds of Vienna and Josephine Baker merged with the world of elegance. And in execution, fortunate coincidences also played a role.

During research, we came across a drawing by Josef Hoffmann from the same era. It was unclear what it was originally intended for, but for us, it fit perfectly – we translated it into the floor pattern. We also played with the House on the Lido, designed by Adolf Loos in the 1920s for Josephine Baker, legendary for its black-and-white stripes. Then, during the work, we uncovered a hidden stucco ceiling from the house’s original period – an unexpected gift we immediately embraced. By cutting a large opening five meters high, we reintroduced the ceiling in a domed effect.

That was something completely different from the Salon Sacher. From the family that has run the hotel for over 90 years, there was, through Alexandra Winkler, the wish to make the historicity tangible. At the same time, there were functional challenges: the first floor, which had been used as a conference room, needed to be rethought. And for Matthias Winkler, it was also important to resolve the business situation on the ground floor differently. How can a space be organized in a semi-self-service way while maintaining brand value? That was a delicate layout question – and essential to answer in such a way that the ground floor would never feel like a supermarket.

We looked at the ingredients that make up the Hotel Sacher. There is the black and white marble floor pattern, dark wood, a great deal of gold appearing as brass or gilding – and the red velvet. From these ingredients, we reassembled the Café Bel Étage. We emphasized the red velvet, saying: this is Sacher for us. This is the CI color. We then added elements that stylistically support the Viennese character, such as the crystal chandelier from Lobmeyr, which also has a historical link to the house.

Sacher was home to the first electrified Lobmeyr chandeliers, built in the then-new downward-facing design, as dripping candles were no longer needed. In the Café Bel Étage, the chandelier now connects not only past and present but also both floors. To guide guests upstairs, we broke a hole in the ceiling and created a link with a two-story crystal chandelier. Below it now stands the archetypal element of the Sachertorte: white marble. Bakers love it for its porous character and coolness as a work surface, so as a material it makes absolute sense in context.

The process was still completely different, much more inductive. Many pieces of furniture had to be designed, countless details had to be considered. We had to zoom in again and again, building the big picture step by step. Inductive work can be very demanding.

We produced endless images and held almost weekly workshops – around 40 in total. But that’s typical for us. We engage deeply with people, immersing ourselves with them in the process. This applies especially to clients and operators, but also to the craftsmen – the product is truly created together. That’s why we always maintain close, open exchange. Everyone brings their knowledge and skills to the table. From that emerges a synthesis.

Definitely. But in such a complex project, many things came together that required great precision and coordination. Still, I’ve rarely experienced a construction site where the craftsmen prepared the process so meticulously. Josef Göbel handled the 3D planning, which ran very precisely, with no surprises afterward. Parts of the interior made by Josef Göbel were even preassembled in the factory in Fladnitz. We visited it several times with the Winkler family to fine-tune the benches and chairs, to test sitting. To make sure seat heights and fabrics really worked.

We often work on projects in Italy, where there are many skilled craftsmen, but hardly any good carpenters. They’re excellent at industrial prefabrication, but the full breadth of craftsmanship is found only in Austria – and especially often in the south, including Styria.

Not in the visual sense. For us, it can be summed up in one word: empathy. That may sound like talent, but empathy is a lot of work. Making the effort to put yourself in someone else’s shoes. In our projects, it very often comes down to the “unknown third party". In museums, that’s the visitor. In retail, the buyer to whom something must be conveyed: content, goods. For that, I need to engage with people, to anticipate what they might want and expect. In hospitality, it’s even more specific, much more dialog-driven. Here, understanding matters most, because nowhere else does the “unknown third party” stay longer. Their sense of well-being is central. That is always our paradigm number one: well-being!

By repeating. But we repeat the process, not the outcome. The more I engage with a place, the closer I look and the more I listen to clients, the more I recognize the differences. With existing architecture, history also plays a role, which we’re always happy to embrace. In the end, a place must develop its own identity. That is a constant in our hospitality work: every place should evolve an identity of its own and feel comfortable in its own way.