In Profile:
Kart Group

In what direction do you feel that design is moving towards in a general sense?

I believe design is moving toward a quieter form of intelligence. It is no longer defined only by visual impact, but by how a space behaves, how it supports people, and how responsibly it responds to culture, climate, time, and resources. The most meaningful design today is not necessarily the loudest; it is the most considered. In our studio, every decision passes through layers of thought: concept, function, material logic, budget, programme, and execution. Beauty becomes powerful when it is supported by discipline.

Name five key themes to consider when approaching design in the future.
For me, the five key themes are cultural responsibility, adaptability, material intelligence, human wellbeing, and technological awareness. Cultural responsibility ensures that design does not become anonymous. Adaptability allows spaces to evolve with changing ways of living and working. Material intelligence helps us choose finishes not only for appearance, but for longevity, maintenance, and meaning. Human wellbeing reminds us that architecture must serve the senses. Technological awareness, including AI, should sharpen our thinking, not replace it; it should help us test, question, and refine ideas with greater precision.

If you could offer one piece of advice when it comes to designing, what would it be?
My advice would be to listen before drawing. Listen to the site, to the client, to the culture, to the constraints, and to the silent opportunities hidden within the brief. Many young designers rush toward form, but the strongest design often emerges from restraint and observation. In our studio, we begin by understanding what must not be compromised: movement, light, proportion, budget, time, and emotional experience. Creativity becomes stronger when it is guided by responsibility. A beautiful idea must also know how to be built.

How important are The International Design & Architecture Awards?

Awards such as The International Design & Architecture Awards are important because they create a moment of reflection for the industry. They allow projects to be seen beyond their immediate context and measured against a broader international conversation. For designers in the Middle East, this recognition is particularly meaningful because our region is producing work with strong cultural depth and global relevance. However, I believe awards should not be seen as an end goal. They are a platform, not a destination; the true achievement remains the integrity of the work itself.

What are your aims and goals for the next twelve months?

Over the next twelve months, my aim is to continue strengthening the studio’s design language while expanding the depth of our process. I want our projects to become even more precise in the way they connect concept, materiality, time, resources, and execution. This means investing in research, improving internal coordination, refining project timelines, and developing stronger relationships with makers, suppliers, and consultants. I am also interested in mentoring younger designers, encouraging them to think not only as creators of beautiful spaces, but as responsible cultural thinkers and disciplined professionals.

Your most treasured possession?

My most treasured possession is not a single object in the traditional sense, but the archive of memories, sketches, books, samples, and conversations that have shaped my understanding of design. These fragments carry the history of a practice. A small sketch can remind me of an idea that later became a building. A material sample can bring back the atmosphere of an entire project. I value objects that contain time. In architecture, memory is not sentimental; it is a tool that helps us design with greater depth and continuity.

Your favourite holiday destination?
My favourite destinations are places where culture is still felt in daily life: cities with layered histories, textured streets, courtyards, markets, old stone, changing light, and a rhythm that cannot be manufactured. I am drawn to places where architecture is not only visited, but lived. Morocco, for example, has this extraordinary ability to combine craft, silence, colour, and proportion in a way that feels deeply human. A holiday, for me, is most rewarding when it gives me distance from work but still nourishes my eye and imagination.

Your favourite hotel, restaurant & bar?

For a hotel, I would choose Jnane Rumi in the Palmeraie, Morocco; for a restaurant, Chic Nonna in DIFC; and for a bar, Zuma. I am most attracted to places that understand atmosphere rather than decoration. Every detail should feel natural: the lighting, chair height, sound, scent, service, wall texture, and the way people move through the space. I admire interiors that do not reveal all their beauty at once. A memorable hospitality space welcomes you immediately, but also rewards attention.

Your favourite book, film & song?

My favourite works across literature, cinema, and music are those that leave space for interpretation. I am drawn to books that explore identity, memory, and the relationship between people and place. In film, I admire the power of composition, silence, shadow, and pacing; cinema often teaches architects how to frame emotion. Music, similarly, reminds us that rhythm matters. Architecture also has rhythm: compression and release, pause and movement, silence and intensity. I rarely separate these disciplines. They all influence how I understand atmosphere, narrative, and human experience.

Your favourite food and drink?

I enjoy food that is honest, generous, and connected to place. There is something deeply architectural about a well-prepared meal: balance, proportion, temperature, texture, and sequence all matter. I appreciate Middle Eastern cuisine because it carries memory and hospitality in a very natural way. It is not only about taste, but about gathering. As for drink, I prefer something simple, perhaps Arabic coffee or tea, because it creates a pause. In our region, these small rituals are powerful; they remind us that design begins with human connection.

Your favourite way to spend an afternoon?
My favourite afternoon would be spent between observation and stillness. I enjoy walking through a city, visiting a gallery, sitting in a quiet café, or looking closely at materials, façades, shadows, and people. These moments may seem separate from work, but they are often where ideas begin. Architecture requires attention, and attention requires time away from constant production. An afternoon well spent is one that restores the senses. It allows the mind to become receptive again, which is essential for anyone working in a creative discipline.

If you weren’t in this sector, what would your alternative profession be?

If I were not an architect, I think I would still choose a profession connected to culture, storytelling, and making. Perhaps I would be a filmmaker, a writer, or a curator. All of these disciplines are concerned with how meaning is structured and how emotion is communicated. Architecture, at its best, is also a form of storytelling, but through space, light, material, and movement. I cannot imagine moving too far away from creativity. My interest has always been in shaping experiences that remain with people after they leave.