As Design Director of JIA Studios, Jackie’s path began not in a studio, but with a technical education in Marine Engineering.
Drawing on this foundation, he brings the world of precision and structure into harmony with creative expression, crafting spaces that are tactile, personal, and deeply meaningful. His work is guided by a core belief: design should be felt, not just seen.
Could you tell our readers about your firm?
JIA Studios is both a professional practice and a personal creative outlet. While we began as a formal design consultancy delivering residential, hospitality, and commercial projects, we have evolved it into something more intimate—almost like a design laboratory for ideas that are deeply human-centric.
To me, JIA Studios is where I can explore design freely, driven by emotion, storytelling, and the finer nuances of human experience. It keeps my creativity alive and evolving.
Could you share your journey into the world of interior design?
My journey into interior design was not conventional; it was shaped by curiosity, circumstance, and a constant desire to create.
I began with an education in Marine Engineering where I was trained to think in terms of systems, structure, and precision. While it was highly technical, it sparked my interest in how things are built and how different components come together to form a whole. That curiosity gradually evolved into an interest in spatial design and architecture. Eventually, I earned my interior design degree, and I began to merge technical thinking with creative expression.
Could you tell us about how the Gucci Osteria project began, and what was the biggest challenge?
The project was a careful balancing act, adapting a rich brand experience into the highly protected heritage setting of The Arts House, one of Singapore’s oldest surviving government buildings with a history spanning close to 200 years.
The biggest challenge lay in the building’s exceptionally stringent conservation guidelines. We were not allowed to drill or introduce nails, meaning every design gesture had to be completely non-invasive and fully reversible. As a result, the strategy shifted from conventional construction to a layered system of freestanding elements and modular panels. In many ways, these limitations became the driving force behind the project’s ingenuity, proving that even within strict boundaries, a bold and immersive environment can be brought to life.
Considering the scale and complexity of unifying four buildings for the Holland Grove project, what was the biggest surprise?
What surprised me most was not the scale, but how quickly fragmentation reveals itself when you try to force unity too early. The breakthrough was recognizing that true cohesion doesn’t come from erasing differences, but from orchestrating them. For example, we stopped fighting the existing columns and treated them as anchors that defined a new rhythm—a shift from control to calibration.
Going forward, this reinforces a more adaptive approach. I learned that cohesion is less about dominance and more about alignment, where design becomes a conversation rather than a declaration.
What are your main creative inspirations?
My inspiration comes from a spectrum of influences, from the works of Tadao Ando and Zaha Hadid to minimalist and reflective ideas in literature and philosophy. This guides me to design calm, intentional, and human-centred spaces where people can form their own emotional connection.
Ready to be the next Top 50 and stand out among SEA’s most notable designers?
