Grande Dame

Business Times - 01 Aug 2009

From humble beginnings as a teacher, Jennie Chua rose to become doyen of the hospitality industry, yet remains remarkably grounded. By Vikram Khanna

JENNIE Chua is, it seems, everywhere. She is concurrently president and CEO of the Ascott Group; Singapore's non-resident ambassador to the Slovak Republic; chairman of the Community Chest of Singapore, the Council for Tourism, Alexandra Hospital and the Singapore Film Commission; chairman of the Raffles Hotel, and deputy chairman of the Workforce Development Agency.

She is also a member of the Temasek Advisory Board of Temasek Holdings and of the Pro-Enterprise Panel. In all, she holds 21 directorships. On May 18, she became chairman of the Singapore International Chamber of Commerce, the first woman to hold the post in the chamber's 172 year history. And that's just a partial list.

64-year-old Ms Chua also likes to dance and do tai chi. Bubbling with energy and good humour, renowned for her vivid storytelling laced with sometimes startling candour, she is one of Singapore's great raconteurs, who could have made a career as a mistress of ceremonies - another role has she willingly and frequently played, and with aplomb.

As it turned out, Ms Chua spent most of her working life in the hospitality industry, rising, most famously, to become, as people said, the grande dame of the Raffles Hotel - general manager and CEO - from 1991 to 2007.

Ms Chua tells me about her life over tea and cakes, in one of the Ascott Group's well-appointed service apartment suites in Raffles Place.

Her beginnings were humble, as a junior teacher in St Margaret's secondary school in the 1960s.

'I had to leave university because my family was so poor that I had to go out and work,' she says. 'And the only job that was available to me was teaching. I would go to the teacher's training college at Patterson Hill in the mornings, Mondays Wednesdays and Fridays, and would teach in the afternoons.'

After marrying in 1968, she accompanied her husband Goh Kian Chee (the son of Singapore's then Finance Minister Goh Keng Swee) to Cornell University in the United States.

'I wanted to finish my tertiary education. So I got myself enrolled in Cornell's School of Hotel Administration.

'Why Hotel Administration? Cornell was very good for engineering, but I'm not right brained. It was also good for agriculture, but that had no application in Singapore. However it had a hotel school which was highly regarded.

'We're talking about 1968. Singapore was starting to build the Shangri-la Hotel and the Mandarin. So I knew I could find a job.'

Upon returning to Singapore in 1971, Ms Chua joined the Mandarin Hotel as a trainee. 'I was paid $650 a month, after hard bargaining,' she recalls. 'They wanted to pay me $400, but I said no. But $650 was big money then.'

After spending three years at the Mandarin, Ms Chua taught at the Asian Institute of Tourism in the Philippines for a year and then returned to spend the next 11 years with the Singapore Tourism Board as director of the newly-created Singapore Convention Bureau. When she started, Singapore was not a player in the convention business. But by the time she finished, it was among the world's top 10.

In the mid-1980s, Ms Chua decided to return to the private sector. Raffles City was completed and the Westin group, which managed the hotels there, invited Ms Chua to head up its sales and marketing, which she did for three years.

'And then, I crossed the road, literally,' she said. 'Why did Jennie cross the road? Because the Raffles Hotel was there.'

She was the first Singaporean general manager of the Raffles, subsequently becoming its CEO. (She was instrumental in starting the Raffles Conversation series - the idea of doing in-depth interviews with illustrious personalities at the Raffles; she hatched the idea back in 1992, together with the then-editor of The Business Times, Patrick Daniel.)

Hotelier of the Year

On her clock, the Raffles Hotel won accolade after accolade and came to be hailed as an icon of the industry. Ms Chua herself was named Hotelier of the Year in 1999, by TravelAsia magazine.

'Of course, I never kidded myself that it was true,' she says. 'It so happened that I was the general manager of the Raffles. People pay attention to the Raffles, and therefore, pay attention to you. If I had been the general manager of ABC Hotel with the same capabilities and even financial success, I would not have been voted the best hotelier, because people wouldn't even have known about me.

'So, famous hotels around the world - the Savoy in London, the Oriental in Bangkok or the Imperial in Tokyo - they make you, you don't make them.

'Yes, you have to be basically competent and have good support, and you have to know how to do marketing and all that. But it would be terrible hubris on my part if I were to say to myself: 'Wow, I'm really the best hotelier in the world'.'

'But hoteliers tend to be undervalued,' she continues. 'People look at a hotelier and say, oh, the guy looks quite nice. A number of times people would come up to me to sincerely pay me a compliment. They would say, 'Jennie, you're such a great general manager'. And then, they would add: 'your PR is so good' - as if that's all it takes.'

'People sometimes don't appreciate that it takes a bit more than good PR or standing in the lobby with a white carnation in your buttonhole. Managing a big hotel is like managing a little city. You need to understand the fundamentals of business - it doesn't just happen; there is a business model that you need to develop and to perpetuate. You need to have financial acumen. You also need to know a little about engineering - not that you need to fix the chiller when it breaks down, but you need to know how it works; you need to work with engineers and understand what they're saying. You definitely need to know about food and beverage, and about marketing.

'And Raffles Hotel had about 800 staff. Raffles City had 2,000 staff. So although of course you have professional help, you have to be a team builder. You have to make people function as a team, and on a daily basis, not occasionally. You've got to supervise people from different backgrounds, different education levels. And you have to be able to handle guests who come from all over the world.'

Moreover, as the hotel industry has evolved and gone more global, the profile of the typical general manager has changed, Ms Chua points out. '40 years ago, general managers were people who had risen from the ranks, mainly from the food and beverage side - that's why a lot of GMs are very good food and beverage people. Some also came from the sales and marketing side, because a room is not just a room, you have to know how to market it and you have to know about concepts - spas, shops and so on, so the marketing element is very important. Then a few years ago, you started to see more people who were financially savvy becoming GMs. Because the hotel business became more complex. An individual hotel can be a mom and pop business. But now we're talking about hotel companies spread across the world, brands, investment and divestment, private equity interests in hotels. So, now it's important at the top level to understand the financial side and the legal side.'

Despite being immersed in the high life for so much of her career, Ms Chua was mindful of remaining grounded. 'You have to keep your sense of balance, because the hotel world can be very artificial,' she explains. 'You are surrounded by chandeliers, crystal, starched napkins, Persian carpets, antiques. The guests come in usually well dressed. So you need to say to yourself, yes, this is where I work, and I enjoy my work. But when I go home to my 3-room apartment, and I eat off melamine plates maybe, and my husband is in a pair of shorts and my children are bawling - that is my real world. You have to be able to adjust and calibrate your life. Otherwise you lose your sense of reality. It is a challenge. And I can say that marriages in the hotel industry have this burden. But people who join the industry now are more aware of these dangers, and more prepared for them.'

In August 2007, Ms Chua went back to CapitaLand, the former parent company of the Raffles Hotel (which was sold to the private equity firm Colony Capital in 2005). She took charge of its subsidiary the Ascott group and as from Aug 1, she became CapitaLand's chief corporate officer.

I ask Ms Chua how she manages to juggle her 21 directorships and other appointments with her regular job - not to mention her chairmanship of the SICC.

She makes it sound easy: 'Those (directorships) are not really jobs, they are board responsibilities,' she says. 'And I'm fortunate that the professionals who run those organisations are very good. There isn't any organisation which I have to revamp. Another thing is, I don't accept a board position or a chairmanship if I don't think I'm going to enjoy it.

'And I do have time. I'm divorced, so don't have a husband and don't need to spend time mollycoddling him; I have a companion, but he mollycoddles me! I don't play golf, which can take up two afternoons a week. My children are grown, and as for grandchildren, well, you play with them, and when you're tired you say, now please go home.'

'On the whole, I have to say I've had a wonderful life,' says Ms Chua.

'Maybe I was born optimistic. When the glass is half full, I see it as three quarters full. Yet, I think I'm practical, I know what's real, and I don't dwell on regrets. I want to move on, and I feel that when I move on, things will be alright.'

'I've had many challenges, both career-wise and personal. But I don't have sleepless nights. Sometimes at 11pm, I know I have a problem to deal with, but I don't dwell on it. I can go to sleep.

'Like last night, at 10.30,' she jokes, 'I was wondering what I should say to you in this interview, but then I fell asleep.'

A life well scripted

Business Times - 25 Jul 2009

Make your mark, and pay it forward. Those are the words that David Puttnam lives by. The film maker, educationist, and active citizen tells why he so fervently believes in making the world a better place. By Jaime Ee

DAVID Puttnam: The Movie is not likely to be playing at a cinema near you anytime soon. Which is a pity, given the illustrious - or perhaps he might prefer 'useful' - life of the Oscar-winning film producer who built his career making movies about men, well, just like him.

That's not an egoistic statement. Ego isn't something you associate with Sir or Lord Puttnam - take your pick, he's both - who has more titles than a boy scout has badges but still shows up at The China Club for yet another press interview with as much grace and enthusiasm as if it were his first.

Whether he planned it or not, his life would make a perfect screenplay - a man who wants to make a difference in the world and isn't afraid to fight for what he thinks is right even if his detractors think he's an overzealous idealist and try not to sit beside him at dinner parties.

His is the kind of character you see in most of his movies - the one who believes in the power of the human spirit, dogged in his pursuit of justice, unwavering (or blindly stubborn) in the face of insurmountable hurdles. Cue Chariots of Fire - men in baggy shorts in a race for integrity and honour; The Killing Fields - the triumph of friendship between two men despite the atrocities of war; Memphis Belle - a group of fighter pilots who need each other to carry out a life-or-death mission ... it goes on.

That's why he does what he does - since he left the film industry in 1997, he's been a major player in the environmental movement, worked as an adviser to the Department of Education to overhaul the UK's teaching system, champions children's rights as president of Unicef UK, advises the Labour government as a peer in the British House of Lords, and even acts as a consultant to Singapore's Media Development Authority while lending his name to the LaSalle-SIA College of the Arts' Puttnam School of Film.

Why? Because of something his father told him when he was seven years old during a walk in the park.

'My father was very special because he had been away fighting in the war and I didn't meet him until I was five years old,' he explains. 'It's quite strange, meeting your father for the first time. But I became besotted with him. We were in the park and we came to this tree which had someone's initials carved in it. I asked my father what it was and he said, 'For people, it's very important to make their mark to prove that they've been in the world, to just literally say, I was here.' '

And so he did, whether it was winning Best Picture Oscar for Chariots or working tirelessly since 1982 to make the term 'corporate social responsibility' a buzz word.

But a good part of making your mark on the world is also about protecting it, and it's something Lord Puttnam is seriously worried about. He tosses up an old Greek nugget - he is, after all, a natural storyteller - about the glory days of Athens when every 12-year-old boy had to swear an oath to leave his city 'better, more beautiful and more prosperous' than he found it.

'I'm very involved in the issues of global warming and climate change because I'm very fearful of what my grandchildren are going to encounter. I think it is hugely incumbent on my generation to set things up as best we can to make sure that their lives, which may not be as full as ours - my grandchildren will not live lives like I've lived, they will lead much more constrained lives - are as okay as possible for them.

'I'm a member of a generation with massive responsibilities because I'm the generation that's caused most of these problems.'

You say 'idealist', he says 'you're too busy making money and you can't be bothered about such things'. From experience, 'most people who say 'oh you're slightly idealistic' are actually saying, 'I am not prepared to get as involved in the issues of the world as you are'.'

Idealism, though, has a habit of going out of style.

He already had an inkling of it in the '90s as he saw the film industry moving away from the strong narratives he was used to making to 'product-oriented' blockbusters or exploitation films. A strong advocate against violence in movies, he says: 'My idea of making a movie is very simple: human beings are capable of remarkable things, and the more you remind them of it, the more likely they will be so. On the other hand, human beings are also capable of being sadistic and unpleasant and doing dreadful things. The more you desensitise them to the dreadful things they do, the more those things seem to be acceptable.

'I've had a very rewarding career because I've sat in cinemas watching people watching Chariots of Fire and I know they feel better about themselves. Watching them watch The Killing Fields, I know they know more about the world. Why wouldn't you want to do that? Why would you be so stupid as to want to exploit people's fears and hatreds?'

For a few hundred million bucks more at the box office, that's why. Which was why he knew that it was time to go.

'I'm 68 years old, filmmaking is a young person's game,' he says. But more so, 'I made a decision that I was not going to grow old in the film industry. I saw what it did to people, I saw it wasn't an industry that respected old age very well, I didn't want to be shuffling up and down Wardour Street with an old script under my arm, hoping someone would want it. I decided I would be out of there in my 50s.'

It was almost prescient, the way he made his exit. It took just one phone call. It was 1997, just after the elections when the Labour Party veteran received a call from an aide of then Prime Minister Tony Blair to ask him to be a peer in the House of Lords. 'I said you're too late, I've just joined the Department of Education, and he said, 'Don't worry, we'll work around that'. So in one day, I left the film industry, joined the education department and became a peer.'

Given his vast experience in politics, he says the recent parliamentary expenses scandal involving MPs was an accident waiting to happen. 'I chaired a committee doing a report for parliament in 2005 and I predicted exactly what was going to happen, and ironically the very person who killed the report has now had to step down (Michael Martin, speaker of the House of Commons).'

It's this reason why he's full of praise for the Singapore government's policy of paying MPs and ministers well from the very beginning. 'It's the same reason UK judges are paid well so that they will not be corrupt. It's a well paid job, you have no excuse to take money. But, they didn't make the same decision about MPs. What they did was pay MPs badly but gave them ridiculous opportunities to fill their coffers in other ways. If they were paid properly this would never have happened. It's the system that created the problem.

'Say you're an MP and you have lifestyle requirements like private school for your kids. How do you pay for it? You hire your wife to be your secretary - it's wrong but it's a way of drawing more money into the family so maybe it's the wife's salary that pays the school fees. So you're immediately on a cycle of not massive corruption but ways of compensating for the fact that you are paid badly.'

Expounding further on the topic of pay for politicians, he says: 'The question of political courage requires that you tell the public, you may not like this but we're going to have fewer, but better paid MPs. They've known for years that there are too many MPs - what they should have done years ago is to (limit to) 500 MPs and give them proper support. As I said in my report, good democracies are expensive - a cut-price democracy is a charge on the electorate, whereas a well-paid executive is an investment, not a cost.'

But no, he rules out any possibility of him becoming a minister and trying to change the system. 'Interestingly enough, when I got into the House of Lords, the assumption was that over a period of time I would become a minister. But I realised quite quickly that that was a really shitty job. I had a great job at the education department, I was a special adviser to the Labour government and I had a lot more freedom than a minister could ever have.'

Reaching out

And, with his closetful of titles, he has the kind of clout that he needs to push his own make-the-world-a-better-place agenda. 'Titles don't interest me very much - but they're like brands that can help. For example, as president of Unicef, I can talk to our Secretary of State for Overseas Development. In a sense he has to see me - if I was David Puttnam he would say, 'I'll see you next year.'

' As Chancellor of the Open University, the Secretary of State of Education has to see me. As for being a peer, if I write a letter to the minister he has to answer within seven days, that's the law. If I was Sir David Puttnam, I could have written and he doesn't have to reply at all.'

His concerns for today's youth are what drive him to constantly reach out to them, to turn them into responsible citizens. Despite being 'cynical enough to know you can't change people,' he was heartened by a letter he received recently from a York University student who was inspired to start a non-partisan political association after Lord Puttnam gave a talk four years ago about active citizenry at a school where he was a sixth form student.

'He invited me to speak to his association so since I happened to be speaking at York, I said OK. I expected to be speaking to 12 students but 300 showed up. We had a great time talking about climate change, responsibility of young people and so on. But the point was that, as a result of talking to a sixth form class in Bristol - four years later I'm talking to 300 kids at York who in turn are the core of a student movement involved in citizenship programmes.

'So if each time I speak, keep pushing out the message, maybe two or three people will listen and then they talk to other people. Then you wake up one day and there are 1,000 people out there who think, say, 'I don't want to be an exploitation filmmaker - I know I can make a living that way but I want my films to mean something'.' And in turn, want their lives to mean something. That, says Lord Puttnam, 'is the only role I've got left'.

He isn't too bothered about growing old, although he does concede that travelling does get harder these days. 'My friend Lord (David) Attenborough who's not well at the moment, we had dinner just before Christmas and he arrived, quite tired and he said to me, 'Putters' - he calls me Putters - 'don't grow old, dear, it's shit'. I said 'well, hang on, the alternative doesn't sound very attractive'.'

These days, he tries to spend more time at his seaside home in Baltimore, Ireland, where he and his wife Patricia and their children have lived for the past 20 years. On what was originally a farm, the avid gardener planted 8,000 trees which have since grown into a complete wood. He's looking to spend more time there and is checking out the latest video conferencing equipment that will let him give lectures interactively while 'reducing my carbon footprint'.

He says the most important lesson he's learned about life comes from his father. 'Towards the end of his life he said, 'If I drop dead tomorrow, I've no regrets - I've had a really great life. And don't you or your sister ever have any sadness, have a great life.'

'I feel the same way. In the last years or months or even minutes of my life, I want to feel OK about myself and my relationship to the world. And I do.'

The entrepreneurial spirit

Business Times - 11 Jul 2009

IF Singaporeans today lack the entrepreneurial spirit, it could be because the motivational factors have changed.

'It was ambition that made me want to start a business but it is not the same kind of ambition that people have today,' says fashion retail pioneer Frank Benjamin, 74.

'I think entrepreneurs are those who have ambition but it is impossible to do today what I did in my time. Today, if you want to go into business, you have to have an idea or concept of what you want to do. And then it has to be supported by funds.'

Mr Benjamin may have some trouble articulating what exactly it was that motivated him to start a business in 1959, but you get the feeling it was not just money. 'In my time, even if you have no money, you were working. Whatever you made, you made and you sort of progressed. Today, you don't have the same criteria,' he tries to explain.

Growing up in a household of eight in 'dire circumstances' might have had something to do with it though.

After the second world war, Mr Benjamin's father who had a textile business lost everything and had to start from scratch. 'We did not have the usual comforts but it was a happy time because when you have nothing, you don't think of anything.'

After he got his Senior Cambridge Certificate from St Andrew's School, he did not think of furthering his studies. 'In those days you never think of going to university. You went out to work to get food for the home,' he said.

If it is survival instincts that makes a great entrepreneur one has to wonder about the resilience of companies that get handed down to the next generation. It is something that Mr Benjamin - who has three sons who have not had to fight to survive the way he did - has had to consider himself.

Mr Benjamin's oldest son is Douglas. 'I told him not to feel obliged to join his father's company. He has an economics degree, so I told him to please get a job in bank or some financial institution,' he recalls.

Douglas, however, said he had always known he would join FJ Benjamin so Mr Benjamin relented: 'I said ok, you work in warehouse, work in the shops, get your experience from the ground up. I didn't want to be in charge of him. I didn't want the others to think my children have a special place because of their father. So they all grew up with that kind of discipline, knowing there would be no free rides.'

Today, Douglas, 44, is chief executive of FJ Benjamin Singapore, while Sam, 37, is group director of timepieces, and Ben, 31, is a regional brand manager.

So, will there always be a Benjamin at the helm?

'One thinks of one's legacy but it is not in one's hands. You take it as far as you can go. I think we already have some sort of legacy built over the years. If this can continue in the same spirit in the same way, even from up there I would be very happy.'

Made in Singapore

Business Times - 11 Jul 2009

Cold calls, hard work and steely persistence turned a plucky entrepreneur into Singapore's own fashion retail maestro. Frank Benjamin shares his story. By Arthur Sim

IT is not often one comes face to face with history. But in Frank Benjamin, one gets quite close to the authentic experience of what it was like to be a young businessman in Singapore at a time when a new car might cost as little as $5,000 and locals were barred from European clubs.

The start of Mr Benjamin's success story starts sometime after the second world war when talk of independence from British rule started to gain momentum. 'I really wanted independence because I felt we were treated like second class citizens,' he remembers.

His first spark of initiative came after graduating from St Andrew's School in the early 1950s. Together with friends, he started a social club for members of the Jewish community - then still about 1,000 strong - and charged $1 a month subscription. David Marshall, Singapore's first prime minister was the club's honorary legal advisor.

But opportunities for a young man armed with just a Senior Cambridge Certificate were otherwise quite limited. Most went on to become teachers or clerks. Mr Benjamin joined his uncle's optometrist shop for a short stint before working for the American trading company, Getz Bros.

Although he did well as a salesman at Getz, he left after about two years. 'I decided I wanted to do my own thing,' he said.

Like many others in his day, Mr Benjamin got involved with the struggle for independence, even helping David Marshall to campaign at one point. However, it was on quite a different front that he eventually won.

'I could see that during that time, all the European and Englishmen in big companies had their own people set up. It meant that we were excluded,' he says.

So rather than work for one of the 'colonial setups', he decided he would set up his own company, registering a sole proprietorship, F J Benjamin, in 1959 at the age of 24.

Like many entrepreneurs of that era, he did not really have a business plan though. 'What I did was the only thing I could. This was to write to principals (of companies) and tell them I am an agent in Singapore - and you know, in those days nobody checked.' He would then get samples from these principals sent to him and he would get orders from retailers. In return, he earned a commission.

The ensuing decade saw him hawking anything - paper and pulp, cameras, pots and pans, anything.

It was not always easy going. Occasionally he would need to borrow money just to pay the rent. But having established his independence, with the help of his teacher-wife Mavis (who was also the bread winner for many years), he was not going to let it go.

But it was when he started to focus on fashion that things began to happen. Interestingly, Mr Benjamin is not particularly inclined towards fashion himself. Stopping short of 'always going out in a tie' and being 'clean', fashion was just another product, like the tetra packs of milk that he brought in to sell.

So when an Amco jeans representative from Australia came to his office in 1969 with samples of 'fashion jeans', Mr Benjamin was not interested. For starters, Levi's, Lee and Wrangler brands were already available in Singapore. Indeed, it was only as an afterthought - feeling he had been too brusque with the representative - that he agreed to distribute Amco in South-east Asia. It must pay to be nice because Amco became a huge hit for FJ Benjamin with a turnover of about $100,000 every quarter.

Emboldened, he began to look for more fashion brands the only way he knew how - cold calls.

Spotting a nice tie on one of his brothers, he turned it over and got the address off the label. Later, he called the head office in Switzerland. And by being at the right place at the right time, this led to FJ Benjamin opening the Lanvin boutique at the Hyatt hotel in Scotts Road in 1975, possibly the first luxury fashion boutique in Singapore.

Lanvin did well and Mr Benjamin realised that Asians were developing a taste for high fashion. He wanted another brand and set his sights on Gucci.

'Gucci was really big in those days. I wrote to them, but they said 'No'. I kept on writing for three years,' Mr Benjamin recalls of his persistence.

'Then one day, I saw a neon sign in Chinatown that read 'Gucci selling here',' he says. In reality, the shop probably just had one or two Gucci products that it had brought in on its own and were just trying to milk the brand. So Mr Benjamin took some photos of the sign, and sent them t to Gucci. 'I said if you don't start a shop in Singapore, your brand will be vulgarised.'

Almost immediately, Gucci sent one of its directors to Singapore to see how fast FJ Benjamin could open a shop.

Other brands like Hungtingworld, Coach, and Fendi followed.

Then in 1991, Mr Benjamin's brother Nash, who joined the company in 1966 at a starting salary of $150 a month, discovered Guess jeans.

Again, Mr Benjamin was not very keen. By this time, FJ Benjamin had given up Amco after a failed partnership. Jordache, another jeans brand it brought in, failed too. But Nash Benjamin had come back from Los Angeles raving about Guess and Mr Benjamin did not have the heart to say no. He told his younger brother: 'Nash - small shop, try. If no good, we close. If good, we keep.' When Guess opened in a small 600 sq ft outlet at Wisma Atria, shoppers actually queued to get in.

By the early 1990s FJ Benjamin was growing by 20-25 per cent per year. It was expanding all over Asia. 'We felt at the time we needed to have funding so we decided to go public,' adds Mr Benjamin.

FJ Benjamin was publicly listed in 1996 - just months before the Asian financial crisis.

Beset by its first major crisis, Mr Benjamin remembers the recession years as being 'the perfect storm for us'.

'It was not just the recession, it was also the currency devaluation in all the markets we were in. In between, the Gucci and Fendi brands were bought over by big conglomerates who wanted to do their own business. Everything happened at the same time.'

Post-1997 was a period of consolidation for FJ Benjamin with a failed attempt to merge with Royal Sporting House. A capital injection from investor Peter Lim saw the company through the recession.

It must have also seemed like bitter irony at the time that it was an act of corporate imperialism that struck such a blow to the company. 'After the recession, we told ourselves to develop other business,' Mr Benjamin said.

Apart from moving into lifestyle brands like Gap and Banana Republic, FJ Benjamin created its own in-house brand - Raoul. 'There is always a risk that principals will decide to do their own business, so we decided to develop our own brands,' he explained.

The fortunes of FJ Benjamin have risen and fallen with the times. It still has Guess, Celine, Gap and Banana Republic. Gap was another brand that FJ Benjamin had always had its eye on. Yet, Mr Benjamin concedes that sales, 'could be better'.

It is hard to say how well Raoul will do too. Plans to expand in the US were scuttled by the current global recession. And in the fashion world today, as Mr Benjamin knows, there is no shortage of brands.

But while brands come and go, FJ Benjamin has become that very special thing - a bona fide Singapore heritage brand. And one gets the feeling that as long as Frank Benjamin is around, the company will keep on making history.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

FRANK J BENJAMIN

Executive chairman, FJ Benjamin

• 1934 Born in Singapore
• Education: St Andrews School, Senior Cambridge certificate
• 1959 Incorporated FJ Benjamin
• 1975 Opened Lanvin at the Grand Hyatt
• 1979 Franchise partner of Gucci
• 1992 Franchise partner of Guess?
• 1996 Public listing of FJ Benjamin Holdings Ltd on Singapore Exchange
• 1996 Frank Benjamin awarded Tourism Entrepreneur of the Year by the Singapore Tourism Board
• 1996 FJ Benjamin Holdings Ltd awarded Business Times Enterprise Award
• 1999 Franchise partner of Manchester United. Theater of Dreams opens in Singapore
• 2002 Raoul launched in Singapore
• 2002 FJ Benjamin is recognised by KPMG and Oxford University as the top Singapore retailer for brand value creation
• 2005 FJ Benjamin conferred "Heritage Brand" at the Singapore Brand Awards
• 2006 Gap in Singapore, Malaysia and Indonesia - first Gap franchise partner in the World, first stores in Asia (outside Japan)
• 2009 FJ Benjamin celebrates 50th anniversary

In the spirit of ecstasy

Business Times - 27 Jun 2009

Through world wars and global recession, Rolls-Royce holds its head high as the standard bearer of ultimate luxury. By Ven Sreenivasan

YOU can get there in any car. But you only truly arrive in a Rolls-Royce.' Tom Purves' passion is obvious. The 60 year-old CEO of Roll-Royce Motor Cars is proud to be the number one salesman of the century-old British carmaker which sets the standards for luxury and style in the industry. And justifiably so.

In the 105 years since Sir Henry Rolls created his masterpiece 10hp, two-seater in 1904, Roll-Royce cars have never failed to hold in awe anyone who loves the internal combustion engine. The car whose hood sports the Spirit of Ecstasy - the statue of a woman leaning forwards with her arms outstretched behind and above her - has survived and thrived through two world wars, dozens of recessions, energy crises, and yet continues to see steady demand from the well-heeled of the world.

'Many manufacturers make good cars,' says Mr Purves. 'But there are not many cars that stand for celebration of occasions. There are not so many cars that stand for arriving and departing in style. That's what separates us from the rest.'

Yet, the maker of the world's most acclaimed luxury car is a very different animal now compared to what it used to be.

Today, Rolls-Royce Motor Cars is owned by Germany's BMW group, after previous owners Vickers decided to sell the carmaker in 1998. Following a two year tussle between Volkwagen and BMW for ownership, Roll-Royce ended up in BMW Group's stable, while sister brand, Bentley went to VW. The Rolls-Royce's Corniche ceased production in 2002, with the new Phantom emerging as the first new model following the restructuring.

Though Roll-Royce Motor Cars Ltd is now a BMW Group subsidiary, Mr Purves insists it remains true to its British traditions, with no dilution in exclusivity and its home in Goodwood Estate, West Sussex.

'We have a team of engineers who work both in the UK and in Germany, exclusively dedicated to Rolls-Royce, tough within the BMW world. They have access to the technology of BMW, their physical assets, the wind tunnels and so forth. But they are not working on anything else other than on Rolls-Royce.'

The soon-to-be launched 200EX - which many dub the 'mini-Rolls' - will epitomise the marriage of BMW technology with the Rolls-Royce spirit.

The car - first unveiled at the Geneva Motor Show in March, and now named the Rolls-Royce Ghost - is sized between the traditional Phantom and the BMW 7 series. It is engineered to be more involving and dynamic for owners who want to drive it themselves. It has 80 per cent of its parts unique to itself, and an engine unique to Rolls-Royce.

He sees technology sharing as a natural progression. 'The industry is building more cars than it did 20 years ago, and parts, components and factories are all over the world. I don't know a car, a West European car, which is made in a single country. They bring the parts from France, Germany, Britain and Italy. The aluminium that goes into Rolls-Royce is extruded in Denmark, welded in Germany and finally assembled here in England. From the 1960s onwards, there has always been an American gearbox in a Rolls-Royce. So there have always been components in our cars which are international. Our customers are looking for the best, and they don't strongly have an opinion on where that should come from, so long as the car retains its distinct Englishness.'

Heritage plays a large part of a brand's impression in the mind of the buyer.

'From our very early days, Rolls-Royce has stood as a symbol of success. It is a celebration, if you will. I notice people smile when they get into a Rolls-Royce, as if they are enjoying their success. When you drive a Rolls-Royce, you stop for the pedestrians at a pedestrian crossing, where maybe you wouldn't have done in another car. One of our customers, and he wouldn't mind us mentioning his name, Rowan Atkinson, you know Mr Bean, has a Rolls-Royce Phantom. He is a car fan. When asked about his Phantom, he said: 'The thing I like most about it is I can take it on long journeys. When I drive it, everything about it seems right. It gives me the pleasure to shut the door. It gives me pleasure to start the engine. It gives me pleasure to start the gears and it was a pleasure to proceed. And I feel like after I've driven a whole day long, I can continue to drive some more...'

'In the Phantom, we have the largest tires on any passenger cars, and that was done deliberately. The quietness is critically important. You shouldn't hear the engine. It should be a whoosh, rather than an exhaust noise. It was once described to me by Rolls-Royce engineers being everything needs to be like a ball of silk, everything needs to work. Even the simple electrical switches on the electrical dashboard, they need to feel like jewellery when you turn them. And that is what we believe in. That is what we have done with the Phantom, that is what we're doing with the 200EX car. I think that iconic appearance, together with advanced technology that we have access to, are two tremendously important pillars of our success. If we were to stray from that, we would have substantial difficulty.'

Uncompromising position


But in an age of rapid technological advancements, how long can a Rolls-Royce car still stand apart and distinct from other great brands?

'There are Ferraris, Lamborghinis, Maseratis, Aston Martins which are sports cars that epitomise performance. A top-end BMW is a very exciting driver's car. Rolls customers come from all ages, backgrounds and businesses. But the one thing they have in common is their desire to have the finest, and the means to acquire it. That is a position which is not really challenged. It is a non-sporting and uncompromising position. It's about a desire and appreciation of refinement and luxury.'

So how is a Rolls-Royce different from a top-end BMW?

'The ride quality of a BMW could be somewhat harsher, the noise level will be somewhat higher. The whole feeling of the BMW will be one of 'where is the next corner?'. In a Rolls-Royce, you will have all that I mentioned before but the whole feeling of the car wouldn't be where is the next corner but that another hundred miles is no problem. The car is absolutely effortless. When you arrive in a BMW, you arrive in a BMW. When you arrive in a Rolls-Royce, you've arrived. And our doors are made deliberately, so you can exit the car with great elegance. The doors on a BMW are designed to be efficient, to do the job of a car door, only better than most other cars.

'There are several small things, that are not very important as far a car is concerned, the mascots on the bonnet - Spirit of Ecstasy - automatically rises and lowers. The Rolls-Royce emblem on the wheels stay vertical when the wheels go round. Every Rolls-Royce has umbrellas fitted into the doors. By the way, you can put them back into their containers soaking wet because they are made from special materials that would dry without even becoming mildew. Things like that, that actually make a difference, people remember it, and people relate to it.'

'So I would say, our approach to building the ultimate car is to produce effortless, silent, silky performance. BMW's is to build a high quality performance car for the family.'

That has not stopped Rolls-Royce from incorporating the latest most exciting motoring technology. 'The Rolls-Royce Phantom uses aluminium spaceframe that are welded together, installed by hand,' Mr Purves reveals. 'It is an interesting point: different materials, same painstaking process. The attention to detail in engine assembly is very similar, but the technology of the engine is hugely different, and the materials used are hugely different. The woodwork interior, for example, is very much the same as it was except that in the old days it would have been built up on a wooden back-frame. Today it would be built up an aluminium back-frame for two reasons - its lightness and safety.

'If we took an engineer from the 1920s into our plant today, there are many things he would recognise in today's Rolls-Royce. A lot has changed but not the process and attention to detail. And we still have the best engine technology in the world, with the Phantom 20 per cent more CO2 efficient than its nearest competitor.'

All things considered, Rolls-Royce had a successful 2008. Sales grew 20 per cent from 2007 to its 5th record year for the Phantom, which was launched in 2003. Mr Purves says every market region around the world contributed strongly to sales.

'We were about 6 per cent ahead of last year at the same time in February, and I expect us to be at level last year at the end of the first quarter. But our forward is not as strong as it was, given the economic situation. If I hit last year's sales numbers in 2009, I would consider that success. Last year we made 1,200 cars. With the new car, we should hit 2,000 or 3,000 cars a year, which would be our best'

Still, sales has been flattening out because of cutbacks in conspicious consumption.

'Certainly, circumstances have changed from a year ago,' Mr Purves explains. 'We have had customers who have asked us to sell their cars to somebody else, while maintaining their deposit for a purchase in a year's time, and this we are more than willing to do because we have long term relationships with our customers. It's quite clear that there is a reticence amongst some of our customers to display great opulence. Our cars are somewhat like a wardrobe. Our customers probably have a number of cars. Nobody only owns a Rolls-Royce. They probably also have a Range Rover, a sports car, and a BMW, of course. They'd bring their Rolls-Royce out on special occasions and holidays.'

He likens his salesmen to private bankers, who build long term relationships with customers, rather than just go for a sale. So despite the current slowdown, potential buyers will one day still come back to purchase their car.

'I wouldn't for one moment suggest that this current atmosphere is the best for our business. When we talk about our customers, we are talking about really, really very wealthy people, who even if they may lose one third of their portfolio - as many of them would have - will still remain extremely rich and extremely well-off. And the desire to own this car remains undiminished.'

Then he adds: 'In 1978, when I was in the office in Kuwait, we took the demonstration Silver Shadow out, and I remember stopping out there in the middle of a desert, at a gas station. A little boy came out, looked at the car and pointed at me, and said 'Lolls-Loyce'. At that moment you realise how strong your brand really is. A Rolls-Royce is more precious than rubies in the desert. And it's known everywhere in the world.'

'There are many luxury car makers, and they all have a role to play. But there is only one Rolls-Royce.'

Drinking to good times and bad

Business Times - 06 Jun 2009

How is Asia Pacific Breweries' new chief executive coping with his move and the downturn? Roland Pirmez shares his views. By Emilyn Yap

ROLAND Pirmez can brew his own beer - he even has a master's degree in brewing to show for it. But these days, the chief executive of Asia Pacific Breweries (APB) barely has time for this pursuit. 'Don't spend time, just drink Tiger,' he says.

It is not surprising to hear Mr Pirmez cite Tiger - APB's flagship brew - as his favourite beer as well. The former head of Heineken Russia officially became APB's CEO in October last year. He took over from Koh Poh Tiong, who led APB for 15 years before moving on to helm the food and beverage division at parent company Fraser and Neave (F&N).

Growing up in Belgium has certainly helped Mr Pirmez cultivate a taste for all beers. From white, red, golden to lambic beers, over 450 varieties are available in the country. It is usual to drink beer even as an aperitif, he says. 'I'm a lucky guy. I'm producing a product in line with my culture and I enjoy it.'

But it is with a cup of espresso that Mr Pirmez settles down for the interview in his office at Alexandra Point. Alcohol may be his passion but he still needs caffeine at work. 'I need many espressos. It is well-known in the company that before meetings, I need my espresso or the meetings won't be nice,' he says with a smile.

Mild jokes aside, Mr Pirmez is serious when it comes to business. He joined APB just as one of the most severe economic downturns in Singapore's history was - and still is - unfolding.

So far, the company has held up well, living up to the notion that F&B businesses tend to be recession-resilient. For the second quarter ended March 31, 2009, APB even grew its net profit by 5.8 per cent from a year ago to $46.2 million. Its contribution to F&N is particularly important when the recession has weakened the conglomerate's property arm.

Mr Pirmez acknowledges that the beer industry is not as appealing during boom times. 'People are not drinking more beer. They are buying more cars, more TVs, holidays,' he says. 'But it's clear that when you have a recession, the beer industry is less affected than many other sectors. We start being a little bit more sexy.'

Nevertheless, APB is not completely immune to the downturn. The product of a long-time partnership between F&N and Heineken, APB has brewery operations across 12 Asia-Pacific countries and offers over 40 brands of beer in these markets. From Singapore to Mongolia, from India to New Zealand, the impact of the economic slowdown has been different.

'Globally, people are trending down,' Mr Pirmez observes. What this means is that consumers are switching from high-priced spirits to premium beers; from premium beers to mainstream beers; and from mainstream beers to economy brands. 'In terms of volume, we are less affected,' he says. 'But in terms of value, we are a bit affected.'

New Zealand was one of APB's weakest markets in Q2 2009. Falling consumption, coupled with stiff competition, higher packaging material costs and the falling New Zealand dollar drove profit before interest, taxation and exceptionals down by 78 per cent.

'A recession is not easy. You have to keep margins to continue investing in your brands, to manage cash flow better,' Mr Pirmez says. 'The good news for APB is that this is not the first time it is going through a recession. The management team has been through two or three crises. They have some experience, though it is never easy.'

Apart from the downturn, something else could be keeping Mr Pirmez up at night. 'You know the Blackberry - you can send emails at midnight and you have to answer emails three minutes after midnight. I tried to avoid it,' he says, but global connectivity has clearly won this fight. 'I have my Blackberry - somewhere.'

According to Mr Pirmez, the fast work culture here is one of the few differences between working in APB and Heineken. APB is also smaller, but it has the same professionalism and high standards for its brands, he adds.

So having worked in both Heineken and APB, how does he view the relationship between both companies, and between Heineken and APB's parent F&N? Are market rumours true, that Heineken has been frustrated with a 1931 agreement that allows it to set up breweries in Asia only through APB? Tension was particularly high in 2006, when Heineken went to court against F&N and APB over the right to appoint the chief executive for APB's China operations. The incident even sparked speculation that Heineken might take over APB or F&N.

Mr Pirmez is keen to first keep APB out of the picture. 'There is no relationship between Heineken and APB. APB has two major shareholders, Heineken and F&N. It's a relationship between two shareholders - Heineken and F&N.'

He then downplays talk of hostility among the various parties. 'It is a very, very old joint venture of 78 years,' he says of the agreement, proceeding to draw a sine curve in the air. 'Can you imagine a couple of 78 years, sometimes there are ups and downs.

'If I remember, two or three years ago, there was some tension between Heineken and F&N, but it has passed. The past is the past. Today there is no tension, there is a good relationship between the two shareholders.'

The former Heineken executive is no stranger to APB. Before his six-year stint in Heineken Russia, he was general manager at Thai Asia Pacific Brewery for four years. He believes APB hired him partly because of that experience.

'I had a lot of contact with Singapore, I had the opportunity to know the competitors, the management team. When I came back here it was not a new adventure,' he says.

Mr Pirmez's life does read like one big adventure so far. He has spent more than 20 years working in the beer industries of Africa, Thailand, Russia and now Singapore. His first overseas stint with a Belgium group Unibra in the Democratic Republic of the Congo (formerly known as Zaire) even coincided with the outbreak of civil wars.

'Somebody tried to kill me and my family - they didn't succeed,' he deadpans. He was married with three children when the conflicts occurred, and he now has five. 'I won't say it was a good experience but it was a learning experience. After this kind of experience, you look differently at your life. There is more sense of your priorities.'

But somehow, fleeing the region was not on top of Mr Pirmez's mind. In fact, he moved on to Angola to join Unibra's competitor Heineken as managing director. 'I don't know why,' he says of his decision then. 'Everybody who has worked in Africa loves Africa... It's amazing. The people talking badly about Africa, they've never worked in Africa.'

Mr Pirmez has come a long way for someone who grew up in a small quiet village. Surrounded by forests, it was almost 'natural' for him to develop an interest in agriculture, particularly in beer brewing, he says.

No more bad brews?

So what makes a good beer? 'Today, because of the sophistication of technology, because of the sustainable quality of the raw materials, you don't have bad quality beer. It does not exist anymore.

'What makes the difference between a good beer and a great beer is the patience that you put in. And I don't think that there are bad beers but there are different beers. That depends on the culture, the market, and many things.' Western markets in general have a larger variety of beers packaged innovatively, Mr Pirmez says. 'In Western Europe, beer is more for your own consumption - you enjoy your beer alone watching TV, so there is more choice in taste and packaging. That is the main difference.'

In Asia, however, it is the service that counts. 'When you drink beer in Asia, the brand experience is not only about the beer itself and the packaging - it's the full package. Asia is a beautiful place. There are amazing, charming ladies serving you with smiles, there is amazing food. In Asia, the way to drink is outside. The packaging is less important than in the Western world.'

Under Mr Koh's stewardship, APB went on a regionalisation drive and eventually grew its footprint in Asia. So far, Mr Pirmez has no plans to alter this path. 'When you have a newcomer, I don't think that you change your strategy like this. It's not good for a company, especially for a successful company.'

But not every market in the region has been rewarding - China, South Asia and Mongolia yielded operating losses in Q2 2009. While every serious corporate player wants to be in China, the operating environment there is also tough. 'We are a small player in China. Our strategy is to continue to develop as a small player.

'China is one of the main sources of growth in the region, so that's the good news,' Mr Pirmez says. 'The bad news is that it is a very competitive market, very, very competitive... All of the competitors are working with very, very low margins. I don't know a lot of foreign companies winning against China with margins.'

Nevertheless, other markets in the region have done well. Singapore, Papua New Guinea and Indochina enjoyed double-digit growth in profit before interest, taxation and exceptionals in the same period. Regional growth will remain on APB's cards, but the company will have to focus on its existing business because of the economic downturn, says Mr Pirmez.

'Definitely the short-term challenge for many companies is to get through the crisis and we will be very busy. After that you can start dreaming again of growth opportunities,' he says. 'The good news is, if you see the Asian market, it is one of the main sources of growth for businesses in the world. There are still a lot of opportunities. When you go through the timetable of what there is to do, you can stay for 15 years.'

Looks like Mr Pirmez will be busy brewing plans in the region for some time to come.