Bali already has a language of timber, stone, thatch and pavilions open on three sides, and it is a good one. The risk is a version of it that looks like every other villa in Canggu, Uluwatu or Ubud: the same teak, the same pale render, the same pool framed the same way. What owners and hotel operators want is rooms that belong to the island and still feel like their own.
NYKS takes on a Bali project as a whole, led from Jaipur. We design the interiors and commission craft, much of it Rajasthani, to sit against the island’s own, and the licensed Indonesian architect and contractor on the team hold the permits and build. We fly in for the decisions that need us in the room and run everything else from India.
None of our built work is in Indonesia; it is in Jaipur and Udaipur. We show these projects because they share Bali’s instincts: rooms open to the sky, hospitality as the brief, and objects made by hand rather than bought as a look.
Bali keeps Central Indonesia Time, two and a half hours on from India, so a morning in the Jaipur studio is early afternoon on site. Nonstop flights from Delhi to Denpasar take about seven and a half hours, which means fewer, longer visits than we would make to Bangkok, each planned around a list of decisions. You work with the same designers from first sketch to last visit; more on how the studio is run.
Indonesia replaced the old IMB permit with the PBG (Persetujuan Bangunan Gedung) under Government Regulation 16 of 2021. It covers new buildings and changes to existing ones, and once the work has been built and inspected, the SLF (Sertifikat Laik Fungsi) certifies that the building is fit for use. Under the 2017 Architects Law, a foreign architect must partner with an Indonesian architect who is responsible for the work, and a foreign company trading locally needs a PT PMA. So the Indonesian architect on the team is responsible for the architecture and the permits and an Indonesian contractor builds, while NYKS designs the interiors from India, commissions the craft and coordinates the team through to handover.
Bali adds rules of its own. The provincial spatial plan (Perda Bali 2/2023) caps building height at 15 metres in general, the old ‘no higher than a coconut tree’. A 2005 provincial regulation asks buildings to carry Balinese architectural character grounded in Tri Hita Karana, the balance between people, nature and the divine, and asta kosala kosali, the traditional building code, still shapes how many families orient and proportion a compound. Recent provincial rules also restrict the conversion of productive farmland and prohibit nominee ownership, so we ask to see the land’s zoning and permits before we draw.
The wet season runs roughly from November to March, peaking in January and February; humidity stays near 80 per cent all year, and the hills around Ubud are wetter than the coast. An open-sided room has no weather line. Rain comes in on the wind, and everything under the roof has to cope with it: deep overhangs and raised floors first, finishes second.
Termites are the other constant. Anything structural or built-in should be durable heartwood such as teak or merbau, kept clear of the ground, and the soil is best treated before the slab is poured rather than by drilling finished floors later. Bamboo and fibre need proper treatment and dry detailing or they fail within a few seasons. On the coast at Canggu or Uluwatu, salt adds a third problem: fixings in 316 stainless steel or bronze, and brass left to age.
Balinese craft is very much alive, from the woodcarvers of Mas to the island’s stone carvers and bamboo builders, and we would commission from them first. Where a Bali villa turns generic is when every surface speaks the same dialect. A few pieces from a different tradition, used with restraint, break the pattern.
There is kinship too. Asta kosala kosali is sometimes compared with vastu: both take their measures from the human body and their orientation from the landscape. That shared ground makes the meeting of the two crafts feel natural rather than imported.
Your Indonesian architect, through the government’s online building system, with the architectural and structural drawings. Extending, enclosing or altering an existing building needs a PBG too, and the building needs its SLF before it is used. Our interior drawings are coordinated with the architect’s set, so what we specify is what gets approved. NYKS does not submit permits in Indonesia; we make sure the set that is submitted matches the rooms you approved.
Yes, with the paperwork in order. Indonesian imports need an importer holding an importer identification number (API), so goods clear through your Indonesian company or a licensed import agent. Containers usually tranship through Surabaya or Jakarta before reaching Bali. Import duty and VAT both apply; we put them into the budget, and the extra transit time into the programme, from the start.
By deciding early what the house is about — a view, a garden, a collection — and letting everything else be quiet. We commission a few pieces from Balinese makers and a few from Jaipur, keep the material palette short, and avoid the default kit of teak daybeds, pale render and rattan pendants repeated in every room. The difference comes from fewer, better decisions.
They will if the building keeps water off them. Deep overhangs, raised floors and drainage at every edge matter more than any sealant. Timber should be durable heartwood, bamboo and fibre properly treated, and upholstery on removable covers stored dry in the rains. Termites are a greater threat than water: soil treatment before the slab and timber kept off the ground prevent most of the damage.
That is for you and your architect to decide, but it is worth understanding before departing from it. Orientation toward mountain and sea, and the place of the family shrine, still matter to many Balinese, including the people who will work in the house. Respecting that costs little. Inside the rooms, there is plenty of freedom to bring a different voice.