Product & industrial design · Spatial design · Design leadership. I design architecture, products, identities and digital experiences as one connected system.
Buildings, interiors and environments that behave like organisms, not objects.
Wearables, carry systems and vehicles taken from sketch to 3D-printed reality.
Brands built as worlds — typography, apparel, film and voice included.
Interfaces and websites that made it to production. Users arrive without rage-clicking.
The consultancies ran alongside the studio roles — not instead of them. Architecture school taught the systems; everything since has been pressure-testing them across products, brands, films and buildings.
Five lights on. Then out. Click the instant they go dark — the same test every driver on the grid trains on. Then we start the lap.
Echolocation isn't just for bats.
A sensory headgear that maps space through sound — giving spatial awareness back to the visually impaired. Haptic sensors recreate texture, vibration and temperature on the neck band; the auditory unit translates the room into signal. Sculpted digitally, then 3D-printed and held up to the light. The model below is the actual production file — drag it. Carefully. It passed scrutineering.
Haptic engine — feeling, remote
Auditory unit
Print in progress — Curtin tech lab
Bench. Blade. Prototype.
Carbon fibre shell — less drag, more downforce
Studio — nowhere to hide on white
Visual unit — spatial awarenessA hypercar drawn the way a sculptor drafts marble: by deciding what to remove.
The MK6 started as a single gesture — one unbroken line from the splitter to the rear haunch — and every study after it was an argument about how much to take away. The greenhouse got pulled rearward until the cabin read as a canopy rather than a room. The shoulders were widened until the car looked planted standing still. The liveries came last, and not as decoration: if a form only survives in silver, it isn't a form yet — it's a lighting trick.
MK6 / 01 — DOWN THE ROAD
MK6 / 02 — ROSSO, OBVIOUSLY
MK6 / 03 — THE ONE LINE
MK6 / 04 — LIVERY AS STRESS TEST
MK6 / 05 — HAUNCH & STANCE
MK6 / 06 — LIGHTS OUTRendered in a virtual studio rather than a landscape on purpose. Scenery flatters a bad surface — a seamless white cyclorama has nowhere to hide a highlight that wobbles.
Personal flight with nothing sharp left spinning.
Every drone shares one design flaw: four exposed rotors and a person standing underneath. AIRFOIL deletes them. Air is drawn through an annular duct and accelerated over a curved inner lip — the same principle that lets a bladeless fan move a room's worth of air through an empty hoop — so thrust arrives with no visible edge to catch a hand.
That single constraint wrote the entire object. When the duct is the engine, the ring becomes the design — there's no bodywork left to hide behind, so every surface has to earn its place structurally before it's allowed to look good. Sketched on an iPad, sculpted in 3D, printed on lattice scaffolding, and sitting in one hand by the evening.
AIRFOIL / 01 — FIELD TEST
AIRFOIL / 02 — NO MOVING EDGES
AIRFOIL / 03 — PARC FERMÉ
Descent under an atrium — the duct reads as a halo, which was not an accident
Plan view — the intake is the whole silhouette
Sketch to duct print, same afternoon
Fit check — the palm test it was drawn for
Lattice scaffolding — the ring can't self-support mid-printAerodynamics is just sculpture that argues back.
Wind tunnel — session 26 / flow attachedArchitecture you could actually inhale.
A villa built on spatial clarity, natural light and material balance. Every view was crafted to feel inhabitable, not just photogenic — openness, proportion and mood turned from drawings into visuals that behave like memories of a place you haven't visited yet.
Pool court — still water, still mind
Autumn elevation
Concrete, softened
The forest, framed
Rain room — light includedClassrooms from a kinder science fiction.
Orica Blu is a starship classroom — fluid ceilings, ambient lighting and furniture that treats curiosity as a structural material. Arrakis is a music school where façades respond to light and airflow, so the building performs before the students do.
Orica Blu — ceiling as sky
Exploded axonometric
Plan — aerial + entrance
Arrakis — dusk performance
Orica Blu — the spread, uncroppedMinimal outside. Plotting something inside.
Deck CT — a creative control deck with a scroll wheel and modular magnetic buttons, designed to do more while looking like less. Dzine Folio — a luxury carry system with magnetic locks. Panic included never.
Deck CT — in the hand
Dzine Folio — carbon mood
Deck CT — elevation 01
Modular faces
Elevation 03 — scroll wheel
Folio — front, buttoned down
Gold trim variant
Red strap. Obviously.Materials pass scrutineering too.
Macro — carbon, stone, obsessionBrands are worlds. These are field notes.
The Riotform apparel line, poster work that argues with itself, and the drawings underneath everything — digital paint, ballpoint honesty and sketches with no agenda (except looking good).
HOPE — digital paint
Riotform worn — drop 001
Gothic renaissance
Chennaiyil oru naal
Ink — no undo button
Layered back panel
Neon study
Cathedral — gouache, night
Drop 001 — flat, before the attitude
Graphite portraitSerious about the work. Not about myself.
Perth — between projects, still smilingWhere the obsession gets peer-reviewed.
A design-research study on material evolution in Formula 1 — from steel and aluminium to carbon fibre, graphene and the eco-driven paradigm ahead. Ninety years of engineering, typeset with the same care as the cars. This is why the whole studio thinks in sectors and tenths.
Cover — design paradigms
1930 → 2024, one grid
Safety — the non-negotiable sector
Sustainability — re-designed monocoque
The future paradigm — we are checkingFeatured exhibits are the race. This is the garage — every project, concept and exploration, catalogued. Some entries are still under covers. We are checking.
Somewhere between precision and experimentation.
The founder, mid-corner — golden hour withheld
AJ Ling — mid-stride, unbotheredArchitecture trained me first, and it never really left — every brand, product or interface I build is still a structure: load paths, hierarchy, light, the way a person moves through it. That's why I refuse to stay inside one discipline. Ideas don't respect lane markings, so neither do I. A villa teaches me about interfaces. A hypercar teaches me about typography. Everything is telemetry for everything else.
Bachelor of Architecture at Anna University, Chennai (2018–23); Graduate Certificate in Design at Curtin, Perth (2024–25). Days: Assistant Design Lead at Sobha Realty, running design across projects worldwide. The rest of the time: Riotform Studios, the laboratory I founded — where experimentation isn't a phase, it's the quality-control department. I directed two short films that took first prize in both, and I still pretend all my design decisions were obvious from the start.
On AI: I treat generative tools as instruments in the pipeline, not a shortcut around it — concept exploration, faster iteration, visual development. The craft decisions stay with the designer. This entire website was designed and built by me.
My greatest ongoing project.
An experimental creative studio built on one belief: disciplines are lanes, and lanes are for overtaking. Riotform collides architecture, branding, products, spaces and digital worlds into single ecosystems — with its own apparel line, its own research division, and its own hidden R&D lab (you may have already found it).
The founder, at the bench — prouder than reasonablePut architecture next to apparel next to aerodynamics. The friction is the point.
Every idea gets built, printed, rendered or shipped. Concepts that stay concepts are DNFs.
Maximum attack, minimum clutter. Rebellion with tolerances.
Hiring, commissioning, or just curious. Bring the brief — the coffee's on me, or at least I'll pretend it is.
You found all eight. Champions get perks: email with the subject line “P1” and the coffee is real. Simply lovely.
championship complete — click anywhere to return to parc ferméYou found the R&D lab. Step into the tunnel — 20,000 particles will reconstruct you as a Formula One digital sculpture.
Front camera required. Everything renders locally — no pixel leaves your machine. We checked. Twice.