Elaine Chia
Ph. Keith Saunders
Stranger #1
Elaine Chia, Naomi Milgrom Foundation CEO
I first met Elaine, during my visit to the RMIT Campus in Brunswick, Melbourne. I was there with Stefano Mirti, founder of IdLab, and Rachaporn Choochuey, the architect who designed the 2022 MPavilion. As we explored Rachaporn's relocated MPavilion, Elaine approached us with a warmth that immediately set the tone for our future connection. When I later reached out for an interview, she accepted without hesitation. I was surprised to discover how much we have in common, especially our educational backgrounds and I was deeply inspired by the remarkable professional journey she has built. Through our conversation, I realised that exceptional leadership isn’t about perfection but about courage, vulnerability, and trust. Elaine embodies the idea that true leaders embrace uncertainty, support their teams, and maintain an unwavering positive attitude. Her journey is a powerful reminder that stepping into the unknown with confidence can turn fear into extraordinary opportunities.
How would you introduce yourself?
Introducing myself is always a bit of a challenge. I often say I’m a jack of all trades—someone who does a lot of different things but isn’t necessarily an expert in any one field. Early in my career, someone described me that way, and at the time, I was quite offended. But over the years, I’ve come to embrace it—I now see it as an accurate and even positive reflection of who I am.
I’ve had an incredible journey in my working life, working across many different areas. I’ve been fortunate to have opportunities come my way, sometimes even before I felt ready, and that’s how I stepped into leadership roles. If I had to sum myself up, I’d say I’m a facilitator, I’m that sort of person that loves creative ideas and have had the privilege to see how to make these ideas happen.
Could you share some key moments from your professional journey that led you to the Naomi Milgrom Foundation?
I studied architecture and graduated in interior design, but I never actually practiced. Instead, I’ve spent my entire career working in the arts. My passion for architecture, design, and the arts ultimately led me to work with Naomi Milgrom, leading her foundation, which includes MPavilion as one of its key projects.
One of the defining moments in my career came in the mid-90s, when I was given one of my first jobs—running a music camp for 240 students. I had no idea what I was doing, and I don’t think I slept for two weeks! But that experience was transformational because it gave me the confidence to take on challenges. After surviving that, I felt like I could do anything.
Later on I got the opportunity to work on Australia’s representation at the Venice Biennale in Italy, a project I was involved in for five and a half years. I project managed the building of the new Australian pavilion in Venice, which was the first 21st-century building ever built there. It was an incredible experience—navigating a city where new buildings simply aren’t constructed, only restored, and finding a path forward where no one had before. It was fascinating to work with artists and architects, to learn how to navigate authorities, and to truly listen to what was important to all stakeholders. Seeing the impact of realising such a significant project on the other side of the world was unforgettable. Then last year Australia won one more Golden Lion at the Venice Biennale and, even though I had nothing to do with that project, I’d like to think that the new pavilion brought some support for the artist’s exhibition.
After my work in Venice, I became the first CEO of a newly established company tasked with transforming City Recital Hall in Sydney. My role was to curate a new venue model, expand programming, and attract new audiences. That experience truly solidified my belief in the power of venues and public spaces—how they connect artists and audiences. It’s that same philosophy that drives my work at MPavilion and the Naomi Milgrom Foundation today.
Since becoming CEO of The Naomi Milgrom Foundation, how has your role shaped the organisation’s direction, especially regarding the MPavilion project?
I see myself as the next custodian of this amazing project. MPavilion was started in 2014 by Naomi Milgrom with Robert Buckingham, and later led by Sam Redston before I stepped into the role. I’d like to think that each of us has brought a different perspective and renewed energy to the project.
For me, stepping into this role was unexpected. I originally joined Naomi to work on another project, but when Sam decided to step aside, I took over. At that point, Tadao Ando had already been selected as the next MPavilion architect, so last year felt like a sprint marathon—racing to complete the pavilion and launch it in time for MPavilion’s 10th anniversary. It was an incredible experience, but in many ways, the program had already been shaped by the previous team. My focus was on enhancing what was in place and bringing in new voices that weren’t already there.
This year has been particularly interesting and challenging because, for the first time, we are working with the same pavilion for a second year. Working on the extension of the Tadao Ando pavilion has been a new experience for us. Seeing so many people engage with the pavilion even during the off-season has been fantastic. However, it also posed a challenge—MPavilion has always been about new architecture every year, and this time, we had to think about how to keep the experience fresh with the same structure but a new program. This shift enabled us to reflect more deeply on our programming. We had the unique advantage of already knowing what would work and what wouldn’t work, which helped us curate discussions and themes that would truly resonate.
We structured this year’s program into three key phases and three themes. The starting theme was Home Ground exploring the concept of place: What does place mean? How do we define home? How do we create a sense of belonging beyond just physical space?
Running during January’s summer school holidays, the second phase was called Building Blocks, we focused on architecture and design as tools for creativity. We invited collaborators to explore the fundamentals of construction, from hands-on workshops with cardboard structures to interactive design play.
Our final program series, called Every Living Things, shifted towards sustainability and ecology. We wanted to expand the conversation beyond humans and think about our co-existence with nature, non-human species, and the broader ecological system. It was about reimagining our relationship with the world around us, beyond just human-centered narratives.
Through these themes, Tadao Ando’s pavilion has proven incredibly adaptable, shapeshifting to support each phase of the program.
What has been the greatest challenge you have faced in your career?
I’ve always had a fear of failure. Over the years, I’ve become more accustomed to ambiguity, and I see that as a strength—it allows me to be flexible in how I approach projects. But at the same time, there’s always that challenge: what if I can’t deliver it? I can embrace uncertainty to a point, but at some stage, I need to know that I’m not going to fail. There have been many moments in my career where I felt like I might. As a cultural leader, you can put everything in place, but sometimes, things just don’t work out. The challenge is figuring out how to handle that possibility without losing faith in yourself or letting down the people who rely on you.
One of the biggest moments for me was in 2020, when I joined the Adelaide Festival. I had just moved to Adelaide for this brand-new job, tasked with delivering a festival—right at the start of COVID. At that point, I honestly thought, I might not be able to do this. There was so much uncertainty, and the whole team was grappling with what we couldn’t do anymore. It was incredibly difficult to shift mindsets and find a way forward. But we made the decision early on that we had to try—and in the end, we did it.
It was a tough time, but looking back, I think I was actually the right leader to step in at that moment, because I had never run a festival before, so I had no frame of reference for how things should be done—I had nothing to lose. That meant I was able to let go of expectations, embrace the unknown, and help guide a team of highly experienced people through a situation where everything they knew was being challenged.
What are the main criteria and values you look for when selecting the next MPavilion architect?
The selection of the MPavilion architect is ultimately Naomi Milgrom’s decision, as the founder and commissioner of the project. However, from what I’ve observed, she always looks for architects with a unique architectural language—someone whose work brings a fresh perspective and challenges conventional ideas and it’s not necessarily about choosing a prize-winning architect. Naomi has an infinite curiosity for design and architecture, and her research is incredibly extensive.
She considers the architects who have come before, ensuring that each new pavilion adds something distinctly different to the series. I think that’s the defining point of MPavilion. Even though every pavilion is built on the same grid and footprint, each one feels entirely unique—it’s magical how different they can be from one another.
Do you consider Tadao Ando’s Pavilion as a temporary structure or one that carries a sense of permanence? How does it fit within MPavilion’s evolving narrative?
One of the most fascinating aspects of the MPavilion commission is its very open brief, which is likely why so many international architects have been eager to participate. The project provides the foundational platform, but beyond that, the vision is entirely up to the architect.
Tadao Ando’s MPavilion is a signature piece, reflecting his renowned use of concrete. But this raises an important and ongoing debate: is concrete still the right material for the 21st century? It’s a question we grappled with internally, and we know it has sparked reactions from the broader public.
Looking at the environmental impact, the amount of concrete used in the pavilion is roughly equivalent to the foundation of an average house, which is not that much. However, because it is a vertical structure, its presence feels much more notable. Would we use this material again? I’m not sure—but what’s certain is that Ando’s pavilion carries a sense of permanence. A key consideration for us has been how the pavilion interacts with its surroundings. In response to the public’s engagement, we recently announced that we have offered the Tadao Ando Pavilion as a gift to the city, allowing it to remain in the gardens for an extended period. We are currently in discussions with the City, and if the pavilion can stay longer, it would be a meaningful way to recognise both its carbon footprint and the effort invested in its construction.
Pavilions often start as temporary structures but become permanent when relocated. In your opinion, how does a pavilion’s impact on the city change when it shifts from temporary to permanent?
The MPavilion model over the past 10 years is to start as a temporary pavilion on its original site, that establishes a gathering place in the heart of the city, within the gardens. When relocated to its permanent home, it naturally takes on a new life, viewed in an entirely different context.
The partners who have accepted and relocated these pavilions also use them in unique ways.
For instance, the 2022 MPavilion by Rachaporn Choochuey of all(zone) was relocated to RMIT in Brunswick last year. Even Rachaporn, upon visiting the new location, remarked how great it looked there, even though she hadn’t designed it specifically for that site. The pavilion, now set amidst a mix of buildings and trees in the central space, holds a different energy.
I believe the gift of permanence has a different psychological effect on the pavilion and how people perceive it beyond the initial season
It also allows for unexpected outcomes..
Yes, and different ways of approaching it. We’ve always run the MPavilion program in the Queen Victoria Gardens giving the sense that there’s always something happening, but when pavilions are relocated as standalone pieces of great architecture, they take on a meaning of their own.
I find the relocation of the pavilions around the city particularly interesting. How do people reuse them? Do you prefer giving communities the freedom to find new functions for the pavilions, or do you think external coordination would help engage them more effectively?
That's a really great question. I think a gift is a gift and should come with the freedom for the community to embrace it in the way they see it. We would love to see the pavilions activated, and some have frameworks for activation, while others do not. For example, the Glenn Murcutt pavilion in Parkville has a whole program around it and is probably more activated than our own program—it’s so well used. The pavilion at Monash Peninsula is still coming into its own, and we continue to see activity around the 2017 MPavilion at the Monash Clayton campus. However, we try not to dictate how the community responds to it. As long as they value it, that's the most important thing for us. A gift with conditions is always a bit tricky.
What is the most beautiful scene you have witnessed in the pavilions since you started working there?
One of the most beautiful moments I’ve witnessed was last year—I snapped an amazing photo of it.
I walked in one day and there was a mother with her son. She had placed one of our newly commissioned quilts on the floor next to the reflection pool, sitting on it, reading something, while her son played nearby. It was one of those moments where I thought, "This is exactly what the space was meant to be—a resting place, a shelter in the shade, a beautiful spot for people to enjoy."
Then, as the boy played, he accidentally dropped his water bottle into the pond. The bottle began floating away, thanks to the water pump that keeps the water constantly moving. One of my team members saw what was happening, and quickly grabbed our fishing net used for cleaning the pool and pulled it out. It was a spontaneous, totally unscripted moment—a reminder of the magic of what happens in the space. It wasn’t something we had planned, but it was a beautiful scene of how people interact with the pavilion.
What does the future hold for MPavilion?
This year, we are putting a pause on the MPavilion program, so we won’t be running a new program. The reason is that I joined the Foundation to focus on another significant project—the redevelopment of the former Richmond Power Station in Cremorne. We’re about to enter the construction phase of that project, and it will take up most of our time to ensure its successful delivery, which we hope will open by the end of next year.
We are a very small team and we think it’s the right moment to put a pause on the MPavilion and take the time to reflect on its future. We’ll be considering whether the MPavilion model should evolve. This pause gives us the opportunity to think critically about the future direction of the project.
Is there a dream project you have always wanted to realise but haven’t had the chance to work on yet? If so, what is it?
When I was in Adelaide in 2021, Naomi Milgrom called me and asked me to work on the Richmond Power Station project with her. I can honestly say that it is an absolute dream project for me. It brings me together with Naomi, with whom I share a deep, aligned passion for architecture, design, and the arts, and in many ways, it feels like I've come home, or perhaps found my new home.
How many opportunities one ever has in life to dream, envision, and create something brand new—something that may not have been done before, although there are rarely truly new ideas. The exciting part is how we can take existing ideas, combine them, and stretch them. To work with an incredibly generous philanthropist on something truly groundbreaking. It really is a dream project.
Name a person that inspires you or that you admire.
There’s a person I’ve met in the past few years who I think is incredible—her name is Angela Hirst, and she’s working with us on the Richmond Power Station project. Angela established a business called Wandering Cooks in Brisbane, where she created a shared-use incubator kitchen for micro-businesses. She brought together an incredible community of cooks and growers, establishing a model that not only built community but also explored how to design food, businesses, and impactful initiatives. I would highly recommend speaking with her—she’s an absolute dynamo.
“Dear Angela,
Your bravery to start Wandering Cooks is something that I wish I could emulate. Even before I was connected to you I had heard about Cooks, and what joy and enrichment it created.
Without doubt it would have been super tough but your passion and drive coupled with strategic creative thinking created a whole network and community.
We need more Angela Hirsts in the world. I’m glad you’re part of mine.”
