Novique Newsletter
Most dining experiences keep music and cocktails in separate lanes. But at Hinabi Privé, the world’s first live art experiential event, that separation doesn’t exist.
You can’t simply book a table. Access is by invitation only—a black envelope that arrives after you’ve requested entry into this rarefied world.
Hinabi Privé Co-Creator and Creative Cocktails Director James Harris leads his artisans, Levi Gee and Clea Iqbal, as they introduce this radically innovative concept to Manila’s dining scene. They’re not just pairing food with drinks or adding a soundtrack to dinner. They’re dismantling the entire system of how we experience hospitality.
“I started as a musician, thinking about how melodies and harmonies could move people emotionally,” James tells me. “Over time, I realised that cocktails could do the same—they have rhythm, texture, and narrative. Each ingredient is like a note, each sip a phrase. Mixology became a way to translate emotion into flavour, and ultimately, to tell stories across senses.”
“When separating lanes, we are breaking systems into pieces and rearranging them to perfectly match,” Levi explains. “The drinks and music are gonna help arrange. People will have different experiences that are the same, and all nights are unique.”
It sounds almost paradoxical until you understand what they’re building.
Breaking the System
A great cocktail bar and great music go hand in hand. Levi adds, “What we don’t see is the joining of the two communities. There might be a crossover. Breaking things down into pieces is two completely different things. Both are art forms meant to be interpreted personally.”
At most venues, the bar operates independently. The kitchen runs its own system. Music gets piped in as background noise. Hinabi Privé actively dismantles that separation.
“It is integral that all are united to make one beautiful evening,” says Levi. “We are trying to unite the bar and the kitchen.”
James, with world-class signature cocktails to his name, approaches the menu with a true musician’s sensibility. His background touring with bands before ever touching a cocktail shaker shaped his entire philosophy.
“Cocktails are compositions,” he explains. “The base spirit is the melody, botanicals create harmony, acidity and finish give rhythm, and the story behind the drink is the lyrics. Just like music, timing and pacing matter—how a sip lands in relation to a bite or a moment shapes the overall experience.”
His partnership with Co-Creator and the Founder of Hinabi Privé, Pat Villaceran, emerged naturally from this shared philosophy.
“Pat and I are really good friends. We both care deeply about stories and people,” James says. “Hinabi Privé began naturally from those conversations. Pat thinks in systems and lineage; I think in emotion and texture. Together, our ideas just fit—it wasn’t just concept, it was a feeling.”
“Each part is important to create new experiences,” Levi adds. “Drinks match the people—in mood, and character. Music and drinks are different but share the same values and principles, and creativity.”
The global immersive dining market is projected to reach USD 23.1 billion by 2033, with an annual growth rate of 13.8%. Everyone wants to create “experiences” now. But Hinabi Privé isn’t interested in spectacle.
At their events, mobile phones are banned. Plus ones aren’t allowed. Groups of strangers who’ve never met are carefully curated to sit together. Each gathering is limited, intimate, and designed for those who understand that true luxury isn’t bought—it’s experienced.
“Social pretenses kill genuine connection,” Pat explains. What’s left is a space where six senses engage simultaneously—sight, sound, taste, touch, smell, and that sixth sense that recognises when something truly matters.
And for the woman behind Hinabi Privé’s driving force, this live-art “six-senses” experience is set to be a ground-breaking redefinition of what experiential spaces should and will look like in the future.
“Six-senses means designing for everything you feel, hear, see, smell, touch, and emotion,” Pat says. “Storytelling is the thread that connects it all—it gives each sensory cue meaning, creating a narrative guests can step into.”
“Hinabi Privé is an experience that weaves Filipino heritage into modern design. Every evening is unique: cocktails, music, menus, and spaces respond to the moment. I’ve never worked on a project where impermanence, cultural dialogue, and emotional storytelling are so tightly interwoven. It truly is “Hinabi” in its truest form. And I am so proud of the entire team behind it.”
The Filipino Cultural Experiment
When I ask about the Filipino ingredients woven throughout the menu—calamansi, pandan, ube—there’s a moment of careful consideration.
“Being in the Philippines will help us learn more about the culture,” Levi says. “We can learn so much Filipino in the menu and dance. Cooking is integral to match drinks and people. Local ingredients are in the drinks.”
But here’s the tension: they’re foreigners working with deeply rooted cultural ingredients.
“We are the most unfamiliar people in the Philippines,” Levi admits. “We must keep an open mind. When it comes to culture, we will dive into it by socialising with the people to get to know about the culture. Be sensitive to how we touch the ingredients.”
That sensitivity takes shape in their process. Every drink goes through tastings with Filipino team members first. “There must be a trial,” Levi explains. “A tasting to make sure that things are working out. The drink must pass to many different people Filipino. Everyone should be checked by others first.”
James adds another dimension: “Honoring history means having the right perspective. All of what they are seeing is not their culture; they are unfamiliar with the ingredients. They must try the taste. Giving back to the people the experience they experienced with the taste of local ingredients.”
It’s a fascinating paradox—the dichotomy of cultural lenses as both limitation and advantage.
“It takes a discerning eye to look and ask specific questions, the same way they will navigate the ingredients to be integrated into the drinks. We are curious in the Philippines. We are learning how ingredients in the Philippines can be used in different ways—the way we look into culture.”
As a UK-based creative working with Filipino heritage, James has discovered something profound. “Filipino culture is rich in rhythm, colour, and ritual—elements that translate beautifully into both music and cocktails,” he reflects. “Working with local ingredients, regional stories, and family traditions has taught me to listen deeply, to feel the tempo of a place, and to honour heritage whilst interpreting it through modern sensory design.”
The menu at Hinabi Privé is a four-course fine-dining avant-garde experience that immerses you in history and in untapped, seemingly humble Filipino ingredients elevated to new heights.
Yet it honours cultural patterns like Kamayan—the tradition of eating with your hands from a shared banana leaf spread. Or the last piece ritual, where one piece always remains on the plate. Nobody takes it. Everyone waits.
Dishes are served family-style, creating moments where hesitation becomes connection, where strangers navigate unspoken rules together and emerge as something closer to community.
When Precision Meets Spontaneity
Clea, the songstress at Hinabi Prive, articulates a tension that defines Hinabi Privé’s creative philosophy.
“Drinks are precise, and music is expressive,” she says. “Drinks must be perfect and must have balance, but with music, I see it as something that is not perfect. Coming up with what is alive and spontaneous.”
So how do you hold both truths at once?
“It’s not a black and white answer,” Clea explains. “The two aspects are changing in their own way. Drinks are not always gonna be precise, and music will not always be creative—they influence each other. Find where they do intersect.”
That intersection happens in real-time. She’ll change keys, adjust the song list, shift the tune based on the energy in the room.
“Changing keys, song list, and tune, because of circumstances to match the night, the same with the drinks,” she says.
For Clea, drinks and music operate as parallel art forms. “Drinks put there in a memory of a past—brings you to something you experienced before, the same way food does. In music, if I wanna work with a song, I drink something to get experienced. Both are art forms, and they are meant to be interpreted personally by individuals.”
The cocktail becomes a portal. Music becomes a dialogue.
James adds his perspective on this relationship between sound and taste: “Music amplifies flavour. A cocktail paired with a melody creates resonance; the senses respond together. It’s about creating emotional architecture—sound informs taste, and taste informs how a guest experiences the night.”
His original music compositions feature throughout each event, creating layers of meaning that go beyond simple background ambience.
There are moments—Clea calls them “nailing it”—when everything clicks. “Sometimes, you can sit down, and after an hour, I realise I nailed it—all are coming perfectly, music, drinks, and food,” she says. “What I love about the drinks because they change with the people you’re with and the food being served. Drinks and mixology are related to music.”
Those moments can’t be engineered. They emerge from the interplay between structure and improvisation.
Pushing the Boundaries of Taste
“How far can we push people’s experience in taste?”
Levi asks. It’s the question driving every menu iteration.
He tells me about a bar regular nicknamed “Manhattan Mike” because he only ever ordered Manhattans. One night, Levi served him an experimental Sazerac.
Mike fell in love with it.
“Mike approached me that Mike came to a bar and didn’t know what to order, a Manhattan or Sazerac,” Levi recalls with a smile. “Convincing people to be adventurous.”
That’s the goal—expand people’s sensory vocabulary. Show them that what they thought they loved might just be the edge of what they could love.
The partnership rests on mutual respect and uncompromising standards. Every cocktail gets tested until it feels right—not until it tastes technically perfect, but until it creates the emotional response they’re aiming for.
They design for impermanence. Each Hinabi Privé event happens once. The menu changes. The music evolves. The people never gather in quite the same way again.
“Impermanence mirrors life,” James says. “Each night is a composition tied to a moment, a place, and the people in the room. That makes it alive, intimate, and unforgettable.”
He’s developing a curated selection of signature cocktails for the Manila Origin Arc. “I begin with a story or an emotion, then map flavours like musical notes. Each creation is tested until it lands emotionally. The intention is impermanence—no two nights repeat. Guests experience something ephemeral, personal, and unique.”
What It Feels Like
Hinabi Privé should feel, as James describes it, “like being on your couch with people you trust, but elevated.”
Intimate atmosphere. Warmth and soul. The kind of space where you can be fully present because nothing demands performance.
When asked what he means by ‘luxury’ in this context, his answer surprises me.
“Luxury isn’t excess; it’s care, intention, and emotional resonance,” he says. “Hinabi Privé is luxury experienced, remembered, and felt—personalised to the individual, yet shared with community.”
The team maintains these standards without pretension. The music fills the room the way it does when you’re alone, and a song hits differently. The food carries that unexplainable fragrance of home—the scent of sautéed aromatics that holds a thousand memories.
When you curate stranger collectives, unexpected conversations emerge. A tech founder asks why sibuyas (onions) smell different when sautéed with garlic and tomato—the Holy Trinity of Filipino cooking. That question opens discussions about regional diversity, about how sourness can mean strength in Adobo, whilst sweetness can add depth to Humba.
These conversations wouldn’t happen at a traditional restaurant. The format creates a space for curiosity.
Why It Matters
63% of consumers seek dining experiences that engage multiple senses. The pandemic heightened demand for entertainment and sensational experiences. People want to feel something real.
But “immersive” has become a buzzword. Projections and dry ice don’t create transformation—they create Instagram moments.
Guests describe Hinabi Privé as transformative healing. They compare it to watching a Pixar film—that feeling when a story reaches inside you and rearranges something.
“We are learning about the culture—what are the trends, nostalgia, and finding a balance that is appealing to many people,” Levi says. “We will experiment with how far we can push people’s experience in taste.”
Every element works together to create what James calls a “living archive.” You’re not just eating and drinking. You’re participating in cultural storytelling that honours ancestral voices whilst pushing toward something new.
Beyond Manila
Hinabi Privé won’t remain in Manila. The experience will soon travel to the United Kingdom, Singapore, and Dubai—each iteration adapted to its cultural context whilst maintaining Filipino storytelling at its core.
“The core remains Filipino storytelling, but each city has its own rhythm,” James explains. “In London, precision meets warmth; Singapore combines structure with intimacy; Dubai brings resplendence and hospitality. Ingredients, soundscapes, and social rhythm adapt to the place.”
The concept isn’t about replicating the Philippines abroad. “It’s a conversation,” he says. “We look at local ingredients, cultural references, and historical threads, then translate them into flavour, texture, and sound. The goal isn’t mimicry—it’s connection.”
When I ask what excites him about merging these worlds, his answer is immediate: “The thrill is in dialogue: bringing two worlds into conversation and letting something new emerge. There’s courage in listening, contrast in honouring differences, and collaboration in translating that into a night that feels intimate yet expansive.”
There’s even a subscription box in development, inspired by his cocktails. “It’s not just about ingredients—it’s about narrative,” James tells me. “Every box carries a story, a sensory composition, and a moment that connects the drinker to a city, a culture, and a memory. Each box is tailored to the consumer after a brief consultation with me. Making sure each bottle is perfectly paired with your taste and desires.”
How to Enter
Hinabi Privé operates on a principle of intentional scarcity. You cannot purchase your way in. You cannot show up unannounced.
Access begins with a request. Those who wish to attend must formally request an invitation. If your request is accepted, a black envelope arrives—elegant, understated, containing all the details for an evening that exists only once.
The envelope is your entry. Without it, the doors remain closed.
“This isn’t about exclusivity for its own sake,” Pat explains. “It’s about creating the right conditions for transformation. When people understand that access is earned through intention, not transaction, they arrive differently. They’re present. They’re open.”
Each event is limited. Each menu never repeats. Each gathering is curated with care.
This is Hinabi Privé’s invitation to those who understand that the most valuable experiences cannot be commodified—only offered, received, and remembered.
The Legacy
Hinabi Privé isn’t just an event. It’s a movement towards genuine human connection through artistry.
Each event is unique. The menu changes. The music evolves. The people never gather in quite the same way again. This impermanence is intentional—it mirrors life itself.
This is where strangers become community, where cocktails become conversations, where ephemeral experiences create personal uniqueness that guests carry forward long after the evening ends.
No phones. No pretence. Just six senses engaging with art, culture, and strangers who might become something more.
When I ask James about the legacy he hopes to leave, his response feels fitting for someone who designs for impermanence:
“A legacy of intentional creativity: experiences that honour culture, amplify community, and remind people that craft, care, and storytelling can transform the way we gather, taste, and feel.”
Or as he puts it more simply: “This is what happens when you stop treating hospitality as service and start treating it as art.”
