Letter from Kuala Lumpur.

When the South-East Asian economic express hit the buffers, Malaysia felt the effects as cruelly as any of its neighbours. After nearly a decade of 8 per cent annual growth, during which property development was a favoured route to quick and sure returns on investment, the collapse of the currency and the stock market is calamitous for the construction industry. Architects' offices, that so recently were happy to recruit anyone capable of holding a pencil, are now shedding staff and cutting salaries in a desperate attempt to survive.

For some it is already too late. While this is painful for the profession, a pause in the headlong rush to attain developed nation status by 2020 will provide an opportunity to take stock of what has actually been achieved so far. The sleepy colonial town of Kuala Lumpur has undoubtedly been transformed into a dynamic capital city, but at the expense of much poor planning, shallow design and the shoddy construction that so often characterizes boom, in both the developed and developing worlds.

Collectively, the profession rails haplessly at what has happened, but individuals remain constrained by a culture of deference, coupled with the need to quickly attain the material wherewithal that defines social and professional status here. To advance the concepts of disinterested and ethical practice is often to invite ridicule from both clients and colleagues. It is therefore perhaps relevant that it is foreign architects, insulated from local pressures and ironically with the support of the all-powerful, ultra-nationalist Prime Minister, who have designed the two buildings of which the nation is most proud. It is a hard heart or a poor eye that denies Cesar Pelli the civic design success of his 'facets of crystal', as they sparkle in the tropical sunshine (AR March 1997).

With the exception of a few curmudgeonly architects the Petronas Twin Towers are justifiably the pride of the whole nation. Enjoying a much more legitimate architectural claim is Kurokawa's fabulous new international airport (AR September 1998). It also provides a salutary disorienting and embarrassing experience for British expatriates arriving in this third world country from the squalor of London's Heathrow.

That there is much home-grown work to praise among the overall dross is a compliment to the determination and commitment of those local architects who have overcome the commercial culture of quick returns and hang the quality.

Ken Yeang is Malaysia's only international superstar. Whether in the persona of Dr Kenneth Yeang, advocate and exponent of bioclimatic building, or as 'our Ken', nightclub raconteur, he is good value. His recently completed, visually stunning Guthrie pavilion (AR November 1998), complete with a rooftop 'cigar'

punch line, appears to combine his two exceptional talents. Current fashionable local heroes are GDB Architects, a young practice with a clutch of fine buildings in their portfolio, including the award-winning high-tech headquarters for Proton, the manufacturer of the national car. GDB are collaborating with Norman Foster on the design of the new Petronas University in Ipoh.

From an earlier generation, Hijjas Kasturi probably remains the best known architect among the general public. His new 'sail' tower for Malaysia Telekom will certainly reinforce the popularity of his work with the man in the street. He is also one of the few architects with the status and courage to publicly complain to the government about the deplorable neglect of the public realm and the continued complacent toleration of a pedestrian-hostile infrastructure in this car-dominated city.

Hijjas manages to produce 'modern' buildings that are accepted as uniquely Malaysian, without resort to the mindless bran tub pastiche that passes as national architectural identity. Often this means little more than putting brightly coloured, funny shaped roofs on otherwise bland Modernist blocks. More dignified options include scaling up the traditional Malay house roof or adopting inflated forms of revered cultural artifacts. This has been taken to extreme in the designs of the National Library and the National Theatre which is soon to be opened. The architects of each claim to have drawn inspiration from different forms of traditional Malay headgear, while the new National Gallery employs an oversized traditional Malay house roof, said to resemble a 'suckling elephant'.

At the extreme 'nationalist' end is the Prime Minister's Office in the new administrative capital of Putrajaya. This folie de grandeur, worthy of the late Nicolae Ceausescu, suggests that if foreign influences are inevitable, the hegemony of neoclassicism is a more acceptable expression of national aspiration than the feared hegemony of Western Modernism.

No office block in Malaysia can be marketed without the tag 'intelligent building'. In truth virtually all of these buildings are stupid, or at least not smart, and the intelligent management systems do little to compensate for these deficiencies. An indigenous and truly intelligent building type is ironically the traditional Malay house. In his many distinctive timber house designs, local architect Jimmy Lim shows that an understanding of the techniques for combating the hot, humid Malaysian climate is the contribution the Malay house can make to contemporary design, not the facile exploitation of its roof form.

In a city that is home to the tallest building in the world, small is particularly beautiful. Nestling between the twin towers is Kuala Lumpur's tiny new concert hall, also designed by Cesar Pelli. This confection defies categorization, beyond Tivoliesque and delightful. Similarly, John Bulcock's regional HQ for the Danish pharmaceutical company Novo Nordisk is good old-fashioned modern architecture, in the functional tradition. Brilliant in concept and elegant in detail, the building is devoid of any obvious Malaysian or even Danish stylistic references.

Condominiums were the staple of boom time developments and the excuse for some of the City's grosser architectural excesses. In contrast, the cool sophistication of the modest Dawntree Damai Suria, designed by Eric Parry and his Malaysian ex-student, Chris Wong, is a model of intelligent exploitation of a small inner city site. The Dialogue house in Putrajaya, is also a Malaysian/European collaboration; between AA graduates Frank Ling and Pilar Gonzales-Herraiz. A wonderful, shameless, gaudy piece of deconstruction that brazenly cocks a snook at the pompous values of its more celebrated neighbours. Whether or not any of these buildings contribute to the Government's desire for national identity, all would be valued by most cities around the world as adding to the quality of the built environment, and each, one may be sure, will be cited by the next generation of Malaysian politicians as examples of the country's fine architectural heritage.

Bob Giles is a British architect who practises in Kuala Lumpur