It’s clear that Terry Wu is used to being the one who asks the questions. By the time we’re ready to order he already knows: how my parents met, where I grew up, who is in my family, and what languages I speak. No, I haven’t lost control of the interview – by the same point I know his wife’s profession (nephrologist), that he doesn’t get stressed or nervous (something I initially find difficult to believe), and how he balances what seems to be an impossible number of family, career and arts commitments (“I do whatever is in front of me at any given time”).
This year Terry Wu has stepped into the role of chair of ACCA. Credit: Justin McManus In between the direct answers, I also learn that the Melbourne plastic surgeon doesn’t take the easy path through a conversation. He pushes back on things like my categorisation of his time management as “compartmentalisation”, unwilling to let an imperfect comment or idea slip by.
Somehow, none of this feels like an interrogation for either of us. The conversation is immediately easy and friendly, but free of fluff. We’re at Entrecote , a French restaurant in Prahan, and after we spend two minutes in silence as we both study the menu intensely, we realise we’ve settled on the same entree and main: mussels and steak.
I quickly switch one of my dishes. “That was my second choice!” he exclaims, so we decide to share. We’re meeting not because of Wu’s medical career, but because of his work in the arts, which.