A Japanese Oasis Grows in Brooklyn

There’s a small wooden sign on the wall before you enter Chowa Library that lays down a few ground rules—an unorthodox mission statement. 

NO PHOTOS

NO VIRAL

NO BUZZ

NO POLITICS

NO KISS ASS 

NO WASTE

NO SHOES

NO RINGS

NO FOOD

YES TEA

NO WORRIES

In the basement level of a typical Brooklyn industrial warehouse, we slip off our shoes and duck into a room that could have been—and in some ways has been—airlifted over from old Kyoto. “Chowa means ‘pursuit of harmony,’ in Japanese,” says Ray Suzuki who, along with his friend Yudai Kanayama, opened the space last summer. Ray is a multi-disciplinary designer and Yudai, who we’ve known for several years, is the busy man behind several restaurants and his own construction business. 

It’s a library, a Japanese design showroom, a bit of an education centre and—an increasingly rare concept these days—a place to put away your phone for a while and take in some beautiful objects and new ideas. Despite the potentially intimidating philosophy on the wall outside, Ray and Yudai are the epitome of gracious hosts. “We share this specific ambition of combining the essence of both traditional Japanese culture and the contemporary creative communities in New York,” says Ray, leading us across a floor made from Sri Lankan kumbuk wood (rare), and up into a serene loft space. 

“The entry is the same exact configuration of a tea house in Kyoto,” says Ray. “You have to bend down to go inside. Even if you are a politically significant person, you still have to show respect to be inside a tea room and connect through the culture of tea. Here, it’s all about different cultures, different ideas, different eras, and different crafts meeting together in one space.”

“You can see that we’re using this super rare wood on the floor,” says Yudai, “but combining it with this messed up Brooklyn warehouse ceiling. We’re hoping to look at this idea of value and price. That’s also the concept of this space.” There are also modular shelving units, rare books, hand-made speakers and tiny chairs. All of it for sale.

If you want to visit, there’s a $25 fee for a two-hour duration, with 60 percent of the money being donated to craft organisations back in Japan. If you’re more than 15 minutes late, you’ll be refunded and politely asked not to return. “It’s a very specific culture from Japan,” says Yudai. “Some people think that we’re crazy, but… okay, maybe we are, but that’s how we want it to be. Everyone needs to learn to respect each other’s time. We’re not trying to be difficult.” 

A slither of window offers up a faint glimpse of the street-level world outside, harried New York feet passing by. Occasionally, people will pause and lean down to see what on earth a small oasis of Japanese craft and heritage is doing there. “You can see the busy world of Bushwick outside,” says Ray, “and yet you still feel the comfort of being psychically separated from that world.”

Ray started Chowa as a brand that designs traditional kiri-bako boxes, originally used in tea ceremonies; a concept that he’s since applied to other packaging, furniture and, in a way, an entire library. “We could build this entire room for someone,” says Yudai, casually. “We’ve actually had some people visit who want us to make an entire room, or library, like this for their house in Upstate New York or wherever. We can do that.”

“Originally we wanted to build it and then not let anyone in,” adds Yudai with a wry smile, “but our investors didn’t like that idea.”

“We know what we're doing,” he adds. “This is our way of getting people to experience a specific vision, maybe something a little bit different to what they’re used to. It’s something that we have both put a lot of time and thought into. 

“We don't want people to just come in, take a photo and leave.”