Commoncraft draws on “beauty in imperfection” for New York cafe
CategoriesInterior Design

Commoncraft draws on “beauty in imperfection” for New York cafe

Distressed concrete, rowlock bricks and worn plasterwork create an intentionally unfinished appearance at this cafe in New York City’s East Village neighbourhood, designed by Brooklyn studio Commoncraft.

For its expansion into Manhattan, New Jersey-based Kuppi Coffee Company secured a 350-square-foot space on bustling St Marks Place – its second location.

Cafe with concrete walls, ceiling and floorCafe with concrete walls, ceiling and floor
Textured concrete plaster envelops the interior of Kuppi Cafe in the East Village

The compact interior has just enough space for a customer area and the cafe counter, plus a prep area and a WC for staff at the back.

Commoncraft approached the front-of-house space with an ethos akin to wabi-sabi, the Japanese art of “flawed beauty”.

Cafe counter faced with rowlock-course bricksCafe counter faced with rowlock-course bricks
Commoncraft chose materials for the space that appear purposefully rough and unfinished

“Employing a range of rough and raw materials, Commoncraft’s design of Kuppi Cafe seeks out the beauty in imperfection,” said the studio, which was founded by Zach Cohen and Tony-Saba Shiber.

Textured concrete plaster curves up from two perpendicular walls and over the ceiling, enveloping the room together with the concrete floor.

Concrete interior with small brick bench against a wallConcrete interior with small brick bench against a wall
The compact space features a small bench for customers awaiting their orders

Where these walls meet, a vertical element is wrapped in bluish plaster that’s peeling away to reveal a whitewash beneath.

The Kuppi logo is applied faintly at the top, and stainless-steel shelves for displaying merchandise are cut into part of the pillar’s corner.

Brick cafe counter facing a glass facadeBrick cafe counter facing a glass facade
The cafe counter is faced in bricks stacked on their sides to expose their “guts”

Zones for customer interaction – including the service counter and a small bench – are defined by terracotta bricks, which are stacked on their sides in rowlock courses “to expose their core and mortar ‘guts’.”

“Each terracotta volume is terminated by a course of cut bricks, further revealing the rough, imperfect cores,” Commoncraft said.

In such a compact space, the designers have ensured that their concept carries through each of the cafe’s elements.

“The material honesty of the space is further reinforced by a number of small details,” said Commoncraft.

A corner element is wrapped in bluish plasterA corner element is wrapped in bluish plaster
A corner element is wrapped in bluish plaster that’s distressed to reveal a whitewash underneath

These include floating stainless steel shelves behind the counter, a freestanding glass splash guard for baked goods and spherical concrete pendant lights suspended at different heights above the bench.

The cafe is highly visible from the high-traffic street through its fully glazed facade.

A counter terminated by a course of cut bricks, with a glass enclosure for pastries on topA counter terminated by a course of cut bricks, with a glass enclosure for pastries on top
The counter is terminated by a course of cut bricks

New York City is home to thousands of cafes and coffee shops, including many independent establishments with unique interiors intended to entice customers inside.

Among them is another Commoncraft project: a Williamsburg eatery named Gertie designed as a playful tribute to the owner’s grandmother.

The photography is by Andrew Fu.


Project credits:

Client: Kuppi Coffee Company (Kevin and Vivian Kim)
Architecture and interior design: Commoncraft
Plumbing engineer: Alan R Schwartz
General contractor: LTI Construction Corp

Reference

Wabi-Sabi: Why Architects Should Discover the Art of Imperfection
CategoriesArchitecture

Wabi-Sabi: Why Architects Should Discover the Art of Imperfection

The latest edition of “Architizer: The World’s Best Architecture” — a stunning, hardbound book celebrating the most inspiring contemporary architecture from around the globe — is now available. Order your copy today.  

There is a crack in everything / That’s how the light gets in
Leonard Cohen

The most memorable buildings are not always the most stunning ones. A bit of awkwardness — clunkiness even — can help a building stick in the mind, much like a crooked nose or a lazy eye can give a human face “character.” There is a Japanese term for this idea: wabi-sabi. The Random House Unabridged Dictionary defines wabi-sabi as an aesthetic attitude “which delights in the tarnish on an ancient silver bowl and the old uneven cobblestones.” Wabi-sabi is not the valorization of ugliness but of beautiful objects that seem to approach perfection, only then to veer away from it at the last moment. Perhaps in this way, they signal that they belong to the world of things and not ideas. 

Wabi-sabi is precisely what AI-generated designs will always lack. It is also what is missing from Brasilia, the immaculate, centrally planned capital city of Brazil that people famously hate living in because it seems too sterile. In fact, I would argue that it was precisely a lack of wabi-sabi that doomed the International Style, opening the way for postmodernists to restore decorative motifs, whimsy and weirdness of various kinds to their designs. 

You can’t bottle wabi-sabi though. Just because one intends to lend their building a charming sense of imperfection doesn’t mean one will succeed. In fact, it is perhaps not advisable to intend to create such an effect. Think back to the archetypal examples of wabi-sabi: a tarnished bowl, uneven cobblestones. These details simply emerged organically, and they remain as an index of the object’s contact with the world. 

The Kaleidoscope by Inrestudio, Quang Binh Province, Vietnam. Note the dramatically scaled and off-kilter roof.

Nevertheless, some new buildings do achieve a sense of wabi-sabi, a charming awkwardness. And I think they achieve this effect by working with the environment, seeking neither a pure functionalism nor a dramatic ornamental scheme. One building that inhabits this zone is The Kaleidoscope, a mixed-use workplace and residential studio in central Vietnam designed by the firm Inrestudio under the direction of lead architect Kosuke Nishijima.

The Kaleidoscope, which was Jury Winner in the 11th Annual A+Awards’ Office – Low-Rise category, makes a strong impression when one encounters it in the forests of Vietnam, wedged between a forested hill and the sea. Relatively small (two stories, 3,150 square feet) but sturdy, it at first appears to be a kind of squat brutalist fortress, perhaps some sort of municipal building or outpost for forest rangers. But then one notices the roof – heavy, sculptural,and off-centered, with dramatic eaves that shade the trunk of the building like a mushroom cap. Walking around the building, one then notices the perforated ventilation blocks and, finally, the outside of a white spiral staircase. The design elements all work together nicely but not cleanly. There is a sense of bricolage, of different ideas pieced together according to a design that is idiosyncratic but not random. 

The Kaleidoscope by Inrestudio, Quang Binh Province, Vietnam

When one looks into the rationale behind this beautiful roof, one learns that it indeed has a function tied to the harsh tropical climate of central Vietnam. “Resembling a “nón lá”, a traditional farmer’s hat of Vietnam, a large conical roof casts shadows on the entire building,” explains Inrestudio. “The ventilated cavity between the double layered roof functions as a natural heat insulator against the sunlight, while the deep eaves enable the central space’s windows to remain open even during the rains. The main function of the building is placed at the center of a floating slab, which keeps the space protected from the ground moisture.”

So this is the purpose of the squat Brutalist fortress – to allow individuals to experience fresh air even during typhoons. The perforated walls enhance this relationship to the outdoors. As the sun moves across the sky, the shadows cast inside the building change, much like the patterns of a kaleidoscope change when the end is rotated. 

The Kaleidoscope by Inrestudio, Quang Binh Province, Vietnam

“Perforated ventilation blocks are common building elements in tropical regions, not only to moderate environmental factors but also casting impressive light patterns,” explains Inrestudio. “Custom precast ventilation blocks compose the outer surfaces of the triangular volumes to provide privacy to the inner rooms. These fiber-reinforced concrete blocks have larger dimensions than usual, and match the grand scale of the surrounding backdrop.”

The Kaleidoscope by Inrestudio, Quang Binh Province, Vietnam | Interior view of perforated ventilation block.

The intended use of this building is interesting as well. It is both a living and working space. Located near a factory in a relatively remote area of Vietnam, the building houses offices on the lower level and residences above. Inrestudio explains that they placed a large emphasis on natural light in their design in order to highlight the transition from day to night, when the function of the building will shift from working to living. 

Notre Dame du Haut, nicknamed Ronchamp Chapel, is one of Le Corbusier’s most loved buildings. Photo by Ricardo Gomez Angel on Unsplash

Wabi-sabi is a Japanese term, but the idea has been embraced by Westerners as well – even those one wouldn’t expect. Le Corbusier, for instance, is remembered as the archon of high modernism, drawing up wicked plans to flatten Paris to make room for concrete high rises. And yet, the building he is best remembered for looks a lot like The Kaleidoscope. In fact, it would be hard for me to believe that Inrestudio did not have the Ronchamp Chapel in mind when they designed The Kaleidoscope. 

Completed in 1954, near the end of his career, Ronchamp Chapel is a masterpiece that seems to bear little resemblance to the harsh symmetries of Corbusier’s earlier buildings. It replaced a stone chapel that had been destroyed in the second world war, and one gets the impression that Corbu understood that his design should preserve some of the gentleness, or wabi-sabi, of the original, even though his design was entirely original. Like the Kaleidoscope, its greatest features are its sculptural roof, which seems to float above the structure, and the way it draws in natural light in the interior. In the case of Ronchamp Chapel, this is done through a charming array of stained glass windows – arranged in an irregular pattern of course. 

Interior view of Ronchamp Chapel. Note the slight gap at the roof line, which lets in a crack of sunlight. Photo by Richard Hedrick on Unsplash

Like The Kaleidoscope, Ronchamp Chapel is possessed of a humble beauty that is easy to relate to. It might be an odd building, but it is not unserious of self-consciously quirky. Above all, it is very much itself. I hope to see more buildings designed in this mode in the coming years.

The latest edition of “Architizer: The World’s Best Architecture” — a stunning, hardbound book celebrating the most inspiring contemporary architecture from around the globe — is now available. Order your copy today.  

Reference