Artist Juno Shen has built a Song dynasty teahouse for today’s New Yorkers

For much of human history, seasonal changes have inspired behavioural ones, altering our biological rhythms and brain chemistry, and affecting the way we eat, conserve energy and sleep. Today, in modern times, much of this happens unconsciously, fading into the background as we embrace outdoor temperature changes with our wardrobe choices and suffer from bouts of seasonal allergies or seasonal depression. Beijing-born, Brooklyn-based artist Juno Shen suffered through many seasons before a bad health scare led her to ask: how did we all get here in the first place, labouring away in our built environment day after day at the mercy of the constant stress and stimulants that come with living in big cities? Her latest project, a Chinese teahouse called Soft Hours, is an ode to slow living and a time before industrialisation and public infrastructure forced much of humanity indoors, changing our relationship with the outdoor environment and the passage of time. “I really dug into how ancient people lived with the seasons,” Shen says of how Soft Hours came to life on a tiny corner in the Lower East Side. She was inspired by the Song dynasty in particular, a period in which Chinese arts, culture and intellectuals flourished while paying close attention to the influence of nature. “In China we have 24 solar terms which change every two weeks, and we drink seasonal ingredients. For example, you shouldn’t be drinking matcha all year long because it’s the freshest tea possible. It’s really cooling for you, so if you’re drinking it during winter or colder months, it’s going to bring even more coolness to your body, which is not good.” Clearly, Shen imagined Soft Hours as a “retreat” for New Yorkers. Using “wood and a lot of natural textures”, she says, the space is designed to look peaceful and refined, largely inspired by classical Chinese gardens in Suzhou and Hangzhou. “It’s built around a very specific reference point, which is a Song [dynasty] literati’s mountain retreat, like a little hideaway but translated for a New York context.” In a city starved for space where “the shop is all the way to the street”, Shen says she made a conscious choice to sacrifice extra square footage just to push the facade in, “to make it really look like ancient Chinese architecture … with exposed wood beams and a little foyer”. Shen first rose to fame with her work as a neon artist, her vivid glass sculptures earning mentions in publications like The Cut and Vogue. It was the slow, concentrated act of bending and shaping fluorescent glass to one’s will – not too far off from the considered approach to sipping and enjoying tea that Shen is advocating – which helped her overcome her struggles with seasonal affective disorder (SAD), commonly associated with the impact of sunlight, or lack thereof, on circadian rhythms. She therefore understood the role natural light would play in making Soft Hours feel like a safe haven – somewhere passers-by would inevitably be drawn to and end up staying a little while. “There’s this design philosophy called yi bu huan jing, which means you step away and the scene changes,” Shen explains, describing how scenery shifts as the eye travels. “It’s not like Blue Bottle or Starbucks where they have floor-to-ceiling windows. You see the whole shop, what it looks like, from the outside. That’s why we have a little flower[-shaped] window, so you get to peek in. With the southern light coming in, the window will basically act like a giant lightbox to diffuse the light, to soften the whole environment inside.” From little confections inspired by those once eaten by Song literati, to “super, super skinny” straws, Shen says every little aspect of the Soft Hours experience is designed to force people to slow down, meaning “no matter how rushed you are, you have to savour it”. And though time is a luxury few of us sitting at desks and staring at computer screens eight hours a day feel we can afford, Shen points out how even the simplest and smallest of lifestyle changes can make a big impact on one’s health. Beyond the meditative qualities of drinking tea, there are real medicinal benefits, too. “The longer you age a tea, the more medicinal it becomes,” she explains. “We’re selling healing teas for colds and digestion.” In that sense, Soft Hours isn’t just selling a singular product, but rather a philosophy. “In my friend circle, I’ve been preaching and teaching people about traditional Chinese [medicine] doctors,” she quips. Soft Hours’ tea programme offers five different kinds of tea organised, according to the TCM practice, from light and cooling (jasmine) to warm and full-bodied (puer). It’s a stark contrast from the craze for Japanese matcha, which Shen sees as more about the performance of preparing it rather than the act of drinking. “The way people consume it, it’s still more of a commercial product,” she adds. “Song dynasty tea is a lifestyle and refinement activity. All the matcha places are about the whisking.” Shen hopes Soft Hours will encourage people to prioritise practice over performance when it comes to achieving a healthy lifestyle, developing better habits and embracing a more leisurely pace of life. She laments how performative society has become, obsessed with showing off quick results rather than putting in the work to make meaningful results that last. “All the biohacking people now, they find one trend and they just erratically change their lifestyle into keto or macro [diets],” she adds. “You cannot eat the same thing, chicken or broccoli or beef, every day for the whole year. You have to adjust with the seasons.” The opening of Soft Hours also comes at an interesting juncture, as Gen Z shows renewed interest in third spaces for community gatherings, and “Chinamaxxing” has taken the world by storm. Shen pauses to contemplate what that means for the future of her creative vision. She has spent her entire career platforming Chinese culture, and wants to ensure people don’t just look at it as a passing trend, but rather a cherished way of living that represents thousands of years of history. Much as the Song literati once spent their hours studying nature and pouring their energy into the most minute of passions, Shen has laboured day and night to bring this space to life, longing for those days when, as she says, “people really invested their time in living”.