Copy
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif
This newsletter may be cut short by your email program. View it in full
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif
Saturday, February 1, 2020
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif
Suggestions for your senses,
every Saturday at 9 a.m.
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif
SPONSORED BY
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif

Good morning.

This week, we explore Los Angeles with French expat and bon vivant Emilien Crespo, ponder the ancient Japanese micro-season calendar through the app 72 Seasons, talk food with Brooklyn-based design duo Chen Chen & Kai Williams, discern the sound secret behind La Mer’s “miracle broth,” and take note of artful incense by Shoyeido.

249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif
c0a5b558-f175-41b1-8fdd-8742f22f9a80.jpg
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif
See
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif
Secret Gems
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif
Illustration: Clara Mari
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif

What Los Angeles lacks in density, it delivers in latitude: miles of freeway and a stunning array of neighborhoods, each as large and diverse as a mini city. The experience can be overwhelming, even puzzling, for visitors not accustomed to tackling a metropolis of such a scale. “People come with so many clichés, and I think L.A. suffers for it,” says cultural strategist and Purple editor-at-large Emilien Crespo, a veritable bon vivant, French expat, and Angeleno of more than 10 years. “It’s a tough city, it’s not easy to navigate—but it’s so full of secret gems.” 

For his first book, Soul of Los Angeles (Jonglez Publishing), Crespo shares a list of 30 adventures (chosen from 1,000) for locals and visitors alike in his adopted hometown. His picks include a bit of everything the city has to offer—art, architecture, film, sights, shopping, food, and more, including interviews with locals such as Jonathan Gold, the late Los Angeles Times Pulitzer Prize–winning food critic, and Sqirl’s Jessica Koslow. There’s even a gem to be found in the tourist trap of Hollywood, at the historic Musso and Frank’s Grill, a 100-year-old institution where the martinis are stiff and “legendary red booths and wooden panels make you feel like you’re entering a time machine, a relic of a bygone era.” The book is the latest in a series that includes guides to Tokyo, Venice, and Berlin—and we hear a New York City guide, authored by travel and food writer Tarajia Morrell, is coming next.

249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif
02817334-c281-4083-8c48-cc1cd3aab3d1.jpg
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif
Touch
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif
Shifting Seasons
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif
Courtesy Hina Tanaka
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif

Most would associate February with the dead of winter—long past the joy of the holiday season, yet far enough from April to make us yearn for the warmth of spring. There are only four seasons to anticipate each year, at least in the Western world, but the ancient Japanese lunar calendar, which follows the waxing and waning of the moon, counts many more: 72, to be exact, as we’ve pleasantly discovered in the recently launched app 72 Seasons. Updated every five days, the average length of each micro-season, the app shares more about this cultural tradition, along with haikus, observations on the natural world, seasonal phrases and activities, and the best ingredients to eat and cook at a given time of year. We’re currently in the micro-season of “Major Cold”—though we didn’t need it to tell us that, brrr!—which is set to continue for the next few days. This is the peak season for red seabream, celery, burdock root, as well as when, with spring on the way, “the chicken begins to lay her eggs.”

249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif
SPONSORED BY
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif
ac88f66b-0c77-4443-b441-7965dbd27806.jpg
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif
Taste
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif
Playing With Food
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif
Courtesy Chen Chen & Kai Williams
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif

Process, materiality, and a sense of playfulness often figure into the work of designers Chen Chen and Kai Williams. As does a love of food: When not making furniture or products, the Brooklyn-based duo are known to stage intricate food installations involving custom machinery, from an industrial Cheeto machine to a dry-ice cocktail fountain, and even a “satanic hot dog spit.” Here, they tell us how designing food and objects are more similar than we think.

When did you guys start toying with food? Does inspiration strike when you’re hungry and in the studio?

Chen: With most of our practice, we try to incorporate a sort of nonserious vibe to things. Even then, there are constraints of making stuff for the luxury design market—there’s a level of seriousness that has to be incorporated into it. Making food is definitely not our core business, and part of the fun and appeal of it is that it’s so impermanent. 

Williams: It’s a wonderful challenge to see what you can make out of what you have. We’re always trying to experiment with materials, and what’s wonderful about these food projects is the immediacy. It makes everything more approachable, and I think it really frees people to look at it in a different way. A couple of years ago, we also used to produce these planters that were cast-cement in the shape of fruits. And the process for that is very much like making food: you’re mixing a dry mix, trying to achieve a specific consistency. 

What’s interesting is that you’re using industrial design tools to sort of poke fun at the industrial food complex—but in this performative and ad hoc way, tinkering with machines. 

Chen: Yeah. There’s also this interplay between industrial design and food—like, for example, I think band saws, which are a ubiquitous woodworking tool, were originally invented for slaughterhouses. So, for us, the approach is still very process-based for the food projects. Our Cheeto machine works in the same way as an injection molder: you’re essentially putting pellets (in this case, cornmeal) into a hopper. It gets compressed and heated up, and then comes out of an extruder. A lot of these things really come from an interest in how that product is made. There are always these parallels between the production of hard goods, and these food-production methods. It’s also just fun to hack to equipment.

Williams: A cool thing that we learned in school was that the earliest industrial designers that were thought of as such worked in the food industry because they were designing equipment that made it safer and just better to produce. 

Chen: That’s basically what [our Cold Cuts coasters] were inspired by—we were at the deli counter, like, watching them slice things. And originally our concept for that design was that we’d have these logs of material and then, at the point of purchase, we could slice them for people. Although, ultimately, that part didn’t pan out, because it was so messy. [Laughs]

There’s also a performative aspect to your work. I recall seeing a video of you both making one very, very long Cheeto that was the length of an entire loft.

Chen: I once saw somebody doing this in China, just on the side of the road. These guys had a machine, and were making Cheetos and selling bags of them to people on the street. It was something that inspired so much joy—but it’s also just how Cheetos are made. A super-long Cheeto is just what it is, if you don’t cut it up. For a lot of the things we do, we’re just taking very commonplace things and showing [them] to people in a way that allows them to see it for what it is, and the real miracle that these things are.

Williams: What we actually wanted to do with the long Cheeto was have it go out the window, down to street level, and into someone’s mouth. [Laughs] But it was raining that day, so it got a little soggy.

249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif
d29f0557-b414-4fea-82c5-a15d9da127ac.jpg
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif
Hear
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif
Subtle Soundwaves
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif
Photo: Andrew Zuckerman
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif

The luxury skincare line La Mer is known for plenty of things—most notably, its hype and hefty price tag: A single jar of its signature Crème de la Mer moisturizing cream runs for $325 (for 2 ounces) and goes up to $2,400 (for 16.5 ounces). Apparently, there’s even a secondary market for hawking empty La Mer jars, an LOL for aspirational shopping and late capitalism if there ever was one. But what’s a month’s worth of rent, after all, compared to the cost of living in your own visage? So the brand’s diehard cult following—celebrities from Kim Kardashian to Kevin Hart are among the converted—would have you wonder. 
 
La Mer, for its part, markets the mystique of its product around a proprietary “miracle broth.” Developed by German aerospace physicist Max Huber over the course of 12 years and many experiments in the lab, its main ingredient is a nutrient-rich seaweed that undergoes a slow-fermentation process for three months. Scientists have explored sonochemistry—a branch of study that aims to understand the effect sound waves can have on liquid—for nearly 100 years, and audio exposure to a special soundtrack is said to be an important part of Huber’s formula. It’s an origin story that’s led to its fair share of myths and theories, but as it turns out, it’s completely true. According to The Cut, each batch of miracle broth is played a loop of recordings that “sounds kind of like this YouTube video of a stomach gurgling loudly.”

249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif
baead8ed-590e-4c70-8193-fb78540a1493.jpg
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif
Smell
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif
Incense Dispense
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif
Photo: Andrew Zuckerman
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif

The earliest recorded uses of incense in Japan date back to 595 A.D., around the same time Buddhism arrived to the country, when a piece of fragrant driftwood landed upon the shores of Awaji Island. To the delight of locals, it smelled wonderful when burned. One of the country’s oldest purveyors of quality scents, the Kyoto-based company Shoyeido has been making traditional Japanese stick incense since 1705—though you wouldn’t be able to tell from the impeccable packaging. We’re particularly fans of the multi-colored Horin assortment packs that are nearly as compact as a matchbox, and as visually pleasing as a fresh set of pastels. It’s the small details that make it a treat for the eyes as well as the nose, and contribute to what the Japanese call mon-koh, a multisensory and ceremonial appreciation that translates to “listening to incense.”

249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif
6e1482bb-d358-4d02-bf91-1afb9922204a.gif
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif

Until next week...

Today’s email was written by Aileen Kwun

Editor: Spencer Bailey
Creative Director: Andrew Zuckerman
Producer: Mike Lala

Enjoying The Slowdown? Forward to a friend!
If a friend forwarded it to you, subscribe to receive future newsletters.

Send us sense suggestions, collaboration ideas, or general feedback at newsletter@slowdownmedia.com

Not enjoying it? No worries. Click here to unsubscribe.

Click here to update your profile.

The Slowdown | 508 West 26th Street, 7A | New York, NY 10001 | United States

6e1482bb-d358-4d02-bf91-1afb9922204a.gif
249ce146-f022-4409-8b54-ec9b3c7d201e.gif