THE RETURN OF THE LISTENING ROOM

Words by Alvin Wayne

Photography by Hoshi Joell

As someone whose home quite literally revolves around a DJ booth, I've long believed that music shapes the way we experience a space just as much as furniture, lighting, or architecture. Some of my favorite memories have happened around music, gathering with family, hosting friends for dinner, sharing playlists, or simply putting on a record and allowing it to set the mood for the night ahead.

Music has always had the power to transform a room.

It can energize a gathering, create intimacy between strangers, spark nostalgia, or transport us to another time entirely. A single song can bring back memories of a childhood home, a summer romance, or a moment we thought we'd forgotten. Few things are as deeply tied to emotion and memory as music. Yet despite having access to more music than any generation before us, many of us aren't truly listening.

Streaming platforms have made music available instantly and endlessly. We can access millions of songs with the touch of a screen. But somewhere along the way, music became background noise, something we consume while doing something else.

Today, a growing movement is asking us to reconsider that relationship.

For Brandon Rys Planco, music director at Port Sa'id and Good People Group, the difference begins with intention. "A true listening room isn't defined by expensive equipment," he says. "It's shaped by a deep understanding of how people emotionally, socially, and physically engage with music." Every decision, from the architecture and acoustics to the furniture, lighting, and hospitality, exists to deepen that relationship.

Across New York and cities around the world, listening rooms and listening bars are experiencing a resurgence. These carefully designed spaces invite people to slow down, gather, and engage with music as the main event rather than the backdrop. What may seem like a trend is part of a much larger cultural shift, one rooted in history, technology, design, and our growing desire for connection.


FROM JAPAN TO NEW YORK

The modern listening room can trace its origins back to Japan. Following World War II, imported jazz records became highly sought after throughout the country. Records were expensive, audio equipment was difficult to obtain, and many music lovers simply couldn't afford extensive collections or high-quality sound systems at home.


In response, a unique type of venue emerged: the jazz kissa.

Continue reading in print

Issue 004

The full story continues in this limited print edition.

Buy the print issue

Credits

PRODUCTION

Words by

Alvin Wayne

Photography

Hoshi Joell

ART.DESIGN.CULTURE.INTENTION.

ART.DESIGN.CULTURE.INTENTION.

ART.DESIGN.CULTURE.INTENTION.

THE RETURN OF THE LISTENING ROOM

Words by Alvin Wayne

Photography by Hoshi Joell

As someone whose home quite literally revolves around a DJ booth, I've long believed that music shapes the way we experience a space just as much as furniture, lighting, or architecture. Some of my favorite memories have happened around music, gathering with family, hosting friends for dinner, sharing playlists, or simply putting on a record and allowing it to set the mood for the night ahead.

Music has always had the power to transform a room.

It can energize a gathering, create intimacy between strangers, spark nostalgia, or transport us to another time entirely. A single song can bring back memories of a childhood home, a summer romance, or a moment we thought we'd forgotten. Few things are as deeply tied to emotion and memory as music. Yet despite having access to more music than any generation before us, many of us aren't truly listening.

Streaming platforms have made music available instantly and endlessly. We can access millions of songs with the touch of a screen. But somewhere along the way, music became background noise, something we consume while doing something else.

Today, a growing movement is asking us to reconsider that relationship.

For Brandon Rys Planco, music director at Port Sa'id and Good People Group, the difference begins with intention. "A true listening room isn't defined by expensive equipment," he says. "It's shaped by a deep understanding of how people emotionally, socially, and physically engage with music." Every decision, from the architecture and acoustics to the furniture, lighting, and hospitality, exists to deepen that relationship.

Across New York and cities around the world, listening rooms and listening bars are experiencing a resurgence. These carefully designed spaces invite people to slow down, gather, and engage with music as the main event rather than the backdrop. What may seem like a trend is part of a much larger cultural shift, one rooted in history, technology, design, and our growing desire for connection.


FROM JAPAN TO NEW YORK

The modern listening room can trace its origins back to Japan. Following World War II, imported jazz records became highly sought after throughout the country. Records were expensive, audio equipment was difficult to obtain, and many music lovers simply couldn't afford extensive collections or high-quality sound systems at home.


In response, a unique type of venue emerged: the jazz kissa.

Continue reading in print

Issue 004

The full story continues in this limited print edition.

Buy the print issue

Credits

PRODUCTION

Words by

Alvin Wayne

Photography

Hoshi Joell

ART.DESIGN.CULTURE.INTENTION.

ART.DESIGN.CULTURE.INTENTION.

ART.DESIGN.CULTURE.INTENTION.