Aman Kyoto

A collector of kimono sashes once planned a museum in the woods on Kyoto’s northwestern edge. The museum never opened, but the stone paths and terraces stayed. By the time Aman Kyoto arrived in 2019, the moss had made itself quite at home.

Kerry Hill Architects slipped low, dark timber pavilions between the trees. In a Susuki room, the tea table sits low beside a wall of glass. From a floor cushion, the view is mostly trunks and leaves, with scarcely another window in sight. Ask about the garden and a member of the team that tends it can take you along the paths. There’s a particular pleasure in seeing a place with someone who knows it well enough to notice what changed last week.

By dusk, a mossy boulder has the best seat by the fire on the Living Pavilion terrace. The woods darken and the windows turn amber. At Taka-An, chef Shinichiro Takagi takes his cues from the 24 solar terms, each lasting roughly a fortnight. Autumn may be an adequate word for the view from the terrace. In the kitchen, it leaves rather a lot to be decided.

Farther along the stone path, in the Senkutsu tea house, a practitioner prepares matcha beside a hearth set into the tatami. The light comes through paper screens. Next to the hanging scroll, a bamboo vessel holds a few stems, one leaning well clear of the others.

By morning, there’s light in the trees again, a deep cypress bath and a perfectly good excuse to have the first cup of tea on the floor.