It is a sunny Saturday morning in Los Angeles. I’ve driven across the city to a warehouse in Atwater Village, guided by the @wakawakainc post on Instagram. The large doors are already rolled up, and a friendly man greets me. Shin Okuda, whose studio, Waka Waka, this is, gestures towards his friends and collaborators, explaining, “I waka waka…I go many places.” Shin steers me through rows of chairs, stools, and tables, showcasing his craftsmanship. There is a clarity of composition and precision of production in all these works, and I am especially eager to see the teahouse towards the back wall.
All this time, Shin and Kristin’s son has been patiently bouncing a basketball. The boy has a game this morning, and his father is both chauffeur and booster. As they drive off, I buy a #5 t-shirt—a Waka Waka collaboration—because of its fabulous graphics and because today is Lunar New Year. On the drive home, what lingers is the unique design of the chairs with cylindrical backs, the minimalistic yet impactful presence of the teahouse, and the rhythmic sound of the bouncing basketball echoing in my mind.
Shin enthusiastically tells me about recent projects but nothing registers as much imaginative delight as Waka Waka House, Shin and Kristin’s collaborative long-term project: a fully-designed house-for-sharing in Japan. As he describes their “dream project” and its yet-to-be-realized possibilities—of location, renovation, mission—another dynamic community of making is already being shaped.
Our time in the teahouse is ending, and Shin mentions the noisy commotion of work outside—fork-lift repairs and his assistant’s persistent router. Despite the bustling surroundings, I remain focused on our conversation within the tranquil confines of the teahouse. As Shin responds to my bewilderment, he notes, “There would be no need to have the teahouse in a desert, where you could just take your tea and sit on a rock.” His words highlight the unique juxtaposition of our serene tea session amidst the bustling urban environment.
