@aman was founded in 1988 by Adrian Zecha, a hotelier who believed luxury should feel residential, not theatrical. His first project, Amanpuri in Phuket, set the tone: discreet architecture, generous space, and an absence of visual noise.
The model was simple. Find exceptional locations, work with local materials, and design buildings that sit quietly within their surroundings. No branding, no grand entrances, no obvious signals of status.
As the brand expanded into cities, deserts and historic buildings, the approach stayed consistent. Whether in Tokyo, Venice or Utah, Aman properties follow the same logic — low density, controlled design, and a strong sense of privacy.
Aman’s reputation has been built less on marketing and more on consistency. It attracts a certain type of traveller, and tends to keep them.
- Jiri Archive
@a24 is an independent film and television studio founded in 2012 in New York.
The name comes from the A24 motorway in Italy, where one of the founders was driving when the idea for the company came up.
A24 started as a film distributor, then expanded into producing and financing films and TV series.
They focus on director-led projects, smaller budgets, and minimal creative interference.
Some notable works they produced include:
Moonlight, Lady Bird, Hereditary, Midsommar, The Lighthouse, Uncut Gems, Everything Everywhere All at Once, and the television series Euphoria.
- Jiri Archive
Mark Rothko was a Latvian-born artist who became one of the most influential figures in 20th-century abstraction. Born Marcus Rothkowitz in 1903, he emigrated to the United States as a child and later changed his name to Mark Rothko.
He helped pioneer Color Field Painting, creating large, meditative expanses of color meant to be experienced slowly and up close. Works like No. 61 (Rust and Blue), Orange, Red, Yellow, and No. 14, 1960 are among his most iconic — paintings that appear simple at first, but deepen the longer you sit with them.
Rothko believed that naming things limits how they are felt. That’s why many of his works avoid descriptive titles, using only numbers or dates. His colors often sit between definitions — not quite red, not quite purple — capturing emotions that are difficult to name. In this sense, Rothko wasn’t painting color itself, but what exists beyond language: silence, tension, and human feeling.
His career blossomed in the 1950s, and today his works sell for tens of millions at auction. He also designed the Rothko Chapel in Houston, a space created not as a gallery, but as a place for quiet reflection. Despite his success, his life ended tragically in 1970.
- Jiri Archive
Celebration by Vincent Vangogh | Blue Nude by Picasso | Celebration by Monet | Silence Living In Houses by Henri Matisse | Thomas Bossard | Christmas In Madison Square Garden by Paul Cornoyer | The Kiss by Picasso
- Jiri Archive
Long before feeds and algorithms, The New Yorker @newyorkermag understood design.
Say less, choose carefully, and let the work last.
Illustration over spectacle, consistency over reinvention.
It’s a reminder that taste is built slowly, and that good design doesn’t need to explain itself.
- Jiri Archive
Daido Moriyama (森山大道)
A photographer who turned the streets into a restless diary.
Moriyama’s world is grainy, blurred, and beautifully imperfect — a language known as are-bure-boke (grainy-blurry-out of focus). Through high-contrast black and white, he captures the pulse of post-war Japan: neon nights, anonymous crowds, stray dogs, quiet alleys, and the unconscious rhythm of Shinjuku.
His images reject clarity in favour of sensation. They feel like memories — unstable, fleeting, half-dreamed. Moriyama doesn’t photograph what he sees; he photographs what it feels like to move through a city.
From Provoke magazine to the iconic Stray Dog, his work has shaped the visual language of modern street photography and continues to influence artists around the world.
A reminder that beauty often lives in the blur, the mistake, the noise.
— Jiri Archive
Maison Mystique sits quietly in Khao Yai — calm, considered, and intentionally slow.
The design is soft and restrained. Nothing tries too hard. Rooms feel personal, slightly moody, and lived-in in the best way. Light comes in gently, gardens spill around the spaces, and everything encourages you to stay a little longer than planned.
It’s not a place for big gestures or loud luxury. It’s for mornings with no agenda, wandering without direction, and appreciating how good space can make you feel.
A hotel you remember for the atmosphere, not the checklist.
@maisonmystique_hotel
- Jiri Archive
Kamasi Washington came into a lot of people’s lives through The Epic — a three-hour record that didn’t care about attention spans. It was bold, heavy, and patient. Choirs, long movements, silence, repetition. Music that felt closer to a statement than a release.
The Epic isn’t something you finish in one sitting just to say you did. You come back to it. You let parts of it grow on you. It rewards time.
If you’re new, start with Change of the Guard.
It sets the tone — ceremonial, confident, unhurried. The kind of track that makes you stop scrolling and actually listen.
Kamasi’s work reminds us that good taste isn’t about knowing more — it’s about slowing down enough to notice.
This is music for people who don’t mind sitting with something longer than usual.
— Jiri Archive
