In Gwangju, South Korea—a metropolitan city in the country's southwest corner—you can sip your latte among an obsessive collection of vintage Braun objects at the cafe-shop Monolabor. It is an especially ethereal space, fitting for a city with a name that includes the word Gwang, meaning "light."
Most of the objects in the space were produced during the decades-long run that German industrial designer Dieter Rams had with the company. There are coffee machines, stereo systems, analog clocks, tabletop fans, and dozens of miscellaneous others. The bulk of it is displayed on a meticulously curated shelf that runs the length of an entire wall. It is the Vitsoe 606 shelving system—designed by Rams, of course.
Lights, coffee, and Braun's PKG 5-81 Stereo-Combination system; Image courtesy of @monolabor.
Monolabor opened in 2019, and looks more akin to an art gallery than your typical cafe. The Monolabor team is unflinching in their concept and execution as a museum-like shrine to Braun and Rams. For a space so aggressively airy and bright white, it still feels full of personality in a way most cafes are not. It is not a part of the monotonous, global aesthetic that writer Kyle Chayka dubbed "AirSpace" in a popular 2016 piece for The Verge.
Since I started following Monolabor on Instagram, I have been introduced to numerous Braun pieces I had not seen before. There is the L2 speaker, designed by Rams in 1958 and one of the first speakers to be placed on top of a tubular metallic stand. (It's assumed to be a nod to Bauhaus architect and designer Marcel Breuer.) I discovered the HL70 desk fan, designed by Reinhold Weiss and Jurgen Greubel, a clever plastic object that looks more like a space-age gadget than a cooling device. A kaleidoscope of colorful KF 20 coffee machines appears on a bottom shelf in one photo, an especially revered Braun design that I had only previously seen in white or red. The architecture and design critic Alexandra Lange praised the simple machine in an essay on Rams' legacy for The New Yorker: "It had a smaller footprint and simpler lines than any electric machine on the market today." Monolabor has a whole lot of them.
The majority of the room is the famous Rams palette: white, black, metal, or wood. Color makes only a sporadic appearance in the designer's go-to shades of red, orange, and yellow.
A smattering of KF 20 coffee machines; Image courtesy of @monolabor.
While the work of Rams is the dominating theme, the designs of other big names also fill the space. Monolabor turns to Poul Henningsen's hanging PH 5 pendant and Verner Panton's Flowerpot lamp to light the room. There is a veritable world tour of chairs, including designs from Fritz Hansen, Egon Eiermann, and Giancarlo Piretti. You're rarely out of arm's reach of one of Rams' Vitsoe 621's tables.
Even if you have no intention of traveling to Gwangju, the shop is a worthy addition to your feed. The concept offers such a specific experience (digital or otherwise) that it feels almost maximalist in its own right. (Even if most of the decor was designed by someone who branded his creative philosophy as "less but better.") At a glance, there are easily over 100 Braun objects scattered throughout the space–most of it is for sale, too. Many coffee shops choose a monotonous and soulless existence, just design-y enough to seem hip but not so much as to put anyone off. Instead, Monolabor follows in the footsteps of its idol and opts to be one-of-one.
