"Nagi," meaning "calm after the storm," embodies the essence of this sanctuary nestled at the intersection of urban vibrancy and natural serenity on Binjiang Avenue, along the Huangpu River in Shanghai. It is an omakase place designed to rediscover stillness beyond the city's clamor.
A winding bluestone path leads through secluded woods to a facade of wooden lattices and glowing paper screens. Inside, light filters through textured glass bricks, casting ripple-like shadows that guide the eye to the "Nagi" sign, carved into translucent white jade.
The journey flows past a recessed vignette and curved black walls into a dimly lit hallway. Here, Hasegawa Tōhaku’s Shorinzubyoubu (pine trees) unfolds across custom rice paper glass screens. Achieving the perfect, ethereal glow required a rigorous process: the design team experimented with over 100 different varieties of paper before selecting the final combination. Ultimately, three distinct layers of rice paper were laminated within the glass, creating a depth that allows the dry-brushed pine branches to feel animated by the shifting light.
Below, black marble floors transition from stillness to motion, reflecting the pine shadows like hidden ripples on water.
In the Itamae area, sweeping curved panels envelop guests like closed palms, focusing all attention on the chef’s stage. Lattice pendant lights blend ambient glow with focused illumination on the hinoki counter, ensuring the culinary performance remains the protagonist.
Throughout the space, shifts are softened by arcs and the interplay of light and shadow. From the water-patterned entrance to the 3D curves of the dining room, the design weaves a silent gradient between glow and gloom. These subtle curves echo the warmth of hands shaping sushi—emerging with light, fading with shadow.