Review: Ace Hotel Kyoto- a beating heart of cool and modernism in the middle of the former imperial capital
Ace Hotel Kyoto is more than just a place to sleep — it’s a cultural crossroads where Japanese tradition meets contemporary design without losing an ounce of warmth.
It was the 1st of August, late afternoon,. The journey from Tokyo had been a blur — two hours and a handful of minutes, the green countryside flickering past like a film reel. I’d arrived expecting something smaller, more provincial, the sort of place whose charm is served up on arrival: wooden houses leaning into narrow lanes, moss-soft temples in the shade, an almost meditative quiet.
I was wrong. Kyoto is not a small place. It’s not even a “smaller Tokyo.” It’s the seventh-largest city in Japan, home to nearly 1.5 million people, and it greets you not with stillness but with layers — the ancient and the ultra-modern pressed together in a complex weave. On paper, the city is a UNESCO wonderland: over 10,000 temples, 17 World Heritage sites (including Buddhist temples, Shinto shrines, and Nijo Castle), a thousand years of imperial history. But in reality, my first glimpse from the car window told me something else: this was a living, breathing city, in perpetual negotiation between its history and its future.
Kyoto Station itself is a statement — a vast glass-and-steel cathedral of transit — and the 10-minute Uber ride to my hotel felt like a fast-forward through time. Modern apartment blocks gave way to timber-fronted shops, gleaming department stores brushed shoulders with centuries-old teahouses, women in summer yukata crossed the street beside students in uniforms. Overhead, the electricity wires criss-crossed like the black ink strokes of an ukiyo-e woodblock print. Kyoto wasn’t going to hand me a perfect postcard; it was going to make me earn my moments.
I was here for one reason: the Ace Hotel Kyoto. I’d first heard of it in Conde Nast Traveller and earlier this year I met the hotel’s general manager, Shiho Ikeuchi, at ITB Berlin. Ace had taken a stand in the LGBTQ+ Pavilion, and Shiho, all warmth and quiet authority, invited me to experience their Kyoto flagship in person. It would be my first Ace stay, and — as I would discover — the brand’s first property in Asia.
“Kyoto in August is boiling,” Shiho warned with a smile as we met in the lobby. “It’s between mountains, so the heat stays in.” She was not exaggerating. Tokyo summers are hot; Kyoto summers are merciless. Here, portable fans, parasols, and cooling Biore body wipes aren’t luxuries — they’re survival tools.
Stepping into the Ace lobby was like entering another climate zone — cooler not just in temperature, but in attitude. The double-height space was a study in contrasts: timber lattice ceilings that echoed Kyoto’s traditional architecture, contemporary art installations, industrial concrete softened with warm textiles and leafy plants. It reminded me of the 25hours Hotels in Dubai, where design is both playful and purposeful, but here the aesthetic was deeply grounded in place.
A Conversation Across Centuries
Ace Hotels are chameleons. Founded in Seattle in 1999, the brand has grown to 13 properties across the U.S., Canada, Australia, Greece, and now Japan, each one designed as a cultural hub as much as a place to sleep. The Kyoto outpost is particularly bold: it occupies the historic 1926 Kyoto Central Telephone Office, a red-brick modernist landmark designed by Tetsuro Yoshida, while adding a sleek new wing conceived by Kengo Kuma — the Pritzker Prize–winning architect behind the Japan National Stadium for the 2020 Tokyo Olympics.
The genius of the building is its dialogue between past and present. Kuma’s contemporary extension mirrors the form of Kyoto’s Machiya townhouses, with a façade of latticed screens that filters sunlight like shoji paper. The original brick structure, meanwhile, anchors the hotel in its 20th-century history. Linking the two is a lush central courtyard, a green breathing space that softens the geometry of the architecture. Inside, the interiors were handled by LA-based Commune Design, who layered the spaces with references to Kyoto’s craft heritage: indigo-dyed fabrics, washi paper lamps, and artworks by textile artist Samiro Yunoki.
Everywhere, the details invite touch as Ace is making design intimate, not just impressive.
The Room: My Kyoto Cocoon
My home for the next few nights was a Standard Twin in the new wing, but “standard” hardly felt fair. The layout drew directly from Japanese tradition: two low twin beds set close to the floor, evoking a ryokan futon arrangement but with Ace’s signature crisp bedding and a brownish Pendleton blanket.
A small seating area invited slow mornings with a cup of tea, while in one corner stood a TEAC turntable, complete with a curated vinyl. The bathroom was a joy: a deep soaking tub, rain shower, and fragrant amenities in recyclable bottles.
There’s a ritual I fell into: wake up, put on a record, make coffee, and let the room’s calm settle in before heading out into the city’s furnace.
Kyoto Beyond the Postcards
On my first full day, I set out early — or as early as the heat allowed — to explore the city’s temples. The sheer abundance is overwhelming: Kiyomizu-dera with its sweeping hillside views, the Zen perfection of Ryoan-ji’s rock garden, the fascinating tunnel of Fushimi Inari’s torii gates. Kyoto is a city of spiritual architecture, but also of lived-in neighborhoods.
By midday, the sun seemed to press the city flat. I ducked into Nishiki Market, just a short walk from the hotel, where the covered arcade offered shade and a sensory overload of its own: pickled vegetables in ceramic crocks, skewered quail eggs, matcha sweets, and stalls selling knives honed to surgical precision.
Another day, a short walk across the river brought me to Gion, Kyoto’s most famous geisha district. Here, the machiya townhouses stood shoulder to shoulder, their latticework facades shielding the cool interiors. In the evenings, I saw maiko in their layered kimono moving quickly, almost floating, to evening appointments. Tourists with cameras followed, but the true magic was in the in-between moments — the sound of geta sandals on stone, the faint scent of incense drifting from a shrine.
And then there was the modern Kyoto: Teramachi and Shinkyogoku shopping arcades, with their mix of centuries-old tea shops and neon-lit sneaker stores; the Museum of Kyoto with its rotating exhibitions; the nearby Shin-Puh-Kan complex, where Ace sits, offering boutique shopping, a cinema, and cafés.
Back at the Ace, the lobby was alive everytime with a different energy: locals tapping away on laptops at the communal table, guests browsing the in-house shop for t-shirts or travel bags, the Stumptown coffee shop buzzing with conversations.
Morning Routine at Ace
I started most mornings in the 24-hour gym, a glass-walled space overlooking the hotel’s courtyard garden. Even here, design mattered and the equipment was sleek. Enough cardio machines and just about the right amount of weights to keep you fit and pumped even during the vacation.
Breakfast is served at Kōsa restaurant, overseen by U.S. chef Katy Cole (also behind Tokyo gem Locale), and unfolds in a vast, light-flooded space with oversized paper lanterns and serene garden views. The menu offers contemporary farm-to-table dishes that shift with the seasons, paired with a thoughtful list of natural wines. The food choices felt so Melrose Place that I said it even before I learned the chef was Californian — and indeed, the whole restaurant embodies that sun-kissed, farm-to-table philosophy.
The espresso macchiato is done exactly right, and guests can choose from several set menus for breakfast, including avocado, eggs, and toasted bread. I opted each morning for the Healthy Start: an açai bowl without added sugar, oatmeal, fresh fruit, and a drizzle of honey for a little extra indulgence.
A microcosm of culinary diversity
Ace Kyoto is a microcosm of the city’s culinary diversity. Upstairs, Mr. Maurice’s offers a rooftop Italian escape, serving wood-fired pizzas and handmade pasta under the Kyoto sky. Stairs from the lobby lead guests to a mezzanine lounge Piopiko, lined in wood paneling topped by indigo dyed washi wallpaper. A long banquette wraps and ends with a copper lined seating nook and DJ stand. Woven lighting fixtures by Kyoto-based Kanaami Tsuji hang from the copper “clouds” lighting fixtures, and an international mix of custom American, Japanese and Scandinavian furnishings mingle on a giant rug designed by George Nakashima for Edward Fields. Steps lead up to a bar area with a copper lined ceiling and a deco-inspired bar featuring a redwood dye created by American artist Ido Yoshimoto. The bar is lined in banquettes and booths topped by a cactus installationby Hiroshima-based Qusamura.
And, of course, there’s the Stumptown Coffee Roasters café in the lobby — the first permanent one in Japan — where baristas pull perfect espressos for guests and neighborhood regulars alike.
Each meal felt like a continuation of Kyoto’s dialogue between tradition and reinvention. I’d have a delicate Kyoto vegetable tempura one night, and the next, a plate of Baja-style fish tacos that wouldn’t be out of place in Los Angeles — except here, the tortilla was made with local flour.
A Lobby That Works Hard
The Ace lobby is its beating heart. This isn’t a sterile check-in zone; it’s part co-working space, part art gallery, part community hub. During my stay, I saw a DJ setting up for an evening set and a group of local photographers comparing film cameras over iced lattes. Also, hands down for the whole service at the reception. So many young employees, always smiling and eager to help and all speaking a surprisingly impeccable English.
The lobby hums with local life, creatives, and travelers alike, making it a true community hub — and a safe space that welcomes everyone, regardless of race, gender identity, or sexual preference.
The shop is dangerously tempting. Alongside Ace-branded stationery and totes, they sell the very robes and pajamas you find in the rooms — thick cotton, charcoal-dyed, perfect for lazy Sundays at home. There’s also a commitment to sustainability here: refillable paper water bottles in every room, minimal single-use plastics, and locally sourced amenities.
Rooms with Stories
When I met Akiko Hayashi, director of sales and marketing, I got a deeper insight into the story behind Ace Hotel Kyoto. The hotel has 213 rooms, each designed to reflect Ace’s “East meets West” philosophy, blending Japanese and Western styles.
Every room is highly functional yet full of thoughtful, artful touches: entryways with wood plank floors and benches for shoe removal inspired by Donald Judd, Sputnik coat hooks by Osvaldo Borsani, and beds cantilevered from tatami-lined bedside tables with Ace’s signature leather-and-denim bolsters. Furniture draws inspiration from Charlotte Perriand’s work in Japan during WWII, with inlaid laminate tops, clever shelving, and notches for records and barware. Fabrics for drapery and furnishings were developed exclusively with Akira Minagawa’s textile company Mina Perhonen, and wool blankets are a custom collaboration with Pendleton. The in-room artwork by the late Samiro Yunoki nods to Japan’s original Mingei folk art movement.
Akiko showed me also the expansive Ace Suite, which has a king bed, a separate dining, bar and living area, double vanity and room to move. The bathroom features slate tiles and natural ash wood ceilings and comes with a soaking tub and separate shower. There I has the chance to practice my long-forgotter guitar skills by playing a few notes on a Gisbon guitar, a node to ACE’s musical DNA.
The Neighborhood
Step outside and you’re in the Shin-Puh-Kan complex, a repurposed commercial building now home to boutiques, a cinema, and lifestyle stores. A few minutes’ walk takes you to the Museum of Kyoto, where exhibitions range from classical calligraphy to avant-garde sculpture. The hotel’s location is central enough for easy access to the subway, yet removed from the crush of Gion’s tourist crowds.
Leaving Kyoto
On my last morning, I lingered in the courtyard, the sound of cicadas loud in the humid air. Kyoto had revealed itself to me slowly — not in the single breathtaking vista I’d expected, but in layers: the cool shadow of a temple gate, the quiet ritual of tea, the laughter over tacos at Piopiko, the late-night hum of the lobby.
The Ace Hotel Kyoto wasn’t just my base; it was part of the city’s story. It felt less like a hotel and more like a living room for the neighborhood — a place where past and present meet over coffee, where design serves as a bridge, and where you can be both a guest and a participant.
Kyoto is a city that resists being summed up. And maybe that’s its magic. You leave knowing you’ve only just begun to understand it — but you’re already planning to come back.
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