Spring 2000, and Hiroko Kido is poking around in one of the gigantic warehouses in Beijing where the antique remnants of China's past lie rescued but in sadly in cultural limbo. Suddenly she spots a stack of 10 tall narrow doors, covered in dust. Told they came from a 1920s cafe or restaurant, a hotel even in Shanghai, she wipes away some of the grime, sees enough to be excited and buys them on the spot.
Today the doors are ranked in Kido's shop, Folk Art Gallery near Ebisu Station in Tokyo. "I'm waiting for the right buyer to come along, wanting to open a cafe or restaurant, perhaps. See the carving on the wood, the original green and clear glass? They really have cleaned up wonderfully."
The shop is Kido's second in the capital. Her first is in Shibuya, but Ebisu is the largest. "This was the warehouse for the Shibuya gallery, but so many people said 'Why not open here, too?' I use this to sell furniture, larger practical pieces. Shibuya specializes in smaller decorative items, like porcelain."