By Lester V Ledesma
Any storied locale would be blessed to have one of these: a bustling old coffeehouse that seems frozen in time, its interiors seasoned by age, the steaming brew evoking memories of bygone days. Here in Southeast Asia where coffee has been grown since the 1690’s, I have been documenting the oldest neighborhood cafeson film. They’re called kopitiams – caffeine spots not unlike Europe’s traditional coffeehouses.
These places serve simple fare along with nanyang kopi – a blend of dark-roasted, sugar and butter-infused coffee that is brewed using a tin kettle and a coffee sock. It’s a thick and almost syrupy concoction that’s long been an everyday drink in much of mainland Southeast Asia.
In Singapore where I live, there’s a kopitiam in just about every street corner. They can be anything from nostalgia-infused “contemporary vintage cafes”, to humble corner stalls frequented by folks from all walks of life. For this photographic project, however, I chose to focus on the old-school coffeehouses that have been around for ages. These are the original mom-and-pop cafes run by the descendants of ethnic Chinese who migrated to Southeast Asia (or nanyang – the “southern sea” – as they called the region) at the end of the 19th Century.
At a time when coffeehouses everywhere have had to evolve with the changing times (read: Starbucks and “third-wave” coffee), these beloved watering holes are the beating hearts of our local kopitiam culture.
But of course, there’s only one way to pay photographic homage to such a time-honored subject – by going back to basics with B&W film on vintage cameras. Depending on the shooting conditions, I use Kosmo Foto Mono 100, Fomapan 200 and Luckypan 400 on a variety of vintage LTM and M-mount rangefinder cameras. The emulsions are developed at home with Kodak D76 and digitised on a Primefilm scanner.
Some of my RFs, like the Zorki-6, Voigtlander Bessa R, Leica-Minolta CL and the Canon 7 have been featured in my Kosmo Foto camera reviews. With their classic curves, these shooters often become a subject of interest among the coffeehouses’ older patrons.
“That’s nice,” you might say, “but what kind of photos can you make in a stuffy old coffeehouse?”
Personally, I strive to capture the atmosphere. At the half-century-old Keng Wah Sung Café, just a short walk from my flat in Singapore’s east side, I often visit for a few frames of whatever’s interesting at the moment. The second-generation proprietor Uncle Ong (he’s not actually my uncle, but here in Asia every older gentleman is an uncle) is always behind the counter, ready to whip up my usual kopi with some kaya coconut jam on toast. We chat for a bit before I take up a table with a strategic view – that of the busy dining hall, or the backlit outdoor area that looks out to a busy road.
From here I scan for potential subjects: a gentleman quietly reading the papers amidst the rush hour bustle, a fading poster on a sunlit wall, or even Uncle Ong himself as he busily cleans out his tin kettle and refills his coffee sock. Everything in this place is authentic. There is no curated nostalgia, no wi-fi and definitely no avocado toasts – just the down-to-earth, blue-collar vibe of an earlier era.
My project often leads to some interesting observations, too. In Bangkok I recently revisited the 98-year-old Eiah Sae café, which I last photographed in 2009, to see newly repainted interiors that bore the same circa-1920s hardwood furniture and décor. While the perennial crowd of elderly Chinese gentlemen had thinned, it now attracted a smattering of curious youngsters.
Quite amusingly, the proprietors have learned to adjust to the changing clientele. New customers get their kafae yen (iced milk coffee) in plastic take-out cups, while the regulars still get theirs the way they always had – inside huge plastic bags tied up with string.
On the other hand, I find that the crustiest old kopitiams are in Malaysia, with many of them dating back to the British colonial era. Here I sit in busy kedai kopi (as they are locally called) that brim with the atmosphere of ages – peeling paint, marble-topped European-Chinese tables, weathered bentwood chairs and all.
At a place called Kedai Kopi Juan Dong in the sleepy town of Muar, I chatted with a smiling kopi auntie (again, she wasn’t really my auntie) who proudly showed off her establishment’s museum-worthy equipment – these included an ancient icebox and crockery from the 1930s, plus a wood-fired boiler that they still used to brew their coffee.
There was also the Kedai Makanan New Eastern, a Hainanese-run coffeeshop that still boasted private rooms where British army officers once sat apart from the common crowd. The spaces were now open to everyone, of course – but their simple wooden walls held stories that no history textbook could ever tell.
These are just a few of the 50-plus coffeehouses I’ve so far experienced in my quest. It’s been almost two years now since I first picked up my film camera to record these coffee purveyors from the past. Throughout that period I’ve had my share of mishaps like light leaks, malfunctioning equipment and simply bad emulsions. Thankfully they’ve only served to either add an interesting look to the images, or strengthen my resolve to go back and shoot again.
Still, I feel there is much to uncover about this side of my region’s culinary history. There are many more kopitiams to document, kopi uncles and aunties to meet and countless cups of steaming kopi to enjoy – slowly but surely I’ll photograph them all.
Award-winning writer-photographer Lester V Ledesma shoots digital for his regular work, though in the last two years he has shot more B&W film than ever before. Brewing Nostalgia, an exhibition of his Southeast Asian vintage coffeehouses, will be on display in Singapore’s Chinese Cultural Centre from December 2025 to April 2026. Check out more of this collection on Instagram at @mykopikamera
- Southeast Asia’s oldest coffee houses on film - 04/11/2025
- Hoi An on a Leitz-Minolta CL - 08/08/2022
- Canon 7 review - 15/08/2021
