A mainstream, modern space
Downtown branch eschews chanting, chooses upbeat music
From the outside, nothing about the second-floor walk-up over a Quiznos sub shop on a noisy street corner suggests enlightenment.
Inside, the downtown branch of Yoga Tree appears sleek, minimalist. The floor and benches are highgloss white, and sunlight streams through a bank of windows draped with white sheers, giving the lounge an ethereal air. “Yoga is the same classic postures,” explains co-owner Jason Lu, 30. “It’s in terms of how we present it that’s new.”
Passionate about yoga, Lu and his wife, Debbie Fung, don’t want to dilute the ancient practice, they say, but make it more mainstream. No statues of deities. No chanting music. “Some people are turned off by chanting. They think it’s religious,” says co-owner Fung, 30. “Our music is upbeat, more urban.”
Bright photographs of the CN Tower, purple morning glories, a weathered bench and other Toronto street scenes line the white corridor leading to the two exercise rooms “Fire” and “Flow.” The humming sound of the mantra “Om” wafts from “Flow” as 14 yoga students, many of them office workers on lunch break, begin a 50-minute hatha class.
Lime green, raspberry and tangerine coloured mats dot the beige cork floor. The students, many in bright stretchy yoga tops, go through the lunges, downward dogs, baby cobras, and warrior stands. The teacher, Ali Alexander, calls out poses, sometimes in Sanskrit, and instructs them on breathing. Soft Indian music and a Carlos Santana instrumental play on her iPod. Sometimes, she says, she selects uplifting pop songs, such as “Dreamweaver” or “Imagine.”
This downtown Fashion District branch of Yoga Tree — there are four GTA locations with plans to sprout more — caters mainly to busy young professionals and includes hot or reduced-heat yoga, core yoga for torso strengthening, an early morning energetic power hour and yin yoga to help stressedout strivers rebalance. In the suburban studios, they run more restorative classes and the seasonal workshop, yoga for golfers.
But they stay away from what Lu calls “the mini fads,” such as hiphop or aerial yoga. “We want to sustain the business long term with true yoga,” says Fung, who discov- ered the posture and breathing exercises while a student at University of Waterloo. She introduced the practice to Lu, who eventually trained as a teacher in India. On this day, Lu is wearing cuttingedge garb — a grey Lululemon top that’s strategically vented, moisture-wicking and antibacterial. He’s a Lululemon ambassador and tries out new products for the company. In the lounge area, the couple sells tops and pants of their own design, as well as yoga paraphernalia: incense, water bottles, mats, bolsters. The hatha class ended, Laura Velasquez, 25, a graphic designer who works nearby, rolls up her pink mat. She comes three times a week. “It brings peace to my life,” she says. “I feel rejuvenated every time.”