ARCHITECT'S APARTMENTS
Apartments split in two, or trees popping through the roof of the building - there are plenty of challenging architectural designs on display here to make it worth a trip down to Yokohama. Although this exhibition at Yokohama Portside Gallery is titled "Architect's Apartments", this does not refer to the private residences of the architects in question, but to public housing projects they have completed. The term "Architect's Apartments" has been chosen instead of the more common epithet "Designer's Mansions" (stylish and fashionable apartments designed by name architects that have enjoyed a boom in the last decade or so in Japan), in order to convey a more conceptual approach to the housing issue.
The exhibition (curated by Makoto Ueda of "Sumai No Toshokan" architectural magazine) takes as its starting point changes in lifestyles and living spaces in twentieth-century Tokyo. Up until the Second World War, the majority of Japanese lived in traditional Japanese structures, and sat on tatami mats while eating off low tables, but the post-war years saw an accelerated and irreversible rush towards Westernization. Even if old Japanese-style buildings survived the Allied bombing, they were often demolished to make way for monstrous apartment buildings accommodating the influx of Japanese from the provinces coming to work in Tokyo.
Much like the majority of modern urban developments around the globe, these apartments were generally impersonal constructions that left residents to face such problems as lack of community, alienation from nature and, all too often, a lack of privacy due to the prevalence of thin walls. Even so, this became the unquestioned norm of Tokyo living for decades. Only, people eventually started to ask questions
- - Is this wholesale adoption of western lifestyles really suitable for the Japanese?
- - What is the cost to mental health and spiritual well being?
- - Is it possible to integrate Japanese cultural traditions within this new lifestyle?
- - How can modern apartment projects integrate with their surroundings?
and a brave bunch of architects attempted to give the public some answers.
Seeing as these questions centre on some fundamental issues, it is perhaps surprising that it took until the '90s and the first decade of this century for them to be asked.
The general assumption is that up until the '70s everyone, including the majority of architects, was too busy working at rebuilding the struggling economy to really think about the problem, and during the bubble economy in the '80s they were too busy partying to care. If, in this decade, people were throwing their money around and taking out ridiculous loans for lavish apartments it was simply because it was the thing to do at the time ("live wild, live expensively") and not a result of any deep consideration of the kind of accommodation they really wanted or needed. It is, ironically, only with the collapse of the bubble economy and the subsequent period of reflection in the '90s that it has become possible for such concerns to be voiced.
The exhibition "Architect's Apartments" attempts to highlight some of these questions and some possible answers by looking at thirteen buildings built between the late '80s and last year in Tokyo's Setagaya ward. The designs are introduced through photographs, ground plans, 3-dimensional models and the occasional video with explanatory notes (in Japanese only), giving some background information and explaining the concepts behind the works.
The first building in the exhibition, designed by Ishibashi Toshihiko and Tokugawa Kotoko, demonstrates an effective integration of the building with the space and habitat surrounding it. The architects have used solid walls on one side of the house in order to block out the unsightly adjacent buildings, and have strategically placed large glass windows where a scenic view of trees and sky, for example, can be utilized.
Traditional elements like shoji sliding doors have also been mixed-in with the predominantly Western-style features, to add a Japanese touch and to increase flexibility in the use of space.
The plot of land in Daita on which Matsunaga Yasumitsu built the "Daita Apartments" is large enough to have accommodated the usual huge, impersonal apartment building on if left in the hands of one of Japan's large construction companies. Matsunaga, however, opted to build four smaller, self-contained apartment buildings no more than a few stories tall that offer far more privacy and character. He doesn't, however, seem to have paid much thought to the relationship of the development to its environment - its white Mediterranean facade incongruous next to the traditional Japanese roofs of the neighboring houses.