Mr. Kuma, what does harmony mean in architecture?
Harmony in architecture means harmony with the people and the place. We always search as a designer for this kind of power. The place is important: the history, the natural surroundings, and the residents all form the basis for architecture.
Can you give me an example of this in your work?
One good example of this is Yusuhara Wooden Bridge Museum — this is a museum that I designed which sits in the small town of Yusuhara in the southeast of Japan. When we researched about the town, we found that its people had been relying on a nearby mountain for a long time, they were using material from the mountain for building and construction, and the energy of the mountain served as their infrastructure system. They were really thinking and working with the natural resources of the place, so they also built a shrine to the mountain. We wanted to design the museum as a connection between the town and mountain.
“Natural light is one of the most important elements in my work. Not only does it allow us to connect with the environment visually, but it also shows the passage of time...”
Local resources apparently played an essential role in making that a reality.
Yes, almost every material we used in its construction came from the mountain’s landscape. Stone, wood, rice paper. That way, the material and the museum itself is connected with memory and place.Another beautiful example of harmony that comes to mind is your Folk Art Museum in Hangzhou, China.
When I visited the site in Hangzhou, I saw so many of these old houses covered with ceramic tiles — but also many of these houses which had been destroyed at some point. We used the tiles from these old houses for the roof of the museum. It’s quite different from what we use in Japan. In Japan, roof tiles are made in a factory, and usually the color is standard, the size is standard. But in China, the tiles are made from local clay, and I could really feel the spirituality of the place in them. So even though this is a new building, we can connect it to its history and its place through the use of these tiles, and in the design of the roof which is built to mimic a village of houses.
Are there any materials that are the same no matter where you are in the world? I was thinking that something like natural light, which is also important to your practice, would be considered versatile in that way.
People tend to think about stone and wood as the most important building materials, but you’re right that natural light is one of the most important elements in my work. Not only does letting in natural light allow us to connect with the environment visually, but it also shows the passage of time: through the light in the morning and the sunset in the evening, natural light gives us a message. Another element that people don’t always think about as contributing to harmony is air.
What do you mean by air?
For example, with the Japan National Stadium, which was the Olympic stadium when the games were held in Tokyo, we needed to make sure that the fans and visitors were kept cool during the hot summer months. The building used cross-ventilation to encourage airflow, and thousands of trees were planted around it for shade and also to bring in that harmony we talked about. The building itself was also built from wood sourced from all 47 prefectures in Japan. Japan is a small country, but it’s very diverse, so I wanted to showcase that historical landscape and created intimacy between the different areas.
Wood is another constant in your practice. What draws you to wood, rather than concrete, steel, or glass as many of your peers seem to favor?
When I was born in 1954, my house was a very old wooden house. And compared to the houses of my friends, my house was very old, dirty, dark… I didn’t like my house when I was growing up. I felt ashamed. But when I started studying architecture, I found that my old house was better than the concrete and steel buildings in the neighborhood. The experience of living in concrete and steel is totally different. I began to think that the goal of my practice shouldn’t be related to that kind of experience, it lacks the warmth and friendliness of wood. Working with wood for so many years in my practice, it’s become almost like a friend to me. I understand it.
There’s definitely something more emotional or comforting about wood when it’s used in design, especially for a home. It seems to hold memories and stories.
Yes, exactly. Wood is a sort of soft material, almost like the human body, it can provide warmth and softness, the patterns make it diverse and interesting, it’s fluid. There are different textures and patterns and color in different woods; cedar, saplings, and oak… The difference in working with them brings a diversity that is also important. We don’t want to live in a monolithic environment.
You once said that your dream is to make Tokyo a wooden city again, is that still a goal for you?
Absolutely. Concrete is considered as the most efficient material for creating big buildings, but the economic situation is totally different today. We don’t need to make those big buildings as quickly as we once did, and in terms of civil lifestyle, slow building is what’s needed. The lifestyle in a wooden city, like we see in the more rural areas of Japan, is very different. Life could be softer, warmer. It ensures we build more carefully, that we take of the buildings. It keeps a connection to the environment, it co-exists with the natural world. We can even build tall buildings with wood, it’s not as restrictive as one might think. It encourages balance, in a way. A wooden city is really my vision of an ideal lifestyle.