something a student said
May 31st, 2010
I teach a few courses on architecture and planning at Waseda University here in Tokyo. Recently I was drawn into a discussion with a group of students about the intent of architecture – they wanted to know how architecture is different from building.
We are fortunate because Tokyo is the perfect place to explore that kind of question. The city is filled with architectural jewels, designed by world class architects like the recent Pritzker prize winning duo Kazuyo Sejima and Ryue Nishizawa. It is also filled with a sea of what could be called un-designed buildings – buildings made with high levels of technical sophistication, but created with apparent disinterest when it comes to functionality, comfort, effect. A quick look out the observation tower at Roppongi Hills shows a landscape filled with such constructions.
Buildings of this type seldom are given much attention in their own right. IF they are quirky enough they can take on architectural significance as examples of extremity (it’s hard to NOT notice a huge red driving school built on the roof of a supermarket), but as examples of how to build in the city they are most fascinating when viewed as a collection, and from a distance – individually they don’t qualify as architecture.  OK, the students tell me. Why? Where is the line drawn ?
The standard answers relate to social ambitions, cultural functions, sophistication of materials and details. All important, but these ideas rely on discussions that are barely about the buildings themselves, and demand a sophisticated education as a prelude to participation. The standard answers also ignore the main player on the stage – the city.
Nothing new with that really. Even Palladio, the great 16th century Italian architect thought it necessary to divide his work between the country and the city. It has been an accepted fact that the urban context is somehow tainted, needing to be withdrawn from – homes and offices isolated by thick stone walls, and natural light captured only through interior courtyards. But the world is not anything like 16th century Italy any more. It isn’t even like the 20th century to be honest. More people live in cities today than in the countryside for one thing, and we are becoming more and more urban all the time.
Time to start rethinking the city and how we live in it.  If we are to be architects here in THIS city, and not merely builders, then we must consider what the city has to offer us as a landscape ans not simply assume that we are best off by retreating from it.
Part of the process is banal – merely reading the law. Zoning for instance is performance-based in Japan. That means building heights are not written down in a legal book somewhere, but instead the height is decided according to a formula created to guarantee solar access for the neighbours. Using the shifting results that come of those rules and using the specific character of a site requires a strategic approach.
OK, the students say, but what does that actually mean? Well, my answer is this. A builder (who makes buildings, not architecture) begins and ends a project with a generic checklist. If the project is a house, then the design is judged by the number of rooms, the size of the bathtub, the length of the kitchen. Check, check, check. If you have ever lived in Japan you know exactly what I mean. There are always too many rooms barely big enough to hold a bed in the standard japanese home. It is as if the builder is daring us to complain that 4 bedrooms is not enough, even if there is really only room enough for 3. To comment must be evidence of inhuman greed. So…4 bedrooms. check!
Following that logic, the city is never going to be part of the process, even though it is what defines the kind of home that is actually possible. So, if the role of the architect is to be an advocate for the client that means using the land intelligently too. Before the students could complain that I was still not being specific enough, I offered them the illustrations below. Illustrations, of course, from the Minami-Azabu House.
The site for the minami-azabu house is literally in the middle of the city. It is also landlocked. In fact it caps the end of a long and winding road that is just wide enough for a car to pass through comfortably. Two cars is a trial, and lacking a place to turn round most of the neighbours drive backwards for nearly a hundred meters just to park their cars on their own land.  As if that were not enough, on this property only half of the road, exactly two meters, touches the site, and entry is tight. Meaning that a turning space for cars ON SITE is an essential requirement.
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Maximum building envelope
The building code designates an envelope under which the house must fit. It is designed to ensure access to light for the neighbours, but on this landlocked piece of land has the un-intended consequence of guaranteeing that the lower floors of any building on the site will be drowned in shadow.
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STANDARD HOUSING MODEL – TOKYO
Because of the slope built into the buildable volume, the rules in a sense mandate that every floor is smaller than the one below it. Naturally enough the typical house in Tokyo therefore places the living room and dining room on the ground floor where the size can be maximised - unfortunately, this means the most lived in parts of the house receive the smallest amount of daylight, and the brightest rooms on the upper floors are used only to sleep in.
Choosing comfort and light, we turned the typology around. Bedrooms are on the second floor, parking and a guest room are on the ground, and the living areas are lifted to the top of the home. This creates the possibility for floating green areas that have maximum access to the sky and to the city in the form of outdoor decks.
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The result is a home that fits into its site, using space where it is available in three dimensions, offering views of the entire city from the living rooms and the roof deck instead of relegating the living areas to the dark. Living on this site makes urban life pleasant, not something that is endured in exchange for easy access to the city centre.
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