How many more of Japan’s iconic buildings will be lost?

{"text":[[{"start":6.92,"text":"The lifespan of the average house in Japan is shockingly short. In England or the US, most homes are renewed and reoccupied on repeat. But according to the Japanese Ministry of Land, Infrastructure, Transport and Tourism, those in Japan last 30 years on average before being demolished and replaced."}],[{"start":25.06,"text":"In Japan, when a property changes hands, the existing home is usually razed and a new one built. While the country has an impressive record of recycling construction waste, and Japan is making progress in its aim to reduce the residential building sector’s CO₂ emissions by 66 per cent from 2013 to 2030, the industry still accounts for 40 per cent of the country’s greenhouse gas emissions."}],[{"start":49.56,"text":"The impact of this culture of demolition — one rooted in high land values and the damage wrought to buildings by frequent earthquakes — goes beyond the environment. The country’s radical new wave of architecture over the past century has resulted in some astounding buildings, but many treasures have already been lost."}],[{"start":null,"text":"

"}],[{"start":69.2,"text":"Notable 20th-century buildings such as the Nakagin Capsule Tower, the Hotel Okura and Kenzo Tange’s Kagawa Prefectural Gymnasium — which is currently scheduled for demolition — are just some of the larger buildings that have not stood the test of time. The disappearance of smaller domestic projects can slip under the radar."}],[{"start":85.4,"text":"White U, designed by Pritzker Architecture Prize laureate Toyo Ito, is among those that have been lost. He created the minimalist horseshoe-shaped house in 1976 for his sister after the untimely death of her husband. She wanted a sequestered place to raise her two daughters, and so Ito created an inward-looking, U-shaped dwelling surrounding a secluded courtyard. It was a continuous, concrete tube divided by furniture and terminating in private rooms at either end. After 20 years, the trio no longer needed such sheltered conditions. Yet they could not imagine anyone else occupying their highly personalised home. So, instead of selling it, White U was taken down in 1997."}],[{"start":126.6,"text":"The question of whether to save a house can be a very personal one. Yet it is still hard to witness the loss of architecturally innovative homes, and campaigners are hoping to see them preserved."}],[{"start":136.44,"text":"In the decades following the devastation of the second world war, there was an urgent need to rebuild and a desire to modernise. As Japan’s economy began rebounding and its technological might advanced in the 1950s and 1960s, architects received juicy commissions and Japan excelled at building design."}],[{"start":null,"text":""}],[{"start":null,"text":""}],[{"start":154.76,"text":"Many of these projects were influenced by western architectural and social models of the time. The Japanese government promoted a shift from traditional, multigenerational households to nuclear families. The historic custom of eating and sleeping in the same tatami-floored room was suddenly considered unhygienic; individual bedrooms and a centrally located kitchen where the family could gather became the new normal."}],[{"start":178.28,"text":"This upheaval, coupled with the tracts of open land levelled during the war, turned Japan into fertile ground for experiments in materials, methods and aesthetics. Many explored the modernist vocabulary of glass, steel and concrete then on the rise globally."}],[{"start":194.12,"text":"But it took time for the country’s construction technology and material quality to catch up. Many buildings were simply not strong enough to last into the future. Even concrete, a virtually fireproof medium that could be moulded on site, did not hold up well. Its inherent porosity, coupled with an uptick in air pollution due to industrialisation and increasing car ownership, caused surface erosion and other types of damage including structural viability — a constant concern in an earthquake-prone country."}],[{"start":223,"text":"Japan is riddled with faultlines and has a very strict seismic safety building code which has been made more stringent after large-scale disasters such as the Great East Japan earthquake and tsunami that hit Tōhoku in 2011. New construction must comply with these regulations, and existing buildings are subject to routine inspections for structural viability. When they do not pass muster, retrofitting is frequently recommended. But adding braces and other measures can be expensive and impair functionality altogether."}],[{"start":null,"text":""}],[{"start":253.28,"text":"This creates a challenge for government agencies wrestling with whether the maintenance of ageing public works is a good use of taxpayers’ money. Many conclude that it is more economical to rebuild."}],[{"start":264.04,"text":"When it comes to private property, often the value of the land, particularly in Tokyo, far exceeds that of the building. Like cars, houses begin depreciating as soon as they are built. This poses a serious problem for those who wish they could pass the family home on to the next generation. Hit with Japan’s inheritance taxes, which are up to 55 per cent of the taxable estate, many heirs are forced to sell and the homes are demolished."}],[{"start":292.36,"text":"Land values also mean that profit-driven developers are often keen to replace smaller buildings with something bigger and, therefore, more lucrative — made possible by improved construction technology and a revision to Japan’s Building Standards Act in 1963. Until then, buildings could not exceed the legal height limit of 31 metres. After the law changed, the construction of larger buildings surged, and in the past 20 to 30 years skyscrapers have been built all over central Tokyo, a phenomenon evidenced by the speckling of boom cranes throughout Marunouchi and Shibuya. But this means an architectural legacy is being lost."}],[{"start":null,"text":""}],[{"start":null,"text":""}],[{"start":332.4,"text":"Kenji Hirose, a former designer of military facilities, grafted his knowledge of steel construction on to residential design in the early 1950s. Strong, affordable and mass-produced, steel became the backbone of the 70 or so homes in his “SH” or “Steel House” Series built between 1953 and 1971. “They made a significant contribution by introducing a new structural material to postwar Japan,” says Kazuyuki Yano, founder and director of research group and database Hirose Archives. “It demonstrated that steel could become a viable alternative for housing, greatly expanding the possibilities for architectural design and spatial expression.” Among the most recent to come down was SH-60 in Tokyo’s Nakano Ward, built in 1962 and demolished in 2021."}],[{"start":384.32,"text":"Others cultivated contemporary architectural expression that embraced local lifestyles, construction practices and traditional aesthetics. Among the most prominent proponents of this movement was the architect Kenzō Tange. Commissioned in 1949, his masterpiece, the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum, evokes both the elegance of Kyoto’s Katsura Imperial Villa and the sculptural concrete of the French-Swiss modernist Le Corbusier."}],[{"start":410.28,"text":"Similarly, the elevated house Tange designed for his family in 1953 married Corbusian pilotis (stilts) with Japanese elements, resulting in a covered outdoor area at ground level and an expansive, tatami-floored space partitioned by sliding paper screens upstairs."}],[{"start":null,"text":""}],[{"start":427.74,"text":"The Hiroshima monument still stands, but many of the architect’s early works, including his house, have already disappeared. And now his Kagawa Prefectural Gymnasium of 1964 is at risk of being levelled. This spectacular, boat-shaped building has been closed since 2014 when it was judged structurally unsound. The prefectural government decided not to fortify the building but to take it down instead."}],[{"start":452.68,"text":"Unwilling to see the building destroyed, an international group of design professionals and concerned citizens, the Former Kagawa Prefectural Gymnasium Rebirth Committee, came up with a plan to turn this masterpiece into a hotel and cultural hub in July 2025, securing private funding from various entities including spatial design company Nomura Kogei. Despite the potential savings to the Prefecture — demolition is estimated to cost ¥1bn (about £4.7mn) of taxpayers’ money — the government decided not to preserve the building."}],[{"start":485.52,"text":"Various official categories of historic preservation are possible for buildings in Japan once they reach the age of 50 years, accompanied by restrictions regarding what can or cannot be altered. For a vintage office building or outdated town hall in need of underfloor cables or other technological improvements, the scope of permissible change may be too limiting. For a traditional soba noodle shop, for example, the government-sanctioned title of “Important Cultural Property” might be a draw for diners. But ultimately, these protections are not watertight and can be rescinded. Whether to preserve it or not lies with the owner, who may not feel an attachment to or see the importance of saving a historic building."}],[{"start":null,"text":""}],[{"start":null,"text":""}],[{"start":524.4,"text":"One of the most controversial losses was the Nakagin Capsule Tower, which the owner demolished in 2022 after years of steady decline. Designed in 1970 by Kisho Kurokawa, it was one of the best realised examples of “metabolism”, a shortlived, homegrown initiative promoting adaptable design. This unique, residential structure was defined by its boxy apartments jutting out in different directions. Bolted to the base building’s structural frame, these compact units were made of lightweight steel so that they could later be rearranged."}],[{"start":556.5,"text":"Each one contained a futuristic array of built-in amenities, including a colour television, air conditioning and a moulded plastic “unit bath” that integrated the toilet, sink and deep Japanese-style tub in one tiny subsidiary space. Fortunately, Capsule House K, Kurokawa’s country retreat completed in 1973, which evokes the tower in miniature, was renovated and lives on as a short-term rental in Nagano Prefecture."}],[{"start":581.94,"text":"In many respects, the flexibility inherent in metabolist architecture was particularly well suited to homes. Built by metabolist Kiyonori Kikutake for his own family in 1958, Sky House started out as a simple square room elevated by massive concrete piers and articulated by moving parts. While sliding paper screens divided the interior, “movenet” adjustable pods at the perimeter held the kitchen and bathroom. As the family grew, additional movenets for children’s bedrooms were added. In a country where most houses are not designed in anticipation of future changes, perhaps Kikutake was on to something."}],[{"start":null,"text":""}],[{"start":618.64,"text":"While Japan’s appetite for the new remains robust and the reasons for demolition many, the idea of renovation and re-use is catching on slowly. When the actress Kyōka Suzuki learnt that Villa Coucou, a concrete-panelled home designed by modernist Takamasa Yoshizaka in 1957, was under threat, she bought and restored the building, which is now open to the public by reservation. “This small concrete dwelling resonates powerfully in the present day,” says former Yoshizaka staff member, architect Yuko Saito. “It embodies Yoshizaka’s philosophy of nature and architecture.” Suzuki was awarded the Appreciation Prize of the Architectural Institute of Japan in 2023."}],[{"start":658.66,"text":"More recently, a public campaign saved the former Ueno City Hall in Mie Prefecture’s Iga City, designed in 1964 by Le Corbusier acolyte Junzo Sakakura. In 2025 it was converted into a public library topped by a boutique hotel designed by MARU.architecture."}],[{"start":676.32,"text":"Projects such as these set an example for keeping historic homes and other buildings alive. At stake? No less than the fate of Japan’s modern architecture legacy."}],[{"start":685.96,"text":"Naomi Pollock is the author of ‘Vanishing Japan: Modern Architecture, Gone But Not Forgotten’ (Thames & Hudson)"}],[{"start":691.16,"text":"Find out about our latest stories first — follow @ft_houseandhome on Instagram"}],[{"start":699.12,"text":""}]],"url":"https://audio.ftcn.net.cn/album/a_1786843157_3661.mp3"}