colors. The goal is to please rather than impress the visitor. The owners of such houses participated in the selection of materials and the playful details such as doorknobs and nail covers.
These small tea ceremony utensils underscore the attention to detail in Japanese design. At left are two whisks referred to as chasen; one has been turned over on a stand especially designed for that purpose. The flat scoop (chashaku), is an object of art in its own right. During the Momoyama and Edo Periods, men of power often vied with each other in crafting this simple object.
Japanese and modern Western elements of this interior complement each other, since both aspire to the beauty of simplicity. The shoji wall on the left is completely removable.
The focus on Japanese design is not on surfaces, but on the quality of the resulting space. This modern Japanese house achieves the feeling of traditional Japanese space with modern materials and furniture.
Sukiya–Shoin rooms are often complemented by tea huts in their gardens. It was not unusual for architects and designers to make full-scale paper models (okoshiezu) of a tea hut to perfect its designs before the actual construction process began.
Five of the houses in this book were not built with traditional materials and techniques, but have nonetheless been included because they express the dynamics of Japanese space and sensibilities. Although traditional houses are decreasing in number, traditional spatial concepts inform the work of many contemporary architects in Japan. While most Japanese now live in apartments or modern homes that are usually small but comfortable, they maintain deep pride and love for their traditional architecture. With growing awareness of the many wonderful buildings already lost to the recent development frenzy, there is now renewed interest in saving traditional structures. Several homes in this book were moved to new locations for preservation—a very encouraging sign. I hope that this book will strengthen this trend.
The houses featured in this book are important not just for the Japanese but also for all of us. They invite us to rethink the wisdom of our unsustainable lifestyles. Contrary to Le Corbusier’s adage of modern architecture, a traditional Japanese house is not simply a “machine to live in,” but a home for the soul.
Furniture—such as this display alcove, shelves and cupboards—are built into the room to achieve unobstructed space. The bold dark lines of the wood frames and tatami mat borders work with vertical and horizontal planes to create an intensely calm effect.
A Tea Master’s Home in Aichi
Sado or the “Way of Tea” seeks to extend the meditative simplicity of the tea ceremony or chanoyu into all aspects of life. The ideal of a mind in complete harmony with nature and free from the turmoil of worldly affairs has blossomed in Japan since Zen Buddhism arrived here from India and China in the 13th century. From the Meiji Era (1868–1912) to the early Showa Period (1926–1989), many influential people in political and financial circles became particularly strong proponents of chanoyu, as they searched for balance in their secular and spiritual lives. This helped the ideals of chanoyu strongly influence many arts in Japan including architecture, painting, pottery, poetry, calligraphy and flower arrangement. In architecture, chanoyu has generated a special style called the Sukiya style, known for its minimalism, simplicity, rusticity, understatement and a restrained playfulness. The Takamatsu house was built in 1917 in the Sukiya style by Teiichi Takamatsu, a renowned votary of chanoyu in Nagoya district, located between Tokyo and Kyoto. The second-generation head of a wealthy family that owns substantial real estate, he brought his profound love of chanoyu to the building of his house. After his son inherited the family business and his father’s beloved residence, this house became the setting for many dramas in the financial scene of Japan for the next several decades.
This historic legacy nearly came to an end when the house was slated for destruction in 1985. Fortunately, Teruyuki Yamazaki, a businessman with a deep understanding of Japanese architecture, helped save this invaluable Sukiya-style house by purchasing it as a guest house for his company. The new owner was moved by the fact that the Takamatsu house was nearly as old as his machine tool exporting company, Yamazaki Mazak Corp., which was founded in 1919, and had witnessed the same historic developments.
Yamazaki relocated the Takamatsu house—which was relatively easy to do, since traditional Japanese homes are made of skillful wood joinery—to a scenic part of the Aichi Prefecture on a generous 6,700 square meter plot with a good view of the Kiso River. It has now been renamed Zan Yu So, which literally means, “a villa to enjoy oneself for a while.” The rebuilding of the Takamatsu house was completed in 1990 after five years of reconstruction, involving just a few changes necessitated due to its move. Besides the grand reception room of this house, which has 20 tatami mats, there are several ten-mat rooms, each one with a different theme and an elaborate interior. All the rooms offer picture-perfect views of the lovely garden, which also has a special tearoom connected to the house via a passage. In keeping with the true Sukiya aesthetics of understatement, this large house has an air of modest elegance rather than showy pride. Its natural simplicity and a sense of stillness are still spiritually uplifting, in keeping with what the original owner might have intended.
A cupboard for storing shoes is an essential feature of a genkan, the entrance for welcoming guests. The sliding doors here are covered with paper with the special pattern usually reserved for larger sliding doors called fusuma.
Slippers await guests in the genkan of Zan Yu So. Changing from shoes worn outside the house to slippers is symbolic of getting into a more relaxed state of mind. The quiet lines and understated material of this new entrance have been carefully designed to harmonize with the old reconstructed house.
The relationship between the interior and the garden is very important in Japanese architecture. The gardens are designed to be viewed from the low vantage point of a person seated in the room on a tatami mat. Here the shoji screens have been slid aside to open the drawing room to the beautiful garden. The roofed gate (naka-kuguri) and the tearoom are visible on the right of a grand Japanese oak tree. The panel on top of the shoji screens (ranma) is known as muso mado—one perforated panel slides behind the other, opening or closing the apertures to suit the different ventilation needs of changing seasons.
The grand reception room, Kairaku-no-ma, is decorated in Shoin style. This interior design style was originally named after the built-in writing desks (tsuke shoin) in the rooms of Zen priests. Since then, a built-in desk and the accompanying shoji window have become ceremonial elements of formal décor, as seen in this room. The deep tokonoma, another element of the formal Shoin style, holds a cha-ire—a pot for preserving green tea—that had been a gift from Tsunayoshi, the fourth Tokugawa Shogun, to one of his vassals. The hanging kakejiku was painted by Tanyu Kano (1602–1674), a renowned painter of the Kano school, which supplied the Shoguns with their official painters for as long as 300 years.
An arrangement of open shelves (tsuri-dana)