yuki takada | detail
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We approach the vernacular house at a 1:1 scale. Through the creation of archival drawings and direct spatial experience of actual houses, we developed an interest in “examining the vernacular house up close.” This notion of proximity carries a dual meaning: physically observing details at close range, and perceiving dimensions that are invisible to the eye—such as time and chemical processes.
While the systems of form and construction are artificial, many of the elements that adhere to them are organic materials, including plants and other natural substances. Much like a floor that gradually hardens under the pressure of human footsteps, the vernacular house acquires its narrative through aging, invisible chemical reactions, and the accumulation of time. It is through these processes that the house becomes what it is.
In this study, we focus on four architectural elements: the roof; the foundation stones and columns; the exterior walls; and the openings. Our intention is not to reproduce them in a literal or nostalgic manner. Rather, by employing contemporary materials and directing high-resolution attention not only to the joints between elements but also to the actions embedded within them—bundling, shaving, binding, and notching—we seek to deepen our understanding of the technē that constitutes the vernacular house. Technē, in Greek, refers to technical knowledge or craft-based wisdom.
Tectonics, broadly defined, is the study of transformations such as crustal movements. While the term is commonly associated with plate tectonics, it may be distilled into a more fundamental idea: the coming together of one material with another through manual engagement. Just as continental plates interact and continuously shift—causing the Earth itself to transform—the vernacular house is likewise shaped by the interaction of heterogeneous materials and the intervention of human hands.
Accordingly, we examine the origins, joints, and relational structures of the elements that compose the vernacular house. Through maintenance, material circulation, reactions between substances, and the expressions that emerge from the accumulation of time, the house reveals the qualities that make it a vernacular dwelling. These essential components have been reconstructed as full-scale (1:1) detail models.
In this exhibition, they are presented in juxtaposition with contemporary construction details, proposing a space in which their contrasts can be directly experienced.
I begin by reconsidering the idea of the human dwelling. To do so, it is first necessary to reflect on humanity itself. Here, I focus specifically on how human beings have constructed buildings throughout history.
The continuous landmass of the Earth has been divided by lines called national borders, which are further subdivided into states or prefectures. At the smallest scale, a site boundary is defined, and buildings are constructed within it. In this sense, architecture may be understood as something that has been created within systems of rules and delineations.
In Architecture Principe (The Oblique Function), Claude Parent argued: “To enclose space—beyond merely occupying spaces that already exist in nature (such as caves or underground voids)—constitutes the first intentional declaration upon the earth within the field of construction, even if the absence of a roof prevents it from being categorized as a dwelling.”
Within the framework he proposed, contemporary life—defined by horizontal expansion across a finite landmass—will inevitably reach its limits. In response, I propose an architecture that extends relentlessly in the vertical direction, confined within the site boundary.
On the plan, the experience may appear monotonous, as identical floor plates repeat layer upon layer. In section, however, a diverse sequence of experiences unfolds. Just as flora and fauna vary with changes in altitude, the Earth contains an immense range of environments. This vertically continuous house consolidates such environments into a single, uninterrupted spatial continuum.
Human beings inhabit even the most extreme environments on Earth. Through knowledge and thought—our essential tools—we are able to respond and adapt to surrounding conditions. I therefore propose a house that offers an experience akin to traveling through diverse environments while remaining within a single dwelling.
I call this project The House with Travel.
A Warehouse Arriving in Nihonbashi T-HOUSE New Balance is a space established as part of a project by New Balance, designed to promote the brand to the world. The building was designed by Tsuyoshi Nagasaka of Schemata Architects. This project is located in Hamacho, one of the areas in Nihonbashi, Tokyo, farthest from Tokyo Station. Inspired by the spatial hospitality of a traditional tea room, a 122-year-old warehouse (“kura”) in Kawagoe, Saitama Prefecture, was dismantled, and its components were transported to Nihonbashi and reassembled to serve as a new retail space.
The warehouse was dismantled using the “hikiyashiki” method, a technique for moving entire buildings on rails. While maintaining the grid-like arrangement of columns, beams, and horizontal elements, the structure was divided into five parts: four exterior walls and a roof from which tiles had been removed. These components were then relocated to the Nihonbashi site. A 9-meter-wide, 7.6-meter-high white wall facing the street forms the building’s iconic facade. At its center is a double door the same size as the original warehouse, serving as the entrance. Inside the box-shaped building, made of ALC panels coated with white elastic tiles, the two-story warehouse is nested. Within the roughly 10-meter-wide, 8.5-meter-deep square plot, a slightly smaller white box follows the site’s perimeter. The rear-right corner, from the street view, is recessed to create a small courtyard filled with trees and a spiral staircase.
Upon entering, visitors immediately encounter New Balance products, such as sneakers and T-shirts. The central area of the floor functions as both a retail store and gallery, with utility spaces like fitting rooms, a kitchen, and restrooms located behind it. The far wall is glazed, allowing natural light to enter and providing views of the garden on the east side of the site. Looking up, visitors see the darkened cedar beams of the former warehouse structure and the white-painted fireproof ceiling. Looking down, a knee-high platform runs along the walls, resembling a foundation. Sneakers are displayed on this platform, with warehouse columns extending from the top surface to the ceiling. The alternating sequence of white walls and cedar columns creates a striped pattern that envelops the interior space.
Unlike a conventional shop filled with fixtures and products, the interior is arranged like an installation, treating sneakers and other items as works of art. For example, circular objects of various sizes are scattered throughout the space at different heights—from floor level to overhead—some serving as simple display elements, others as massive platforms over two meters in diameter to showcase sneakers. Visitors experience these displays as if traveling through a space between planets, with the sneakers appearing as volcanoes rising from the surfaces of the planets.
Installations for apparel items such as T-shirts have also been created, using industrial materials like aluminum frames, fluorescent lights, and cables to display products. An aluminum structure, proportioned to match the building’s exterior, is placed at the center of the interior. The skeleton-like structure comprises four vertical columns and six horizontal beams. Nine rails stretch across the top, supporting framed displays in which products are fixed. Each frame includes two casters on the top horizontal beam, fluorescent lights on the vertical beams, and wiring along the bottom beam. Inside these frames, folded and layered clothing—T-shirts and hoodies stacked across nine layers—resemble Japanese sliding door paintings (fusuma-e). Unlike typical retail shelving where clothing is displayed with the sides facing out, these frames slide horizontally, allowing products to be viewed from all angles. Fluorescent lights attached to the wall columns create a continuous visual flow, and suspended items illuminated by the lights appear to float like ghosts in the gallery.
By connecting these display devices directly to the exposed warehouse structure, the design seamlessly links the space and products across different scales. Elements inspired by traditional Japanese gagaku music or shishi-odoshi (bamboo water features) interact with futuristic elements such as techno sound and fluorescent lighting. Collaborations with artists allow the space to transform into a gallery or, at times, a bookstore filled with books, establishing T-HOUSE as New Balance’s flagship store. Visitors can experience the space through multiple senses, including sight and sound.
A steel staircase along the wall leads to the upper floor, where a meeting space comes into view, with benches on either side of a circular table. Behind it is an office accommodating about four people, overlooking the gallery below through the atrium. Above the office, the exposed roof frame of the warehouse spans the space, with cedar beams crossing 2.4 meters above the floor, softly dividing the meeting area.
In section, the first floor facing the street houses functions with constant occupancy, such as the gallery and retail space, while the opposite side contains frequently accessed areas like the kitchen and fitting rooms. The nested warehouse is positioned toward the street, with a gap between the warehouse and the steel frame at the rear, creating an asymmetrical sectional composition. Spaces near the street are enveloped by the warehouse, while newly created areas at the rear enclose transient zones.
To distinguish the relocated warehouse from a simple museum exhibit, horizontal beams (“nuki”) are used as fixtures, giving function to the warehouse frame. Display shelves for sneakers, for example, are inserted between columns using MDF boards shaped like the nuki, topped with T-shaped galvanized steel plates. Variations exist to accommodate different product shapes, including back-to-back MDF panels with indirect lighting or U-shaped hanging rails integrated with plywood. These fixtures slot into existing holes in the warehouse columns without modification, connecting historic and new elements seamlessly.
Three-Layered Architecture The steel-framed white exterior encloses the relocated warehouse from Kawagoe, while columns and fixtures form the interior space. The building comprises three layers: the first layer is the architecture itself, the second is the historic warehouse, and the third is the interior fixtures. All layers are interconnected. The first and second layers are connected structurally and in form; the second and third layers connect physically through the structure and fixtures. Thus, the warehouse mediates between the structural frame and the interior space.
The steel frame surrounding the warehouse connects the building to the streets of Nihonbashi via its foundation. The white exterior, tracing the warehouse silhouette, expresses its form to the city while serving as a landmark. Although the warehouse frame appears nested and disconnected at first glance, a sectional analysis reveals integration as the warehouse structure penetrates beams, floors, and foundations, creating a cohesive whole. The skeleton warehouse also functions to subdivide the interior space. Fixtures extending from the warehouse structure link the city, the building, and the historical layers of the warehouse, bridging human experience across different scales. Each independent layer gradually scales down from exterior to interior, establishing interlayered relationships.
A Closed Box in an Open City T-HOUSE is located within Nihonbashi’s grid-like city blocks. The Hamacho area features narrow lots approximately 60m by 20m, aligned with a northwest tilt. The southern side of the site faces an expressway, and further south lies the Sumida River, marking the boundary between land and coast. The architecture in this area is often visually and spatially open. First floors of buildings open directly to the street or are glazed to connect interior and street spaces. Historically, Edo-period Nihonbashi streets hosted a variety of shops and craftspeople, reflecting a tradition of commercial and social exchange.
Against this context, T-HOUSE presents a closed, monumental wall facing the street, while high-rise buildings surround the site. The external “closed box” contrasts with the internal space defined by the warehouse, creating a strong black-box effect. While distinct from its surroundings, the building integrates context by acting as a landmark that signals its purpose.
The fusion of a warehouse from Kawagoe with a steel frame in Nihonbashi combines characteristics of two regions: the “closed architecture” of the historic warehouse and the “open architecture” of downtown Nihonbashi. New and old elements do not simply merge; they retain their independent structures and narratives while interacting. The traditionally lively area has become relatively quiet, with the T-HOUSE situated in a static backstreet rather than a busy thoroughfare. In contrast to conventional modern architecture, which connects buildings to their spatial and temporal context, T-HOUSE offers a new design approach.
Layered Relationship Between City and Architecture Within this “open city,” the first layer of T-HOUSE establishes a closed presence. The warehouse, once closed in Kawagoe, becomes open when relocated to Nihonbashi, while T-HOUSE’s street-facing exterior in an open city becomes closed. Through relocation and integration of old and new, the characteristics of the warehouse and the city invert. Ultimately, the three layers—city, building, and interior—form a sequence of open, closed, open, with interlayer relationships resembling stripes. The partially preserved warehouse elements fused with contemporary architecture create a chimera-like regeneration. Not only the building itself but also its relationship to the surrounding city exhibits a layered structure.
A Hybrid Space Born from Reuse Architecture is inherently immobile. However, by disassembling T-HOUSE to the component level and implementing “chimera-like deconstruction and relocation,” the structure becomes transportable. Repurposing the historic warehouse as an architectural element is a new experiment. The space is formed from components with different backgrounds than the original materials, producing a hybrid environment that is both new and historically rooted—the project’s most critical element. If “renovation” is defined as moving the completion point along the timeline and “preservation” as keeping it fixed, then T-HOUSE demonstrates a complex overlap of temporal layers.
The uniqueness of T-HOUSE lies in its spatial-temporal ambiguity: it is neither entirely old nor entirely new, existing in an intermediate state. While time is difficult to perceive visually, one can imagine accumulated time from wear and patina on objects. T-HOUSE visualizes time in ways that are normally invisible. Through the building’s three-layer structure, the interlayered connection between city and architecture, and the coexistence of past and present, multiple layers converge. By stacking thinly sliced layers, the blended perception of time creates a hybrid space, not merely a renovated one, where old and new coexist. This hybrid space, born from material reuse, has the potential to shape new urban landscapes.