English text by Alessandra Madau

 

Leggi il testo in Italiano / Read the italian text

 

When talking about squatter settlements, slums or favelas our mind runs immediately to the metropolises of the developing world not to the cities of industrialized countries. Instead, the work, definitely uncommon, of 28-year-old Tokyo-based architect, Kyohei Sakaguchi, takes our attention to the creativity of the homeless and neglected of the contemporary Tokio. Creativity well expressed in self-made shelters that, with more and more frequency, appear and disappear in city parks and along the banks of the Sumida River. In fact, even if holding a job many are those cannot afford to rent, not to say to buy, an apartment in the extremely expensive capital of Japan.

Often the police carries out raids in the parks and along the river banks to drive the homeless out. Since this, of necessity, the houses must be easy to fold, and easy to be rebuild shortly after the raid is over.

In an exhibition, “Zero Yen House” (as the book published in 2004) at the Vancouver Art Gallery, Canada, (September 23, 2006-January 1, 2007) the Japanese architect illustrates his work, focusing on the replica of a”dwelling”, owned by an engineer, he discovered along the banks of the Sumida River. The structure, transportable and easy to fold away, is equipped with an inexpensive solar panel, which supply energy for six hours of lighting, television, and radio. A structural plan, more like assembly instructions, simplifies how to quickly fold away and rebuild the house.

Sakaguchi’s wide search, documents this kind of spontaneous architecture, and includes house plans, pictures, movies, technical drawings, and books. The architect highlight the uniqueness of each house and the many different “strategies” used to build them up. Despite his skepticism, (see interview) these strategies can find useful application in creative architectural work, in fact they bring to mind the prototype of house-transit for the Kosovo’s refuges. the initiative, sponsored by Architecture for Humanity (1999-2000), aimed to promote immediate architectural solutions and “light” shelters for global, social, and humanitarian crises.

Minimalist by necessity, the houses of the homeless of Tokio are very well constructed, and well kept; some homeless can even enjoy the luxury of a tatami. All the materials used can be found, for a few Yen, in any construction supply store. Small gardens and bonsai trees show how, in the bold Zen tradition, the inhabitants are sensitive to the environment.

Even though some of the homeless might have the right to own one of the anonymous, impersonal and, probably, squalid tenement house they still prefer to live in these shelters, temporary and tiny, but laden with humanity. And it is the humaneness of this architecture that has caught the attention of Sakaguchi.

“These homes embody simplicity, functionality and are at one with their environment, like the tea house of Rikyu Sen”, says Sakaguchi and, to avoid misunderstandings, he continues “I don't want to idealize the situation homeless people find themselves in, but in a world where most of us live in mass-produced, concrete boxes, Zero Yen Houses are precious works of art. They deserve to be recognized.”⁽¹⁾ A remarkable example of architectural shapes created with admirable talent and ability by untutored, unbiased builders.

When western architects, Frank Ll. Wright first, decide to let go the arid dictates of the 18th century historicism and revivals, and get rid of the burden of ornaments, the expressive clarity of lines, shapes, and functionality of Japanese architecture became the incomparable fountainhead of inspiration.

“There is a good deal of irony in the fact that to stave off physical and mental deterioration the urban dweller periodically escapes his splendidly appointed lair to seek bliss in what he thinks are primitive surroundings: a cabin, a tent, or, if he is less hidebound, a fishing village or hill town abroad. Despite his mania for mechanical comfort, his chances for finding relaxation hinge on its very absence.”⁽²⁾

“Part of our troubles results from the tendency to ascribe to architects… exceptional insight into problems of living when, in truth, most of them are concerned with problems of business and prestige.”⁽³⁾ On the other hand, the admirable work of Sakaguchi documents, how the architecture without architects can inject a healthy dose of humility in a body mined by the appeal of business and prestige. The wisdom of the homeless architecture goes beyond the fulfillment of primary needs and aesthetic precepts; it produces a form of organic architecture that must be preserved and disclosed without hesitation, in spite of the olympic disregard shown by the academic historians and critic.

 

Notes:

(1), Hiroko Tabuki, Associated Press, Japan homeless become unwitting architects, Mar. 17, 2006 ↩

(2), Bernard Rudofsky, Architecture Without Architects, University Of New Mexico Press – Albuquerque 1999 [MoMA, New York 1964] ↩

(3), Bernard Rudofsky, Architecture Without Architects, University Of New Mexico Press – Albuquerque 1999 [MoMA, New York 1964] ↩