Tadao Ando: Interventions in Circumstances

At a glance, my architecture may seem like an abstract space, stripped of all human elements, function, and other aspects of everyday life. This is because the spaces in my work are bare. I do not seek to produce spatial abstractions, but rather spatial prototypes. My spaces are emotional expressions of different people rather than an intellectual operation. I want to create prototypes because I want my work to invite a long-term, gradually evolving exploration. With this approach, the person who builds buildings justifies their life for themselves. I approach users of the spaces as an intermediary, facilitating their dialogue with architecture—my spaces transcend theory and appeal to the deepest levels of the soul. In other words, my architecture touches on fundamental aspects of humanity.
It may be true, as Gaston Bachelard says, that all architecture is essentially a poetic structure and that the fundamental structure of spaces cannot have a physical form. However, since the circumstances of the environment in which we work are absurd and because we only vaguely understand our own existence, we hope to imprint a concrete expression onto architecture and thus touch on the deepest aspects of human nature.
My works are characterized by two traits: I use a limited range of materials, and I keep their texture visible while further expressing an indeterminate function of space. I believe these traits allow me to create effective spatial prototypes. Strongly expressed nuances of simple materials and their textures highlight the simplicity of spatial composition and thus provoke sensitivity to dialogue with natural elements such as light and wind. In all of my works, light plays a crucial role in creating space.
The lack of clear expression of function does not arise in relation to the exterior, as spaces are almost always completely enclosed. The reason I have adopted this method relates to the desire to inspire glimpses into past events within the individual, corresponding to the spaces the individual carries within them. For this reason, I emphasize the ambiguity of elements related to human feelings and the empty spaces between functionally defined surfaces. I call this spatial prototype an emotionally fundamental space. Once I create it, I follow this process and refine the space into the shape of symbolic space. I do not hold onto this process merely for the sake of creating spaces. I strive for architecture that symbolizes and encompasses places where modern life unfolds. I hope that through this, I create social significance and shared feelings of the users of the spaces on a fundamental level— the fact that architectural works acquire social significance does not mean that architecture participates in social movements, nor does it relate to the general understanding of architecture. Architecture is one-time. An architect can only create social relationships through architecture. In other words, the only way an architect can affirm their own independence is through a series of interventions into a given situation.
Regardless of how dramatic the space itself may be, I believe it must not be severed from the daily lives of its users. Examples of how I think about linking emotional space and symbolic space for everyday life include, for instance, the passage of a city house in the Kyoto style and the ground-level entrance of a traditional Japanese agricultural dwelling. Although the softly lit passage is beautiful as a space, it also serves as a connector between the dwelling in the back and the shop at the front of the house. The ground-level space of the agricultural dwelling is simultaneously symbolic and functional, as it is a space where cooking is done and farming-related tasks are carried out at night when daytime work in the fields is completed.
Even though I consider each emotional space to be something extraordinary, I feel it must have some significance for ordinary daily matters. The importance may lie in its function. It may pertain to such technical matters as lighting and ventilation or may be important in terms of the distinctive lifestyle of its inhabitant. However, if the significance pertains to function or technical aspects, it must not be fixed in any way, but must change from case to case according to the specific momentary requirements. The emotionally fundamental space, which relates to the deepest spiritual levels, is unique. For this reason, it offers something refreshing and contradictory to ordinary spaces. It both revitalizes spaces and speaks to the hearts of observers. However, only when it has significance at the level of everyday life, does it culminate in a structure that encompasses both space and life. Only in this case does the emotionally fundamental space become symbolic concerning everyday life.
I delineate spaces mainly using strong concrete walls. The primary significance of this boundary is to create a place for oneself, an individual zone amidst society. Today's society, much like the multilayered bureaucracy that represents it, emphasizes overall structures—the individual is subordinate to society. The same can be said about the problems of architecture and the environment. The monotony of our surroundings reveals how senseless it is to abandon one's self and dissolve it into the surrounding environment. It seems to me that the only way to create a lively and pulsating environment is to aggregate strongly individual elements (entities). First, I will create a wall that will define a place for the individual and that can express the will to define relationships with society in some way.
From the very beginning, given the harsh urban environment, we have decided to create individual zones using strong walls without openings. If it is impossible to leave the house unprotected from external influences, this kind of delimitation is necessary, and then the interior itself must be full and satisfying. It must be a place where the individual can develop even when isolated from the outside world. The habitability of urban dwellings must be particularly considered because cities tend to push living spaces to the edges.
If, as I believe, my architecture must contain living spaces that contribute to the physical and psychological development of individual people, then I want to create buildings that exhibit signs of human habitation. To this end, I must create things that support the life of the individual self and that create a sense of existence. Under the circumstances in which we live—circumstances where surrounding things do not convincingly engage us—I feel that my efforts in this direction are important. Although this may seem random or one-sided from the architect's perspective, I am convinced that a creative approach, acting as wedges into the conditions of the surrounding situation, is very significant. The friction generated by driving these wedges into the surroundings helps the architect become more aware of those circumstances and provides guidance for their future development.