Hiroshi Sambuichi camouflages the presence of a dental clinic beneath a series of artificial hills covered in low hedges. The patients’ fears are exorcised by the building’s design: curvilinear wood panelled spaces alternate with large glazed surfaces. Nature is present in the background, but only metaphorically. Despite the best of intentions, there are certain intractable anxieties that crop up every time we pay a visit to the dentist.

The very figure of the dentist conjures up fear of precision instruments like the scalpel, which, guided by a human hand, must manoeuvre in miniscule and somewhat sensitive areas. With this in mind, Japanese architect Hiroshi Sambuichi opted for the gentle approach in his extension design for a clinic in Otake, near Hiroshima. The centre specialising in dental care is camouflaged under an artificial landscape: a series of dunes covered in greenery held in place by a metal mesh.

Two design strategies were employed. Firstly, the space is based on a series of vaults whose interiors are panelled in wood. It would feel like entering a boat's upturned hull were it not for the large glass windows that open onto the outside. The waiting areas and treatment rooms face north so as to maintain uniform lighting. This orientation protects these rooms from direct natural light, thus minimising interference from this and the colour variations dictated by the changing seasons.

In the background, nature makes its presence felt in the site's native trees and the roofing’s covering of vegetation. In the normality of the urban landscape, the clinic jumps out of the blue with the singularity of its architecture.

Born in Hiroshima in 1968, Hiroshi Sambuichi reveals a different approach in each of his works. He has received a number of awards: in 2003 he was commended in the competition for emerging architects “ar+d”; in 2005 he was one of the finalists in the “Best Residential Projects” competition announced by Wallpaper; and last year he received the “Detail Prize 2005”.


by Laura Bossi
photographs Shinkenchiku/Sha
from Domus News

Toyo Ito’s design for the facades of the new Ginza 2 flagship store of Mikimoto, the inventor of cultivated pearls, is the latest in a series of successful collaborations between luxury goods retailers and star architects in Tokyo.

Google Earth: 35 40’25.43” N, 139 45’57.34” E


Everything goes back to earth. It’s normal
Walter Aprile, Stefano Mirti

Last time we met Toyo Ito it was a couple of years ago. He was in the “post-Sendai” phase: the period after the Mediatheque, the landmark project that defined the end of a long journey started a quarter of century before. It was a journey that began under the influence of the two masters Kazuo Shinohara (the peak of excellence of the twentieth century Japanese architecture) and Kiyonori Kikutake (one of the greatest Metabolist superheroes). If we put Ito’s works next to each other in a line, we would be mesmerised: the White U (1975/6), the Silver Hut (1984), the Nomad Restaurant and the Tower of Winds (both of 1986). The latter was followed in 1991 by an even more exciting and spicier younger sister: the Egg of Winds in Tokyo Bay. Of course, we can’t forget the collaboration with the young Kazuyo Sejima on the Dwelling for a Tokyo Nomadic Woman (1985). To have a star like Sejima as a young apprentice in the office is a luxury (as well as a challenge) that few lucky mortals can tell to their grandchildren. After the jewel (the Dwelling) was ready in 1986 they designed the furniture for it. The collaboration continued with the Pao II, built in Brussels, one of Ito's earliest successful experiences in the land of Gaijin. Twenty-five years of memorable works and clear ideas that influence the architectural discourse: the poetry of transparency and lightness, architecture as a media dress and a media filter.

On this subject, Ito wrote in 1996:
…the flow of electrons around us in today’s world penetrates the hard shell and reaches our body. Our physical being has realised that it is once again linked with the external world by means of a flow of electrons such as a computer network… Unlike the hard shell we used to be armoured with, the media cladding is light and flexible and protects us from and controls the profuse flood of information… (1)

His architecture, his thoughts, the temporary installations... It is easy enough to mention the Vision of Japan in London (1991), the Health Futures pavilion in Hannover (2000), and the exhibition design for the Basilica Palladiana in Vicenza (2001). These works make us dream about a complete integration between architecture and new media, between the physical and the digital world. Especially in a moment when several designers are preaching about extraordinary and glamorous electronic futures, Ito is a steady reference to look at. He doesn’t talk, he builds, hybridising the new and latest technologies with the physical body of today's architecture.
To meet Ito is always an absolute pleasure because of his kindness. In this case, apart from the opening of the exhibition “Toyo Ito: made in Italy” (2), we were very curious about his new works and the new directions of his research. Although he still looks forty years old, the architect is now getting on for over sixty-five. We are talking about a new season that (given the premises built in the last thirty years) could end up being much more exciting and fascinating than the previous ones. There could be surprises today.
We realised that our curiosity would not be disappointed when he started to talk with Flavio Albanese (who we must thank for his kind hospitality) about a phrase pronounced by Ettore Sottsass some years ago. Sottsass noted that Ito’s architecture was remarkable because of its chilling coldness, and its almost inhuman, or human-free, spatial systems. While we were pondering on Sottsass’s comments, the first images of the Mikimoto building recently inaugurated in Ginza (Tokyo) appeared on the table.

When we wrote our book on Ito’s works (3), we opened with a quote taken from an interview: “I don't have any particular taste regarding women's fashion, but I like to look at women's fashion because I think that is perhaps where modern sensibility pays the most attention.”
By day, the Mikimoto steel facade is a leopard skin; at night it is lit up in different colours. It is reflected in the glass facades of surrounding buildings… In a way, we are in a new universe, quite distant from the works that made him famous in the past. Here we have soft and ironic shapes that are quite unexpected. It is a technological and structural virtuoso exercise, perfectly overlapping with a language that seems taken from a manga book. We started from ethereal and immaterial spaces and now we have an enormous piece of Swiss cheese in the heart of Ginza. Better to let Ito talk:
…Well… In this work, I have followed the same system already experimented in the Tod’s building, but I didn’t use concrete this time. This time the skin is steel. Since Ginza is a very sophisticated area, I wanted to make the architecture primitive… Toyo Ito? Primitive? In Ginza? This must be some peculiar meaning of the word "primitive".

Quickly he follows up:
Although the skin is built with 12 mm steel plate, when you weld it everything tends to bend. Furthermore, if you don’t do it perfectly, at the end you see the weld joints. To achieve a perfectly flat surface we had to work a lot. We, the engineers, the workers… all had to experiment with a lot of different solutions. Working with the Taisei Corporation was fundamental. There is the typical attitude of the Japanese craftsman: they like to do difficult things and they love an impossible task. If the duty is impossible, then the craftsman generates incredible strength and energy. He thinks: “I am the only one who can do it”…
What happened to the new media, the new technologies? The projections on the Egg of Winds, the science fiction images and scenarios? In the past, he spoiled us quite a lot with his stunning imagery… He looks at us smiling. He speaks slowly and softly. He moves his hands to underline the most important concepts. He looks us straight in the eye (quite intimidating when a Japanese person does it): What is important now is not technology, but rather dialogue with people. Architecture emerges from a dialogue. You ask me about new technologies…

Actually, the sense and meaning of technology in my works is changing. In the past the technology was highly visible. It was presented in a visible way. Now it is different. Technology is now something I hide, you have to look for it, you don’t see it, you can't see it. It is an element to be used and exploited in an indirect way. Before, I used to envision an architecture that nobody could touch, impossible to grasp and hold. Now, again, it is different. Now, I want to do an architecture that you can touch and feel. Now I am working on the physical reality, on the object, on the real. This interests me now. To give you an example, I am now working on a big exhibition that will open this fall in Tokyo. The title is “New Real”. There will be a lot of models, 1/1 mock-ups, and people will be able to touch, feel…

He keeps explaining and we look at him. We ask him if it is possible to make a parallel with Le Corbusier. Le Corbusier’s early season: white villas and the faith in the machine. And then his late period. La Tourette, Ronchamp, the sensorial beauty of the Jaoul houses in Paris, Chandigarh and the Cabanon… Now Ito laughs, clearly amused. Le Corbusier was a genius. I am not a genius. Still, I do love Le Corbusier a lot… He keeps smiling while we go through the images of his latest works, finding parallels with his explanations. I am now developing several products in Italy. There is a special feeling that I like very much, a feeling that pushes me toward this kind of work – especially when I work with Luciano Marson. Luciano gives much more than he thinks. This I like very much. It is very different if compared to Japan. It is similar to when I work with Cecil Balmond on architecture. I ask questions but the feedback and the answers are much more profound than my original questions. He doesn’t only talk about structures; he talks about many other things. When I work with him, I learn a lot about how to build, about how to do things. It’s very nice, very fascinating. It is a matter of finding the right people for the dialogue. A project can change through its lifecycle, and it changes according to the people you meet. This is the most interesting part, and the most difficult.

It is time to go, and he can clearly see from our eyes that we would like to ask him many other things. While we bow he gives us a handshake (curious moment of cultural cross-over) and says: You asked me all these things about my architecture, about immaterial and new technologies. Maybe these days I think and work on different topics. Still, this is normal. People grow old and then they get back to earth. Everything goes back to earth. It is normal. Everything goes back to earth. It is normal.


(1) “Tarzan in the forest of media”, originally published in Tomorrow Where Shall We Live?, Art4D, Bangkok, 1996
(2) Toyo Ito. Made in Italy. Curated by Toyo Ito, organization by Abacoarchitettura. Costabissara (Vi), showroom Fontana, until the 18th March 2006
(3) A. Barrie, R. Choochuey, S. Mirti: Toyo Ito. Istruzioni per l’uso, Postmedia Books, Milano, 2004

Walter Aprile is a computer scientist, and a partner of Id-lab (Interaction Design Lab). He is currently pursuing a PhD in robotic sciences at the Scuola Superiore Sant’Anna.

Stefano Mirti is a designer and partner of Id-lab. He taught at the Interaction Design Institute, Ivrea, from 2001 to 2005.


Text by Stefano Mirti
Photography by Iwan Baan
Edited by Joseph Grima, Kayoko Ota

from Domus News Domus 890 March 2006



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