The Plaza of Kanagawa Institute of Technology designed by Junya Ishigami + Associates is a captivating exploration of architectural philosophy that merges versatility and the semi-outdoor into a singular, transformative experience.

Completed in 2020 in Atsugi, Japan, this project builds upon the pre-existing KAIT workshop, accentuating its spatial narrative through thoughtful design interventions.

Ishigami's approach to versatility eschews the traditional focus on multifunctionality, instead emphasizing experiential flexibility. Recognizing the campus's existing multifunctional spaces, Ishigami identifies a gap in the availability of relaxation areas. The plaza thus emerges as an ambiguous space that encourages varied interactions, inviting users to explore and engage with the environment without the constraints of predefined functions. The architecture becomes a canvas for the passage of time, where the act of being within the space is a dynamic and evolving experience.

The concept of the semi-outdoor is ingeniously addressed through a nuanced design that mediates between the existing built environment and the natural world. Ishigami retains part of the artificial campus landscape while introducing architectural elements that infuse a sense of 'outside-ness.' This duality is crafted to dissolve the boundaries between the indoors and outdoors, creating a delicate, unrestrained environment that enhances the natural diversity absent in the original setting. The result is a composed space that harmonizes with the existing structures while providing a new dimension of outdoor experience.

The landscape design is pivotal in this project, intended to be perceived both physically and mentally. The plaza invites prolonged engagement with its scenery, offering expansive planes of ground and sky that converge into a horizon, fostering a sense of boundlessness. This horizon is meticulously crafted through the architectural form: a floating iron plane supported by four walls, bending into a curved surface that echoes in the concave ground. The interplay of these planes creates a continuous, immersive environment where users can lose themselves in the expansive vistas.

Structural ingenuity underpins the project, accommodating a two-meter height difference between the campus and the project plane to integrate seamlessly with the natural ground. The iron plane's thermal expansion, up to 30 centimeters, is managed through precise engineering, with 83 piles and 54 ground anchors stabilizing the structure. This engineering feat ensures the plaza's aesthetic and functional integrity, likening it to a rotating suspension bridge in its visual impact.

Material choices further enhance the user experience. The permeable asphalt ground, cleaned and treated to absorb rainwater instantly, maintains a dry and comfortable environment even in wet conditions. This thoughtful detail underscores the plaza's aim to create a seamless interaction between people and the built nature, encouraging users to sit and relax on the sloped ground, which mimics a large, inviting bed.

Ishigami's design transforms the plaza into an emblematic space on campus, where light, sound, and form converge to create a holistic sensory experience. The filtered light through 59 ceiling openings, the sound of raindrops during rainy days, and the gentle slope all contribute to a profound connection between users and their environment. This architectural choreography of natural elements and built form culminates in a space that offers raw, natural comfort, epitomizing the concept of 'outside-ness' and fostering a deep, harmonious relationship between the campus community and their surroundings.

Nestled within the dense urban landscape of Tokyo, the Moriyama House, designed by Ryue Nishizawa of SANAA, stands as a seminal piece in contemporary Japanese architecture.

Completed in 2005, this innovative project eschews conventional notions of residential design, offering a nuanced and sophisticated response to the challenges of urban living.

The architectural language of Moriyama House is defined by its collection of minimalistic white volumes. These parallelograms vary in size and purpose, creating a dynamic and fragmented streetscape. The house’s layout, set on a rectangular plot, is marked by a non-hierarchical arrangement of seven larger and three single-room structures. This deliberate randomness disrupts traditional spatial hierarchies, presenting a composition devoid of a central axis or symmetry. The slight alignment of certain volumes and their strategic recession from the plot's perimeter are the only apparent guiding principles. The resulting architectural expression mirrors the chaotic yet ordered nature of Tokyo itself.

The structure's elevations further this theme of disarray. The seemingly arbitrary extrusion of rectangular plans produces a landscape of parallelepipeds that visually resonate with the eclectic skyline of the surrounding city. Constructed using thin steel sheet panels, each volume stands apart in terms of size, proportion, and floor count, ranging from single-room units to multi-story apartments.

Currently, the owner occupies a four-story volume comprising a study, living area, and two bedrooms. The remaining structures serve as rental apartments, designed to be easily integrated into the owner’s residence in the future. These rented spaces exhibit a variety of configurations: one features three isolated volumes around a garden, each containing distinct functional spaces; another links a study and bathroom via a short path; others include multi-story units with well-defined but compact living spaces.

A defining aspect of the Moriyama House is its exploration of the boundary between public and private realms. The plot lacks any enclosing fences, allowing seamless public access. This openness is accentuated by small gardens and connecting paths, fostering a sense of community and interaction with the neighborhood. The strategic placement of windows ensures privacy while still exposing the interior life to the outside world, embodying Nishizawa’s vision of blurring the lines between house, garden, street, and city.

Through this project, Ryue Nishizawa pushes the boundaries of residential architecture, challenging preconceived notions of privacy and community. The Moriyama House is not merely a dwelling but a conceptual extension of the urban environment, creating an indistinguishable blend of landscape, city, and home. It exemplifies a harmonious coexistence between the intimate scale of living spaces and the expansive urban context, offering a profound commentary on the nature of contemporary urban living.

Tokyo-based studio Schemata Architects gives new life to a sentō, maintaining its original function of socialization and inserting new areas such as a sauna and a beer bar.

Named Koganeyu after the after the famous Koganeyu Onsen baths in Sapporo, the project involved refurbishing a public bathhouse that was originally built in 1985.

Japanese public bathhouses have been a long-time favorite communal gathering place where people feel a sense of connection to their communities. Now that 95% of households in Japan own private bathrooms, many sento have been forced to close due to a shrinking customer base, even though there are a certain number of long-time fans. In such a situation, Koganeyu boldly decided to renovate the existing bathhouse and ventured into a new era, and Schemata Architects were commissioned to undertake the renovation.

The space housing the main pools is symmetrically divided into female and male areas by a 2.25 m high wall open at the end, just like in traditional sentō, where this feature was used to communicate from one side to the other. The area in question includes pools with different waters, from hot to medicated, while a small pool with cold water is located near the sauna and is connected to the outside.

"We think this culture is really important and want to keep also for the next generation, so we thought that a new sento has to have other functions that make people today want to go often." — Schemata Architects

Schemata Architects’ Hotel do-c Ebisu in Tokyo, reinvents a traditional capsule hotel, integrating retro aesthetics with contemporary design, while celebrating Japan’s sauna culture in a meticulously renovated space.

The project, unlike the modern, purpose-built structures typical of the "nine hours" chain, undertakes the ambitious task of revitalizing an existing capsule hotel. The challenge was not merely cosmetic; the architects had to reimagine the hotel’s identity while working within the constraints of the pre-existing beige capsules, a remnant of a bygone era in Japanese design. The approach was bold: instead of masking the outdated aesthetic, they used it as a foundational element, turning the retro beige into a defining characteristic of the new interior. This decision is emblematic of the project’s broader philosophy, where old and new are not just juxtaposed, but harmonized to create something distinctly contemporary.

The incorporation of saunas, a significant cultural reference point for Japan’s capsule hotels, was another key element in the transformation. Originally imported from Finland, the sauna has been deeply integrated into Japanese bathing culture, particularly through the ritual of alternating between heat and cold. Schemata Architects not only installed saunas where none existed but also employed the Finnish practice of "löyly," enhancing the authenticity of the experience. The inclusion of TOTO’s “Warm Pillar” faucets for cooling down after a sauna session underscores the project’s commitment to creating a space that is both functional and deeply resonant with cultural practices.

Architecturally, the project is marked by its meticulous attention to materiality and finish. The use of clear fiber-reinforced plastic (FRP) in the transition spaces between the sauna and showers creates a seamless, waterproof environment that speaks to the project’s functional demands while maintaining a minimalist aesthetic. The building's exterior received equal attention; the architects stripped down the existing finishes to expose structural elements, which were then treated with anti-corrosive paint. This paint, doubling as the hotel’s signature color, binds the exterior’s utilitarian aspects with its new identity, ensuring that the building communicates its transformation not only through its interiors but also through its street-facing presence.

Kubo Tsushima Architects transform a Tokyo wedding hall into Rainbow Chapel, a prismatic space where light and color imbue tradition with contemporary resonance.

Originally built during Japan’s economic bubble era as an annex to an exclusive salon, the building’s ornate excesses mirrored a bygone age of affluence. The architects have now stripped the structure of its anachronistic embellishments, offering a sleek yet deeply symbolic contemporary design centered around light as its primary material.

At the Rainbow Chapel, natural illumination becomes an active participant in the ceremonial proceedings. By employing a palette of stained glass sidelight windows, each in a unique hue, light transforms into a prismatic narrative. The oval geometry of the space, enhanced by rhythmic wall ribs, captures and refracts the multicolored light, casting an ethereal glow across the interior. The result is an ever-shifting interplay of color and shadow that transcends physical ornamentation, evoking the biblical rainbow’s connotations of promise and renewal.

Takizme is a japanese tea concept store and designed by Ryota Yokozeki and located Shinagawa district in Tokyo, Japan.

The concept store, which stands quietly in a residential area of Shinagawa, is a compact space that has been renovated from an old house. Ryota Yokozeki was in charge of designing furniture for a relaxing space experience while enjoying tea. The low table is neatly folded and placed like a yukata in a ryokan, and welcomes guests politely. By having the customer assembling it by themselves, the preparation for the tea party is completed. The experience in this tea room can be enhanced by meditating and calming one’s mind before the tea party, and assembling the table is part of this routine. In addition, because it is foldable and compact, it also has flexibility of assembling just the necessary amount without obstructing the space. The studio also prepared a small seiza cushion for people who are not good at sitting upright, such as those from overseas.

The tea-ware shelves neatly decorate the tea cups used for the four tea experiences, highlighting the individuality of each ware. The cabinet on the bottom is a storage area for tea confectionery. While using wood as a structure and intentionally adding gaps to create a light feeling, the composition is inspired by the woodwork used in temples and shrines to express a neat appearance. The wind furnace is made of Oya stone, which is hard to break even when heated, and its heavy texture gives it a an accent to the space. The underlay of the wind furnace and the tray are made by reusing the cypress chest used by Mr. Takizume’s grandparents, and the grain pattern of the cypress that has undergone aging conveys a beautiful expression and story over the ages.

Tucked within Tokyo Shibuya’s bustling core, Suppose Design Office reimagines the Shibuya City Botanical Garden as an intimate, layered sanctuary that intertwines architecture with nature's vitality.

The garden uses elevated platforms and layered terraces to create depth and intrigue. The design fosters a seamless dialogue between built elements and the natural world, transforming a compact footprint into a sensory experience.

The first floor greets visitors with a fragrant collection of citrus and tropical fruit trees, including yuzu, finger lime, and mango. The arrangement feels deliberate, encouraging reflection on seasonal and geographic variety. The sensory immersion of sight and scent creates an immediate escape from the city.

The second floor is home to a café and library—a thoughtful pairing for moments of respite. Guests sip coffee by day or botanical-infused cocktails by night, while the library offers a quiet space for reflection. The design invites lingering, a rare luxury in the fast-paced rhythms of Tokyo.

On the third floor, a gallery space serves as a flexible venue for film screenings, exhibitions, and community events. With its openness to the garden below and sky above, it bridges architecture and nature, enhancing the structure’s sense of fluidity.

Suppose Design Office approaches the design with restraint, using raw materials and soft textures to complement the greenery. The architecture supports, rather than dominates, allowing the natural elements to shine. The result is a mindful, balanced space that feels both grounded and ethereal. In a city where green spaces are rare, this redesign is a vital reminder of the impact of small interventions.