日本の建築のサステナブル（持続可能）について
Considering the significance of preserving the old
Fujiya Hotel constantly explores the ideal future of Kannawa and hot spring therapy culture. With plans to open a new hotel next year, they are preparing to welcome many new visitors to Kannawa Onsen.
While working daily with an eye on Kannawa’s future, a thought suddenly struck me about the old Fujiya Ryokan building, constructed in the late Meiji era. Gazing at the gleaming black pillars that have stood for over 120 years, I realized: “To envision the future, we must cherish the past.”
This revelation ignited a desire to learn more about the wooden ryokan architecture our predecessors have passed down. I felt a strong urge to solidify our roots so we can extend our branches far into the future. I’m determined to deeply contemplate the meaning and significance of this building’s presence in the town of Kannawa.
To explore this idea, I will be visiting scholars, artists, craftsmen, and architects who are actively involved in various fields, including those who have worked on the Fujiya building. I’ll be asking them about what we should “cherish for the future” as our central theme.
Visiting Tokuzou Shouno, a bamboo craftsman living in Oita City
Tokuzou Shouno is a bamboo craftsman who has been active in Oita for several years. His works are housed in the Oita Prefectural Art Museum and the Metropolitan Museum of Art in the United States. Last year, he received the Prime Minister’s Award at the Japan Fine Arts Exhibition, contributing to the development of arts and culture for several years as one of Oita’s leading artists.
Tokuzou Shouno is a bamboo craftsman who has been active in Oita for several years. His works are housed in the Oita Prefectural Art Museum and the Metropolitan Museum of Art in the United States. Last year, he received the Prime Minister’s Award at the Japan Fine Arts Exhibition, contributing to the development of arts and culture for several years as one of Oita’s leading artists.
When I asked Tokuzou what he keeps in mind to create such a tranquil atmosphere, he spoke about “the beauty that resides in things that have aged over time.”
When renovating and expanding “Shikuntei,” old materials from an ancient house in Ajimu were brought in, high-quality fixtures like sliding doors and fusuma were also collected from the Kansai region. Currently, the alcove in the sitting room displays ceramics, woodwork, and calligraphy from various periods and places, along with wildflowers, delighting visitors’ eyes. While Shikuntei is filled with the spirit of the “ancient,” Tokuzou says this is not a deliberate pursuit of an old-fashioned style, but simply the result of seeking “things with essence.”
For Japanese people, what is “essence”
So, what exactly is this “essence”
It is often said that at the root of Japanese sensibility and values lies the concept of “impermanence” (mujō). This is the sense that all things before us now are temporary, flowing, and ephemeral. This sensibility is connected to aesthetics such as “transience” (hakanasa) and “once-in-a-lifetime encounter” (ichigo ichie). It can be said that this is a value system opposite to the concept of “eternity” found in Western philosophy.
From ancient times to the modern era, people in Japan have faced ongoing battles with epidemics like smallpox and measles, as well as frequent natural disasters such as eathqueakes and typhoons. Living in such an environment, I believe the concept of “impermanence” has been unconsciously imprinted on the minds of Japanese people. By acknowledging this “impermanence” as fundamental to the Japanese psyche, we can begin to glimpse the shape of what is “essential”.
Perhaps it is precisely because of this world that feelings of gratitude and awe arise towards things that have existed for a long time. The essence that resides in “old things” seems to stand in contrast to the fast-changing world.
Now, let’s apply this sensibility to “buildings”. The act of building a small structure is sometimes expressed as “tying a hermitage”. While the word “tie” means to bring various elements together into one, there’s an even more important meaning. That is, “it can be untied”.
Traditionally, for Japanese people, buildings were meant to be “tied” when needed, and when their purpose was fulfilled, they were “untied” to be returned to nature or passed on to the next person. Nowadays, buildings that have served their purpose are seen as objects to be demolished and discarded. However, until quite recently, they were things that could be “untied”. Not only tiles and timber, but even earthen walls were carefully scraped off, taken away, and delivered to other sites. This is undoubtedly rooted in the spirit of “things that flow”.
“Shikuntei” can be described as a place tied together by gathering things that evoke a sense of “essence”. True “beauty” may not be something we deliberately create, but rather something that emerges as a result.
This time, I received important insights from Tokuzou. Moving forward, I want to continue thinking about “what should be cherished” as I look at the Fujiya Ryokan building, our future hotel operations, and the entire town of Kannawa.
PROFILE
Tokuzo Shono
Born in Oita City, Oita Prefecture in 1942. Bamboo craftsman.
Graduated from Musashino Art University, Department of Sculpture. Studied under his father Shounsai. Involved in the production of crafts at Shikuntei Studio.
After Shounsai’s death in 1974, he started his career as an artist.
Since his first selection in 1979, he has been selected for the Nitten every year, receiving the Special Prize in 1988 and the Minister of Education, Culture, Sports, Science and Technology Award in 2016.
