Neatly tucked into a 8m x 4m lot in between two larger buildings on a Tokyo side street lies an enigmatic little structure. There’s no uniform façade to speak of, nor any real "walls." Instead, Ryue Nishizawa's Garden & House deliberately confuses and beguiles the dweller and passersby on the street. With a sort of indoor/outdoor Jenga stack that reminds us of architect Stefano Boeri’s Vertical Forest, Nishizawa’s design is achieved through the artful placement of plexiglass railings, plants in vases, minimalist benches, curtains, and window panes.The effect is pleasantly disorienting—one can never be quite sure where one room ends and another space begins. The floorplans of each level have almost no uniformity, save for a winding minimalist staircase that subtly connects the jumble of various living spaces in a seamless, organic crawl. Large and small greenery abound throughout, stirring a sense of sharing a living space with air-breathing organisms other than yourself.Amidst the confusion, however, is that unmistakable Japanese serenity and certainty of having each object in its rightful and most efficient place, as well as the rather touching knowledge that the only way to be sure whether one is indoors, outdoors, or somewhere in between is to feel for a breeze on one's skin. This urban Garden & House is an exercise in pushing the objective of space conversion from simple maximum-efficiency towards a new consideration of privacy and transparency, "my space" and "our space," and the concept of spatial boundary itself.
Photos courtesy of Iwan Baan[via Today and Tomorrow]
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