Farewell Nakagin Tower
The work for demolishing the Nakagin Tower designed by Kisho Kurokawa started a couple of weeks ago. Despite this being well warned, there was hope for this not to happen, as much as there was hope for replacing the capsules every 25 years.
I’m not shocked about the news. I’m sad. I can openly say that the Nakagin Tower is, or better said ‘was’, my favourite building, as much as I openly said that The Matrix is my favourite movie. An appreciation that came very early in my life, way before having an objective perception of architecture (or films).
The Nakagin Tower is a fantastic building. It is very unique. It is very effective in representing an idea. It follows very few conceptions of traditional construction. Whatsmore, it challenges plenty of conceptions of traditional construction. And, it is all shaped beautifully. A sculpture made of steel elements popping out of two vertical steeples. It has symmetry all around. It looks neat, but at the same time random. It has a very nice set of scales, as a whole it looks slim and elegant, while the pods look organic. The uneven arrangement of elements brings movement to it, as much as it provides personality to each pod. It is intriguing and entertaining to watch. But overall, it is smart. It takes architecture beyond the conception of a building. It is a statement of the way of living and the role of technology in modern life.
Designwise, it is a great example of the potential of modularity, repetition and rhythm in architecture. The geometry of the pods works as a perfect deal between human minimum space for living and construction requirements for prefabrication and assembly. The pod’s length is one and half their width, which allows for placing the pods at different angles with enough space for natural lighting and ventilation. The side facade of the pods almost follows the golden section in relation to the height or the width and is covered with three sheets of metal calling plus an extra metal frame, such as Pi. The circular windows are placed slightly above the centre of the front facade giving a sense of ‘rising’, in the same way, a pointed arch does in gothic architecture. Some of which are covered with a steel curtain that acts as eyelashes highlighting their likeness to some sort of eyes.
The tower itself looks like a giant robotic tree with pods rather than leaves. Like a treehouse build-up for sophisticated suited adults that work from 8 to 5, have a nap, watch TV, sleep, shower, repeat. The best representation of the metabolism manifesto as a real building. Different from the Expo ’70, which was a ‘happening’, not a building. Tange’s dream of the Expo turning into a city, or part of it, never happened. While the Nakagin Tower did and stayed there for almost half a century.
I do believe it is a mistake to destroy this architectural icon. But for some others, plenty of others, this building was an impossible dream, along with all the metabolism movement. A utopia of the 20th century that became a dystopia of the 21st century. A disgusting rotting piece of junk that needs to be replaced with a more conventional building that responds to the economies of these days. Probably some flats over a McDonald’s or a Tk Maxx.
I do believe it is a mistake to destroy it for the same reason it is wanted to be destroyed. It should have been preserved as a reminder of our ideas. It should have been preserved, maybe not for its original function, but as a monument to human thought. A lesson of a bad or good approach to housing and construction. A reminder of the unpredictability of the future, and the ephemerality of technology. It should have been preserved as an architectural archive of one of the most important architectural movements of the 20th century, from which very few buildings remain standing.
I do believe it is a mistake to destroy it, for its architectural value. The amount of references to it in literature and architecture is vast. It has been an example used to create arguments and is one of the main icons of the metabolism style. It was not a surprise that it was a magnet for a specific type of tourist, reflected in the amount of ‘no trespassing’ signs written in English on its door. The Nakagin Tower transcended from private ownership to world heritage. I’m sure that I’m not the only one feeling ripped off of personal belonging.
New times have come for the Nakagin Tower. It will become a ghost of the past. One of those things that we will need to use our imagination to visualise, in the same way, we do with the Crystal Palace or the Mausoleum of Halicarnassus. Some parts of it will be placed in museums, such as it is happening with the ‘historical’ Robin Hood gardens by architects Alison and Peter Smithson. Now, people interested in the Nakagin Tower will visit youtube rather than buy a ticket to Tokyo.
Farewell Nakagin Tower, I’m glad I met you and be sure we’ll talk good things about you.
