A Close Read on Chichu Art Museum in Naoshima Island in Japan
Chichu Art Museum, Designed by Tadao Ando
The Chichu Art Museum, designed by Japanese Architect, Tadao Ando, is an architectural space filled with energy and turbulence, yet on the surface appears silent and orderly. The museum is located in the art Island of Naoshima in Japan and is home to five distinct art galleries by Claude Monet, James Turrell, and Walter de Maria. The structure is built primarily underground, using natural material and is said to be ‘rethinking the relationship between nature and people’ (Benesse Art Site Naoshima). The museum behaves as an all-encompassing experience that transcends the unification of architecture and the natural environment with the integration of this particular collection of art, each with their own significance of how we perceive and interact with nature (Blaser, 49). The space is a quintessential Ando design as it takes into account eastern and western concepts which builds into a universality that resonates with its visitors, regardless of background or culture.
The site of Naoshima is located within the Seto Inland Sea, a cluster of once polluted islands which were casualties of Japan’s post-World War II modernization. Benesse Holdings, Inc., the organization that is behind the Chichu Art Museum, reinvigorated the islands in 1989 by incorporating contemporary art and architecture, becoming a global destination for artists and tourists (Itzkowitz). The island strays from the white cubed galleries and museums found in most metropolitan cities and instead focuses on a holistic experience, taking into account the natural elements and the surrounding region, allowing for the rejuvenation of its rural communities, while also creating contemplative and direct relationship with art, the self, and nature. The founder of Benesse Group, Soichiro Fukutake’s goal is to help ‘close the disparity between urban areas and rural areas, while advocating for redirecting private wealth, especially from Asian billionaires, towards in public initiatives, such as in contemporary art to help build rural communities (Coughlan).
Naoshima holds a source of energy for contemporary eastern and western art, a ground that is geographically located in the east, but through its modern structures and variety of global artist integrations transforms the islands into a truly interconnected area. The remanence of the west in the island of Naoshima creates a fusion with the east, becoming a centralized force of world values. Ando’s use of pure and raw concrete and geometric form eliminates surface level cultural elements, but inherits values of the island region, and especially from his Japanese roots. This ties into the potential for a Critical Regionalist approach to the design of Chichi Museum, as well as other works of Andos.
Ando’s role within Critical Regionalism has been controversial, but it’s important to place things in context, as the island and region of Naoshima has a power of its own. It is displaced and stands as in constant communication with the main lands. In other words, ideas and thoughts discovered here by its visitors are in constant comparison with ideas and perspectives from their origins. Surrounded by the sea, ideas and thoughts can be projected in any direction, whichever direction is the point of origin is where these ideas will be sent to.
Opened in 2004, the Chichu Art Museum was built to house Fukutake’s collection of Monet paintings. Fukutake had a long-standing relationship with Tadao Ando and brought him on along with James Turrell and Walter de Maria to advise on how best to create a space for the paintings, in addition to the placement of each artist’s own work within the museum. Tadao Ando built the structure using his signature material: concrete, glass, and wood. There are no exterior walls, with the exception of the entrance. All structures are amassed beneath the hill, with various sections throughout the museum which expose natural light. Visiting the site, it is difficult to discern the structure as under or above ground. The skillful craftmanship and methodical design eliminates the feeling of being underground or any sense of claustrophobia that can potentially distract from the experience. The walls are composed of smooth concrete, and although a heavy and solid material, walking alongside the massive yet unadorned concrete walls provides a sense of weightlessness and a release of tension. The concrete is rather vibrant for the raw and aggressive material it is, but its use of low gloss coating creates a bright and airy effect, which when juxtaposed to a blue sky, has the potential to dissolve internal disturbances within its visitors, resulting in a state of pure Zen.
Aside from the materials used, Ando’s decisions for the layout of the museum’s floorplan and pathways closely resembles a narrative structure. It works on a macro and micro level, where the experience of the outside forces combines with the actual structure to create a play that results in a unified experience (Sussman). Our innate need for storytelling, social connection, and aesthetic contemplation come to fruition in the structure and space. With Naoshima as a tourist destination, many people visit from bustling towns such as Tokyo, or Osaka, and as they onboard the ferry which moves into the direction of the islands, the horizon of the city behind begins to blur, the fog and overcast surrounds them to the point of complete isolation with the exception of the surrounding ocean and the humming of the ferry’s motor. As visitors make their way into the island, they depart from the ‘real world,’ disconnecting from the energy of a busy city life. As the island appears, life appears once again, the body of land is there to support one’s existence. Exiting the ship and proceeding to the destination of Chichu Art Museum, visitors experience the lushness of the island’s natural elements, the winding turns of the road elevating to the top of the hill, the vast majestic sea, and beauty of the water crashing the cliffs. Deeper into the hill, the sensation of approach to the museum creates excitement. Upon arrival, visitors are instructed to wait. Although this is a public museum, the Japanese maintain respect for the experience, and regulate visitors by a queue process to eliminate overcrowding of the museum, which allows for a heightened sensitivity to the space.
As visitors enter the museum, the silence and simplicity of the walls, and mixture of natural and dark shadows provide guidance throughout the space. In-between each gallery exists an intermediary space with skylights, wall openings, and courtyards that brings in the outside world. The courtyards expose the natural ground beneath it, in the form of green grass or carefully placed jagged rocks. The geometric concrete structure wraps itself around the ground which includes pathway to walk around and focus on these natural elements. This shifts the visitor’s attention to the ground, raising its significance, and dedicating a viewing that revolves around the ground, literally. Continuing through the multiple level floorplan and complex pathways can bring confusion but somehow still remains orderly (Willems). These intermediary spaces allow for contemplation of the recently experienced artwork, and projection of these ideas onto a space can be beneficial for clarity and greater synthesis. The cut outs in the land which allow for natural light exposure are clean geometric shapes, such as squares, rectangles and triangles. When seen from a bird’s eye view, it appears much like a playful graphic design poster, but instead of paper, it sits on top of uneven terrain. This juxtaposition of geometric and organic form demonstrates a certain polarity which is inherent in humans and nature, to be orderly and instinctive.
Each artist’s space is designed to harmonize and enhance the experience of the installations. James Turrell directed all aspects of the space for his installation, Open Field, ranging from the overall dimensions to the flooring finish. The same scenario was applied or Walter de Maria’s installation, Time/Timeless/No Time, where careful use of sunlight and acoustics plays into the overall experience (Corcoran). Claude Monet’s gallery uses natural lighting to eliminate the setting which seeps in through the crevices where the wall and ceiling meet. This allows for the paintings to be wrapped by the light while also changing to the overall tone which is dependent on the season, weather, or time of day. The flooring for the Claude Monet exhibit is comprised of tiny hand placed white marble cubes, which gently reflect the natural light that diffuses the room.
Upon completion of the exhibit, the cafe holds a space to release the new perspectives and feelings back into the origin point, which is your homeland. The cafe’s chairs and tables are arranged in a classroom fashion, overlooking the ocean through floor to ceiling windows, with a gentle touch of natural light flowing back into the cafe. Stepping out into the patio, an open area to walk over loose gravel, scrape through natural shrub, feel the gentle breeze and see the teal ocean is a great way to connect with nature with all the senses. Through the shrubs exists a picturesque private cove with mocha colored sand.
With all of the unique characteristic within the museum, Tadao Ando neatly wraps each section, and weaves them together to create a narrative that heightens the significance of the space and the art within it.
The environmental impact was an important factor for Ando in designing this space. Japanese culture emphasizes great consideration of others and their surroundings. To bury a place of significance as a demonstration of respect to nature, we bury the notion of monumentality yet maintain the essence of architecture and its appropriate experience. When observing a common structure, such as skyscrapers and apartment buildings, the erect buildings are functionally correct, but remains uncanny. Not only does an erect building obstruct views, it covers the natural elements below it, and stands in isolation, disregarding the ground that support its existence. Architects such as Frank Lloyd Wright and Tadao Ando understood these issues, and skillfully integrated architecture with nature. These organic structures allow its inhabitants to be in tune and united with their natural surroundings, and as a result, self-aware.
While in the space, it seems almost like a dream state, or that of a video game, where only what’s in the interface is depicted and there is a vast empty space beyond its boundaries. While inside, all that is visible is the sky, which is also shared by all species in this planet, regardless of region. The use of light’s energy as it runs with the diagonal and sharp edges of the concrete creates a sense motion and velocity. The concrete stands mute, as if it is powerless, but is well aware of its solidity and mass. Walking through the concrete, the use of shadows and lighting transform the concretes from open and exposed, to eerie and mysterious. It can seem similar to American correctional institutions, primarily because it obstructs the outside view to the outside world, but for a short period of time, this obstruction can be beneficial for the desired experience of the museum, as it can immediately shift one’s sense of placement, and move into a spatial experience intended by Ando.
From a modernist perspective, monumentality and practicality have played significant roles in guiding the development and presentation of objects and structures. The idea of burying something deep in the ground shows a level of gratitude for nature, and this burying of solid structure, one that is linear and geometric, and truly architectural, yet immersed within an organic mass of dirt and rocks, demonstrates that neither the human nor the planet are better than the other. We are together a natural phenomenon, of built of mass, and at an atomic level composed of the same material. We need order to make sense of things, so we create pathways, and need shelter and safety. But we are human and thus part of nature, and despite our rational, practical, and aesthetic needs, we need to become one with the grounds we walk on.
We seek friendship and acknowledgement of highly intelligent and living forms, such as other humans and domesticated animals, but disregard other forms of life, such as the shrub that we walk over and tear to pieces for our own good. Perhaps the ocean and the rocks hold a relationship that is not entirely evident, but it is there, and we intervene on these plays between natural elements without consideration outside of consequences that can put ourselves at risk, we’re always of the highest order. Entering formal, above grounds structure, one cannot help but to feel significance of themselves, and the earth acting as deadweight support. For someone of high significance both culturally and politically, Ando demonstrates that one can be humble, yet enlivened, in that greater humility and self-worth do not hold an inverse relationship, for it is only the that is been set in place within our cultures and systems that creates this false perception, and awakens us to the passive soil that has been keeping us afloat in life our entire existence. To disregard these elements is shameful, and a greater level of awareness and appreciation is detrimental to create a check on our own relationships amongst ourselves, and a realization of who we are as a species.
To use such a common and mundane material for decades and still remain relevant is a remarkable accomplishment that Ando has proven in his work. The Chichu Art Museum will maintain its magic because our practical world will not have the capacity to achieve this level of consideration for nature. We’re headed in a self-destructive path. Our lifestyle requirements are staggering at unprecedented rates and we cannot escape its velocity unless significant changes are made. We must find greater appreciation and respect for our natural resources and rethink our existence as natural beings. For now, the best we can do is appreciate the potential relationships that could exist, the potential of life that could be. The consequence of our actions, such as global warming and rising sea levels are natures response to gradually eliminate our existence, unless we can respect nature to the level required for a sustainable life. In the end, all ideologies, perspectives will be washed away by the ocean, so that the earth and its respectful habitants can continue to live in harmony. At least the ocean and cliffs continue their play, and hopefully the next time an intelligent life springs up, they can learn from our mistakes and indefinitely maintain a respect for nature.
Work Cited
Itzkowitz, Laura. “How the Benesse Art Site Naoshima Revitalized Japanese Islands.” Architectural Digest, 26 May 2017, www.architecturaldigest.com/story/how-the-benesse-art-site-naoshima-revitalized-a-cluster-of-japanese-islands.
Coughlan, Kate. “Japanese Businessman Mr. Fukutake Shares How Art Can Change the World.” ThisNZlife, 27 Aug. 2017, thisnzlife.co.nz/art-world-view/.
“Chichu Art Museum | Art.” Benesse Art Site Naoshima, benesse-artsite.jp/en/art/chichu.html.
Blaser, Werner, and Tadao Ando. Tadao Ando: Sunken Courts: Bauen in Die Erde. Niggli, 2007.
Corcoran, Dagny “Right Place, Right Action, Right Time: Tadao Ando and Walter De Maria.” Unframed, unframed.lacma.org/2013/12/12/right-place-right-action-right-time-tadao-ando-and-walter-de-maria.
Willems, Edwin P. Architecture and Psychology: beyond the Honeymoon. Rice University, Department of Architecture, 1967.
Sussman, Ann, and Justin B. Hollander. Cognitive Architecture: Designing for How We Respond to the Built Environment. 2015.
