Essay

Restore, not raze

By Karen Severns

In his influential book Dogs and Demons, Alex Kerr laments the corruption of Japan's architectural heritage. With its superb craftsmanship, its use of natural materials and its sublime minimalism, traditional design was superseded in the 20th century by what Kerr terms "an old-fashioned idea of modernism, in which bright, shiny surfaces show that one is wealthy and technologically advanced, and quiet, low-key environments suggest backwardness."

Japan's embrace of the new eventually begat a construction state. The building industry is now a behemoth: twice as large per capita as its counterparts in Europe and the United States, it employs 6 million workers and accounts for 10 percent of GDP. When such a huge workforce must be kept busy, it's no wonder that the tacit national policy is to scrap and rebuild.

In its frenzy to reconstruct after the Allied fire-bombings of Tokyo in 1945, the post-World War II government relied on land speculation to drive development. Today, more than ever, only the land matters, providing a consistent financial incentive for landowners to redevelop. The city has come to represent a kind of Xtreme Urbanism, with each new megaproject displacing greater numbers of older houses and shops in the race to build the Next Big Thing.

Tokyo's 2016 Olympics bid is a case in point: although its backers aim to keep it "sustainable," plans have been unveiled for dozens of new building complexes and transport lines. One need only look as far as Beijing — where the Olympics were an excuse to replace reminders of the city's less prosperous past with a sparkling new skyline on steroids — to imagine what effect 2016 would have on Tokyo's cityscape.

The West is not immune from rapacious developers, but we have long recognized the importance of preserving our architectural legacy. We know that once we lose all our physical connections to our collective past, we've lost the record of our social development, of our roots — the essential character of our cities and our nations. Restoring, rather than razing, older buildings has the added benefits of bringing people together, revitalizing communities and boosting tourism.

Preservation and creative reuse of historic structures, coupled with innovative eco-construction of new architecture, are Tokyo's best hope for achieving sustainability and maintaining its Great City status. So the next time you hear about a preservation group's efforts to save a link to yesterday — like Tokyo Station, the Central Post Office, the Nakagin Capsule Tower or the Hanae Mori Building — why not help out? Sign a petition, make a donation, join a demonstration — do something to help prevent the further destruction of Tokyo's cultural heritage. We can only guarantee a bright future if we don't turn out the lights on the past.

Shukan ST: Sept. 12, 2008

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