#68 May 13, 2025

The Two Expos and Me

The 1970 Osaka Expo was an event that had a large impact on me. More accurately, I experienced a disappointment that was so large it changed the direction of my life.

During the first Tokyo Olympics in 1964, I was in the fourth grade, and when I saw the Yoyogi National Stadium designed by Kenzo Tange which stretches up towards heaven, I was overwhelmed by the form which symbolized the momentum of high growth in Japan, inspiring me to take on the task of becoming an architect.

However, from the latter half of the 1960s, a number of pollution problems emerged one after the other starting with Minamata disease, the river near my house began to have a strange smell, and I started having various doubts and anxiety concerning the job of an architect who is involved in the building of huge structures known as architecture.

During summer vacation when I was in my first year of high school while I was experiencing this feeling of confusion, I hoped that I would find an answer to these questions at the Osaka Expo. The word “harmony” in the commentary on the expo included in the theme of “Progress and Harmony for Mankind” expressed consideration for the environment, and Kisho Kurokawa who designed a number of the pavilions and appeared to be a leading figure for the Expo was a new hero for me at that time. Although Kurokawa carried on the modernism of Tange who was his mentor, he proposed organic theory to replace mechanical theory, leading the metabolism movement (metabolism of architecture and cities), and I felt empathy for the advocation of the revival of cluttered lively streets in Asia as an alternative to the model of monumental European plazas adopted by Tange.

However, my impression of the Expo for which I had high hopes was terrible. The festival plaza designed by Tange was crude, and not on the same level at all as the magnificent space of the Yoyogi National Stadium, and the pavilions designed by Kurokawa based on the theme of capsules that metabolize appeared to be monsters made from steel that had no relationship to living things or Asia. The long waiting time in the hot summer heat accentuated this bad impression. I was disappointed in Tange who was a god and my hero Kurokawa, and it felt like my dream of becoming an architect was fading away. I did not know what I should aim for anymore.

I found two things that I liked at the Osaka Expo in the midst of this despair. One was the Swiss Pavilion, which was rather defiant, consisting of a large tree made from metal that was planted in a small plaza instead of a pavilion. You did not have to wait in line to see it, the structure provided shade, and it felt like this defiant structure was a criticism of the large buildings.

The other structure that I liked was the cafeteria at the French Pavilion that I visited, which was dark as it was near closing time – I did not enter the pavilion itself because I wanted to avoid the long line – where I saw a tray design that I loved very much for its simplicity and sharpness. I was strongly impressed by the uneven surface of the entire tray which functioned admirably as a serving dish, and the knife, fork and other cutlery also had the same rhythm and feel of particles that matched the human body.

I felt strongly that I wanted to do the type of work where I would design small structures and things that are thoroughly small and close to the human body. Although I had become disenchanted with exaggerated structures, I found new hope in small defiant structures.

I ended up having the opportunity to design four pavilions in Osaka 55 years after the 1970 Osaka Expo which became a large turning point for me. In contrast to the heat of 1970, I walked around the 2025 Osaka Expo grounds when the Expo was opening while a cold wind was blowing, and felt a little relieved after confirming my four pavilions were adequately defiant.

If the 1970 Osaka Expo is characterized as a collection of steel and concrete monsters, the 2025 Osaka Expo can be summed up as an “Expo Featuring Wood.” I think this is how it will be evaluated in the future. There is a huge wooden ring, and the Japan Pavilion and other venues are brimming with wood. However, none of the pavilions that I designed as the leader of the wood building boom, headed by the Japan National Stadium, adopt wood as the leading character, making them adequately defiant at an “Expo Featuring Wood.” Even for the Qatar Pavilion which actually uses wood in a traditional Qatari Dhow boat, the wood is hidden behind the white sail tent, resulting in water and the white sail playing the leading roles, illustrating the fact that attention was paid to eliminating the expression of wood.

The reason that so much effort was made to eliminate wood as a feature consists of an attempt to go against the age when the expression of wood as a surface material played a dominating role. The theme that I wanted to relay at this Expo, a venue after my wooden stadium, is to tell people that what is needed in this age consists of explaining that wood is an important element in natural circulation, rather than the texture of wood or the expression of wood.

Simply stated, wood must not become a type of fashion. I think that architects must defy current trends, not adopt what is in fashion, or in other words, be slightly cynical and defiant. Therefore, I felt uncomfortable with the theme of an “Expo Featuring Wood.”

From this perspective, the structure for which I pursued the theme of wood as an element of natural circulation to the deepest level consists of the EARTH MART, which I created together with Kundo Koyama, one of the eight themed pavilions that dug down into the theme of the overall Expo. The messy thatched roof plays the leading role at the EARTH MART, consisting of an overwhelming presence at the Expo venue which is full of smooth manmade materials and smooth lumber. I learned at Maniwa City in Okayama Prefecture where they continue to harvest a large volume of grass that the grass which is used as the material for thatched roofs (of which a large percentage is silver grass growing on grassy plains and common reed grass growing near water) plays a larger role in community-based forests than wood in natural circulation, environmental conservation and biodiversity. In response to the current situation where everyone thinks of the usage of wood when talking about community-based forests, I wanted to point out that grass plays a very important role.

The thing that I wanted to present at this Expo was the important role that materials play in daily life, such as the leading role that the hidden grass plays in the community-based forest at EARTH MART, or the white fabric which is the material used for the desert tent at the Qatar Pavilion. The rope used for naval operation at the Portugal Pavilion, and the bamboo used for the bamboo façade at the Malaysia Pavilion are materials that are indispensable for daily life, as well as absolutely essential materials that connect tiny weak human beings with the large tough environment. I thought that I wanted to design a venue where you can feel the relationship of materials to people, rather than use materials as the cladding on buildings. The reason for this is that I felt that the relationship between materials and people is the best way to tell people who visit about that place and the things in that country in the easiest way to understand.

Focusing on this area as a means to reorganize architecture which is exaggerated and too large was the thing that I wanted to do at this Expo. I hope to revive architecture with small materials in the same manner that the small trays in the cafeteria at the French Pavilion at the 1970 Osaka Expo held on to my interest in architecture. I have entrusted the 2025 Expo with this serious yet defiant ambition.