Interviste con Takatoku Nishi

I studied for two years at an interior design college in Japan and graduated in 2018. That year I was unable to get the job I wanted and realised that there was a difference between my way of thinking about space and mainstream design in Japan. Then, in order to follow my own path, I re-entered university as a self-taught student. Then, in 2021, I completed my PhD. Now in 2023, I am enrolled in the Department of Architecture at Tokyo University of the Arts for the second time as a PhD student.

In my childhood, I was in a family environment where we moved very often. I was looking at architectural drawings all the time and became very particular about buildings. Because of this influence, I dreamt of becoming an architect when I was nine years old.

After entering university, I had the opportunity to learn about light. From there, I was fascinated by the space of light and have been pursuing it ever since.

I am continuing my research on the subject of 'light space'. My idea of light is light produced by natural phenomena. To achieve this, I focus on optical phenomena. Another important element is the force of nature. The space I create uses optics, structural science and meteorology.

It is exciting when you find an idea. I feel alive when I am creating. And when I am finished, I just immerse myself in the work.

It is shaped by all of its previous experiences.

I now want to stay and do research abroad. I am particularly interested in Finland and the Netherlands. In these countries, I would like to research sunlight to make the natural environment and architectural spaces resonate with each other.

If you think you are right, you should go ahead with it.

I believe that originality is lost if it becomes trendy.

When I don't have deadlines, I study, sketch ideas and experiment. And When I have a deadline, I work on it from morning till night.

My inspiration comes from the forces of nature. I always want to keep my own style.

For me, good design is first and foremost about clarity. I don't believe in the power of design if it requires a long explanation. Another important criterion is whether the theme or concept is consistent with the actual product.

When it is made public, it should be presented as completed. However, if you find improvements or discoveries, you can remake them again.

At the moment, it is 'Ripple'. This is because it is completely personal and has created the ideal light architecture. And the fact that this work has won various prizes is a sign that it is changing the concept of architecture in Japan.

It is Peter Zumthor, Carlo Scarpa, Alvar Aalto, and more. Particularly, Bruder-Klaus-Feldkapelle by Peter Zumthor.

My lifestyle is always connected to my work. for example, I spend time in nature, watch films and read books. I am also constantly studying. Recently, I have been focusing on studying meteorology. When I am working, I always listen to music. My favourite is Red Hot Chili Peppers.

I basically research and work individually. I have also set up a duo, so in some cases I also work there.

I believe that design and art have the power to move people. Using that power to lead them in the right direction is something we can do.

For an individual like me, winning an award has a role to play in ensuring that my brand strength is enhanced. It can be a major turning point, especially if you are a young person.

My ideas often stem from a deep appreciation of nature and its harmonious forms. I draw inspiration from the organic shapes, textures, and colors found in natural landscapes, which I reinterpret into designs. This connection to nature not only guides my aesthetic choices but also informs sustainable design practices, ensuring that my creations have a minimal environmental footprint.

Ultimately, my goal was to design a space that feels alive and constantly evolving, reflecting the beauty and complexity of the natural world while providing a unique and memorable experience for those who experience it.

Regarding the future of this award-winning design, I plan to further explore how the evolving beauty and power of nature can be uniquely experienced and expressed through architectural space. This project serves as an initial exploration and foundation for these ideas, and I aim to continue refining and expanding upon them in future designs.

It took approximately about 10 months from the initial idea to design, fabrication, and construction.

I designed this particular concept based on the discovery of intriguing phenomena caused by light. This design wasn't commissioned but rather emerged from my personal exploration of optical phenomena and architectural space, culminating from my doctoral studies. This approach enabled me to create a design that innovatively responds to experiencing natural changes through architecture.

I currently retain the rights to my design and have no plans to sell or lease production rights. I am exploring options for its future development and may consider producing it myself, aligning with my long-term goals and vision for the project.

One of my favorite designs is Peter Zumthor's "Bruder Klaus Field Chapel" and Juha Leiviskä's "Church of the Good Shepherd." These buildings have allowed me to experience the poetic essence of light and spatial atmosphere firsthand.

The name of my design serves simply as a means of identification, without any particular deep meaning attached. In this case, I named it 'Ripple' to reflect its simple concept of generating ripple-like spatial phenomena. In reality, I don't feel strongly about the name. Much like how natural landscapes don't have specific names, I simply want to create an experience.

For this project, I started with zoning using sketches and freehand drawings, followed by model making. Subsequently, I utilized 3D modeling software and drafting tools to progress the design, and finally prepared for construction. During the construction phase, various carpentry tools and power tools were also employed.

The foundation of my design was influenced by data obtained through illuminance meters for controlling spatial lighting and anemometers to determine average wind speeds in the environment. Additionally, I conducted research on typical weather conditions and precipitation probabilities in Tokyo, Japan, during that period, along with crucial solar angles and irradiation times. I utilized this atmospheric data to inform the creation of phenomena in the design.

One of the most challenging aspects was the structural design of the architecture. I had to figure out and research methods for wood joinery and assembly independently to make it happen, but I still had concerns about the structural integrity. From this experience, I have now re-enrolled in the doctoral program in the Department of Architecture at the same university to further study structural aspects.

I am not particularly adept at using social media or promoting myself and my work to the public. However, I have great confidence in my designs. My motivation for submitting to competitions and awards stems from the desire to share my work with as many people as possible and to potentially benefit my future endeavors.

I studied for two years at an interior design college in Japan and graduated in 2018. That year I was unable to get the job I wanted and realised that there was a difference between my way of thinking about space and mainstream design in Japan. Then, in order to follow my own path, I re-entered university as a self-taught student. Then, in 2021, I completed my PhD. Now in 2023, I am enrolled in the Department of Architecture at Tokyo University of the Arts for the second time as a PhD student.

In my childhood, I was in a family environment where we moved very often. I was looking at architectural drawings all the time and became very particular about buildings. Because of this influence, I dreamt of becoming an architect when I was nine years old.

I was only thinking about space creation.

I am continuing my research on the subject of 'light space'. My idea of light is light produced by natural phenomena. To achieve this, I focus on optical phenomena. Another important element is the force of nature. The space I create uses optics, structural science and meteorology.

That is what time tells us.

It's all about first impressions.

If I had money and land at my disposal, besides time, I would realise the proposed works I am considering.

It is Atmosphere.

Peter Zumthor, Carlo Scarpa, Alvar Aalto, and more.

Bruder-Klaus-Feldkapelle by Peter Zumthor

A wide range of experiences is needed.

carpenter specializing in temple, shrine, etc. construction

Design is an act of purpose.

Based on previous experience, the minimum time required is two weeks. The longest is two years.

Location information gathering.

Ensure that the concept is not blurred.

It varies according to the field of design. My idea of space is that it has a different dimension to trends.

My mentor Satoshi Uchihara

I think so.

In my childhood, I grew up in a family environment where we moved very often. This frequent moving exposed me to various architectural styles and designs. I found myself constantly looking at architectural drawings and becoming very particular about buildings. Because of this influence, I dreamt of becoming an architect when I was nine years old.

Takatoku NISHI | Constructor・Phenomenon Creator・Ph.D.

Takatoku Nishi is captivated by the transitory yet intense beauty of nature's ever-changing, fleeting scenes. He identifies atmospheric optical phenomena within these scenes and reconstructs them through 'materials' and 'structures'. This approach creates a unique space of light, offering a spatial experience unlike any other. One characteristic of his work is that it does not simply imitate nature but uses geometric forms to evoke a different impression from nature's organic shapes. Additionally, Nishi incorporates natural forces such as sunlight and wind into his artworks, collaborating with nature to create new scenes.

Nishi consistently engages with the mystique of light while keeping in mind the 'Atmosphere' that emanates from his work. This atmosphere is interpreted as the true nature of the unique qualities of space that cannot be captured through paintings or videos. It is created by harmonizing the artwork with its surrounding environment. His artworks serve as a medium to bring the spectacle of nature closer to us, reminding us of the events occurring in the here and now and the concept of time, thereby evoking the beauty of familiar reality.

For me, design is an act of purpose. It is about creating meaningful connections between the environment, human behavior, and the ever-changing world around us. My inspiration often comes from the natural world, where I observe the intricate and harmonious designs that exist in nature. Design, to me, is a way to translate these observations into structures and spaces that resonate with people on a deeper level.

I especially enjoy designing works where the natural environment and the space resonate with each other. These projects allow me to blend natural elements with architectural forms, creating spaces that feel both harmonious and dynamic. I find great satisfaction in integrating sunlight, wind, and natural materials into my designs, as these elements bring a unique, ever-changing quality to the space. By doing so, I aim to create experiences that connect people more deeply with their surroundings and highlight the beauty of the natural world within built environments.

One of my favorite designs is Peter Zumthor's "Bruder Klaus Field Chapel" and Juha Leiviskä's "Church of the Good Shepherd." These buildings have allowed me to experience the poetic essence of light and spatial atmosphere firsthand.

My first design project involved lighting fixtures. It was intended to create a dramatic effect by enhancing shadows and contrasts, effectively sculpting the darkness within a space.

Wood, acrylic, glass, etc.

Atmosphere.

Whether there are differences between the theme of the work and the actual.

It is inspired by the scene created by natural phenomena.

I am continuing my research on the subject of 'light space'. My idea of light is light produced by natural phenomena. To achieve this, I focus on optical phenomena. Another important element is the force of nature. The space I create uses optics, structural science and meteorology.

I live in Tokyo, Japan. What I am aware of as my influences are the world of Japanese gardens and tea houses. In particular, I actually incorporate the 'MITATE' method into my work.

One of the advantages of living in Tokyo is the easy and immediate access to high quality materials. Also, various books are translated into Japanese and I have almost no trouble with my work.

The disadvantage is that Japan does not place much importance on art and research. You can get a glimpse of this compared to other countries.

Repeat research and experimentation.

Repeat research and experimentation.

Based on previous experience, the minimum time required is two weeks. The longest is two years.

I prefer to be contacted via my website or via Facebook.

The optical phenomenon I discovered was actually very small, with a diameter of less than one centimeter. Inside the straw, light undergoes multiple reflections and then produces a diffraction effect upon exiting, creating a ripple-like movement. This intriguing and beautiful quality of light inspired me to create an architectural space where people could experience it in a pure form. Translating this into an architectural scale was a series of challenges. Initially, I conducted simple experiments with a 1/30-scale model to observe the light effect, roughly estimating the spatial height, pipe size, and the level of dimness required to make the effect visible. Since artificial light was used in these experiments, I calculated whether it would be feasible to recreate this effect under natural sunlight when scaled to actual dimensions. Once it became clear that the space could function at a height of 4 meters under sunlight, I began parametric studies at a 1:1 scale, experimenting with various materials and sizes, ultimately achieving a maximum effect size of one meter. The design of this architecture integrates the discovered light phenomenon while incorporating the unique characteristics of the site and environment into the spatial layout.

The ripple-like light phenomenon within the straw, which marked the beginning of “Ripple,” was created by moving the light source. I wanted to express this entirely through natural forces. So, I began by gathering information about sunlight. Researching the solar altitude in Tokyo, where I live, I found that the sun reaches an angle of about 32° at the winter solstice and around 78° at the summer solstice. Since the exhibition was scheduled for winter, I decided that directing sunlight from the side into the pipes would be more challenging than capturing it from above. By capturing winter light, I believed I could create the phenomenon at various times and seasons, which led me to design around this specific angle. The 31.6 degrees was calculated based on the solar angle during sunny periods of the exhibition timeframe. Ultimately, the design can also capture sunlight at angles as low as 7 degrees in the evening. Next, for the wind speed, I researched the average annual wind speed for the site during the design phase. I gathered data from general online databases and then took actual measurements with an anemometer, comparing the two. From these, I calculated an average wind speed of approximately 1.5 m/s. Knowing this wind speed and the solar angle allowed me to create a mechanism to capture these forces ideally. In other words, by thoroughly understanding the natural forces surrounding the architecture, I maximized their potential to create the desired light phenomenon.

As a Japanese person, I have long been accustomed to the unique atmosphere of Japanese architecture. I have always been particularly interested in the imaginative beauty encapsulated within spaces like traditional tea rooms and temples in Japan. I believe this beauty arises from elements such as natural sounds and air, combined with the sense of incompleteness that comes from not seeing everything at once—a quality that connects to darkness as well. In Japanese aesthetics, there is a concept known as “In Praise of Shadows,” advocated by Jun'ichiro Tanizaki, which extols the subtlety and beauty of shadows in spaces. To me, an architectural space is something that people feel, and through it, they imagine. I had been reading Peter Zumthor’s books and collections of his works for some time, and about a year before creating “Ripple,” I visited his Bruder-Klaus-Kapelle for architectural research. I was fortunate to have the space to myself. For a long time, I immersed myself in the space, experiencing the light, but also the temperature, the sound of the wind, the scent of the grass, the reflections in puddles, and the light on the walls—I truly felt the space with all my senses. Entering his space, a story would naturally unfold, and the space felt as if it were constantly alive. It was truly a memorable experience.Zumthor’s “atmosphere” involves people recalling past comforts upon entering a space. I interpreted this as the scenes created by natural phenomena. Thus, the Japanese concept of “imagination” within space, which I inherently valued, aligned with Zumthor’s concept of “atmosphere.” Through this fusion, the completed space combines Japanese aesthetic sensibilities while transcending them, offering visitors a spatial experience rich with narrative that awakens the pure feelings humans have held since ancient times.

From the beginning of the design process, I felt strongly that I didn’t want the space to be a dark room. If the space were simply dark, it would lose its architectural meaning in this project. In a room designed solely to view light phenomena, the shape of the space becomes inconsequential, making the need for new design redundant. I found inspiration for a space that is both comfortable and creative from traditional tea rooms and Peter Zumthor’s spaces. In my experience, the lighting level in the Bruder-Klaus-Kapelle was about 20lx. Using this as a reference, I designed the louvered wall system to achieve a light level between 20lx and 40lx. Simply creating openings would not produce the ideal brightness, so I used a silver-white paint on the outer wall to increase reflectivity, channeling light into the space. Conversely, I painted the interior walls with charcoal-black paint to lower the overall brightness. Additionally, the floor is finished in white plaster with added gravel for a unique, natural texture. The main stage for the light phenomena is the floor, which needs to be white to render the movements of light visible. The walls help to control the reflection from the floor. Through this design, I achieved an illumination level of 30lx. As an additional effect, the light coming through the louvers naturally connects the ceiling pipes and floor with concentrated beams, guiding people’s movement. This creates an urge to explore deeper into the space, allowing visitors not only to observe but to become one with the light phenomena on the floor.

The light phenomenon only appears effectively within a cylindrical form, so I began by testing various pipe materials, including acrylic, mirror, film, stainless steel, and aluminum—essentially any material I could obtain. Under specific conditions, I examined the light effects of each, and acrylic pipes proved to be the most efficient. The testing involved setting a fixed distance between the light source and the floor, then conducting a parametric study to determine the optimal thickness, length, and material. Acrylic consistently yielded the best results. Once I selected acrylic as the material, I focused on finding the dimensions that best integrated with the spatial design. If the pipes were too short, the effect wouldn’t manifest properly within the room’s height. A diameter of 80mm provided the ideal balance between spatial appearance and the desired light phenomenon. I sandblasted the surface of the pipes because if they were left transparent, the light would diffuse and escape. Sandblasting was essential to confine the light, allowing it to travel through the pipes efficiently and reach the floor. Moreover, if the pipe walls were too thick, the edges would glow intensely, similar to an optical fiber, creating unnecessary light that would interfere with the effect. To reduce this, I limited the wall thickness to 2mm. In the future, I would like to experiment with glass or other materials if given the opportunity to further develop this concept.

Architectural designs that incorporate natural elements, especially natural light, have existed for centuries. For instance, in Japan, there are spaces like Katsura Imperial Villa and Jōdo-dō Hall at Jōdo-ji Temple, while globally, the Pantheon and Le Thoronet Abbey also come to mind. The method of allowing space to transform with the sun and moon’s movements has been passed down to today’s architecture. Of course, architects I admire deeply, like Peter Zumthor and Finnish architect Juha Leiviskä, also embody this approach. What distinguishes my architecture from these existing examples is the way it offers a more kinetic transformation—a direct, visible expression of natural forces within the space, almost like kinetic art. The purpose of this building also differs: it’s not a space for prayer, but rather a place to fulfill a simple desire to experience nature’s forces within an architectural setting. To me, architecture represents the largest human-made space that can visualize and convey the beauty and power of nature in our everyday surroundings. Unfortunately, Japan, being a country prone to natural disasters like earthquakes and typhoons, may have fewer individuals who seek this kind of architectural space, as it requires maintenance and has no other function beyond immersing people in nature’s forces. However, I believe that, in the future, not only in Japan but globally, we may see an increase in architectural spaces that simply connect people to natural elements. People tend to feel attached to what they can see.

This component was indeed the most crucial element in this architecture, and its development required extensive research. The challenge was to direct sunlight at a 30-degree angle into vertically standing pipes. The material study began with various lenses—concave, convex, and Fresnel lenses. However, while these lenses could focus or diffuse light, they couldn’t direct sunlight in a way that maintained its intensity. Through trials, I found that prism glass was effective for manipulating light, and I experimented with different prism shapes. Taking into account the requirement for wind-driven rotation, the triangular prism proved to be the most effective shape. Using the calculated wind speed of 1.5 m/s as a basis, I then gradually developed a mechanism with a circulator to ensure smooth movement. I remember the joy and excitement I felt when I attached a prototype to the ceiling and saw it move with the wind for the first time.

What I focused on in designing this space was achieving a balance where neither the optical phenomena nor the architecture itself would dominate. Instead, I wanted the light, space, and architectural form to harmonize. If the space were too dark or the structure were a simple cube, the phenomena might overpower the experience. Conversely, if the space were too bright or the architecture too complex, the phenomena would lose focus. The appearance of the acrylic pipes, for instance, could easily become distorted if not handled carefully. To achieve balance, I often rely on geometric forms to guide the design, and this project was no exception. I find that capturing natural forces within a geometric structure creates a unique movement and scenery distinct from typical natural landscapes. The spacing between pipes, set at 1 meter, was based on the desired effect size and the sense of pleasant overlap. The zigzag arrangement of the pipes stems from both the site’s shape and initial architectural concepts. The wall construction also follows this principle. Ultimately, I adjusted details on-site to ensure harmony. During installation, I even removed a pipe that felt excessive and rebuilt the ceiling accordingly. By allowing for both spatial and optical "gaps," visitors are encouraged to discover connections within the space.

I see this architecture as having a role similar to that of a rainbow. A rainbow appears when conditions like post-rain humidity, sun angle, and human perspective align in just the right way. When people see a rainbow, they often find it beautiful, rare, or even feel a sense of good fortune. It might even spark a sense of wonder or adventure, like searching for hidden treasure. A rainbow is created by water droplets in the atmosphere acting as spherical lenses, dispersing sunlight to reach our eyes in a unique way. With just these water droplets, the everyday landscape transforms dramatically. This architecture works similarly. The environment is the same, with the usual sunlight and wind, but by integrating these natural elements, the building allows people to notice the beauty within their daily surroundings. With only a small added component, the familiar beauty of nature becomes visible. And just like a rainbow, these phenomena appear only in unique, unrepeatable ways. In Japanese, we have the term "ichigo ichie," which reflects this sense of fleeting, once-in-a-lifetime beauty. Recognizing this can heighten our awareness of the present moment and allow us to appreciate the transience of life.

"Ripple" was my first opportunity to create an ideal full-scale architectural work. I have long pursued research and projects on light and natural phenomena to connect people with the environment, but these previous works were often smaller-scale experiments compared to my vision. Being able to realize "Ripple" and to receive an award for it was incredibly gratifying. It felt rewarding to have the culmination of my work recognized both domestically and internationally. Next, I am particularly interested in integrating phenomena such as the aurora and atmospheric particles into architectural spaces. Since 2023, I've had opportunities to visit Finland, where I’ve been researching architecture that incorporates light in unique ways. I am currently exploring ways to translate these observations of natural phenomena into new architectural forms. As I am not yet working with specific clients, the primary challenges are securing funding and finding suitable sites. Lately, I've been dedicating significant time to grant applications and administrative work, which has been a bit frustrating as I’m eager to return to experimental work. However, I am committed to creating new architectural projects in the near future that build upon and expand the themes of "Ripple."