Interviews with Masato Sekiya

I originally studied oil painting at an art university in Tokyo. After graduation, through an introduction from my father, I began working for a construction company. Around my tenth year there, the company assigned me to assist a well-known architect in Kyoto. This became an important turning point for me, as I began to learn the fundamental logic and principles of architectural design.

For the following ten years, I continued working at the construction company while spending my days off at the architect's studio in Kyoto. After twenty years in the construction industry, I finally established my own architectural practice.

I first opened my studio in Nara, then expanded to Kyoto, and later established a studio in Tokyo as well. Throughout my career, I have been fortunate to work with many wonderful clients.

I usually begin with the “problem” of a project. I look at its weaknesses, difficult requirements, restrictions, or other challenges, and consider how they can be transformed into a new design. I try to turn what initially appears to be a disadvantage into one of the project's greatest strengths.

My fundamental approach is to discover a system that is unique to each project and allow the design to emerge naturally from that system.

Recently, I have also been experimenting with the integration of hand drawing, craftsmanship, and AI. I make physical mock-ups or models when it is necessary to share and understand a form spatially with clients or members of the design team.

When I first put a pencil to a blank sheet of paper, I feel something similar to turning the first page of a new book. There is a strong sense of excitement about not yet knowing what will appear.

Another important moment comes when something that existed only in my mind, and which I have shared with clients and staff through drawings, CG images, and models, finally appears as a real building in front of me.

At that moment, I feel a particular kind of joy, but also a certain sense of fear. Architecture becomes real, enters people's lives, and remains in the world. I think that mixture of excitement, joy, and responsibility is part of what makes architecture so fascinating to me.

One thing that has influenced me is learning to communicate reasonably well in English.

Language ability is important even within one's own native language, but being able to communicate in another language also reveals differences in the way people categorize things, think about problems, and approach the design process in different cultures.

Those differences can introduce entirely new perspectives when considering a project. I believe communication skills, including the ability to understand different ways of thinking, are extremely important for an architect.

Before becoming an independent architect, I worked as an architectural designer in a construction company for twenty years after graduating from art university.

During those twenty years, I was involved in many different projects and met an almost unimaginable number of clients, engineers, craftspeople, consultants, and specialists. More than anything else, those twenty years taught me about people and about society.

In the future, I do not necessarily want to create large or spectacular projects. I would rather continue creating architecture that remains in people's memories—buildings that people may think about again years later.

I have also always wanted to test whether my architecture can communicate internationally. One day, even on a small scale, I would like to design a hotel or another place to stay in a beautiful natural environment somewhere outside Japan.

Never imitate other people.

When work is scarce, young designers may sometimes be tempted to look at somebody else's successful work and follow it. But if you imitate someone else and then feel that you have done a good job, you are actually denying the value of your own work.

Think with your own mind. Develop your own system for solving each project, and do not allow conventional assumptions to limit your thinking.

If I were to give someone aspiring to become an architectural designer one very practical piece of advice, I would say: begin by designing the X, Y, and Z sections of the site and the building.

Perhaps a more abstract or philosophical answer is expected, but I believe many architectural ideas are born from thinking in section.

Instead of beginning only with the plan or the appearance of a building, think simultaneously about the site, height, depth, light, air, movement, structure, and human experience in three dimensions. The section can reveal possibilities that are difficult to discover in plan alone.

At least I can say that my work is never boring. Sometimes things go well, sometimes they do not, and there is almost always something difficult to think about.

But occasionally, after thinking about a problem for a long time, an idea suddenly appears like a flash. Those moments are what keep me motivated.

Otherwise, my daily life is probably much like everyone else's. I wake up in the morning, work until the evening, and occasionally travel long distances to visit construction sites.

Whatever the latest design may be, I am interested in the underlying essence behind it.

I want to understand why something has appeared, what system or technology makes it possible, and what social or cultural conditions lie behind it.

I would never follow a design trend simply because of its appearance. I am much more interested in the hidden logic that produced that appearance.

I look at whether it has been created with aesthetic integrity and whether the system behind the design has been properly organized.

At the same time, truly remarkable design often reaches you before logic does. Sometimes the impression arrives first, and only afterward do you begin to understand why it works.

One thing I believe designers should avoid is making arbitrary design decisions simply for visual effect. If the underlying system is properly constructed, the appearance should emerge naturally from it. For me, that is one of the foundations of good design.

I believe a design should always leave some possibility for improvement. Design should be continuous.

I do not think anything is ever completed in an absolutely perfect form, because there is never only one answer.

At a certain point, of course, an architect has to make decisions and allow the project to be built. But that does not necessarily mean that every other possibility has disappeared. Even after completion, a project can continue to teach us something and influence the next project.

One of my most important works is Cliff House, which received the Platinum A' Design Award.

It is a small vacation house and fishing cabin for a doctor and his wife, located on a steep cliff beside a beautiful mountain stream deep in the mountains of Nara Prefecture.

The site had almost no flat ground. The fundamental challenge was how to accommodate both a car and a living space on such an extremely steep site—in other words, how to transform what seemed like an enormous disadvantage into the main architectural attraction of the project.

The solution was to insert a concrete tube-like volume into the slope to create the living space, while allowing a car to be parked above it.

From inside the tube, the occupants can look across the river toward the mountains without visual interruption. Because almost none of the building rises above the upper level of the site, its visual impact on the surrounding natural environment is also reduced to an absolute minimum.

The project represents one of the clearest examples of my approach to architecture: finding the particular system hidden within the difficulties of a site and allowing the architecture to emerge from it.

Among architects, Tadao Ando is perhaps the one whose work attracts me most strongly. Glenn Murcutt of Australia is also one of the architects who has had the greatest influence on me.

There are many artists whom I consider extraordinary: Tadanori Yokoo, Tamara de Lempicka, and Tohaku Hasegawa, among others.

I also consider the great sculptors of Japan's medieval Kei school, such as Unkei and Kaikei, to be among the greatest artists in history.

Of course, there are countless remarkable architects, designers, and artists throughout the world. It would be impossible for me to choose only one.

My favorite city is Kyoto.

What fascinates me about Kyoto is that the underlying system of the city has multiplied over time and created an extraordinary collective order. At the same time, many of its traditional crafts are not simply preserved as historical artifacts; they remain active and alive today.

A historic city such as Kyoto, its architecture, and the way individual buildings form a larger urban whole provide many clues when we think about the possibilities of contemporary architecture.

I feel that we should continue to pay close attention to such cities. Within structures that have developed over hundreds of years, there are still many ideas hidden that may help us imagine entirely new architecture.

I work with a small team of staff members, all of whom have been with my studio for more than ten years.

It may be difficult to work in my office because the work requires a high level of skill. However, the most important quality I ask of my staff is actually something very simple: common sense.

That may sound obvious, but I believe it is extremely important. No matter how talented someone may be as a designer, it is difficult to work successfully with other people if they lack common sense.

A normal, grounded person with strong design ability is, in my experience, an exceptionally powerful combination—and surprisingly rare.

The most important reason I participate in international design awards is that I want to discover how far my work can communicate and be appreciated beyond Japan.

Another extremely valuable experience comes during the award ceremony and related events. At the parties, I have had opportunities to speak directly with architects and designers responsible for many excellent works from around the world. Those conversations are genuinely valuable to me.

Design awards also allow a project to be viewed from outside its immediate cultural and professional context, introduce the work to a much wider international audience, and create opportunities to meet other designers.

I am deeply honored to be selected as Designer of the Day, and sincerely grateful that A' Design Award has given attention to my small works.

I will continue trying to create good architecture and hope that more people around the world will have the opportunity to see and experience my work.

I was born in Uranouchi in Suzaki City, an area in the middle of Kochi prefecture which faces the Pacific Ocean. My mother’s family home is a house that was built in the Edo era, and consists of the motherhouse, with separate areas around it for the barn, storehouse, bathroom and dining room.

The town is nestled amongst mountains and fields and has a view in the distance of the ocean. There is just sufficient room for privacy and friendliness between houses, and around the buildings is space for sunshine, greenery and wind. I always looked forward to visits here during spring and summer vacations. This is the place where my basic idea of what a residence should be was formed.

This was a time and place where words such as ‘productivity’ and ‘industrialization’ had no relevance, and which provided a rich, human experience.

After a boyhood in Osaka and Nara, I attended Art University in Tokyo, with the ambition of being a painter.

My student days were very enjoyable. Every day, I immersed myself in work until all hours at the university studio, painting, erasing, repainting again and again, learning by trial and error, and discussing art with friends at our boardinghouse. In those years I studied a tremendous amount about space and color, and learned to express them in both two and three dimensions.

Although I wanted to continue painting, I decided to apply for a job at a housing company, and thanks to some personal connections, I was able to do so. Of course, I was unprepared to work in construction or any other aspect of housing, but I was assigned to the design section, where I worked for the next twenty years. I set out to study and learned all that I could about the fundamentals of house construction, how the plans are drawn up, the legal aspects of construction and so on. I studied customer responses and developed presentation skills and learned about teamwork. I met numerous people during my years there and got to know the society we all live in.

The company decided that I should specialize in large-sized residences, and I was given a lot of freedom for my designs. After ten years of this work, I felt stuck and unsure of how to develop myself and my designs. It was at this time that I was requested by my superior to spend some time helping the architect Yamamoto Ryosuke at his atelier.

At the time, I had no idea how such architects work, and was a little anxious as to whether I could be of any help to such a famous architect. The experience was eye-opening, and exposed me to fresh ideas and inspiration. The job of designing housing was the same, but every time I went there, I felt as if I was learning all over again in new ways. The most surprising thing about it was the way that the architect designed the buildings. Without compromise, he drew and redrew over and over until he was sure that he had the design he wanted. It contrasted so sharply with my work, which was performed to constraints of time, and which I always felt pressure to rush and finish. I felt that what Yamamoto-sensei was doing was truly craftsmanship.

The way that Yamamoto-sensei drew and erased, thought, redrew, discussed and decided until he was satisfied was familiar to me. I realized that that was the way I had painted at Art University.

It was quite a revelation, and was the one that would teach me a new and better way to think about buildings and design them. I realized that I could get out of my stalemate and move onward and upward.

It is not too much to say that from the day of that realization, I became a new person. The style of my designs changed utterly and every day was such fun. I felt like a fish out of water that had flipped back into the river. I danced along to the songs on the radio and enjoyed the summer days.

Initially, Yamamoto-sensei told me that he would ‘borrow’ me for about three weeks, but in fact, I continued at his atelier for half a year. I had gone initially to lend my help, but in fact he taught me so much about how to look at building design and how to set about it that it ended up changing my whole life.

That was the best summer of my life.

For the next ten years, I continued in my job as an employee of a housing company, and every Wednesday on my day off, I spent at Yamamoto-sensei’s atelier, working and learning like an intern.

When I was forty-five years old, Yamamoto-sensei asked me ‘Are you ready to go out on your own?’ and I made the decision to set up my own atelier and work as an independent architect.

My identity began in Kochi Prefecture with my love for my mother’s family home, a traditional house in a rich natural environment, developed through my studies of colors and space at Art University, and was developed after years working with people of all walks of life at the housing company. At Yamamoto-sensei’s atelier, my mind was opened up to possibilities of present and future houses and I learned the deep emotion which comes from creating constructions with a spirit of discovery. These are the factors which have shaped the way I approach my residential designs.

For the sake of those who have a desire to deepen and heighten their lifestyle through creating a building, I hope that my architecture will resonate with that person and their place in space, and create a place of comfort and enjoyment.

As explained in the answer to the first question, I studied at an art university, hoping to become a painter. I began working at a housing design and construction company, and unwilling to lose the chance to create individual and original designs, I began my own architecture design atelier.

I wanted to work in some field of design, and a confluence of circumstances led me in the direction of becoming an architect.

To date, my designs have been of residences and smaller office buildings, and I would like to design some larger architecture such as hotels and restaurants.

Never imitate other designers. Be strong-willed and strive towards your objectives, but at the same time be flexible. It is important to never lose your sense of what society is doing, what it wants and needs.

A great designer contributes to society through his or her designs, and is a designer that remains relevant through generations. I think a good designer satisfies his or her clients and makes them happy. It is hard to achieve both good and great designs.

In my opinion, a good design is a prototype that creates a design concept and system that contributes to society and spreads throughout that society. That design should not be just a form, but also should express a philosophy and a way of thinking. I believe that a design is praiseworthy if there is a philosophy behind it.

Good design has the power to move people and society. People will invest in the possibilities presented by such prototypes.

I would very much like to design hotels. I would like to further the prototype system I used in Cliff House, the work for which I have been given this award, not just in Japan, but in other countries, too.

I would like to try my hand at designing a facility for the 2020 Tokyo Olympics, even if it is only a small one, and/or a pavilion for the 2025 Osaka Expo.

I have my own personal and original answer to the question of how to define ‘beauty’. All I will say is that there is a definitive relationship to the structure of the human brain, but to go into it precisely would take too long, so it would be difficult to go into it here.

There are so many, such as the artists Gustav Klimt, Edvard Munch, Rene Magritte, Salvador Dali, Edouard Vuillard, and more. Among architects, I would name Louis Kahn, Tange Kenzo and Glenn Murcutt.

Glenn Murcutt’s ‘Magney House’ and Louis Kahn’s ‘Norman Fisher House’. These works have a definite and individual way of thinking and philosophy, and are magnificently harmonious with their environments.

In my opinion, the first work produced by my atelier, ‘Yuzaki House’ is my most important work. It is the house that has been most taken up by the media and the success of this work has contributed greatly to the subsequent success of my atelier. Additionally, 15 years later, the same client engaged me to design their vacation home, Cliff House, the work for which I have been given this award.

Never imitate other designers. Be strong-willed and strive towards your objectives, but at the same time be flexible. It is important to never lose your sense of what society is doing, what it wants and needs. That is the way I have always felt about my own work. Regarding architecture, it is important to see the structure of things. It is important to always ask yourself and look for answers to the question of what construction is.

I would have become a singer!

The form of a system itself is design. That is my philosophy.

The staff who work for me in my atelier. They are much younger than me, so they serve as stimulation and contribute to various new ideas, approaches and ways of thinking.

The fact that I encountered good clients. They gave me the opportunities.

Soon after graduating from art university, circumstances aligned to lead me to begin work for a housing company. The people in the organization found my patterns of behavior difficult to understand. The work of construction cannot be completed by one person. Cooperation from the people around the designer is vital, but in my case, there were very few people who could understand what I was trying to do, and that was an obstacle to me.

When I do a presentation to a client, I do not begin with CG and finely tuned intricate details. When the final stage of the design firms up, I will render it in CG, but I feel that to do it prematurely robs the client of the freedom to imagine and dream. I begin with sketches and simple plans.

I have several projects on the go at the moment, and one of these is a small, three-story, steel-framed house for a family of three (parents and one daughter). On an extremely small piece of land, I have designed a curved exterior that rather than feeling cramped, gives an impression of width and openness.

So long as I have requests, I plan to continue to design for clients.

They expect me to design systems that have never been seen before.

The created design becomes a prototype that can be used by more of society. For that to be accomplished, the structure of the design needs constantly to be flexible to follow the changes in society.

Cliff House was the most exciting project.

Recently, it has been Cliff House. That is because I feel that I have been able to effectively control gravity.

I feel that with the appearance of AI, the design process itself will change. Designers can improve their ability to communicate with AI, and serve as a portal between AI and the clients. We will be required to assess how we can coexist with AI.

In a variety of fields, due to AI, the base will be the optimization of multiple elements. The issue will be whether we are in rivalry with or coexisting with AI.

Depending on the project, it can take anywhere between 6 months to several years.

I begin with a deliberate and careful investigation of the site. I look into the legal situation, restrictions and regulations, I look at the topography, shape and size of the piece of land, and I am especially careful to observe the surrounding environment.

Never imitate another person’s design.

I feel that designs set trends. However, one more way to see it is that trends create an environment for designs to emerge into.

In the case of architecture, technology is directly linked to performance, so I believe it bolsters the function of design.

I draw sketches and perspective drawings using an iPad and software called Procreate.

The most important aspect of architecture is the space created, and I try to use materials in their most natural state. However, at times, by using color, I can achieve an overall sense of unity or an accent within the space.

“Will it really be like this when completed?”

I think about what the background of this design or product is.

For me, it is the young staff members at my atelier. When I am discussing things with them, we can come up with unexpected ideas. The support of young people is vital.

The photographer, Kita Akira, who always takes the photographs of my completed works. His advice is always accurate.

The writer Wassily Kandinsky’s work “Point and Line to Plane”.

I improve my skills through every project, so long as I do not cease to make effort.

I would like to meet Glenn Murcutt, from Australia. His works are truly amazing. I would like to ask him face-to-face about his methods for designing architecture.

You are asking me how is feels to be famous? I am not famous, so I have to answer to this.

My favorite color is blue.

My favorite place is the ocean and rivers.

My favorite food is sushi.

My favorite season is spring.

My favorite thing is eyeglasses.

My favorite brands of eyeglasses is LA Eyeworks and THEO.

A long time ago, when I was much younger, I was working as a designer for a housing company. This was before I went independent and opened my atelier. I became very ill and was hospitalized. I was instructed by the doctor to remain calm and stay in bed, but the staff of the company, and my younger colleagues, perhaps fearing that I was about to die and leave the work undone, came to my hospital room with plans, blueprints and material samples, asking me to make choices and decisions. One of these decisions was the shape of a handrail for a second-floor indoor balcony. The construction foreman brought a sketchbook, laid it on my bedcover and asked me to design the handrail. I was frustrated and unhappy at his intrusion and insistence, so with my pencil I angrily scrawled a curve on the plan. It was a perfect angry slashing shape. The construction foreman was delighted with the design and took it away. After I was released from the hospital, I visited the construction site and the handrail had been made exactly as I had drawn – three strong, curving lines. Such an original handrail made the clients very happy. They asked me how I could have thought up such an interesting idea, and I had trouble formulating a reply.

What motivates me to continue as a designer is to make efforts to gain greater recognition and achieve awards. I believe that this will also benefit my clients.

When I was a child, no one had the least idea that I would one day be a designer. I was not particularly skilled at drawing, and my parents were even worried about my lack of ability. When I was only about ten years old, I suddenly became much better at art and I went on to study oil painting at art university.

I cannot imagine what the world will be like in a thousand years’ time, but perhaps the earth will be under the control of machines.

Under no circumstances do I push my designs on my clients. I make it a rule to carry out a project after thoroughly discussing the design and making sure that the clients understand every aspect of it. I will continue to see things from unique viewpoints and create original forms for systems, building new and interesting architectural designs.

I originally intended to become a painter and studied oil painting at an art university in Tokyo. However, I began my professional career at a construction company. Around my tenth year there, I met an architect in Kyoto, from whom I learned the fundamental logic and principles of architectural design. That encounter became an important turning point in my career.

My studios are located in Nara, Kyoto, and Tokyo. The Nara studio is close to Nara City, home to World Heritage sites such as Todai-ji Temple, Kofuku-ji Temple, and Kasuga Taisha Shrine. The Kyoto studio is located near Ginkaku-ji, one of Kyoto's World Heritage sites. From these culturally rich environments, we develop and communicate our architectural ideas and designs.

For me, design is the form taken by a “system” created to realize a particular purpose or objective.

Cliff House, which received the Platinum A' Design Award, is one of my representative works. The original request was for a small fishing cabin facing a beautiful stream. I am particularly fond of the project because the architecture responds naturally to the steep terrain and blends harmoniously with its surrounding environment.

The headquarters building of a printing company in Nara City.

I feel most creative when I am struggling with how to translate a client's requirements into an appropriate form or system, and then, suddenly, the solution appears in my mind like a flash of light.

I try to eliminate as much as possible anything that is unrelated to the essential system of the design.

A successful design comes from removing preconceived ideas as much as possible and approaching the project with a clear and open mind.

Architecture has a particular responsibility toward the streetscape and the broader landscape. At the same time, especially in buildings other than private residences, I believe architecture should freely and rationally reconcile its functional requirements with its relationship to society.

My sources of inspiration are not limited to any one thing. I may find clues in the mechanisms of products from completely different fields, in forms and behaviors found in nature, or even in casual remarks made during an ordinary conversation. Fundamentally, our work is about optimizing many different requirements, and for that reason, experience plays an extremely important role.

In architecture, no two projects are ever the same. The site, its environment, the client and their personality, the budget, the time in which the project is created, and even who I am at that particular moment are all different. In every project, I try to discover a unique system specific to that project, and the design emerges from that system. If I had to define my style, I would say that this process itself is my style.

I begin by talking extensively with the client. Rather than simply listing their requests and proceeding from there, I look for words or remarks that may contain an important clue. Then I begin drawing with a pencil on a blank sheet of paper, often almost like scribbling. Once a direction begins to emerge, we start developing the project in earnest. Together with my staff, we work through plans, computer-generated images, physical models, and other tools. But these are not the final destination; they are only the beginning.

If possible, do not imitate others. Think for yourself and develop your own system for solving each project. Do not allow conventional assumptions to limit your thinking.

Do not imitate others.

Creativity—the ability to create objects and ideas; imagination—the ability to envision phenomena and experiences; and communication skills.

If I had to name one important lesson from my career, it would be that it is essential to be surrounded not only by good staff, but also by good collaborators in all the fields that come before and after the design process. Architecture cannot be realized by the architect alone. It is dangerous to rely only on costs, specifications, or what people say at face value; the quality of the people involved and the relationships of trust between them are extremely important.

I particularly enjoy designing architecture for extremely constrained urban sites, as well as architecture located in rich natural environments. Although these situations may appear to be complete opposites, they share one essential challenge: in both cases, harmony with the surroundings is one of the most important aspects of the design.

I have always wanted to test whether my architecture can communicate and succeed internationally. One day, even on a small scale, I would like to design a hotel in a beautiful natural setting somewhere outside Japan.