Traditional Japanese Residential Architecture

In residential dwellings the world over, interior and exterior design and the techniques to fulfill those designs are combined to answer residents’ needs in comfort, hygiene, religious beliefs, access to food, and protection from the elements, not necessarily in that order. The residential lifestyles of the Japanese have likewise evolved with their architecture over the centuries within a unique set of environmental conditions including climate, topography and geological features as architects work to integrate the physical structure of the residence and its natural surroundings into an organic whole.

The environmental features most influential in shaping traditional Japanese architecture were its monsoon climate, unstable geological position, and mountainous topography.

• Due to Japan’s location in important climate transition zones, climatic conditions vary on the four main islands of Hokkaido, Honshu, Shikoku and Kyushu, but all feature high humidity year-round. Japan’s rainy season marks the beginning of summer, with temperatures over 30°C and nearly one hundred percent humidity from early June through mid-July.

• Japan’s coordinates position it atop multiple intersecting fault lines, which accounts for the country’s frequent earthquakes and volcanic activity. (Sixty volcanoes around the country are still active today.) Earthquakes, in particular, have been the focus of architects in developing countermeasures over the centuries.

• Almost seventy percent of Japan’s 378,000 square kilometers is located on slopes of more than fifteen degrees.

In terms of natural disasters, the main categories were mold, typhoons, and earthquakes, this time, in that order. Fire was unquestionably a clear and present danger in pre-modern Japan, but the trifecta of threats above posed substantially greater risks to loss of life and the structural integrity of the buildings themselves. Before going into more background, I’d like to start with the features of traditional Japanese architecture:  

Wood: Part 1​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

The most prominent feature of traditional Japanese residential housing was the use of wood. (“Traditional” here refers to architecture from the Edo period [1603-1868]). While architects and carpenters valued wood for its many advantages in helping prevent damage from mold and earthquakes, they revered the trees it came from as sacred. Rites to Kukunochi no Kami, the god of trees, were mandatory before trees were felled, as well as at every major stage of any ensuing construction. Not only were metal nails and fasteners eschewed in most traditional buildings in favor of natural joinery techniques developed by Japanese craftsmen, but until the adoption of Western construction methods in the nineteenth century, not a single building on the Japanese archipelago was made of stone.

With forests covering almost seventy percent of Japan’s aggregate land mass, there was not only a plentiful supply of high-quality wood, but a rich diversity of timbers for the various applications involved in residential housing. (Silviculture is practiced today in forty-three percent of Japan’s forests, known as “plantation forests,” while the remaining fifty-seven percent are natural forests.) There are over a thousand native species of trees in Japan, the most abundant being sugi (“Japanese cedar”) (Fig. 59), hinoki (“Japanese cypress”) (Fig. 60), and akamatsu (“Japanese red pine”) (Fig. 61), but any tree harvesting for construction purposes must adhere to a strict ritual protocol officiated by Shinto priests. Moreover, each part of every tree is evaluated for its use in the proposed structure, from doors and windows to coating materials and decorative items. This wood was left in its unfinished state in deference to the natural grain, based on Japan’s long-standing tradition of showcasing the unique textures of different timbers to enhance the aesthetics of interior spaces.

Sacred Trees and Their Functions

Long before the early Japanese developed tools to fell trees, cut timber and construct dwellings of wood, trees were an integral part of Shinto’s spiritual dimension of connecting the kami and the earth.

“The Kojiki (‘Record of Ancient Matters’) records the legend of the founding sibling gods of Japan, Izanagi and Izanami. They gave birth to hundreds of thousands of godling children, but their second-born was (Kukunochi) the kami of the trees.”

In ancient Japan, there were two types of forests: satoyama, forests near villages where people would go to gather basic needs to make a living, and okuyama, forests deep in the mountains where people were not allowed. Okuyama forests were sacred forests where ancestors’ spirits and deities resided. Small shrines built at the edges of these forests went on to become the larger shrines and shrine complexes that have survived and dominate Shinto today. As shrines founded to enshrine the kami of the forests, many took proprietorship of large, sacred tracts known as kannabi or chinju no mori.

Some forests, such as the Akasawa National Recreation Forest in Nagano Prefecture, are designated for the growing and ritual cutting of native hinoki (“Japanese cypress”) and kansugi (“sacred cryptomeria”) trees for shrine buildings. Other sacred trees, including oak (kashi), Japanese cedar (sugi), boxwood (tsuge), and fir (momi) can be substituted in ritual use.

Sacred trees fulfill a wide range of functions in Shinto spiritualism.

Sacred Trees in Japanese Myth

Sakaki (“Japanese cleyera”) (Fig. 64) is one of Shinto’s oldest and most sacred trees, having seen use as offerings to the gods in rites since ancient times. When presented on these occasions, sakaki branches are decorated with sacred paper streamers (shide) to make tamagushi (“sacred offering”). (Fig. 65) They are also used in purification rites and ritual dance, and may be affixed to shrine buildings or fences to designate sacred space. Sakaki trees are commonly planted in gardens, parks, and shrines, while the wood is used to make “lucky” combs, utensils, and building materials.

Sakaki plays a central role in Shinto’s most famous myth, that portrays the efforts of lesser gods in luring the Sun Goddess Amaterasu out of a cave she had taken refuge in, thus depriving the world of light and warmth, after her brother Susanoo had ravaged her sacred fields in a fit of rage. The text states, "(the gods) tore out the flourishing sakaki of the mountain Ame no Kaguyama by its very roots " and festooned the branches with jewels, sacred cloth, and swords. The key to the ruse, the sacred mirror Yata no Kagami, one of three sacred treasures that would come to be known as the Imperial Regalia, was forged for the occasion by the deity of mirrors and hung in the branches of the sacred, five-hundred-branch sakaki tree, that had been strategically positioned to face the cave.

Spirits in the Trees

In Japanese folklore, kodama are mountain spirits that reside in certain trees, although the term can also refer to the trees they reside in. Kodama trees look like other, ordinary trees, but any attempt to cut one down will bring a curse on the individual in question. The knowledge of which trees are kodama is in the hands of local village elders and passed down over successive generations to ensure the protected status of these trees.

In many rural areas, and particularly on outlying islands, vestiges of the belief in tree spirits remain in the form of various rites and customs. Below is a small sampling of this soon-to-be-lost heritage:

• On the island of Aogashima in the Izu Archipelago, shrines were built in the mountains at the base of Japanese cedar trees (sugi), whose spirits are worshipped under the name kodama-sama.  

• In the village of Mitsune on the island of Hachijojima, when a tree is scheduled for harvesting, tradition requires a festival be held by the harvester in honor of the tree's kodama.

• On the island of Okinawa, tree spirits are called kiinushii. Here, too, when a tree is to be felled, the men who will wield the saw or axes are obliged to pray to the kiinushii for permission prior to the first cut.

Even today, there are kodama trees marked with sacred shimenawa rope and shide paper streamers, and surrounded by legends of grave misfortune befalling those foolish enough, even inadvertently, to cut them down. Much of this lore is dismissed by urban Japanese as superstition, but there are, nonetheless, few, if any, indications, that the average Japanese of the twenty-first century would risk cutting down a tree designated in this manner.

Trees and Timber Use in Satsuma

Below are examples of sugi, hinoki and akamatsu trees, as well as their use in different features in Satsuma residences.

Week 3: Exploring Satsuma

By this time in my apprenticeship, I had envisioned myself hard at work renovating my great-uncle’s house (Fig. 73) in preparation for the new residents’ arrival. Instead, today I find myself discovering the frustrating truth that red tape apparently knows or respects no national boundaries. (The paperwork for the renovation—permits, etc.—is still pending.) Next, I asked the carpenter if I could visit his workshop to photograph his tools, but that, too, was politely declined. It was only then I discovered, to my great relief, my predicament’s “silver lining.” The delay had released me from the extremely unpleasant prospect of staying up every night until 3:00 a.m. for my App State class, then heading off to “work” four hours later. I’m praying for a start date of July 1st.

My uncle Koji allowed me to photograph the house interior as the “before” shot of the “before-after” set. I hadn’t been inside the cottage since my great-uncle was still alive, which was more than ten years ago. Having been cleared out after he died and vacant since, there was little clutter, which offered a better view of some of the traditional features discussed in Part 1 than my grandmother’s house could offer. The first feature I noticed was the open design (Fig. 74). The tokonoma (alcove) (Fig. 75) in the innermost room is adjacent to the chanoma (tea room), but it can be partitioned off by closing the opaque fusuma sliding doors to offer full privacy when necessary. There are many attractive unfinished wood surfaces throughout the house, with huge timbers supporting the back wall and many intricate wooden joints fulfilling both decorative and structural functions.

Back at my grandmother’s house, the engawa is piled high with storage items, one of this feature’s multiple uses. Here, in my great-uncle’s cottage, the wooden walkway (Fig. 76) is unobstructed, making it easier to visualize other potential applications. With a couple in residence—and possibly little ones before long—I could visualize those walkways as impromptu picnic spots to invite friends and relatives for snacks and tea, let the newborns crawl around, etc., while enjoying the view. The engawa can be closed off from the house interior side with translucent, paper-covered shōji (Fig. 77), latticed sliding doors that help keep out bugs while diffusing direct sunlight for a refined interior ambience. I will discuss engawa and shōji in greater detail in the coming weeks.

We had a few days of good weather last week, so I headed out with my phone to explore and shoot the village. (With a population of just over 20,000, Satsuma is barely a “town.”) This is a very rural, but equally charming area. Most residents earn their livings from farming, with rice the main cash crop, as is evident from the wet rice paddies carpeting the landscape (Figs. 78-80).

Like rural America, cars are a necessity, not an option, but Satsuma residents still rely on their legs for transportation much more than American country folk. Walking remains the preferred mode of travel by those whose legs still give them that option, despite taking time to get where they’re going. In Satsuma, as in so many other Japanese rural communities, the unfortunate reality is that most of the young born and raised here migrate to the cities, leaving many seniors alone and often, stranded. With the average age steadily rising in this graying society, many unsteady elderly pedestrians risk injury from falls should they choose to walk. There are food delivery services and a local community center, but many elderly citizens without a family member caretaker are forced to depend on the goodwill of neighbors or local social security programs.

The good news is, what would be full-time grocery stores in America are closer to one-stop shopping centers in Satsuma and other parts of rural Japan. Many stores have sections or departments dedicated to groceries, clothing, cooking items, “hundred yen products” (much like our dollar stores), even arcade games. Many such commercial centers are multi-level structures, with groceries on the first floor and other goods on the second and, sometimes, third.

I love the variety of the traditional Japanese homes and architecture on these excursions. It’s almost like a museum. There are newer residences either renovated or built from the ground up, but the majority of the houses in the area have clearly stood for half a century or longer. One of my main architectural goals is to integrate Japanese and western practices and styles, taking the best of both, and having Satsuma as my own person “reference gallery” has definitely helped clarify that vision. (Figs. 81-83).

Satsuma is located about an hour’s drive north from the city of Kagoshima, the capital of Kagoshima Prefecture, the southernmost prefecture on Kyushu. The entire prefecture was originally named Satsuma, after the samurai clan that ruled the region.This clan soon established a strong military presence during the Meiji Restoration (1868-1889), based on their opposition to the prefectural shogun’s isolationist rule. With the help of clan leaders, this shogunate was eventually overthrown, enabling Emperor Meiji to unify the Japanese archipelago under his leadership.

That wraps things up for week 3. I will be heading to Kirishima—one of my three road trips—on July 13th to visit Kareigawa Station, but the dates for the Izumi Fumoto and Iriki Fumoto samurai villages are still not set. Thanks for your continued interest, and I look forward to seeing you next week!