A Space that Transcends Time
What kinds of large-scale spaces have endured across time? If we look at examples of monumental architecture widely recognized today—those that exist as a shared global reference—we find, in antiquity, the Parthenon; in the medieval period, the Hagia Sophia; in the Renaissance, St. Peter’s Basilica; in the Baroque period, the Palace of Versailles; and in the modern era, the Crystal Palace.
In Japan as well, examples such as Todai-ji Daibutsuden, Byodo-in Phoenix Hall, and Nijo Castle can easily be listed. The number is endless.
All of these spaces carry profound meaning within their respective times and regions. They are the crystallization of the technologies and aesthetic sensibilities of their age, embodied in architecture.
Humanity on Earth
It is well known that the development of science and technology accelerated through the Industrial Revolution, and further through industrialization and capitalism. In this process, humanity has come to perceive nature more objectively, behaving as if we were independent from it.
Technology, once local in nature, is now shared globally through the forces of globalization. It has become a universal language. As a result, cities and lifestyles across the world have grown increasingly uniform.
At the same time, it is becoming a shared awareness that the depletion of resources caused by mass consumption, along with climate change, reveals the finiteness of the earth. Humanity is no longer a negligible presence within this system.
In such an age, what kind of large-scale space might come to symbolize our time? What kind of place should be shared among many on this finite planet?
Perhaps it is a space that reminds us of the smallness of humanity—yet allows us to share, together, the richness of being small within a greater whole.
Interdependence
In Buddhism, there is a concept known as engi—interdependent origination. It suggests that all phenomena arise through causes and conditions, that everything exists in mutual dependence, and nothing exists independently.
One well-known example of this worldview is the Shigisan Engi Emaki, a narrative picture scroll from the Heian period, and among the oldest of its kind in Japan. Stretching over 35 meters, it depicts scenes of everyday life, religious belief, and the unfolding of events through interconnected causes.
Each individual scene is vividly rendered. Yet what emerges when viewed as a whole is a deeply beautiful understanding of the world—that everything is connected, across both time and space.
Technology and Architecture
If something from our time is to endure as a large-scale space for future generations, perhaps it will not be architecture that isolates and controls fragments of nature, but rather architecture shaped by a worldview akin to that of such narrative scrolls.
In that case, the role of technology would fundamentally change. Instead of asserting control, technology might dissolve into the environment, becoming integrated with the world itself. We may begin to find value in such a condition.
At that point, the concept of architecture would expand beyond the boundaries of individual buildings. Architecture would come to be understood as a system—a field with a certain extent—through which a place is formed.
While reflecting on this, I had the opportunity to visit Ise Grand Shrine. The vast spatial experience created by the towering sacred forest and the Isuzu River that embraces it is always overwhelming. Yet what struck me most on this visit was the relationship between the main sanctuary of the Outer Shrine and its adjacent kodenchi, the empty site prepared for the next reconstruction as part of the Shikinen Sengu ritual.
These two were not simply a pair of “old” and “new.” Rather, they appeared as a place in which a continuous span of 1,300 years of time had become visible. Together, they seemed to form a single architecture.
It was a place where the techniques of ancient people—developed in close relationship with the natural world—had been brought to fruition. Standing there, I felt both astonishment and joy at encountering a space that transcends the scale of an individual human life.
At the same time, I felt a quiet sense of kinship with the many others present there—as if we were participants within a contemporary scroll, unfolding in time.
(Published in Journal of Architecture and Building Science, Architectural Institute of Japan, October 2024)