The Japanese art of models
AIT architecture department
Tobu World
models at the Ashikaga museum, Gakkou, Matsumura house, etc.
makes me think of Calvino's Invisible Cities, building tony models of many cities not seen
"This model pleased me. It was closer to the Golden Temple of my dreams. Observing this perfect little image of the Golden Temple within the great temple itself, I was reminded of the endless series of correspondences that arise when a small universe is placed in a large universe and a smaller one is in turn placed inside the small universe. For the first time I could dream: of the small, but perfect Golden Temple which was even smaller than this model; and of the Golden Temple which was infinitely greater than the real building-so great, indeed, that it almost enveloped the world."
The Temple of the Golden Pavilion, Yukio Mishima
Many of the places we visited had small architectural models in glass cases located inside them. To be fair, many of the places we visited were historic buildings of architectural interest, so this was not unexpected. Yet, it was such a repeated observation that I began to think about what purpose these models served.
The Japanese are known for many things, but not least among them is a skill at miniaturization. This coupled with an exacting precision with tools and parts yields some beautiful architectural models. An early high point of the trip was a visit to an Architecture workshop at A.I.T. There we saw hundreds of models built by students using their own designs for towns, villages, malls, shopping centers, ski resorts. Most of these models displayed not only an almost inhuman level of detail and precision, but also spectacularly innovative and interesting designs. (I have worked in capital finance alongside construction for more than 15 years and I can tell a good design from a mediocre one.) The plans, all hand drawn, were so perfect that they looked as if they had been done on a computer.
At other venues we saw models of the Ashikaga Gakkou and recreations of the original Ashikaga estate. There was a model of the Matsumura House in a glass case inside the Matsumura House. In Tokyo, the giftshop at the Imperial Palace Gardens sported a miniature model of the Imperial Palace Gardens. But all this was only a prelude to the main feast -- Tobu World Square.
Tobu World Square is a theme park that we visited on our way back from Nikko. It consists of several acres housing more than 100 1:25 scale models of the world's architectural wonders. It has zones for modern Japan, ancient Japan, Asia, Europe, America and Egypt. Each structure is set in its own diorama including landscaping, roads, model automobiles, boats or planes, and hundreds of figures. (The website says there are 140,000 miniature people.) This attraction is so expansive in space and simultaneously so compacted and detailed that it almost defies you to complete it. It is difficult to find focus. Wherever your eye rests, the world's familiar skyline beckons from the near distance while the detail of the immediate setting fights for your attention. Initial delight and enthusiasm eventually gave way to fatigue and then exhaustion.
In America we have land to such an abundance that we have sprawled development to the horizon around every major city. However, land is an incredibly scarce resource in Japan. Most of the terrain is mountainous and prevents easy development, so the entire population is restricted to the coastal plains and competes with agriculture for the available land. Consequently, urban development is almost continuous from the shore to the mountains, with agriculture bracketing all of the major rivers. This was easily apparent from the plane on the way in. I noticed immediately the proximity of rice paddies and farms to the winding rivers. This is very different from the circular irrigation patterns observed across all of the Midwest. Buildings and roads are very compact, even down to the size of living spaces (and hotel rooms!).
The Japanese are used to making use of every available inch of space. Perhaps this attention to space, size and scale lends itself to the making of beautiful models. Perhaps the models represent a realm in which space is simultaneously limited and yet abundant. At Tobu, a massive architectural wonder, like the Great Pyramids of Egypt, fits in an area the size of a backyard patio in America. Notre Dame cathedral fits neatly in an average U.S. parking space. For a people used to living in incredibly compressed environs, these models might represent a microcosm toward which they are striving. Perhaps, they are an attempt, as in Blake's words, "to see a world in a grain of sand...and hold infinity in the palm of your hand."
No comments:
Post a Comment