Hyogo Prefectural Musuem & The Church of Light

On a study tour to Kobe and Osaka, our class visited two prominent works by Tadao Ando. The first of these was the Hyogo Prefectural Museum, a large-scale complex that sits at the edge of an open waterfront. Though somewhat unconventional in terms of style, it is successful in capturing the timeless essence associated with so many of his projects. This is a product of Ando's careful usage of space, materials, and light.

The museum is composed of three massive rectangular volumes, together exuding a very monumental air. As one walks around these structures, they are able to feel the stillness of space surrounding them. Though they are already quite large, the emphasis placed on the verticality of these elements, as well as their distinct directional qualities, makes them seem a great deal larger.

There are a number of moments in the museum in which one truly experiences a depth of space. The first of these is the elaborate spiraling staircase in main plaza, a powerful concrete gesture that cuts through the ground plane.

Second, the transparent corridors that define each mass present tall, uninterrupted volumes, impressive for their expansive nature.

The space that impresses me the most, however, is the vaulted square that services each floor of the museum. Here, the stairs emerge out of the thick perimeter walls of concrete. The effect is as if the walls have been sliced, and solid pieces removed, creating a voided circulatory volume. The glass railway that emerges from this condition is both elegant and beautiful.

Directly adjacent to the museum sits Nagisa Park, an extension that was meant to serve pedestrians of the waterfront. The elements that comprise the park are nice, yet they stand lifeless from a lack of public interaction. Because the development is so expansive, it feels in large very empty. The only people inhabiting the space are bums that have settled under the shelter of the horizontal planes.

The final stop of the day was Ibaraki, a small city in Osaka, where we viewed one of the most important examples of contemporary architecture, Tadao Ando’s Church of Light. Seeing this project firsthand proved to be the most valuable experience I have had since being in Japan. Though one can analyze the church through drawings and photographs, these depictions pale in comparison to the feeling one gets when inside the space.

The church is comprised of two concrete rectangles that are cut at fifteen-degree angles by freestanding walls, halfway along their outer edge. This arrangement is effective in interrupting the solidity of the walls, bringing light into the interior space. The full height glass that emerges from the split is an element that further impacts this reading. While the nature of the concrete is very heavy, details such as these are effective in giving it an entirely new understanding, one that is associated with lightness and grace.

Although there are two volumes, the main chapel is the heart of the building. In order to enter, one must pull back a large glass sliding door, the height of which travels all the way to the roof. Once the door is closed, you become completely enveloped by the silence of the interior space. The only interruptions to this silence are the sounds made by visitors. Every step is echoed through the space, amplified by the surrounding walls.

The composition of the chapel is beautiful. The near black finish on the wood of the floor and pews is a perfect complement to the polished concrete of the walls and ceiling. In addition, the steel and glass elements flow elegantly with the moves of the structure. Not a single element stands in opposition to the whole. It is, in a sense, flawless.

Though the material qualities are nice, this space owes its power to the bleed of natural daylight that occurs in specific moments of the building. The most powerful of these is the voided cross that cuts through the back wall. Though the nature of the wall is very heavy, the cross splits the entirety of this piece along the vertical and horizontal axes, thereby suggesting the dominance of the illuminated void. The suggested parallel between this gorgeous detail and the Christian faith adds an entirely new layer to the beauty of the project.