The life cycle in which architecture undergoes, is parallel to the one in which humans have seen for centuries. Life begins at birth for humans, and ends in death. When examining architecture, this cycle is no different. A proposal is made, creating “life”, and when destruction occurs, death triumphs. Metabolism, a type of architectural movement, has roots in the phenomena that architecture can equate to life. Not in the sense that architecture is metaphorically life, but rather, architecture holds the power to revive and bring life into something as large as a city, and down to something small like a person’s life. When life is given in the form of architecture, it changes and adapts to thrive, but can sometimes fail and become destroyed when its structure can no longer sustain itself.
The Nakagin Capsule Tower by Kisho Kurokawa, for example, resonates heavily with the idea of life, death, and rebirth within architecture. For Kurokawa, the building of the capsules had innuendos to life. Through clever design choices, he regards the lifespan of a capsule as, “not a mechanical one, but rather a social one, implying that changing human needs and social relationships would necessitate such periodic replacement.”1 As how a human body changes and evolves as it ages, Kurokawa anticipated that the Nakagin Capsule Tower would do the same. This phenomenology between the human experience and architecture deepens the meaning of what it means to bring life into architecture. By regarding the Nakagin Capsule Tower as a system that has a life and body, rather than a machine, it allows for a more personal connection between the space in which people inhabit.
Japanese architect Fumihiko Maki, also recognized for his metabolism approaches to architecture, had opposing views to Kurokawa. In his book, Investigations In Collective Form, he argues that modern cities are chaotic and visually unappealing, leaning too much into the concept of being flexible and temporary when they should become organized and permanent.2 Maki created his own design form in retaliation entitled “Collective Form” which consists of three sub categories for designing future urban spaces: compositional form, megaform, and group form (Figure 2). Through this collective form of design, he theorized that future building practices in urban settings would begin to grow as time went on, culminating into something larger and more impactful than the simple top-down approach. One of Maki’s most successful projects, the Hillside Terrace (Figure 3), utilizes group form in order to accommodate a mixed space used for living, socializing, and commercializing. Though Maki’s practice is distinct to those of Kurokawa, there is an underlying similarity between both projects—the notion of rebirth. In the case of the Nakagin Capsule Tower, the building was destroyed in 2022, but rebirthed through saving twenty three capsules and repurposing them for further residential use. The Hillside Terrace continues to thrive and continue its cycle of life through newer additions, never remaining static but always in continuous motion and growth. As humans have to adapt to the challenges life brings, buildings and cities also need to adapt to destruction, chaos, and change. The design impacts of Kurokawa and Maki have continued to influence the way in which architects build for the needs of urban spaces, allowing for more future forward designs and emphasis on the building being an organism—not just a solid volume.
