This is the Capsule Tower in Tokyo:
Here are my fav passages from an NYT about the Capsule Tower, a building that is fast running out of time:
Inside, each apartment is as compact as a space capsule. A wall of appliances and cabinets is built into one side, including a kitchen stove, a refrigerator, a television and a tape deck. A bathroom unit, about the size of an airplane lavatory, is set into an opposite corner. A big porthole window dominates the far end of the room, with a bed tucked underneath.
Part of the design’s appeal is voyeuristic. The portholes evoke gigantic peepholes. Their enormous size, coupled with the small scale of the rooms, exposes the entire apartment to the city outside. Many of the midlevel units look directly onto an elevated freeway, so you are almost face to face with people in passing cars. (On my first visit there, a tenant told me that during rush hour, drivers stuck in traffic often point or wave at residents.)
But the project’s lasting importance has more to do with its structural innovations, and how they reflect the Metabolists’ views on the evolution of cities. Each of the concrete capsules was assembled in a factory, including details like carpeting and bathroom fixtures. They were then shipped to the site and bolted, one by one, onto the concrete and steel cores that housed the building’s elevators, stairs and mechanical systems.
In theory, more capsules could be plugged in or removed whenever needed. The idea was to create a completely flexible system, one that could be adapted to the needs of a fast-paced, constantly changing society. The building became a symbol of Japan’s technological ambitions, as well as of the increasingly nomadic existence of the white-collar worker.
The current residents of this building want it to be no more. They want something new. They want a building that has a future and not one that had a future. But how is it possible that a building with the most perfect idea of the future (“the idea was to create a completely flexible system, one that could be adapted to the needs of a fast-paced, constantly changing society”) could become outdated and hated? Our current thinking about architecture does not surpass the thinking that went into the Capsule Tower. And yet it’s a building that’s rejected by the very people it was designed to accommodate. The people of a tomorrow that is now.
The pics are by pict_u_re.
Perhaps if it didn’t appear that these people were living in front-loading washing machines? Modular is the future, but the style is dated.
This building illustrates the difference between making a plan and following through with the plan. It was designed to adapt, but nobody bothered to adapt as the need arose many years ago. Now it’s decrepit, beyond adaptation, so it dies.
I’ve never liked round windows on anything
If they take these buildings apart, how much would it cost to get one of the modules shipped to Seattle? It would make a great shack in the woods.
They’re unattractive and have built-in tape-decks. These were designed to be disposable.
Make them like dumpsters. They can be recycled. And if someone dies in one you just unplug it and take it out to the curb to be picked up with the trash.
Your definition of “perfect” is rather different than most people’s, Charles.
@3: What about round windows on ships? They look so jaunty!
I’m sure I could click around and find a photo of what the interior of these modules look like, but it would have been nice for us lazy sloggers to just see one here. But let me guess: there’s some deep, philosophical reason for not posting one, right? Hegel would object? Kierkegaard has something to say about letting mysteries remain shrouded behind the click of a mouse?
@3 I also prefer my airplanes to have round windows, lest they fail a’la the de Havilland Comet.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/De_Havillan…
@8 & 9
Even on ships, I don’t care for round windows/portholes. Maybe triangular would look more interesting.
I think airplane windows are all sorta oval, they’re just tall ovals instead of the ill-fated comet’s wide ovals.
But even oval windows are a no for me. I don’t know why. They just look so 1975. Reminds me of disco music and bell bottoms for some reason. I no like.
Make em triangles. Or maybe trapezoids.
What do you mean, how is it possible? They were wrong. Very, very wrong. Happens all the time.
Isn’t it obvious? The building failed to accommodate the things that DON’T change: the desire to have enough space to house a family, the desire for privacy, the desire to live in a nice place that doesn’t resemble a giant stack of dumpsters- the desire to not by symbolically treated as garbage! Also they failed to keep the exterior clean. It looks absolutely decrepit. They should tear down this failed vision and replace it with a nice, warm-colored, inviting, highly durable and comfy apartment tower.