An Encounter

A slamming sound followed by a loud, angry voice broke the silence of the night. I turned my head towards the voice. A man in a white shirt holding a thick black binder was about to give another blow to the young man in a construction worker’s uniform and a hard hat. The furious man wasn’t big or tall but had a threatening presence complemented by his thick voice and a strong Osaka accent. Suddenly he turned and approached me. “Are you Fura-san (my pseudonym used in the ’80s)? I’m Tadao Ando.” He politely bowed once and examined the fixtures I was installing on the first floor of the empty new building which had been designed by this renowned architect. “They’re beautiful… look like surfboards. Do you surf?”

This was how I first met the architect Tadao Ando in 1984. A month after graduating from Tokyo University of the Arts (formerly known as Tokyo National University of Fine Arts and Music) I was commissioned to design the interior of Ando’s new building in the center of Osaka. Strangely enough, Ando, known as the most perfecting of all architects in the world, didn’t bother to meet the young unknown sculptor before giving him this opportunity. He had only seen some schematics and a model before my sculptural fixtures arrived in Osaka from Tokyo.

Many things about Tadao Ando are unusual for a “typical” architect. He is the only self taught architect from Japan to have received worldwide acclaim. A former pro boxer who has fought all over in Asia became an architect feared by construction workers and assistants alike. He once threw an ashtray at his staff, who all had master degrees, almost punched Dr. Peter Eisenman, not to mention that poor construction worker… But above all, the most unexpected thing about Ando is his architecture. How can a man with such a temper possibly create buildings with such serenity and awe?

Like his twin brother whom he didn’t grow up with (Ando was raised by his grandparents), Tadao Ando started to fight professionally when other kids of his age were going to colleges. Later when his brother started graphic design Ando wanted to do something similar. During their early 20’s, the brothers designed most of the night clubs owned by Yamaguchi-gumi (better known as Yakuzas), the most powerful crime family in Japanese history.

Then Ando gradually picked up small architecture projects neglected by other aspiring architects with degrees. He executed each project with uncompromising attention down to the tiniest details. Most amazingly this young boxer had an incomparable aesthetic that most Japanese architects at that time couldn’t match. His breakthrough came with an incredibly small building with the smallest of budgets. The tiny row house in Sumiyoshi built in 1976 (Azuma House) earned the 34-year-old Ando world-wide recognition.

The next day after my encounter with Tadao Ando I visited his firm. He appeared somehow shy, but his extraordinary willpower could be felt in the air. We spoke about sculpture and architecture. Unfortunately I don’t remember much except a few remarks which have stuck in my mind over the years. One was, “An architecture always needs to be big enough to contain a person, but size is not a parameter in sculpture. A one centimeter sculpture could become a masterpiece.” There was another one, “When I have to build something on a tiny piece of property, I feel like I’m back in the boxing ring. A small project becomes a life or death matter.”

Ando was a genius at bringing out so much from a small space. He also told me that the life of a building only starts after it is built, and he had to take care of the building as long as it remained. And because of that he didn’t accept many projects outside of Osaka.

Today clients and admirers of Tadao Ando include the most powerful figures in various fields of design; Giorgio Armani, Karl Lagerfeld, Rolf Fehlbaum (Vitra), to name a few. The scale and budget of each project is often infinite, and the design has become more stylish and elegant than ever.

Is the hungry fighter still alive? Sadly, I’d say no. As Ando’s bio has become relatively normal and his behavior calmer, his architectures have started to lose something that his earlier works used to have. I cannot hear the heartbeat of a fierce fighter emitting from a beautiful mass of concrete any more… or was it just a ghost that I heard when I had my own boiling ambition?

ー世界的な建築家の安藤忠雄氏との思い出に残る出会いー