Architecture
'In Praise of Shadows' Finds Relevance in Today's Architecture
Light and bright homes are more popular than ever, but in shadows lie poetry, subtlety and great beauty
In Praise of Shadows is a classic book on traditional Japanese architecture and design, written by Junichiro Tanizaki and published in 1933, then translated into English four decades later; it is still relevant today. The title clearly shows a preference for dark over light, which equates with traditional spaces and surfaces over bright modern ones. Yet Tanizaki's essay is not solely a reactionary stance against changes in his home country; it is one of the clearest articulations of Japanese aesthetics, culturally rooted but also universally human.
His essay has a timeless quality that hits on the intimate connections we have with our objects and our surroundings. He touches on, among other things, tableware, clothes, films, toilets (yes, toilets) and buildings. Much of the essay involves the spaces of buildings, including houses, where the sense and appreciation of shadows is most pronounced. These contemporary spaces illustrate Tanizaki's ideas, providing an opportunity to quote the author and discuss his essay in light of today's architecture.
His essay has a timeless quality that hits on the intimate connections we have with our objects and our surroundings. He touches on, among other things, tableware, clothes, films, toilets (yes, toilets) and buildings. Much of the essay involves the spaces of buildings, including houses, where the sense and appreciation of shadows is most pronounced. These contemporary spaces illustrate Tanizaki's ideas, providing an opportunity to quote the author and discuss his essay in light of today's architecture.
"In making for ourselves a place to live in, we first spread a parasol to throw a shadow on the earth, and in the pale light of the shadow we put together a house."
Tanizaki contrasts the "parasol" of a Japanese house's roof to the "cap" of the roof of a Western house; the latter has a smaller "visor" to allow more sunlight to infiltrate the inside of the house. Within the deep eaves required for keeping driving winds and rain off shoji screen walls, Tanizaki finds the roots of how the "Japanese room depends on a variation of shadows, heavy shadows against light shadows — it has nothing else," as he writes. The realities of life bred an appreciation of shadows.
Tanizaki contrasts the "parasol" of a Japanese house's roof to the "cap" of the roof of a Western house; the latter has a smaller "visor" to allow more sunlight to infiltrate the inside of the house. Within the deep eaves required for keeping driving winds and rain off shoji screen walls, Tanizaki finds the roots of how the "Japanese room depends on a variation of shadows, heavy shadows against light shadows — it has nothing else," as he writes. The realities of life bred an appreciation of shadows.
"The light from the garden steals in but dimly through paper-paneled doors, and it is precisely this indirect light that makes for us the charm of a room."
Shadows are created not just by the contrast between direct sunlight and the lack of it; soft, indirect light creates shadows where the difference between dark and light exists. In this room we can see soft light coming in through a bamboo screen on the window and light being cast down the wall from a skylight. The effect is splendid.
Shadows are created not just by the contrast between direct sunlight and the lack of it; soft, indirect light creates shadows where the difference between dark and light exists. In this room we can see soft light coming in through a bamboo screen on the window and light being cast down the wall from a skylight. The effect is splendid.
"We delight in the mere sight of the delicate glow of fading rays clinging to the surface of a dusky wall, there to live out what little life remains to them."
This poetic description of light hitting a wall make us realize that a little bit of light can be more impressive than a whole wall aglow with light. The stream of light cutting across the wall shown — the brightest part of many subtle shades — is a great case in point.
This poetic description of light hitting a wall make us realize that a little bit of light can be more impressive than a whole wall aglow with light. The stream of light cutting across the wall shown — the brightest part of many subtle shades — is a great case in point.
Here is another example where slices of light intersect with the structure, surfaces and furnishings of a room to become another part of the aesthetic assemblage.
"Whenever I see the alcove of a tastefully built Japanese room, I marvel at our comprehension of the secrets of shadows, our sensitive use of shadow and light."
While this Craftsman teahouse in the Washington, D.C., area is the reverse of Tanizaki's description of an alcove in terms of light and dark (he talks about dark alcoves), the quality of shadows is still apparent. Indirect light on the walls and sloped ceiling gives the alcove off the bedroom a consistent glow that is very inviting.
While this Craftsman teahouse in the Washington, D.C., area is the reverse of Tanizaki's description of an alcove in terms of light and dark (he talks about dark alcoves), the quality of shadows is still apparent. Indirect light on the walls and sloped ceiling gives the alcove off the bedroom a consistent glow that is very inviting.
"We fill our gardens with dense plantings, they spread out a flat expanse of grass."
Tanizaki sums up the contrast between East and West as being satisfied with one's surroundings versus the determination to improve one's lot, respectively. This garden in San Francisco illustrates the cultural cross-fertilization that has happened in the ensuing 80 years since Tanizaki wrote his essay, one that has seen Asian sensibilities infuse Western contexts. The aesthetic appreciation described in In Praise of Shadows is shared by many around the world, but it runs the risk of being a style rather than something that permeates thought and experience. Tanizaki gives those willing an excellent primer for learning to appreciate the shadows of light and life.
Tanizaki sums up the contrast between East and West as being satisfied with one's surroundings versus the determination to improve one's lot, respectively. This garden in San Francisco illustrates the cultural cross-fertilization that has happened in the ensuing 80 years since Tanizaki wrote his essay, one that has seen Asian sensibilities infuse Western contexts. The aesthetic appreciation described in In Praise of Shadows is shared by many around the world, but it runs the risk of being a style rather than something that permeates thought and experience. Tanizaki gives those willing an excellent primer for learning to appreciate the shadows of light and life.
In this quote, early in Tanizaki's book, he is not referring to a space like the one pictured. He's talking about a toilet, what he calls "a place of spiritual repose." (Remember, he wrote the essay in 1933, when a toilet "in a grove fragrant with leaves and moss," as he writes, was more common.) Yet, as the essay continues across its 42 pages, this description can apply to just about everything Tanizaki discusses, if in varying degrees of literal and metaphorical terms. It's easy to sense the quiet alongside the dimness and clear orderliness of this space in The Cross House in Japan, designed by Love Architecture, which we'll also see in next three photos.