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President Architect, Ikeda Institute Honorary Chairman, Nihon Sekkei, Inc. Director, HTB Environmental Research Institute Honorary Member, The Japan Institute of Architects (JIA)
Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen; I’m Takekuni Ikeda, Honorary Chairman of Nihon Sekkei. I’d like to talk to you today about a proposal I have for a small Japanese town, Tomonoura, that is at a crossroads over its future. My ideas for Tomonoura reflect my basic belief that we can preserve our natural and historical heritage while renewing our cities in preparation for the challenges of the twenty-first century. Before I get into the heart of my talk, let me first give you a historical perspective. Japan’s major cities underwent aggressive, rapid modernization during the past half-century as they rose from the ashes of World War II and grew through the ensuing periods of reconstruction and high economic growth. This took place amidst urban redevelopment that concentrated on the needs of the automobile-oriented society and reflected advances in high-rise building techniques. As modernization progressed, cities became more efficient, the conveniences of motorization materialized, and people came to enjoy increasing material affluence. But this went on in total disregard for our cities’ natural environment and their many surviving historical structures, which now faced demise-the victims of progress. Destruction of the once-rich natural environment got so bad that it developed into a major public issue. People also started noticing the loss of their historical heritage, which they now realized was important to them as food for the human spirit. A polarization of thought emerged: Opposition between those who sought development to spur economic growth and those who advocated the importance of environmental preservation grew, evolving into a “developers versus preservationists” scenario. Tomonoura, the town I want to talk to you about today, is typical of a locality caught in such a quagmire: The two sides are deadlocked, but the tide is moving toward development because of political string-pulling. Since I believe development and preservation are not incompatible, and that we should be looking for ways for them to coexist, I volunteered a proposal. Whether my ideas will bear fruit, I can’t tell yet; but before I get into them, let me tell you about a precedent that might be of reference. I was involved in the conception and design of a resort called Huis ten Bosch, which opened in 1992 on a tract about the same size as Tomonoura. When we took on the Huis ten Bosch project, we undertook an experiment to prove the compatibility between environmental preservation and economic development. Huis ten Bosch was built on reclaimed land in a corner of Omura Bay. The prefectural government had constructed an industrial park that was supposed to energize the local economy, but the endeavor failed and was abandoned. The site stood empty for over 20 years, with nothing done about the environmental devastation. The first thing I did was see how far we could get in reviving the devastated ecosystem. The project had to be economically viable, so we had to design an urban space that struck a balance between economic and ecological needs. We did everything conceivable to help revive the ecosystem: soil improvement, tree planting—we planted four hundred thousand trees. We got rid of the concrete revetments along the shores. We even brought in advanced treatment methods to recycle domestic waste water, and excess water we put to work treating the soil with bacteria, taking care all the time not to discharge a drop into the sea! We also installed underground utility conduits with the piping and wiring for fiber-optic cables-to enable the area to have multimedia functions-along with those for energy and power supplies. Above ground, the roads in Huis ten Bosch are paved with cobblestone or brick to aid water permeability, speed limits are held to 15 kilometers per hour, and pedestrians have the right of way—so visitors can take their time as they shop and enjoy the scenery. Now to my proposal for Tomonoura. Tomonoura is a small town of 7,000, about ten kilometers south of downtown Fukuyama, a city in Hiroshima Prefecture. It has a two-thousand-year historical tradition, and in olden times it prospered as a port on the Seto Inland Sea. It is of interest because it has managed to preserve its natural and historical heritage. In particular, its central harbor is irreplaceable: Tomonoura is the only locality in Japan to retain its Edo-Period harbor facilities, which make ample use of the area’s natural characteristics. In October 1983, though, a board with authority over the harbor approved plans to reclaim part of it and build a bridge to make the old town more accommodating to cars. The plans faltered on local opposition, but proponents have used political pressure to get the ball rolling. The town pulled together an Urban Development Master Plan that is premised on the reclamation-and-bridge project and, in March 1996, submitted it to the prefectural government, paving the way for its execution. Still, proponents and opponents both lack a vision for Tomonoura’s future, and the road to a true solution is, shall we say, still fogged in. My proposal for Tomonoura seeks to address the problems post-war urban planning has wrought upon modern Japanese cities: the pollution and the destruction of nature, the loss of our streets as part of our living space, and the destruction of our historical heritage. First, I would bring the urban environment into harmony with nature by restoring the harbor and nearby sea, polluted now by domestic waste water and runoff, to the way they were in the 1960s and before. This would allow us to bring back the marine life that once inhabited these waters. Techniques include the cultivation of mountain and forest vegetation in the town’s hinterlands, restoration of the waterside ecosystem, recycling of domestic waste water, and improvement of the breakwaters around the harbor. Next, I would bring back safe pedestrian spaces and provide adequate infrastructure. Out with the telephone poles, in with fiber-optic cables and plumbing for the water supply and sewer system, hidden away in underground utility conduits. I would also place fire hydrants at key points so the town could be fitted out with an advanced, computerized disaster-prevention system. Tomonoura’s old historical downtown is marked on the north and south by boundary stones erected over a century ago along Tomonoura’s main road. Within this area I would impose a speed limit of 15 kilometers per hour. I’ve also proposed plazas, called Tsuji Squares, that would provide space for buses and the loading and unloading of delivery trucks. These would alleviate traffic congestion and free the streets for pedestrians, making them once again a place where people can shop and mingle, and children can play, in peace. Creating an environment alive with historical tradition is an important challenge in building more attractive urban spaces, if not only because the cultural continuity provided by an awareness of history nourishes the human soul. Tomonoura, as one of the few towns in the world to have preserved such a wealth of tradition, is prominent historically. But discarded are the wells that acted as social focal points in the daily lives of yesterday’s citizenry, and the private houses of the old town are gradually being torn down. My proposal calls for an affirmative stance in restoring these structures and exploring creative ways to breathe life into historical treasures. Also, we need to promote local specialty industries to sustain citizens’ livelihood. Beginning with swordsmithing 700 years ago, Tomonoura has long thrived as a town trading in iron products-hand-wrought nails, anchors, and other fittings for ships, and more recently it even had a steel industry. There are other local specialties with long, proud traditions, too; but all are now in decline-the victims of mass-produced products. People need to realize that such industries will be of great significance in the future because of their high-quality, hand-crafted products. Multimedia could, and should, be used to convey their true value to people on a national scale so locals can secure customers and stabilize their businesses. Lastly, my proposal foresees urban facilities appropriate for international exchange. Fortunately for Tomonoura, its geographical features and decreasing population protected it from the modernization and accompanying urban sprawl that has ruined many other cities. I propose keeping plans for the largely in-tact old section clearly differentiated from those for the outer areas. The buildings and shops of historical value lining its streets would be restored and kept in the best possible condition; hotels, an international convention center, and other commercial buildings would be built in an old steelworks park and on the level land on the outskirts, together with car parks and other modern facilities—especially the underground infrastructure to support multimedia functions. All would be harmonized with nature, and the urban facilities of the old town and the outer areas would complement each other. I offer my suggestions in the hope that the people of Tomonoura will use them as the impetus to embark on a better path for their town. They ought to have the option of doing something other than the simple pursuit of economic development through conventional means—things like reclaiming land and building bridges. My proposal for Tomonoura is inspired by and based on the results of our successes at Huis ten Bosch, where many of my ideas have been tried and proven. If carried out, I believe it is assured of success: Certainly we can preserve our natural and historical heritage while renewing our cities without taking them the way of the many, in Japan and elsewhere, that have sacrificed so much in the name of modernization! Thank you.
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