The FuturArc Interview

SHIGERU BAN, JAPAN & VO TRONG NGHIA, VIETNAM

In this issue FuturArc juxtaposes a pair of interviews—recorded separately by our correspondents in Paris and Ho Chi Minh City—with two important voices of Asian architecture: Shigeru Ban and Vo Trong Nghia. The former is global-trotting luminary of the design world; the latter is fast becoming the face of emerging architecture in Vietnam. Each, in his way, is examining materiality in contemporary architecture—paper tubes and bamboo—reflecting on shades of sustainability and probing what it means to be ethical through design.

The following are excerpts from the interviews.

SHIGERU BAN, JAPAN
In conversation with Y-Jean Mun-Delsalle in Paris, France

Shigeru Ban is best known for his paper tube structures, where cardboard tubes—a recyclable, reusable, replaceable, biodegradable, non-toxic, easy to transport and store, low-cost and readily-available material—are a key structural element in his work. Shigeru Ban is credited for having made them an accepted primary construction material, particularly in easy-to-assemble temporary structures for disaster victims in Japan, Turkey, India, Rwanda, Sri Lanka, Italy, China and Haiti. Deeply affected by the human catastrophe caused by the Kobe earthquake in 1995, he was struck by the need to work towards the common good and became a forerunner of emergency architecture. His rethinking of material usage and structural systems has given rise to elegant architecture optimised on the technical and economic levels.

Ban studied at the Southern California Institute of Architecture and at New York’s Cooper Union School of Architecture, under its former dean John Hejduk, in the 1970s and ’80s. He apprenticed with Japanese architect Arata Isozaki before establishing his own studio in 1985 in Tokyo. On the jury of the 2006 Pritzker Architecture Prize, he has received numerous awards including 1997’s “Best Young Architect of the Year” from the Japan Institute of Architecture, the World Architecture Award for his design of the Japan Pavilion at the Hanover Expo 2000, the “Best House in the World” for his Naked House in the 2002 World Architecture Awards and the 2005 Thomas Jefferson Medal in Architecture.

YM: How and why did you start using paper tubes?
SB: I’m very interested in using weak materials. I believe that the material doesn’t need to be strong to be used to build a strong structure. The strength of the structure has nothing to do with the strength of the material. We can make a building which withstands an earthquake out of paper, as I did. For the first exhibition I designed, I had a very limited budget so I was looking for an alternative material. Paper tubes had always been surrounding my studio—tracing paper, fax paper, all kinds of paper. We were always wasting paper tubes and I thought that it could be a very good material to replace wood because I knew it was quite strong and very inexpensive. Whatever is around us, even glass, plastic, paper, anything, can be a building structural material. The paper tube is a kind of engineering wood, evolved wood. It’s much cheaper than wood, and I don’t see any reason why I shouldn’t use it for structures. It’s available almost everywhere. It’s also very pretty. The good thing about paper tubes is that they are readily available in various thickness and diameters. The weight they can support depends on these two things. Because it’s such a cheap material, nobody wants to spend that much time and energy on low-cost building—not so many people are interested in doing it.

YM: What prompts you to provide low-cost disaster-relief structures?
SB: When I started my practice, I was very disappointed that we were mostly working for privileged people, rich people, the government, big corporations. But it was too late to be a doctor or lawyer. So then I thought can I use my own experiences and knowledge for something that people need? That’s why I started working in disaster areas. Even in disaster areas, I want to create beautiful buildings. This is what it means to build a monument for the common people, and this is what I would like to continue doing as an architect.

YM: You chose wood for the Centre Pompidou-Metz’s roof structure because it is easily recycled, and the architecture of the museum meets environmental quality and sustainable development criteria. You also use paper tubes for temporary shelters and buildings because they are recyclable, replaceable, produce very little waste and are locally-available. Is creating sustainable and ecological structures important to you?
SB: I don’t know exactly the meaning of sustainability and ecology. It came afterward, after I studied. At that time, no one was talking about ecology and sustainability. I think today this is a concern for everybody. It’s a very, very important thing. But I don’t want to use this as a strategy. I started developing the paper tube structure in 1986 when people weren’t talking about recycling, ecology and sustainability. I simply don’t want to waste materials, even before this fashion came about. I use locally-available materials because they’re cheaper and nicer, not because of the ecological movement.

VO TRONG NGHIA, VIETNAM
In conversation with Le Vu Cuong in Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam

The Japanese influence on Vo Trong Nghia’s work is unmistakable; a raw sensuality that is the combination of natural materials and connectivity with the Nature. His best known works are in bamboo although he has experimented with other materials of site such as stone and mud. In the over-heated economy of Vietnam, where new buildings are little more than a return on investment, the intricate patterns and naturalistic settings of his works are (like the passive principles he advocates) a breath of fresh air.

Vo Trong Nghia was born in 1976 in Quang Binh; he started architectural training at the Hanoi Architectural University which then continued for some years in Japan. He has won the gold medal at the Asian Architects Association’s ARCASIA Awards in 2007. In 2008 he was recipient of the International Architecture Award (IAA) for his Wind and Water Café in southern Binh Duong Province. In 2009 he took home two prizes at the 2009 International Architecture Awards in Helsinki, Finland and shared the Silver prize at the Global Holcim Awards with his Japanese collaborators with whom he designed for a low-impact, ecologically-friendly university campus in the Mekong Delta city of Can Tho.

LVC: You were trained as an architect in Japan. How has that affected your work? Is there a Japanese quality to your work that sets you apart?
VTN: I trained as an architect in Japan; the basic architectural knowledge that I learned in this country has more or less influenced what I am doing at present. However I am a Vietnamese, born and grown up in Quang Binh, in the countryside with rice fields, trees, farms, forests and mountains, where rural architecture has not been affected by Vietnamese modern architecture. From this countryside I left for Japan to study architecture. The Japanese are very good at designing with Nature so I felt very comfortable with their approach to architecture.

Recently two Japanese architects were awarded the Pritzker prize; the number of Japanese awarded is probably the highest in the world. This proves that the quality of Japan architecture is very high; it strongly influences the standard and understanding of a high-quality building.

LVC: Is Nature therefore important to your work? What is the relationship between Architecture and Nature?
VTN: Living in harmony with Nature is absolutely important. In order to live in agreement with the Nature— through adverse conditions such as drought, heat and power failures—the building must ensure people are comfortable. It is the most important factor in current architectural trends.

LVC: What are the challenges facing architects in Vietnam? Is there an emerging trend of Vietnamese identity in new architecture?
VTN: Generally speaking, the world is now flat; it facilitates foreign architects coming to Vietnam to work. It also requires Vietnamese architects to compete with each other and provides them favourable conditions to learn more. Because the world is flat, Vietnamese architects also find it easy to work abroad. For example, if Vietnamese architects are winners in an international competition, they can execute their works abroad. There are however many challenges and difficulties facing Vietnamese architects.

Vietnamese architects are always rediscovering Vietnamese identity through new language and images of architecture. I am not an exception; all of my works and my thesis—researching natural ventilation in Hoi An ancient quarter—have demonstrated this. Learning from traditional architecture and thinking of how to live in agreement with Nature is the most basic thing we should do.

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