The idea of content today is mainly hindrance, a nuisance, a subtle or not so subtle philistinism.
Susan Sontag, “Against Interpretation”.

Of course, regardless of specifics, I always insist that the final form must be beautiful.
Kazuyo Sejima, “Conversation with Kazuyo Sejima”.

Against Interpretation

Explanations come afterwards. This interview instead concerns the design process that precedes them. It neither rejects ideas and reflections nor seeks a design detached from external conditions. Rather, it invites us to reconsider where the value of architecture lies.

Koji Taki, the interviewer, attempts to justify Kazuyo Sejima’s architecture. Going beyond the “mere” aesthetic praise or discomfort, Taki seeks to legitimise the unease arising from Sejima’s unconventional forms, to uncover hidden meanings within them. In doing so, Taki frames Sejima as a contemporary architect whose work may appear to reiterate prevailing tendencies, yet also can be interpreted as a critical system that plays a game with society. Justification is thus demanded in order to establish value.

However, Sejima rejects this interpretive framing. Precisely because Sejima considers herself rooted in the present, she resists apparent intentions in opposition to present reality. For her, some righteous concepts that precede the work seem arbitrary, which may even risk falling into the error of perpetuating archaic ideas. In other words, insisting that what is either idealised or outdated still corresponds to present reality is itself a fiction.

Sejima offers four examples of such fictions, especially in domestic architecture: the idea of the conventional family, which assigns functions within a residence; the fixed sense of the communal, which precedes the design of an apartment building; the “residents” invoked by administrative planners but never actually found; and the so-called “regional differences” claimed by planners. This is not a question of whether such ideas are necessary for defending architecture. The issue is simply whether they make sense or can be proven.

Rather than fixing a concept in advance, Sejima seeks to discover it through the design process. Undefined variables are not defined in words but explored through spatial forms. For instance, in the Multimedia Studio project, the notion of multi-functionality is explored through spatial questions such as whether the space should be divided. This concrete concept is inseparable from the logic of form and may lead to a deductive process once established, in order to prove that it makes sense. Yet it does not originate in the deduction of an abstract idea. It is therefore not about an idea.

It does not mean that Sejima rejects all the ideas of architecture she held prior to the planning process. She clearly states that her disagreement with Ito’s Pao, or with the perspective envisioning architecture as a personal covering, gave rise to the concept of the Platform series. She also mentions an architecture that allows multiple movements and a homogeneous space that is not defined by exceptional elements. The common thread among these ideas seems less a strong intention than a refusal to control. Because these ideas are not clear enough to be immediately translated into a single fixed form, they can exist alongside various other elements such as the client’s wishes, the shape of the plot, or social conditions.

Another way of refusing a strong intention is to expose what is already there. In the Saishunkan Seiyaku Women’s Dormitory project, Sejima chose to expose, and even accentuate, the fact that eighty employees live together under the corporate goal of profit. At first glance, this may seem to merely reiterate reality. However, even if applying a dogmatic philosophy to a private company’s dormitory were successful, there would be no way to verify whether it actually redirects the client’s attention to others, or merely succeeds in presenting a shadow world that conceals reality behind it. Considering this, exposing the situation rather than concealing it becomes more understandable as a form of social commentary.

This aligns with her perspective that sees physical constraints not as limitations but as possibilities. Sejima does not envision architecture as a prescription of solutions to social problems. Instead, she understands architecture as a vehicle that allows us to grasp society and culture more clearly. This, she suggests, is architecture’s own distinctive capacity. Because architecture cannot exist apart from present reality, constructing another idealised reality of meaning has little to do with the work itself. Interpretation is what follows.

Finally, Sejima turns her attention to the final form itself rather than its meaning. She aspires to produce architecture with strength and substance in the future. Yet her affirmation of undefined variables persists. This suggests that the transparent materials used in her earlier projects are neither symbolic expressions of functional transparency nor attempts to reveal conceptual clarity. Abstract speculation therefore does not exert hegemony over the final results, even if it stimulates the design process. It is thus consistent to treat the final result—which she insists must be beautiful—as a matter separate from the planning process.

Therefore, nothing justifies what is not beautiful.