Machiya as Cultural Crossroads
Machiya as Cultural Crossroads
When Kyōto was still known as Heiankyō, between the luxurious villas of the aristocracy and the residences of wealthy merchants stood smaller dwellings generically known as machiya. This term machiya does not refer to a single architectural form, but rather to a broad and evolving category of urban dwellings whose layout, materials, and functions changed significantly over time.
Among the earliest configurations associated with this category was the hiraya (平屋), a single-storey dwelling that appeared during the late Muromachi Period (1336–1573). As urban density increased and commercial activities expanded, two-storey forms gradually developed, most notably the tsushinikai (厨子二階), in which a low upper floor was used primarily for storage or work, and later the hon'nikai (本二階), featuring a fully developed second floor suitable for living and business activities. The architectural standardization of these vernacular houses took place in the Edo Period (1603–1868), when the Pax Tokugawa fostered the growth of the artisan and merchant classes.
From the Edo Period until the postwar years, rows of machiya rhythmically lined the streets at the heart of Kyōto’s urban landscape. They were immortalized in byōbu (屏風, folding screens) and painted panels depicting scenes of urban life and festive celebrations. Because machiya were repeatedly rebuilt and adapted to changing needs, and because they were constructed primarily from wood and other perishable materials, most of the examples that survive today date no earlier than the Taishō Period (1912–1926), or in some rare cases, the Meiji Period (1868–1912).
Detail showing a row of early machiya from the “Rakuchū rakugai zu byōbu” (洛中洛外図屏風) by Kanō Eitoku (狩野永徳), 1565. From the Website of Japanese Cultural Heritage. The buildings can be recognized by the the planimetry (called unagi no nedoko [ウナギの寝床]), the positioning of the entrance and the presence of early examples of okuniwa (奥庭), interior gardens
For centuries, machiya represented the domestic architecture of a large portion of Kyōto’s population—specifically, the social strata occupying the lower tiers of Japan’s hierarchical system. Influenced by the Neo-Confucian philosophy that underpinned Tokugawa governance, Japanese society was rigidly divided into ranked classes, with little opportunity for social mobility. Except for the two extremes of the hierarchy—now defined as burakumin (部落民, outcasts) and the warrior aristocracy—the majority of Kyōto’s residents lived in machiya, in the broad sense of the term.
Interior of the zashiki in a machiya in Kita, 2023. The elements shown—the tokonoma, chigaidana, and tokobashira—were originally regulated by the sumptuary laws of the Tokugawa regime. Photograph by author
Sumptuary regulations aimed to prevent chōnin (町人, townspeople) from adopting shoin-zukuri (書院造), a residential style originally developed in Zen temples and later adopted by the ruling elite. The earliest edict was issued in the 15th day of the fifth month 1619 and is recorded in Tōbu Jitsuroku (東部実録); two other edicts were issued later the same year. The Tokugawa regulations addressed symbolic elements of architecture, such as roof forms and ornamental gateways—two highly visible features of the urban landscape (Coaldrake, 1981).
The shoin-zukuri embodied key virtues of the new military state—moderation, an appreciation for “rustic beauty”, and spiritual elevation through discipline and Zen meditation. From this style, Japanese architecture inherited some of its most distinctive elements, including tatami flooring and the tokonoma (床の間), an alcove still found in many homes today where calligraphies, paintings, and ikebana flower arrangements are displayed. Despite the shogunate’s efforts to restrict the spread of shoin-zukuri among the non-aristocratic population, many Kyōto machiya featured tatami and tokonoma, especially in the homes of wealthy merchants—who, ironically, often lent money to the very samurai impoverished by the Tokugawa regime’s mechanisms of social control.
With the rise of the reformist spirit that characterized the Meiji Period (1868–1912), the desire to reshape society starting from the family found expression in a harsh critique of traditional dwellings—particularly their spatial organization. According to the more polemical intellectuals of the time, the Japanese house lacked the “specialization” of spaces typical of Western domestic architecture: the fluidity made possible by shōji and fusuma sliding partitions, the minimalist furnishings, and the common practice of combining residential and commercial areas under the same roof were all seen as incompatible with a rational, systematized way of life.
This criticism was also rooted in the comparison with spatial values that were not native to the Japanese context—most notably, the concept of privacy. Members of extended families often shared the same living areas, and the idea of privacy as physical isolation or as an exclusive realm of individuality was essentially new to Japan.
Sugimoto Residence, one of the few machiya remained from the Meiji Period (1870, Meiji 3). Originally the home of a prosperous merchant family, it is now partly open to the public as a museum and cultural center. Photograph from the official website of Sugimotoke, 2025
The promotion of these new ideals, however, clashed with the practical realities of daily life. The heirs of the former aristocracy and well-off state officials, who had the necessary financial means, often built a representative house in the Western style alongside their traditional residence. The two structures—different in appearance—served distinct functions: social and professional activities were conducted in the modern house, while private and family life continued in the traditional one.
For most of the population, however, this solution was unfeasible. Ordinary citizens continued to inhabit machiya inherited from previous generations, yet the desire to “modernize” the appearance of their homes gave rise, during the Taishō Period (1912–1926), to a distinctive phenomenon known as kanban kenchiku (看板建築), or “billboard architecture.” This term refers to buildings that, while preserving traditional interiors, displayed Western-style facades using imported materials and foreign design elements.
Although kanban kenchiku is most often associated with Tōkyō, the trend spread to Kyōto as well. Archival photographs from the Ritsumeikan University ARC database—which allows users to browse historical views of Kyoto’s urban landscape by selecting specific areas from its search menu—include several examples of such hybrid structures. Among the images of the Horikawa, Sanjō, and Karasuma districts, one can find representative cases of kanban kenchiku.
Left: View of Higashiyama Sanjō Street in 1993, from the ARC archive. On the left, behind the parked cars, examples of machiya kanban kenchiku can be seen.
Right: Facade of a kanban kenchiku machiya in the Kitaōji area, Kita Ward, 2025. Photograph by author
A different approach was developed by Nishiyama Uzō (西山夘三 ,1911–1994), often regarded as the founding father of housing studies (jūtaku-gaku,住宅学) in Japan. Nishiyama, who became famous more for his theoretical work than for the relatively few buildings he designed, based his methodology on a comprehensive analysis of urban problems—addressing social phenomena, issues of urban microeconomy, and the dialogue between local administrations and community networks.
Through extensive research on vernacular housing, Nishiyama developed what came to be known as the nLDK model—an abbreviation (for number of rooms + Living, Dining, Kitchen) borrowed from the United States and still in use in Japan today. This model gave concrete expression to Meiji-era intellectuals’ call for clearer spatial identities within the home. Nishiyama believed that spaces for work should be clearly separated from those for rest and recreation, both physically and symbolically.
His monumental work Nihon no sumai (日本の住まい, The Houses of Japan), published in 1985, remains one of the most comprehensive references on the country’s diverse housing typologies. Nishiyama’s writings, along with those of his contemporaries, reflect a broader period of reflection on urban society that extended across urban planning, architecture, domestic practices, and the reconfiguration of familial relationships within the home.
Interior of an abandoned machiya in the Sakyō district, 2023. Originally built as a student boarding house, the residence has been restored and converted into a private home. Photograph by author
Amid this period of economic and social transformation, the question inevitably arose: what place remained for buildings such as the machiya—now considered uncomfortable, unsanitary, or even, under new building regulations, unsafe? Traditional (here used in a critical and non-essentialist sense; see the section on Machiya and the Tourism Market for further discussion) wooden houses, still widespread in Kyōto, Nara, and other regions, lacked the practicality of Western-style structures. They were built from perishable materials, offered little privacy from the street, and often failed to meet fire-safety standards, even if they showed a certain resilience to earthquakes.
A major governmental step toward addressing the “problem” of wooden architecture came with the promulgation of the Building Standard Act (Kenchiku kijunhō, 建築基準法) in 1950. Having witnessed the devastation caused by the Great Kantō Earthquake of 1923 and the widespread fires triggered by wartime bombings, lawmakers drastically restricted the use of wood as a building material.
Continuing a trend already visible since the late nineteenth century, the government openly promoted concrete and steel, seen as fire-resistant and better suited to postwar reconstruction. Further challenges arose in adapting older structures to modern standards of hygiene and comfort, as many machiya dating from the Taishō Period lacked heating, electricity, or efficient plumbing. These combined factors led to the indiscriminate demolition of countless wooden houses—even in cities like Kyōto, where traditional architecture, the low skyline punctuated by the Yasaka Pagoda, and the rhythmic succession of machiya along narrow streets had for centuries shaped not only the city’s aesthetic landscape but also its sense of collective identity.
In 1975, Japan’s legislation on cultural heritage preservation was reformed to include a new legal framework: the designation of Important Preservation Districts for Groups of Traditional Buildings (Jūyō dentōteki kenzōbutsugun hozon chiku, 重要伝統的建造物群保存地区). This system enabled municipalities to protect coherent ensembles of traditional architecture, rather than isolated monuments. As of today, 129 such districts are officially recognized across 106 cities and villages in Japan.
Within this broader context, the early 2000s witnessed what became known as the “Machiya Boom”—a civic movement in which Kyōto residents mobilized to halt the uncontrolled demolition of traditional townhouses, whose disappearance was rapidly transforming the city’s historic landscape.
Cover of the book Machiya saisei no ronri—sōzōteki machizukuri e no hōto (町家再生の論理―創造的まちづくりへの方途 ) by Muneta Yoshifumi (宗田 好史, 2009), a leading figure in the movement to preserve machiya in Kyōto.
Map showing the machiya designated as Important Cultural Properties and the districts recognized as Important Preservation Districts for Historic Buildings. Machiya can receive official designation either at the municipal or national level. The former are marked in yellow, while the latter are shown in purple.
Among the leading figures of this movement was Muneta Yoshifumi (宗田 好史), professor at Kyōto Prefectural University, who organized and coordinated the first large-scale survey of machiya in the 1990s. In an interview conducted by the author, he recalled the initiative as a deeply participatory process: as volunteers went door to door to administer questionnaires to machiya residents, more and more citizens joined the project, which ultimately engaged around 400 participants.The findings of this survey prompted Kyōto’s municipal administration to begin reflecting on the preservation of its traditional housing stock. In 2005, the Kyōto Center for Community Collaboration was established, creating a dedicated fund to support the renovation and conservation of machiya. Since its foundation, the Center has contributed to the revitalization of more than 90 machiya, using a hybrid system that combines private donations, municipal resources, and the owner’s personal investment. In 2010, machiya were added to the World Monuments Watch List, an international register highlighting culturally significant architectural heritage at risk of destruction.
Row of renovated machiya built in different periods (left: Taishō Period; middle and right, Shōwa Period), 2023. Photograph by author
Despite these preservation efforts and the activism of numerous non-profit organizations, the demolition rate of machiya remains approximately 2% per year, with nearly 14% of the total stock already lost.
Today, machiya continue to occupy a complex position at the intersection of heritage conservation, urban policy, and tourism development. Their revival embodies not only a nostalgia for Kyōto’s past but also an ongoing negotiation between preservation and transformation within the living fabric of the contemporary city.