Machiya as Cultural Crossroads
Machiya as Cultural Crossroads
At the center of the ongoing processes of re-evaluating traditional Japanese architecture are not only the grand and opulent residences, but also smaller and more modest housing units. The words machiya and nagaya, when placed in contrast, evoke distinct images—not only in terms of structural form and appearance, but also in the atmosphere and sociocultural background they represent.
While the former category includes a number of elegant dwellings originally owned by prominent figures of Japanese society (particularly during the Meiji, Taishō, and Shōwa Periods), nagaya are associated with a humbler imaginary, as they were typically rented by artisans who used them as both living and working spaces.
Current trends in the revitalization of vernacular architecture can be grouped into several recurring models. These models allow for a wide range of variations, yet they provide a useful framework for observing how traditional architecture is being reinterpreted and reintegrated into the contemporary urban fabric in the aftermath of the machiya boom of the 1980s and 1990s.
Interior of a machiya being renovated for residential purpose near the Katsura River, Kyōto, 2023. Photograph by author
Interior of a nagaya being renovated near the Kamo River, Kyōto, 2023. The place is now open as a shared office and café. Photograph by author
Interior of a machiya in the Sakyō area, 2023. The dwelling had been an akiya (空家, vacant house) for at least ten years before the start of the renovation process. It is now used as a private residence. Photograph by author
Broadly speaking, the discourse surrounding the revitalization of traditional Japanese architecture can be divided into two main approaches: hozen (保全, preservation) and saisei (再生, regeneration). Although both share the goal of keeping machiya and other historic dwellings alive, they diverge significantly in their methods of intervention, their intended uses, and the type of relationship they establish with tradition itself.
The hozen approach is most commonly observed in machiya of medium or large scale, often those once owned by affluent merchant families. In these cases, the emphasis lies on the faithful transmission of architectural characteristics: buildings are restored with meticulous attention to reproducing the original design, ensuring formal and symbolic continuity with the past.
It is therefore not surprising that the new uses assigned to such buildings are closely linked to the idea of “tradition.”
Section of a tsuchikabe (土壁, earthen wall) of a machiya under restoration, 2023. Years of abandonment had caused decay and rot in the inner wooden framework. Photograph by author
Interior of the zashiki of Azukiya, a machiya in Higashiyama, 2023. The dwelling, now used as a lodging, has been renovated following the traditional aesthetics of machiya. Photograph by author
These buildings often host craft workshops, lessons in traditional arts, or restaurants specializing in kaiseki cuisine. Generally, the entire structure is subject to the restoration process and remains under the ownership of a single household, which acts as the custodian of its historical and cultural value.
Thus, hozen places great emphasis on maintaining traditional spatiality, rejecting external influences and preserving an unbroken sense of continuity with the architectural image of premodern Japan.
Plan of the Sugimotoke, 2023. Personal collection of the author
The Case of Sugimotoke (杉本家)
Located on Ayakoji-dōri in Shimogyō, the Sugimoto Residence stands as one of the most complete surviving examples of an Edo Period machiya. The building was rebuilt in 1870 after a fire, but the carpenterers followed the original, pre-Meiji design. Designated as an Important Cultural Property of Japan, the house has been continuously maintained by the same merchant family for over two centuries. Its long wooden façade, tiled roof, and delicate kōshi preserve the archetypal urban profile of the Kyōto townhouse, while the interior reveals a precise spatial hierarchy extending from the shopfront to the inner garden and storehouses at the rear. The garden was designated as a National Site of Scenic Beauty, further underscoring the residence’s cultural and aesthetic significance.
Unlike adaptive-reuse projects that pursue transformation, the preservation of the Sugimoto Residence embodies the principle of hozen—the commitment to sustaining authenticity through careful maintenance and transmission. The approach prioritizes minimal intervention and deep continuity: traditional carpentry methods, tatami layouts, and tsuchikabe walls are retained not for display, but to sustain the lived knowledge and culture of everyday life embedded in the building’s materials and techniques. Today, part of the house is open to the public as a museum, while the remaining half continues to be inhabited by members of the Sugimoto family.
Interior of the zashiki in the Sugimoto Residence, with koinobori (鯉のぼり, carp-shaped streamers) displayed for Kodomo no Hi (子供の日, Children’s Day), 2023. These decorations, traditionally flown to celebrate the health and growth of children, are shown here before being raised for the festival. Photograph by author
Interior of the kitchen of Sugimotoke, with the kamado (竈) and mizuya (水屋) still preserved, 2023. Photograph by author
This coexistence of public and private spaces exemplifies how preservation can remain rooted in lived tradition. The Sugimoto family offers guided tours, cultural workshops, and seasonal exhibitions that illuminate the everyday aesthetics of machiya life. In this way, hozen is understood not as static protection, but as an active practice of stewardship. The residence remains inhabited, cleaned, and repaired in the same manner as it has been for generations, demonstrating how hozen can maintain the integrity of architectural heritage while allowing it to remain socially and spiritually alive.
In contrast, the saisei approach seeks a balance between preservation and innovation. It is often applied to nagaya and medium-sized machiya that were historically rented to small artisans. In these cases, restoration does not aim for a faithful reproduction of the original structure, but rather for a reinterpretation that responds to contemporary residential and commercial needs, as well as to current safety, hygiene, and accessibility regulations. The functions housed within these renovated buildings often reflect this openness: beauty salons, shared kitchens, coworking spaces, or restaurants serving international cuisine coexist with traditional elements, transforming their use through a modern lens.
Moreover, saisei does not necessarily concern the entire building; it can involve a row of nagaya or a cluster of housing units, where shared spaces are redistributed among multiple households or activities. In this sense, the shared use of space gives rise to a new model of urban sociability.
Interior of the tōriniwa of a machiya now used as a beauty salon, Kyōto, 2023. During the renovation process, the internal partitions were removed to create a single open space, while the garden (niwa) and the traditional earthen passageway (tōriniwa) were carefully preserved. This intervention exemplifies the saisei approach, balancing spatial transformation with respect for traditional architectural elements. Photograph by author
Exterior of SHIKIAMI CONCON, Nakagyō Ward, Kyōto, 2023. Photograph by author
The Case of Shikiami CONCON (シキアミCONCON)
Located in the heart of Kyōto’s Nakagyō ward, SHIKIAMI CONCON represents one of the most distinctive recent experiments in the adaptive reuse of machiya. The complex brings together three renovated wooden townhouses and a cluster of repurposed shipping containers. This juxtaposition of the traditional and the industrial makes the site a compelling example of how architecture can engage with cultural heritage without resorting to mere imitation.
Interior of the shared space in the machiya part of Shikiami CONCON, 2023. Photograph by author
The project was conceived by a collective of designers, artists, and local entrepreneurs under the guidance of producer and architect Kawabata Hiroyuki, who describes its goal as “uncovering the cultural potential embedded in Kyōto’s everyday life” (Shikiami Concon official website, concon.Kyōto). Rather than isolating the machiya as nostalgic relics, SHIKIAMI CONCON repositions them as active participants in present-day urban life.
The preserved wooden façades and latticework maintain a clear dialogue with the surrounding streetscape, while the addition of the containers introduces flexible, low-cost units for creative studios, cafés, and event spaces. This balance allows the ensemble to function simultaneously as a workplace, a community hub, and a small-scale tourist attraction. From a theoretical standpoint, SHIKIAMI CONCON aligns with the principles of saisei: it accepts transformation as a necessary condition for continuity. The reuse of industrial materials underscores a willingness to reinterpret the machiya not as static cultural artifacts, but as adaptable frameworks capable of accommodating new forms of social interaction and production.
View from the second floor of the central machiya within the complex, 2023. On the ground floor, visible through the wooden floorboards, are a shared kitchen and a recreational space. Photograph by author
Corridor of repurposed shipping containers in the elevated section of SHIKIAMI CONCON, 2023. The containers have been refurbished, equipped with air conditioning, and converted into offices and rentable workspaces. Photograph by author
Through this coexistence of the old and the new, SHIKIAMI CONCON demonstrates how heritage architecture can foster creativity and social engagement.
Finally, the relationship with tradition marks the most evident distance between the two approaches. Hozen is guided by an idea of continuity, seeking to preserve without compromise the spatial and symbolic codes of Japanese architecture. Saisei, by contrast, is open to the introduction of foreign elements—whether materials, styles, or cultural practices. This openness can foster innovative solutions and greater economic vitality, but it also entails a partial rupture with the architectural imaginary inherited from the past.
Virtual tour of a kyōmachiya by the City of Kyōto
This online resource allows visitors to explore the spatial composition of a traditional kyōmachiya, moving through its main rooms and garden as though walking inside. The virtual tour is based on Rakutabi Kyōmachiya (らくたび京町家, formerly the Muranishi residence), a townhouse built in 1932 and recognized as a representative example of a modern kyōmachiya. The building — together with the storehouse at its rear — has been designated as both a National Registered Tangible Cultural Property and a Kyōto City Landscape Asset. As can be seen from the tour, the interior has been faithfully preserved, offering an excellent example of architectural hozen. Source: Virtual Tour of a Kyōmachiya, City of Kyōto, Cultural Properties Protection Division.
Evolution of Spatial Values
The tokonoma and the shoin are elements of traditional Japanese architecture that became part of the architectural vocabulary of the machiya during the Tokugawa Period. Their original purpose was to create a space devoted to the contemplation of beauty—functionally inessential, yet contributing to the overall aesthetic balance of the house. In many machiya restored following the hozen approach, these spaces are carefully preserved and display calligraphy scrolls, ikebana arrangements, or other seasonal ornaments. In smaller houses, where the main priority is to make efficient use of the available space, the tokonoma and shoin have often been reinterpreted—sometimes maintaining, and at other times departing from, their original ornamental value.
The three photographs below illustrate the extent to which the tokonoma has been changing its semantic function even within traditional dwellings. Its meaning in contemporary houses diverges from the exoticized narrative of “traditional Japanese architecture,” revealing itself instead as fluid and open to hybridization—far more than the canonical examples found in the most famous machiya might suggest. Once again, the so-called “traditional” space proves its elasticity, showing a capacity to evolve and adapt alongside the needs of its inhabitants.
Shoin in the hanare (離れ, separate room inside the plan of the house) in a machiya in Kamigyō, 2025. The elder woman who lived there used the space of the chigaidana (違い棚, decorative shelves) to display pictures of her late relatives. Photograph by author
Tokonoma in a nagaya in Shimogyō, converted into a shared house for students, 2023. The wooden structure remained the same, but the space has been employed by the student living there as library. Photograph by author
Tokonoma and chigaidana at Kamogawa Creative Base, Shimogyō, 2023. Traditionally, these alcoves are not entered or used for seating; in a reversal of their customary semantics, the current owners have placed chairs within them. Photograph by author
The spatial practices and meanings associated with the zashiki as a whole also change depending on the household. More specifically, some traditional customs have fallen out of use as a result of shifting gender roles and evolving family relationships in Japanese society.
One change concerns eating practices. According to several machiya owners interviewed during this research, for a long time it was customary for family members to eat separately: women and children took their meals in the nakanoma (中の間), while the father, guests, and occasionally the eldest son dined in the zashiki. The lady of the house would serve tea, refill bowls, and clear trays, but would not join the meal herself, eating only afterward.
Interior of the zashiki in a machiya in Kamigyō, Kyōto, 2025. The space was originally a hanare and was later converted into a meeting and gathering room. Photograph by author
Zashiki of Kamanzachō Chōie, Nakagyō, 2023. Photograph by author
Changes like this indicate how the practical and symbolic boundary between zashiki and nakanoma is being diluted, much like the distinction once marked by the difference in flooring between tatami and doma (土間, earth flooring).
These transformations are sometimes interpreted as a loss of spatial memory, potentially leading certain habits and rituals to fade away. However, such change is intrinsic to the nature of lived space: to freeze it would be to turn everyday domestic life into a museum artifact. Thus, the transformation of the values and meanings associated with machiya architecture should not necessarily be seen as a symptom of decline. On the contrary, it can be understood as evidence that these structures continue to respond to the needs of those who inhabit them. As noted before, practices of eating separately remained common until the 1950s, but are now largely obsolete. In other words, the domestic spaces of machiya are transforming in response to the changing dynamics of gender and family life.
While larger, older houses tend to preserve the semantic distinction between zashiki and nakanoma—expressed through furniture, rituals, and patterns of use—smaller nagaya and machiya inhabited by younger families show an increasing democratization of space, with the specific meanings of each room gradually losing their traditional weight.
Interior space of a moda acca, a machiya in Nakagyō, now repurposed as a beauty salon, during its restoration in 2023. The shōji and fusuma that partitioned the rooms and the zashiki were eliminated to create a bright open space. Photograph by author
In summary, hozen and saisei represent two complementary modes of intervention—one more conservative, the other more adaptive. While the former safeguards the architectural memory of tradition, the latter responds to the needs of contemporary society, illustrating how machiya and nagaya can continue to thrive within the urban fabric of Kyōto and other Japanese cities. In this sense, restoration can be understood as a form of translation—a continuous act of interpreting and transmitting spatial values across generations. Both hozen and saisei operate within this translational space: one seeks fidelity to the original architectural language, while the other adapts it to new social and material contexts. What unites them is not the degree of transformation, but the shared effort to sustain the living relationship between people and their built environment.