Eleven years ago, Danish homeware company Vipp opened its very first guesthouse in Sweden. Called Vipp Shelter, the house is a 55 m2 prefabricated steel pod that, today, can be rented starting from EUR 1,500 for two nights. Since then, Vipp has gone on to build and open 10 other guesthouses around the world and they have all been widely celebrated for their designs.
Now, if you look on their website, you'll see that they describe their guesthouses in the following way: "Not a hotel. Not a showroom. Not like any place you've ever stayed." This is mostly true, but they are also like showrooms for the company. And I've always found this to be a clever strategy, because what better way to experience a brand then to live with it for a few days in some beautiful locale.
Their latest guesthouse is called Vipp Tunnel (pictured above) and it's located in the Tasmanian bush. In case you're interested, it opened this week for bookings.
Photos via Vipp
In my recent post about "takeaways from Japan" I spoke about a willingness to experiment and be playful with the built environment. I said that quite often people design homes around what they want, as opposed to what they think might broadly appeal to the market. So today, let's look at an example. Below is a site on the outskirts of Tokyo, about an hour from the center of the city. The architect — Kamakura Studio — describes it as being situated in a "new town" where about 75% of the residents have moved in within the past decade. And like Japan as a whole, problems of aging and population decline are expected in the future.
Using Google Maps to get rough dimensions, the site looks to be somewhere around 8m wide by 11m deep. So this is not a huge site compared to what you might find in the suburbs of other cities, but it's certainly a very workable set of dimensions. Also noteworthy is the fact that the area has no sidewalks. This is common throughout Tokyo. Ordinarily, this would imply a suburban mental model. But in practice, Tokyo's streets actually feel very pedestrian-friendly. And that's because they tend to be narrow and the entire city is oriented mostly around rail.
What was ultimately developed on the site is this (House F):
Totalling 169 m2, the first floor of the house serves as an office for the architect and as an open space for the local community. The firm opens up the space to people who may want to stop in for coffee (or just hang out) and for movie nights. There's even a "plant-sharing network" on the terrace where dozens of households supposedly contribute and participate. On the second and third floor of the house are the domestic quarters. Here there are two generous bedrooms, study spaces, and multiple balconies, one of which provides access to a rooftop terrace.
It's a highly livable house, but it's also designed to meet a particular set of ambitions. I mean, look at the above coffee window. And this is one of the really cool things about domestic architecture in Japan. (If any of you are familiar with how the zoning would work for a site like this, I'd love to understand that.)
Project images via Kamakura Studio
It’s a wrap for the 14th annual fresh pow adventure. (Here's a short video.) I’m now on a plane home. But let me tell you, “Japow" did not disappoint. We went for the powder and, without any exaggeration, it snowed every single day. I have never seen snow accumulate as fast as it does on Hokkaido. I now understand why after big storms some people need to leave their house via the second floor. The region gets that much snow in January and February.
Of course, we also got the chance to spend a number of days in Tokyo. When I first visited the city over 20 years ago, I absolutely loved it. And I feel the same way after this trip. Tokyo is up there for me — it’s one of my favorite cities. It’s obviously enormous, but it’s highly livable and it works, really well in fact. So here’s a list of some of the things — both small and big — that I admire about the place and that I think we should adopt back in Toronto.
Its reputation is, of course, true. Tokyo is a neat and clean city, especially given its scale. And everyone seems to be bought into it, because they don’t even have public garbage cans. I don’t exactly know how you instil this into the culture of a place, but I think it goes along with the overall pride they seem to take in their work and the commitment to quality. How you do anything is how you do everything.
Without fail, every time you sit down at a restaurant, the first thing you will receive is a moist towel to clean your hands. It’s a super simple and welcome gesture. Why not clean your hands before you eat?
Everything has a place. Receipts are handed over in trays. Restaurants have baskets at each table so you don’t have to put your bag on the floor. Hangers are provided so you don’t throw your jacket on the back of your chair. And the list goes on. It’s orderly and civilized.
Our toilets are in the stone ages. You’re not going to get yourself clean with just paper. You need a comfortable warm seat and highly adjustable jets of water. I never fully appreciated this need before the trip, but now I’m a true believer. It’s time for a new toilet.
Lots of people still wear masks in Japan, and across Asia. Unselfishly, people do this when they themselves are sick and want to protect others from their germs. It’s a practice that I had hoped would stick in the Western world following the pandemic. But it did not.
Convenience stores (7-11, Lawson, Seicomart, etc) are everywhere and they’re actually good. You can have a decent meal at any of them. We need to up our game. As North American cities relax their zoning to allow more small-scale retail in residential neighborhoods, I also hope that, generally, we see a stronger culture of “going to the corner store."
Tokyo cares deeply about art, architecture, design, and fashion. There’s a culture of investing in all of it, and you see it clearly across the city. I mean, look at their public toilets, many/most of which have been designed by a celebrated architect.
There’s also a high willingness to experiment and be playful with the built environment, including domestic architecture. Many people seem to design their homes around what they want, as opposed to what might broadly appeal to most people in the market. (This is a topic we’ve spoken about before.)
Alongside all of this, I find that there’s a cartoon quality to a lot of the aesthetics in Tokyo. You see this in the graphic design, the design of everyday objects, and, of course, all the actual cartoons and anime you see everywhere. It makes the city feel very playful at times.
Tokyo is very much a vertical city, as opposed to just a city with tall buildings. There are buildings all over the place with retail uses located on some hidden upper floor and where you need to queue for an elevator to access it. There’s no shortage of evidence to suggest that this “only works in Asia”, but maybe it could work in more places than we think. Oftentimes our land use policies limit the amount of commercial floor area in mixed-use zones. But why even bother? Let the market determine what’s viable.
Finally, and we talked about this last week, Tokyo is a city that is clearly oriented around rail. And it’s the only way that a city of this size could operate as beautifully as it does. This isn’t new information, but it remains my number one takeaway. Because Tokyo is an easier city to get around than Toronto. In fact, we found ourselves not wanting to take Ubers because rail was actually faster, cheaper, and more convenient. That’s a testament to the power and efficiency of rail.
What did I miss? Let me know in the comment section below.