Atsushi Kitagawara: Architecture as a Dialogue with Nature and Heritage

Atsushi Kitagawara: Architecture as a Dialogue with Nature and Heritage by Orjwan Karshah

The Japanese Pavilion at Expo Milano 2015, by Atsushi Kitagawara

Atsushi Kitagawara is more than an architect; he is a scholar, artist, and thinker whose practice dissolves the boundaries between disciplines. Poetry, music, and visual art flow into his architectural language, creating a form of expression that feels both ancient and experimental. Among his most celebrated projects is the Japanese Pavilion at Expo Milano 2015, which was internationally recognized for its intricate and contemporary articulation grounded in tradition. The pavilion connected to ancestral heritage,  honored nature, and looked ahead with cultural sensitivity.

In our conversation with Kitagawara, he offered rare insight into the invisible forces that shape his work. His approach to architecture is not rooted solely in visuality or function, but in a deep cultural memory, both personal and collective, intertwined with Japan’s reverence for nature, and its forests.

The Pine Trees Screen (松林図 屏風) by Hasegawa Tōhaku

A Multidisciplinary Lens on Heritage

Kitagawara approaches tradition not as something to preserve, but as something to question, absorb, and reimagine. He is known for integrating art, poetry, and philosophy into his architecture, drawing from a wide range of cultural references and transforming them into a design language uniquely his own.

In his lecture, he highlighted Hasegawa Tōhaku’s Pine Trees Screen (松林図 屏風), a painting that embodies the poetic concept of Ma (間) the Japanese idea of interval or negative space. He explained that this philosophy shaped his way of thinking, and its quiet sensitivity can be felt throughout his work. Other inspirations also emerge from Japan’s cultural memory: the long-standing reverence for nature that is reflected in their forest folklore, the different writings of Japanese philosophers, and the Jōmon-era traditions, forests held a central place in daily life and in the core of Japanese culture.

These influences do not merely decorate the surface of his work; they shape its very foundations. Kitagawara’s architecture becomes a vessel that translates cultural heritage and the rhythms of nature into contemporary form, reflecting his engagement with the living traditions of Japan.

Childhood Home of Atsushi Kitagawara

Reimagining Tradition Through Personal Memory

When asked how he finds balance between traditional Japanese architecture and his personal design expression, he reflected: “I don’t go with the approach of mixing and adding different pieces and ideas together. I always search for interesting things in the world, and I always keep learning about these things, and also design.” This ongoing curiosity draws him to traditional wooden craftsmanship, such as that of the Hōryū-ji Temple. Yet he does not replicate; he reinterprets, creating architecture that is poetic, complex, and deeply personal.

As Kitagawara explained, he channels these influences through abstraction and memory. As a child, he watched daylight move across the dark wooden ceiling of his home, nurturing his sensitivity to light and shadow, a quality central to Japanese architectural aesthetics. This awareness is echoed in his fascination with Noh theater masks, whose expressions of joy or anger shift with the angle of light, an effect subtly mirrored in his architectural work.

In the Japanese Pavilion, this concept appears in the repeated wooden modules identical in shape yet collectively forming a structure that looks different from every angle, much like the shifting face of a Noh mask. As Kitagawara explained: “Depending on where you stand, the structure shows you a different expression.” This effect is heightened by how light filters through the timber lattices: the brighter exterior casts ever-changing shadows, while the interior offers a more dim, contemplative experience. The pavilion creates a unique psychological journey, shaped by the subtle play of light and shadow.

Ancient Ritual in Japanese Forests

Nature as an Architectural Anchor

In Japan, where nearly 68% of the land are forested areas, forests have long been revered as sacred sites for ritual, meditation, and cultivating imagination. This view is central to Kitagawara’s philosophy; as he shared with us: “As an architect, I study nature, observe it, and through that process, I become a vessel through which it reveals itself.”

This sensitivity is embodied in the Japanese Pavilion, constructed from Japanese timber sourced from forest-thinning operations wood that would otherwise be discarded, but here celebrated. Each piece was designed to be disassembled, able to return to nature if needed. The project reflects a design ethic rooted in sustainability and respect for the natural world.

After the lecture, during a quiet moment of conversation, Kitagawara shared a final reflection with the students: “Did you see the dragonfly?” he asked. “It is not only beautiful but an example of nature’s unmatched technology. Dating back over 300 million years, it remains beyond human replication. Its form, function, and complexity, even its communication, are a mystery to us. In comparison, human communication is still very primitive.”

From the sacred rituals of Japanese forests to the intricate details of a dragonfly, Kitagawara reminds us that the architect is not a creator but a translator of the natural world. In this contemplative state, by listening with humility, inspiration reveals itself to those willing to truly pay attention.

A Final Reflection 

Through Kitagawara’s multidisciplinary approach, we see how tradition can be abstracted and identity expressed not by imitating cultural roots, but by engaging with them as living sources of design. Heritage is not a museum artifact; it is a dynamic force that inspires meaningful architecture rooted in humility and depth. This is the quiet power of Japanese culture: to observe rather than assume, to listen rather than impose. As designers, we must ask: Where does our voice come from? What are the roots of our identity? And in a world driven by trends, are we willing to slow down and reconnect with the forces that truly shape our work? In a globalized age where trends often overshadow authenticity, the quest to reconnect with our roots not to replicate the past, but to reinterpret it with mastery feels more urgent than ever.