青い扉 － 荻窪Bar第1期改修 / Ateliers Mumu Tashiro

“In our youth, we were inspired by Ruskin. Yet Ruskin was a complex, contradictory, and paradoxical saint. That era was filled with an insufferable stench and was by no means something that should endure”.
—Le Corbusier, translated by Kunio Maekawa, The Decorative Arts of Today

〈Ogikubo Bar〉is tucked away in a residential neighborhood. It’s a simple bar my father opened in 2015 by lining up a camping table and pipe chairs in his home garage. Ten years after opening, thankfully, it has become a bustling spot frequented by regulars of all ages and genders. Until now, it had scarcely any semblance of a proper storefront, but to mark this ten-year milestone, it was finally decided to install an entrance door. “Why just a door? Why not go for a full renovation?” I thought. But my father, the master who prioritizes regulars above all, expressed concerns: “If it suddenly changes drastically, it might make our regulars, who are used to the current atmosphere, feel uncomfortable.” And, “If we do major construction, it would inconvenience the regulars who come every day.” In recognition of his dedication, I decided to challenge myself to explore the possibilities a single door could open.

About Blue: I began my study with “blue.” Blue is deeply familiar in Japanese life, appearing in traditional colors like indigo, navy, and lapis lazuli. Moreover, it stands out distinctly in dimly lit spaces more than in bright ones (which is why blue is chosen for road signs), making it the most suitable color for a bar where night is the main character. I mixed blue with gray, black, green, yellow, and other colors, varying the ratios, comparing and evaluating them to find the ideal “blue.” However, we realized that using a ready-made solid blue, without adjusting saturation or hue through mixing, actually produced a more harmonious blue tone. While it might appear too vivid under natural daylight, it reveals a calming presence under dim streetlights. Furthermore, it subtly changes by picking up the reddish-brown grain of the lauan base. We wanted to see how a door imbued with the “personality” of blue, piercing through the inorganic concrete, could carve out a microcosm like a bar, and what kind of worldview it could inject into the residential neighborhood.

William Morris critically viewed the cheap, shoddy goods produced by mass manufacturing after the Industrial Revolution. He proposed reviving medieval handicrafts and integrating art into daily life. The thinker John Ruskin recognized this need before Morris. The opening passage is part of a discourse by Le Corbusier, paying homage to their work while also critiquing it. Ultimately, the expensive products crafted by the artisans Morris advocated for were purchased only by a small segment of the bourgeoisie. In 19th-century England, it didn’t prove easy to popularize the art for the people they sought to create.

About Glass: In Europe, stained glass was used as church decoration to convey Christ’s teachings, flourishing during the Gothic period thanks to large openings made possible by the invention of flying buttresses. Morris designed numerous stained-glass pieces for private residences during the Arts & Crafts movement. Glass also flourished in Japan as a distinctive traditional craft unique to each region, making it one of the materials that symbolize craftsmanship. For this project, we carefully selected 10 distinct glass panes—each differing in color, pattern, and light transmission—from a specialty store that handles a diverse range of glass, from domestic to imported products. These panes were manufactured in countries including Japan, the United States, France, and Germany. Simultaneously, we scattered them across the entire door, carefully considering the height, size, and usability of each piece to ensure they remained distinct. From dusk until midnight, the ever-changing light accentuates the individuality of each glass. Beyond them, the flickering shadows of people and glasses create a sense of a hazy depth. Peering through the small window to see if anyone has come today, then catching sight of a customer popping their head in, always stirs a nostalgic feeling. It’s because I believe that connecting with society doesn’t necessarily require opening wide onto the street; caring for each other’s presence through a small window, along with the light, is also a precious form of social connection.
Furthermore, to incorporate the three-dimensional changes created by human movement, we integrated push-out windows and sliding windows. For the opening sections, we used prefabricated wooden window frames, adjusting them on-site to fit each pane’s thickness precisely. If this choice is more rational, then relying on custom-made pieces while appropriately incorporating ready-made items represents the reality of modern craftsmanship.

When Charlotte Perriand first visited Le Corbusier’s studio, he reportedly looked at her portfolio and coldly remarked, “We don’t do cushion embroidery here.” However, Le Corbusier highly praised Perriand’s work Bar dans les combles (Bar in the Attic), presented at the Salon d’Automne in 1927, and recruited her to his studio. Perriand then joined the furniture project Corbusier was passionately pursuing at the time. She was appointed to supervise the furniture artisans and went on to produce an outstanding body of work.

About the Bench: During her first visit to Japan in 1940, Perriand drew inspiration from the Kasumi Shelves at Katsura Imperial Villa to design her masterpiece bookshelf, Nuage, meaning “cloud” in Japanese. Beyond storage, these shelves served a vital decorative purpose, adding color to the tokonoma alcove. For the bar door, we wanted to incorporate more than just the function of entering and exiting; we sought to create space for interaction with human behavior. Thus, we embedded a fold-out bench within part of the door itself. This door aims to be furniture that can be opened, closed, or sat upon, designed to be touched by the human body and to evoke the very pleasure of use. Observing the actual bench area revealed surprising, diverse behaviors beyond my design expectations: children passing by stopping to play, guests using it as a waiting area when full, people smoking (with consideration for neighbors), or enjoying drinks in the evening breeze. And above all, the door itself naturally took on a role beyond just being a door through these little moments of human play.

The Blue Door is a small, calculated move, a gesture imbued with hope for the door as decoration. The allure of decoration lies in the space it creates for humans to discover new meanings beyond its prescribed purpose. Precisely because it is decoration, it inspires unexpected behaviors and emotions in people, fostering a vibrant interaction with the space. It can be sat upon, moved, peered into, or become a solid blue mass. Designed as a decorative object for people, the Blue Door is a liberated object, freed from the meaning of being a “door.”

Bars during the Industrial Revolution flourished as places where the masses, including laborers and artisans, gathered and interacted. The British pub, an abbreviation for public house, exemplifies this. As someone who often works behind the bar, I frequently witness customers who seem to be getting along splendidly at the table next to me turn out to be meeting for the very first time. It’s not just the alcohol that helps; the atmosphere itself eases people’s tension, fostering connections that wouldn’t happen elsewhere. I see potential in expanding this bar space and passing it on to the future as a universal semi-public space (public house).
Looking ahead for 〈Ogikubo Bar〉, we envision renovating the bar piece by piece, in phases: Phase 1, Phase 2, Phase 3… The primary reason, as mentioned earlier, is to avoid changing everything at once and to minimize construction-related closure periods. Additionally, it aims to let visitors experience the joy of creation, the pleasure of witnessing the process, and the delight of being present during the making.

A door is a surface. However, the Blue Door is a surface with depth. Simultaneously, it functions as an autonomous architectural entity possessing its own distinct character, independent of the surrounding interior and exterior spaces. Every part, no matter how small, exists with its own individuality, and there is a whole that manifests only in that moment. Just as disparate parts gradually form a whole without losing their individuality, one person’s applied decoration allows another to discover meaning gradually. By not treating completion as the goal, but instead making the ongoing process itself the architecture, may this not pioneer new forms for tomorrow?
(Mumu Tashiro)

Location: 4-12-13 Ogikubo, Suginami-ku, Tokyo, Japan
Principal use: Bar
Client: Individual
Completion: 2024

Architects: Ateliers Mumu Tashiro
Design team: Mumu Tashiro
Construction: Create A

Photographs: SOBAJIMA Toshihiro

Construction type: Renovation
Design term: 2024.04-2024.09
Construction term: 2024.10-2024.10