Shigeru Ban: Timber in Architecture
Edited by Laura Britton and Vittorio Lovato
Contributions by Shigeru Ban and Hermann Blumer
Rizzoli, 2022
If the title alone wasn’t enough, then the tactile, brown paper cover unequivocally announces the fact that wood is front and center in Shigeru Ban: Timber in Architecture. In this well-structured encapsulation of the many innovative timber buildings designed by 2014 Pritzker Prize laureate Shigeru Ban, editors Laura Britton and Vittorio Lovato—both of Shigeru Ban Architects (SBA)—delve into the inventiveness and collaborations that have allowed for unprecedented uses of wood joinery in contemporary architecture.
Appropriately, the book begins with an essay from Ban titled “Why Do I Love Wooden Architecture?” where he reveals his initial exposure to the lively material as a child, as well as his interactions with talented and dedicated local woodworkers and carpenters, experiences that shaped his interest in wood. Friendships and collaborations with German architect Frei Otto and Swiss engineer Hermann Blumer are mentioned by Ban and discussed in project narratives throughout the book. An essay by Blumer shares the formation of his kinship with Ban, which led to partnerships on more than 50 studies and projects since 2005.
Easing readers into the firm’s work, the project presentations begin with three intimate private residences ranging from 1,000 to 4,000 sf nicely presented on single spreads. The next 215 pages reveal 33 masterpieces from the team at SBA, with all projects but the first one listed, Furniture House 1, completed in the 21st century.
An often-revisited theme throughout the book is the necessity of Ban’s inventiveness to outsmart building codes. Since codes in many countries and localities traditionally do not allow for an entirely mass timber structure, Ban has had to devise new approaches to maximize wood in these projects. In Tamadic Nagoya, an eight-story office building in an urban context, cross-laminated timber (CLT) is incorporated as permanent formwork: once the poured concrete-floor slabs and column structure had cured, the CLT remained in place. This novel approach not only provides a materially warm interior and shortened the construction schedule, but more importantly, it eliminated sacrificial formwork from disposal, creating a more sustainable building. The implementation of both materials actually provides 30 to 60 percent more rigidity than just concrete columns alone. As described in the book, the building is more resilient due to better control of deflections under lateral loads from wind and earthquakes.
The success and significance of a project aren’t always marked by its innovation, though, as the relationship with its regional users and history are of parallel importance. In the northern Japanese city of Odate, Ban takes inspiration from the local steam-bending technique—magewappa, often used for bento boxes—and creates an appropriately playful interior for the young occupants of the Imai Hospital Daycare Center. In the same vein, the Aspen Art Museum, commended for its beautiful, woven wood and paper composite facade and its transparency, provides the only free and publicly accessible rooftop in a city known for exclusiveness and wealthy seasonal visitors.
Although Ban dictates both the design and structures of his work, his collaborations with the great minds of Frei Otto and Hermann Blumer are well documented to have furthered the possibilities of mass timber use in architecture. Ban first collaborated with Otto on the Japan Pavilion for Expo 2000 in Hannover. The partnership later inspired Ban’s woven, wood suspension structure at the Centre Pompidou-Metz in western France, which was actually his first collaboration with Blumer. One of Ban’s most notable works to date, Metz displays an intricate timber roof, which, as noted by the book’s editors, is “gridded in a two-dimensional pattern of hexagons and equilateral triangles [that is] inherently more rigid” than a more conventional orthogonal approach. They go on to explain that Ban’s unique grid for Metz “is also simpler than a triangular grid because only two members intersect per node” instead of three, revealing the impressive collaboration between the two designers.
The ethical and sustainable approach to mass timber use is clear for every project, which is imperative to educate readers on the many benefits of wood in construction practices. For example, the Swatch and Omega Campus uses a staggering 160,000 cubic feet of locally harvested timber, but as detailed in the book, “an impact analysis for the project showed that that amount of wood took only 10 hours to grow back in those same Swiss forests.” (The figure is based on the total annual growth of Swiss forests volumetrically.)
While discussing the book at the Center for Architecture in New York, Britton and Lovato noted that it is not a monograph but rather “an educational resource on timber design and construction” that is accomplished by “emphasizing the collaboration between architect, engineers, fabricators, and builders throughout.” Britton and Lovato do an exquisite job of expanding on timber terminology, aiding its accessibility towards a wider audience. The descriptions and differences between CLT, laminated veneer lumber (LVL), laminated strand lumber (LSL), and paper honeycomb plywood (PHP), among other timber products, are patiently explained in an absorbable and unprohibited manner. Similarly, project-specific isometric diagrams of intricate joineries between multiple timber members are graphically pleasing and legible, allowing for architects and nonarchitects alike to better comprehend the structural systems.
A minor detail that is immediately noticeable, however, is the weight of the pages within the book. While nearly all of the pages are appropriately thick and glossy, the two essays at the beginning are printed on a much thinner, standardized paper that feels terribly fragile in the context of the publication. Not devoid of photos, the essays retain an odd inconsistency with the rest of the book which begs questions surrounding their deviation.
Likewise, Ban’s famous paper tubes make appearances in many projects, but, sadly, they are only illustrated as interior applications. The omission of his paper tube structures designed for humanitarian crises is glaring. Ban established the Voluntary Architects’ Network (VAN) in 1995 to expand his practice beyond client-driven commissions and had first applied his paper tube construction methodology toward refugee housing in Rwanda the year prior. His extensive expertise in recyclable materials has provided readily deployable buildings for victims of disaster throughout the world, including in Christchurch, New Zealand, where the Cardboard Cathedral remains an integral building to the community. Because of Ban’s long history with humanitarianism, the omission of such crucial and necessary work distinguishing him from his peers is disappointing. The distinction between paper and timber, though, is perhaps a technicality that may have led to their omission. If that is the case, a sequel publication on the paper tube structures would be hearty and complementary.
Ban has said that he never wants to reuse an idea. While to the untrained eye it seems that his projects exhibit overbearing sameness, Shigeru Ban: Timber in Architecture reveals that that is not the case. Britton and Lovato have magnificently captured, in great depth, the unique design of each project, allowing them to stand independently of one another—enabling a highly successful publication and an enjoyable read.
Cole Von Feldt is a designer, photographer, and writer educated in Austin and Copenhagen and trained in New York and Houston. He currently lives and works in New York.