The infamous Nakagin Capsule Tower has mesmerized architects, designers, and architecture enthusiasts for decades. Whether you're a fan of Japanese Metabolist architecture or not, many continue to share a fondness and adoration towards the mixed-use residential and office tower designed by Kisho Kurokawa in 1972.

Archinect's brief coverage of the tower and talk of its demolition in 2005 was a glimpse into the now sixteen-year discussion and debate regarding the fate of the Nakagin Capsule Tower. Recently, a report from the Tokyo Reporter shared the latest details regarding what is to come of Tokyo's well-known metabolism tower. According to the Tokyo-based news outlet," the management association for the tower has decided to sell it. The move clouds the future of the structure, which could be headed for demolition [...] A preservation push has been ongoing. But the management association for the building, which consists of capsule owners, voted to sell the building to the landowner earlier this year."

Since the initial announcement of the tower's plans for demolition, the architecture community was quick to share their thoughts and what should be done to preserve the iconic building. Many were and still are in favor of saving it with petitions and proposals for a preservation push yet, "the management association for the building, which consists of capsule owners, voted to sell the building to the landowner earlier this year," reports the Tokyo Reporter.

The two-tower structure consists of 140 stacked cubes made of concrete and steel. In an editorial piece by Sanae Sato of Wallpaper in January 2020, around 100 of the capsules were in current use either as residences or office/creative spaces. Yet, the remaining 40 "are abandoned and lie in ruins," shared Sato. With each capsule measuring ten square meters, interiors have aged. While some inhabited capsules have been maintained, the need for large-scale repairs is the primary argument for its demolition. 

Living in the Long Forgotten Future - Directed by Kevin Tadge (2016)

In 2016, Archinect reported on a short documentary called "Living in the Long Forgotten Future." Directed by Kevin Tadge, the two-minute and six-second short was filmed in 2016 during Tadge's visit to Japan. Within the mini-film, Tadge's footage provides a glimpse at the realities of the tower's condition and overall state. Exploring the tower with his partner Laura Lamp, the building's tantalizing exterior, while rundown, still entices visitors. Yet, during his planned stay within the tower, Tadge had mistakenly booked an unrenovated room which resulted in him and his partner in an aged capsule. While they explored and investigated the tower's inner workings, they noticed the much-needed repairs and issues of the building. 

At the 00:38 mark, the narrator shared, "some units had slammed together during an earthquake leading to a net being trapped over the entire building." Yet it's this comment that the narrator shares that perhaps encapsulates how this revered piece of architectural history is just a mere visual reminder whose structural function for living and interior use has finally run its course. After deciding their rented capsule wasn't ideal for spending the night they "immediately went to the nearest hotel where we traded a modernist landmark for a faux modern, complete with Rothco knockoff and Eero Saarinen-esqe furniture." The following day they returned to their rented capsule unit only to find that "things didn't seem so bad in the light. The apartment was compact and efficient though the appliances were showing their age."

Marie Doezema's 2019 CityLab piece addressed how the iconic structure would fare during the then-planned Tokyo Summer Olympics and Paralympics slated for 2020. She reminds us, "Kurokawa intended for the tiny capsules, which measure about 100 square feet, to be replaced as needed, allowing for a perpetual renewal of the building. But more than four decades later, none of the capsules has been replaced, and the building is increasingly decrepit."

If we are to reflect on the ideas of Metabolism, this post-war architectural movement focused on the ideals of perceiving buildings as regenerative structures versus static structures. Yet, despite the lofty Metabolism manifesto published in 1960 at the World Design Conference the Nakagin Capsule Tower, the most recognized and representative of this movement was a lost attempt at upholding the structure's intention for adaptability and utopian ideals. As the narrator of Tadge's film expresses ever so eloquently, "maybe nowhere else is the gap between the utopian 1960s and 70s dream of the future and the reality of life in the 21st century as acutely felt as right here."