The Design Landscape of the 1980s Encapsulated Within a Sushi Bar
The Kiyotomo sushi bar stands sentry in Tokyo’s Shinbashi district. M+, Hong Kong. Purchase with partial gift of Richard Schlagman, 2014, © Kuramata Design Office
That the Kiyotomo sushi bar, now installed at M+, was able to be preserved and put on exhibition was purely a stroke of serendipity.
Its designer Kuramata Shiro died suddenly in 1991, at the age of 56, as he reached the peak of his design career. Kuramata was best known for his furniture designs, examples of which include Miss Blanche and Lamp (Oba-Q), both are part of the M+ collections. But he also designed many interiors, including the store in Tokyo for fashion designer Issey Miyake, who recently passed away, and the ESPRIT flagship store on Hing Fat Street in Causeway Bay, Hong Kong. Do the young people who visited the Hing Fat Street ESPRIT in the 1980s still remember what it looked like?
. . . the lifecycle of retail interior design is as short as a mayfly’s, and Kiyotomo sushi bar’s preservation is an exception.
The turnover rate of retail stores is high, and interior fit-outs often change. As a result, while much of Kuramata’s furniture has been preserved, most of his interiors have disappeared. The Kiyotomo sushi bar is a rare exception.
Curators, conservators, and artisans recall the challenges and surprises of shepherding an entire building from Tokyo to Hong Kong
Video Transcript
RICHARD SCHLAGMAN: Once you walk into Kiyotomo, you know instantly that it could only be by Kuramata. It's really him working at the height of his powers. It's his language through and through.
IKKO YOKOYAMA: Kuramata's furniture works are more known internationally with his Memphis [Group] work and other products. He designed over 350 interior works, but [just] a handful of them is left.
ARIC CHEN: Kuramata was a designer that really brought notions of form and formlessness, lightness, transparency, objects that had an absence and a presence, objects as keepers of memories and tellers of stories. He was one of the designers that brought these ideas into design globally, starting in the ‘60s through the ‘80s.
DORYUN CHONG: It was very clear from the beginning that Kiyotomo sushi bar is a one-of-a-kind, remaining architectural example that would really be that very important piece in the foundation of the M+ Collections.
IKKO YOKOYAMA: Kiyotomo is [Kuramata’s] late work, designed in 1988. It is quite different than other spaces, which are more dreamy; the Kiyotomo is more subdued. He's using stone and wood and more natural material in order to create a more theatrical dining experience.
IGARASHI HISAE: [Japanese] Kiyotomo only opened in the evenings; there was no lunch service. The streets around Kiyotomo were dimly lit. Its entrance was a narrow, dark channel, until you slid the door open. Kuramata was trying to contrast the darkness with the light.
MIHOYA TOMOHIKO: [Japanese] Kuramata always showed a Japanese identity. Also, he loved magic. He would create illusions that people called ‘Kuramata's magic’. For instance, with its size, the restroom door could almost hit people between the eyes. He was mischievous and always surprised people.
RICHARD SCHLAGMAN: The original owner had got himself into financial difficulties after the Japanese [economic] bubble burst, and the landlord repossessed the property. I kind of had an impulsive reaction to say that I wanted to take over these premises even though I had no idea at that point at all what I could possibly do with it. And I eventually came across M+.
IKKO YOKOYAMA: Ishimaru was a contractor who built the sushi bar in 1988. Ishimaru has built and realised many of Kuramata's interior spaces.
KATSUMATA SHINICHI: [Japanese] When I first saw the plans . . . I thought, this was something unusual, even for Kuramata. It’s difficult to put into words, but it felt like suddenly stepping into a kind of wa, or Japanese sense of harmony. There is an impression of soft floating—that's what characterises Kuramata's design for this bar. Then, [Ingo Maurer’s] YaYaHo lights swam across the space. I think this is a delicate balance.
ISOZAKI ARATA: Carpenters never had the experience for this kind of joint. Every time, he had to design by himself every detail. Very carefully, he did work to eliminate traditional types of joint systems, or combined systems.
SHIMAZAKI HIROYUKI: [Japanese] It's definitely like he's setting up a challenge for us. All the craftsmen here experience that pleasure when we can respond to those challenges, like: ‘I did it! This time at least .’
YAMASHITA KIZAE: [Japanese] One of the most difficult tasks is dismantling the counter. The counter was constructed by gluing and pressing the stone onto a long, metal sheet lining that runs along the length of the counter. We will have to remove the glue from the stone slowly and with great care. Otherwise, the stone will crack.
IKKO YOKOYAMA: Two and a half years ago, we identified this as the moment, because we are ready to open a museum, ready to install the Kiyotomo sushi bar.
KATSUMATA SHINICHI: [Japanese] The first time, we had the stone skirting boards, then we built the framework and attached the wood panelling. But this time, we built the foundation first, attached the panels, and then the stone came. The process was completely backwards. I think that was the most difficult part.
IKKO YOKOYAMA: There is another key person who made this project possible: Sara Moy. She was M+’s first conservator.
SARA A. MOY: Well, I began the project in 2014 when the sushi bar was acquired. I had worked intermittently on it until we were leading up to its installation. Conservation work is detective work. You're always investigating how something is made. And that's how you learn about that particular material or that—or what's happening. There's some sort of history behind it.
IKKO YOKOYAMA: For example, in the entrance, there's a blue coloured wall; we found these three layers of different blue [paint]. I think Kuramata, he didn't like the first blue. He has changed the design while he's installing, and this type of discovery very rarely happens.
SHIMAZAKI HIROYUKI: [Japanese] Until yesterday, we had those blue tarpaulin sheets laid out. But after removing them and seeing that a piece of art was standing on top of the museum floor, I was quite surprised to find there was something quite emotional about it. Well, it feels like it's completed.
KATSUMATA SHINICHI: [Japanese] When I installed the wall panels from the beginning to the end, I was able to keep exactly a two millimetre gap around them. I think this has to be some kind of miracle. Yes. It's like Kuramata himself came down from heaven [to support us].
SUHANYA RAFFEL: I think of the museum as a place of nourishing the soul, the mind, learning. If people take away the idea that everyday experience is also very special, we're offering avenues for people to consider their relationships with objects—everyday objects, everyday experiences—but also design and architecture experiences.
A young chef opened this sushi bar in 1988. The customers were primarily designers and high-end corporate executives with considerable spending power. In the early 1990s, when the Japanese economic bubble burst, the young chef fell into financial trouble. Thus, the sushi bar closed down. For many years, the landlord did not lease out the space. Finally, in 2004 the owner of a British publishing house bought the sushi bar and made plans to reopen it, but no such plan came to fruition. It was subsequently left vacant, with the furnishings, utensils, and all other items frozen in time, intact, like fossils set into stone. Another ten years passed before the newly established M+ learned that this interior design work by Kuramata existed. M+ decided to dismantle the sushi bar and transport it to Hong Kong for reconstruction.
Artisans from Ishimaru Co. Ltd.—one of Kuramata’s long-time collaborators—carefully dismantle and reinstall the sushi bar, piece by piece, in the East Galleries of M+
Craftsman Katsumata Shinichi remarked: ‘When I installed the wall panels from the beginning to the end, I could keep exactly a two-millimetre gap around them. I think this has to be some kind of miracle. Yes. It’s like Kuramata himself came down from heaven [to support us].’
Conservator Sara Moy began work on the sushi bar project in 2014 when M+ first acquired it
Artisans install the curved panelling of the sushi bar’s ceiling
‘Conservation work is detective work. You’re always investigating how something is made,’ reflects Sara Moy, the project’s lead conservator. ‘And that’s how you learn about that particular material or what’s happening. There’s some history behind it.’
Artisans from Ishimaru Co. Ltd.—one of Kuramata’s long-time collaborators—carefully dismantle and reinstall the sushi bar, piece by piece, in the East Galleries of M+
Craftsman Katsumata Shinichi remarked: ‘When I installed the wall panels from the beginning to the end, I could keep exactly a two-millimetre gap around them. I think this has to be some kind of miracle. Yes. It’s like Kuramata himself came down from heaven [to support us].’
Conservator Sara Moy began work on the sushi bar project in 2014 when M+ first acquired it
Artisans install the curved panelling of the sushi bar’s ceiling
‘Conservation work is detective work. You’re always investigating how something is made,’ reflects Sara Moy, the project’s lead conservator. ‘And that’s how you learn about that particular material or what’s happening. There’s some history behind it.’
The sushi bar was located in a building in Tokyo’s Shinbashi business district. A curved blue wall slices through the dark grey exterior, leading to a hidden entrance. Lift the ‘noren’ (curtain), and a long space appears, wrapped in warm cedar wall panels and floored in granite. Look closely at the gaps between the cedar planks on the wall and notice that they are all accurate to within three millimetres. This comes from a Japanese proverb that expresses perfection: ‘Not one “bu” (unit) of a gap’. One ‘bu’ is the old Japanese unit for measuring length, equivalent to three millimetres. Kuramata set the gap between the wall panels perfectly to within one ‘bu’.
The interior of the Kiyotomo sushi bar. Says curator Ikko Yokoyama: ‘Kiyotomo is [Kuramata’s] late work, designed in 1988. It is quite different from his other spaces, which are more dreamy; Kiyotomo is more subdued. He’s using stone and wood and more natural material in order to create a more theatrical dining experience.’
A granite sushi counter and bar stools are to the right of the entrance. An overhead string of small YaYaHo lights designed by Ingo Maurer hangs on the thin steel wires, distributing even circles of light and shadow across the sushi counter. The centre of the room is divided by a glass barrier with a slight blue tinge. This is no ordinary glass but opal glass, a material popular in the 1980s that is no longer manufactured. The original piece was damaged when dismantled; the current divider was forged by putting together two pieces of glass that are thinner but made of the same material. They may be the only pieces of opal glass of the same kind left in the world.
The sushi bar’s cedar and backlit acrylic ceiling reflect on the dining table’s surface. ‘Kuramata always showed a Japanese identity. Also, he loved magic. He would create illusions that people called “Kuramata’s magic,”’ reflects Mihoya Tomohiko, chairman of Mohoya Glass Company Ltd
To the left is a long dining table, the surface of which reflects the curved lighting panels in the ceiling. The vaulted ceiling is asymmetrical, with one side of cedar planks and the other of backlit acrylic. The design of Kiyotomo Sushi Bar references traditional Japanese architecture in its layout and use of natural materials, leaving the whole space with a sense of gentleness and peacefulness. The contrast between bright and dark and light and heavy, the flow of lines, and the texture of objects, fully display Kuramata Shiro’s unique feeling for materials and forms. Previously, a typical Japanese sushi bar was simply a long wooden table with a variety of raw fish placed in glass cabinets and paper lanterns hanging from the ceiling. Kuramata’s clean and fluid design combining traditional and modern elements had never been seen before.
It is not uncommon for buildings to be preserved as historic sites for people to appreciate. Still, the lifecycle of retail interior design is as short as a mayfly’s, and Kiyotomo sushi bar’s preservation is an exception. Now, visitors who visit Kiyotomo sushi bar can see no customers or chef. Only the patrons’ business cards and dining bills saved in the drawer of the eatery owner’s private room serve as silent witnesses to the bustling scenes of the past. However, removed from its original purpose, one can admire the sushi bar as a massive designer item, a unique landscape created by a master of design.
The Chinese version of this article was originally published on 26 October 2022 in Ming Pao. It is presented here in edited and translated form. Originally authored by Lap-wai Lam, translated by Diane To, and edited by Kate Reilly.
Unless otherwise noted, all images: M+, Hong Kong. Museum purchase with partial gift of Richard Schlagman, 2014. Photo: Lok Cheng, M+, Hong Kong
Lap-wai Lam is Senior Editor at M+.