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Kengo Kuma: My Life as an Architect in 25 Buildings
A personal tour of Tokyo’s architecture, as seen through the eyes of one of the world’s most acclaimed architects who is also designing the primary venue for the Tokyo Olympic games. Tokyo is Japan’s cultural and commercial epicenter, bursting with vibrancy and life. Its buildings, both historical and contemporary, are a direct reflection of its history and its people. Kengo Kuma was only ten years old when he found himself so inspired by Tokyo’s cityscape that he decided to become an architect. Here he tells the story of his career through twenty-five inspirational buildings in the city. Kuma’s passion is evident on every page, as well as his curiosity about construction methods and his wealth of knowledge about buildings around the world, making this a unique commentary on Tokyo’s dynamic architecture. Kengo My Life as an Architect is an intimate and truly inspiring book, revealing the beauty that exists in the world’s everyday spaces. 50 illustrations
128 pages, Hardcover
Published July 7, 2020
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Displaying 1 - 12 of 12 reviews
July 16, 2021
Maybe the jacket was still being finalised as my cover reads My Life as an Architect in Tokyo, so this is an insightful look, through the architects own eyes of his projects in the capital. Also missing in the description here is that this is translated by Polly Barton, which is noted in small text in the book's credits.
Although briefly outlining through his descriptions of his buildings, the book offers a partial overview of other big names in the world of modern Japanese architecture, and their some comparisons between Japanese architecture and non Japanese architecture. That said, perhaps due to its brevity the book is quite a light read, perhaps each of the buildings examined deserves a book in it's own right.
This is an informative book, although when things are described as cool or hipster ish, my attention begins to wane a little, and I begin to think of run down buildings, neglected spaces, but I guess this is an interesting insight into how the city is constantly morphing, I've got to read up on Sanya. Perhaps the pace the city is changing makes it difficult to document.
Although briefly outlining through his descriptions of his buildings, the book offers a partial overview of other big names in the world of modern Japanese architecture, and their some comparisons between Japanese architecture and non Japanese architecture. That said, perhaps due to its brevity the book is quite a light read, perhaps each of the buildings examined deserves a book in it's own right.
This is an informative book, although when things are described as cool or hipster ish, my attention begins to wane a little, and I begin to think of run down buildings, neglected spaces, but I guess this is an interesting insight into how the city is constantly morphing, I've got to read up on Sanya. Perhaps the pace the city is changing makes it difficult to document.
February 7, 2023
Took my time savoring this unique little book of Tokyo neighborhoods as seen through the eyes of Kengo Kuma. It’s an easy read as each chapter is based on a different neighborhood, each containing little anecdotes of his childhood, backstories of the area came about, other architects who worked on notable buildings there, sketches and black and white photos of his works to go with each chapter, and ultimately, why and how he designed each of the buildings to be the way it is.
June 8, 2022
Beautiful photos and sketches, Kuma has a brilliant understanding of the different areas in Tokyo and what makes them unique and special.
April 11, 2023
One star off cause working for his office felt kinda sus, but otherwise pretty nice urban and architectural overview of Tokyo’s neighbourhoods. Can’t deny that the man has an in-depth understanding of the city and its development.
September 18, 2026
I absolutely loved this book.
I have travelled to Tokyo countless times, and what I enjoyed most about My Life as an Architect in Tokyo is that it allowed me to travel through the city again, but this time through Kengo Kuma’s eyes. It is less a conventional architecture book than a personal journey through Tokyo, Japanese architecture, history, materials, neighbourhoods and the relationship between buildings and nature.
It is a very short book (roughly 120 pages) full of photographs, drawings and sketches, and I read it in just a couple of days. Once I started, I genuinely did not want to put it down. In fact, part of me was almost reluctant to finish it.
Kuma moves between his own buildings and the work of other architects to explain how Japan thinks about architecture and cities. One of the themes I found most interesting is how post-war Japan embraced concrete, modernism and Western architectural ideas, and how more recently there has been a renewed interest in traditional Japanese materials and techniques, particularly wood.
He also makes a fascinating point about how the idea of luxury in Tokyo has changed. In the 1980s, enormous towers and skyscrapers were symbols of economic power and ambition. Today, some of Tokyo’s most desirable neighbourhoods (Daikanyama, Nakameguro and others ) represent almost the opposite idea: lower buildings, horizontal spaces, beautiful materials, trees, walkability and a much more human scale.
Coming from a part of Asia where wealth is still often associated with living on the 50th floor of a skyscraper, I found this particularly interesting. Tokyo reminds you that real urban luxury can simply mean being able to walk everywhere, live close to the ground and have good streets, small shops, trees and life around you.
Another idea I loved is Kuma’s description of central Tokyo as being organised around a void: the Imperial Palace and the enormous green space surrounding it. Instead of the symbolic heart of the city being occupied by towers, it is largely empty. Kuma connects this to a broader Japanese sensitivity towards shadow, emptiness, negative space and what is deliberately left unoccupied.
The section about Meiji Jingu was another highlight. I had always assumed that its enormous forest was essentially natural. In reality, it was carefully planned and planted. One of the people involved, Seiroku Honda, had studied forestry in Germany, and the forest was designed while thinking about what it would look like 100 or even 200 years later. Today it feels ancient, yet it is in many ways a designed landscape.
Even the approach to the shrine is architectural: you do not simply walk in a straight line towards it. The path turns repeatedly as you move deeper into the trees, gradually separating you from the city and preparing you for the shrine. It is a wonderful example of one of the book’s central ideas: in Japanese architecture, nature is not decoration added around a building; it is often part of the architecture itself.
There are also many wonderful individual buildings and places: SunnyHills in Aoyama, which looks almost like a giant wooden basket; La Kagu; the Meiji Jingu Museum; the Nezu Museum; and the Olympic Stadium, where Kuma tried to keep the structure relatively low and integrate terraces, vegetation and circulation into the building rather than simply placing a gigantic object in the middle of the city.
He even explains small pieces of Tokyo that I had never really questioned before. The tiny, chaotic alleys full of izakayas in places such as Kichijoji, for example, are partly the result of rough post-war neighbourhoods that gradually evolved into some of the most atmospheric parts of the modern city.
Throughout the book, Kuma connects all of this with Japanese architectural history: ancient wooden temples, Westernisation, Frank Lloyd Wright’s fascination with Japan, Antonin Raymond, German influence, modernism and eventually the gradual rediscovery of a more distinctly Japanese architectural language.
Perhaps the best thing about the book is that it makes you realise how many details in Tokyo that seem accidental are anything but accidental: the way you approach a building, its height, where a tree appears, what you can see and what remains hidden, the route towards a shrine, the relationship between architecture and the street.
I was very tempted to give it five stars.
The only reason I did not is that I wanted more. The book is intentionally light and accessible, but many of its ideas could have been explored in much greater depth. I would also have loved more photographs, drawings, plans and architectural detail. Quite often Kuma introduces something fascinating and then moves on just when you want him to keep going.
But perhaps that is also part of its charm. It is short, extremely readable and leaves you wanting to explore.
If you love Japanese architecture, Tokyo, urbanism, or you are travelling to Japan (especially if you already know Tokyo and want to see it differently) I highly recommend it.
I am now going through every building and place mentioned in the book and adding them to a map for my next trip to Japan. That is probably the best compliment I can give it: it made me want to go back to Tokyo and look at the city all over again.
I have travelled to Tokyo countless times, and what I enjoyed most about My Life as an Architect in Tokyo is that it allowed me to travel through the city again, but this time through Kengo Kuma’s eyes. It is less a conventional architecture book than a personal journey through Tokyo, Japanese architecture, history, materials, neighbourhoods and the relationship between buildings and nature.
It is a very short book (roughly 120 pages) full of photographs, drawings and sketches, and I read it in just a couple of days. Once I started, I genuinely did not want to put it down. In fact, part of me was almost reluctant to finish it.
Kuma moves between his own buildings and the work of other architects to explain how Japan thinks about architecture and cities. One of the themes I found most interesting is how post-war Japan embraced concrete, modernism and Western architectural ideas, and how more recently there has been a renewed interest in traditional Japanese materials and techniques, particularly wood.
He also makes a fascinating point about how the idea of luxury in Tokyo has changed. In the 1980s, enormous towers and skyscrapers were symbols of economic power and ambition. Today, some of Tokyo’s most desirable neighbourhoods (Daikanyama, Nakameguro and others ) represent almost the opposite idea: lower buildings, horizontal spaces, beautiful materials, trees, walkability and a much more human scale.
Coming from a part of Asia where wealth is still often associated with living on the 50th floor of a skyscraper, I found this particularly interesting. Tokyo reminds you that real urban luxury can simply mean being able to walk everywhere, live close to the ground and have good streets, small shops, trees and life around you.
Another idea I loved is Kuma’s description of central Tokyo as being organised around a void: the Imperial Palace and the enormous green space surrounding it. Instead of the symbolic heart of the city being occupied by towers, it is largely empty. Kuma connects this to a broader Japanese sensitivity towards shadow, emptiness, negative space and what is deliberately left unoccupied.
The section about Meiji Jingu was another highlight. I had always assumed that its enormous forest was essentially natural. In reality, it was carefully planned and planted. One of the people involved, Seiroku Honda, had studied forestry in Germany, and the forest was designed while thinking about what it would look like 100 or even 200 years later. Today it feels ancient, yet it is in many ways a designed landscape.
Even the approach to the shrine is architectural: you do not simply walk in a straight line towards it. The path turns repeatedly as you move deeper into the trees, gradually separating you from the city and preparing you for the shrine. It is a wonderful example of one of the book’s central ideas: in Japanese architecture, nature is not decoration added around a building; it is often part of the architecture itself.
There are also many wonderful individual buildings and places: SunnyHills in Aoyama, which looks almost like a giant wooden basket; La Kagu; the Meiji Jingu Museum; the Nezu Museum; and the Olympic Stadium, where Kuma tried to keep the structure relatively low and integrate terraces, vegetation and circulation into the building rather than simply placing a gigantic object in the middle of the city.
He even explains small pieces of Tokyo that I had never really questioned before. The tiny, chaotic alleys full of izakayas in places such as Kichijoji, for example, are partly the result of rough post-war neighbourhoods that gradually evolved into some of the most atmospheric parts of the modern city.
Throughout the book, Kuma connects all of this with Japanese architectural history: ancient wooden temples, Westernisation, Frank Lloyd Wright’s fascination with Japan, Antonin Raymond, German influence, modernism and eventually the gradual rediscovery of a more distinctly Japanese architectural language.
Perhaps the best thing about the book is that it makes you realise how many details in Tokyo that seem accidental are anything but accidental: the way you approach a building, its height, where a tree appears, what you can see and what remains hidden, the route towards a shrine, the relationship between architecture and the street.
I was very tempted to give it five stars.
The only reason I did not is that I wanted more. The book is intentionally light and accessible, but many of its ideas could have been explored in much greater depth. I would also have loved more photographs, drawings, plans and architectural detail. Quite often Kuma introduces something fascinating and then moves on just when you want him to keep going.
But perhaps that is also part of its charm. It is short, extremely readable and leaves you wanting to explore.
If you love Japanese architecture, Tokyo, urbanism, or you are travelling to Japan (especially if you already know Tokyo and want to see it differently) I highly recommend it.
I am now going through every building and place mentioned in the book and adding them to a map for my next trip to Japan. That is probably the best compliment I can give it: it made me want to go back to Tokyo and look at the city all over again.
November 7, 2025
If a friend ever travels to Tokyo I will gift them this book as companionship to a city marvelous discovery.
Loved being taken on a tour of the buildings, the changing times they reflected, the people to which changed their daily lives.
With a mixture of pictures, architecture drafts, personal memories, literature, social and historical commentaries... the book truly felt a complete immersion into Tokyo's soul. A book to read while roaming in the streets.
Loved being taken on a tour of the buildings, the changing times they reflected, the people to which changed their daily lives.
With a mixture of pictures, architecture drafts, personal memories, literature, social and historical commentaries... the book truly felt a complete immersion into Tokyo's soul. A book to read while roaming in the streets.
September 25, 2022
日本的建筑和中国有着同样的源,但是日本建筑走向了现代化,非常震撼,不同于西方的建筑,有着亚洲文化独有的特色。
隈研吾的建筑理念和日本的文化,生活相互融合,很美。
可惜的是书本里的照片太少得一边看书一边找图
隈研吾的建筑理念和日本的文化,生活相互融合,很美。
可惜的是书本里的照片太少得一边看书一边找图
June 18, 2024
Must book to have when an architect visits tokyo and wants to walk along its neighborhoods and explore layered architectural history!
Read
January 15, 2026I think this would’ve been a great book if I knew Tokyo better, or Kengo Kuma’s work. Without the context of either, I don’t think I got the full experience. Would love to reread
June 5, 2025
I've always thought that buildings reveal a lot about the cities they're in. They speak of history, religion, and context. In this book, Kuma acts as a translator between the building and the reader. In only a few pages, he manages to provide rich context, sharing details about life in Tokyo, its history, and how architecture itself tells that story. He explains why his projects take the form they do, innovating with deep respect for the past, for both his ancestors and his surroundings, and he speaks with such admiration for the architects who came before him.
This book is a beautiful journey through the heart of Tokyo, guided by someone who truly knows how to listen to it.
This book is a beautiful journey through the heart of Tokyo, guided by someone who truly knows how to listen to it.
April 28, 2021
An intimate exploration of Tokyo through the eyes of the architect Kengo Kuma.
December 10, 2022
Less interesting as an architectural biography and more interesting as an architectural guide to Tokyo, a sort of mini-urban-ethnography.
Displaying 1 - 12 of 12 reviews










