“Holes in the House”: Digging into domestic space to turn it into a process of living

© Fuminori Nousaku Architects I Holes in the House.

Holes in the House is a radical dwelling in the industrial district of Nishi-Ōi, Tokyo, transformed by architects Mio Tsuneyama and Fuminori Nousaku (Fuminori Nousaku Architects) into a living organism in constant evolution. The project emerged in the aftermath of the 2011 earthquake and tsunami, which deeply challenged a Japanese architectural culture traditionally oriented toward formal perfection. The two architects decided to purchase a thirty‑year‑old building with no real estate value, located in a declining area, and — crucially — not to demolish it. As Tsuneyama puts it, “This project is my personal mission to commit to a structure that is still usable.”

© Fuminori Nousaku Architects I Holes in the House.

Originally a typical mixed‑use building from the 1980s, the house was opened and hollowed out through a series of large cuts in the floors and façades. These openings carve out a continuous void from the ground floor to the roof, allowing light, air, and sound to circulate freely. The interior looks like a permanent construction site —dangling cables, layers of flooring, scattered objects — yet the space is surprisingly livable, welcoming, and full of life. Air flows, light shifts, the scent of soil from the plants mixes with the noise of the street. The effect is that of a Japanese country house transplanted into an industrial neighborhood.

© Fuminori Nousaku Architects I Holes in the House.

The choice not to rebuild but to transform stems from a critical reading of Japan’s “raze‑rebuild‑repeat” model, which routinely demolishes buildings after 20–30 years. Nishi‑Ōi, once a working‑class district tied to the Nikon factory, is now filled with empty, deteriorating structures no longer compliant with seismic regulations. In this context, the architects see the house as a laboratory for experimenting with a different way of living — one based on reuse, waste reduction, and the enhancement of existing resources: orientation, light, natural ventilation, connection with the street.

© Fuminori Nousaku Architects I Holes in the House.

The project extends outdoors as well. After the birth of their son, and amid the inflation and food insecurity of the 2020s, the couple decided to break the asphalt of the side street to expose the soil and grow food. They invited friends and neighbors to join in; someone even brought earthworms as a gift. The idea is that of an “urban wild ecology”, a form of urban ecology that reclaims the forgotten wildness of city life. As Tsuneyama says, “We want people to rediscover their own sense of wilderness and what it means to be human in the city.”

© Fuminori Nousaku Architects I Holes in the House.

Inside, the same philosophy guides every material choice. The tatami room was restored with mulberry paper and konnyaku paste — biodegradable materials; construction scraps are reused; rainwater is collected; the roof hosts solar panels and a small garden. It is an experiment in domestic self‑sufficiency carried out with minimal means and an almost ritual attention to resource management. The house emerges as a fragment of nature suspended in a sea of exhausted buildings.

© Fuminori Nousaku Architects I Holes in the House.

Architecture ceases to be a finished object and becomes a process in continuous evolution: a way of living that adapts to needs, resources, and possibilities as they arise. It is a powerful image — not the abstract promise of an ideal future, but the concrete proof that another way of living is possible, starting precisely from what is imperfect, incomplete, radically unfinished.

© Fuminori Nousaku Architects I Holes in the House.


Back to Top