Architecture that Weaves Context
――Interview with Yusuke Oono of DOMINO ARCHITECTS (Part 1)
Architect Yusuke Oono (founder of DOMINO ARCHITECTS), who is working on the landscape design of the PAN Okinawa project with garden unit veig. We interviewed Mr. Oono, who has pursued an unconventional career for a Japanese architect, working at Carrilho da Graça Arquitectos in Lisbon and noiz, based in Tokyo and Taipei, about the ideas underlying his work. In the first part, we look back at his apprenticeship with two architects in Portugal and Italy, and at the intersection of science and design, tracing the formation of his unique architectural philosophy that distances itself from "capital-A Architecture."
Interviewer: PAN Okinawa Preparatory Office (Seiha Kurosawa, Able Zhang) / June 9, 2026

Avoiding "Capital-A Architecture"
——Looking at your work, Mr. Oono, it appears to be a complex practice that spans digital and analog, high-tech and low-tech, rather than what is typically imagined as "architecture" in Japanese. To start, simply put, what does "architecture" mean to you?
Oono: That's an incredibly difficult question (laughs). But what's certain is that I try my best not to be conscious of "capital-A Architecture." I try to blur manifestos and statements about "what architecture should be" as much as possible. Not using grand words, not carrying burdens, that's a comfortable stance for me.
For example, I don't often say, "I create sustainable architecture." For each project, there's an optimal approach, and grand terms like sustainability aren't objectives but are naturally woven into the fabric of the project. I believe there's a lot that can be achieved without using grand words.
MEGURO MARC HALL+STUDIO, designed by DOMINO ARCHITECTS. Photo by Gottingham.
On the other hand, what I value is "curiosity" and the new perspectives gained through my work. I really enjoy fieldwork and research, and I want to maintain a healthy reversal where projects exist for the sake of research, rather than research leading to creation.
When we talk about architecture, we tend to first think of objects like buildings and facilities, but in reality, it includes situations, environments, internal aspects, and society. Space itself has no shape; it refers to the "in-between" of objects. So, I believe it's better to call the entirety of such things "architecture." The climate and client demands are different every time, and the project's conditions change as it progresses. My ideal is to always approach architecture in a way that allows me to enjoy this entire process.
Encounter with Siza – Surprise within Environmental Integration
——Where did you cultivate that sense of "thinking about architecture within a flow"?
Oono: The architectural education I received at university primarily focused on practical training in "how to design buildings," and that's where I developed my linguistic and spatial vocabulary. However, the most decisive experience was my first apprenticeship in Portugal.
There's an architect named Álvaro Siza (*1), whom I still admire greatly. Originally, I saw his photo books in Japan and thought, "His abstract volumes are modern and cool." However, when I actually traveled to Portugal and visited his buildings, they were much more subdued than I had imagined. It was hard to find them; I was like, "Which one is Siza's?" (laughs). If you cropped a photo, his buildings looked completely different from vernacular Portuguese architecture, but in reality, they blended naturally with everything else. Yet, within that integration, there were subtle surprises and unexpected twists, expertly crafted, making just that corner shine amidst a messy context.
Museu de Arte Contemporânea de Serralves, designed by Álvaro Siza. Photo by Gabriel de Andrade Fernandes, via Wikipedia. Licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 2.0 Generic.
Siza is not the type to simply place what he wants to build in an empty space; I think he's very good at reading the atmosphere, always wandering around and taking walks (laughs). At the same time, he has a physicality that makes him think "I would do it this way," and his sketches of curved horses and women, which he draws for pleasure, blend with his architectural sketches, eventually becoming architectural perspectives. He doesn't absolutize a single building but carefully considers what kind of situation and environment it will create, and where the materials come from and go. It was completely different from the "design that provides correct answers to problems" I learned in university; I felt it was closer to an Eastern philosophy of environment.
When you consider architecture not as a single form but as a text woven with various contexts, it connects to many things. "This door is connected to the door of a nearby church," "this stone is from this area," "it's built to the scale of a monastery." The street axis, the direction of the wind, the direction of the sun—the feeling of these things gradually connecting is wonderful, and I've been greatly influenced by it.
Another interesting thing is that it's not all built from external aikido, but Siza's own curiosity and what he wants to do at the moment are well integrated. You can feel things like, "Ah, he's probably obsessed with Aalto right now," or "Maybe it's a period where he wants to use iron," or "Perhaps he wants to play with colors," and there's a very charming aspect to it. That balance is what I realized architecture might be, and that was one of the triggers.
*1 Álvaro Siza
Born in Matosinhos, Portugal in 1933, Siza is an architect who studied at the University of Porto and is known for his modernist architecture that delicately responds to topography and urban context. His representative works include the Leça da Palmeira swimming pools, the Boa Nova Tea House, and the Serralves Museum of Contemporary Art. He was awarded the Pritzker Prize in 1992.
Carlo Scarpa – Creating Space with Points
Oono: There's another architect, Carlo Scarpa (*2) from Italy. He's quite unusual, as most of his work consists of renovations or exhibition designs.
A famous example is the Castelvecchio Museum in Verona. It's a renovation that transformed a castle into a museum, but he hardly put up any new walls or changed rooms. Instead, he created the space solely through the manipulation of circulation and the design of fixtures—handrails on stairs, handles for sliding doors, and so on. He placed screen-like fixtures in front of the majestic stone walls to hang paintings, and tuned the different eras of sculptures by the color of the screens. Although detached from the original building, it creates a wonderful circulation as a museum, allowing visitors to focus on both paintings and sculptures. He observed the existing elements, recognized their potential, and then added necessary items point by point. Even though they are just points, they effectively create a space. It's space design based purely on layout and composition. He was also involved in the early designs for the Venice Biennale venue, which makes his approach very similar to creating art spaces.
Gavina Showroom in Bologna, designed by Carlo Scarpa. Photo by Fondo Paolo Monti, via Wikipedia. Licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International.
*2 Carlo Scarpa
Italian architect born in Venice in 1906 and passed away in 1978. With his design experience at the Venini glass workshop in Venice, he undertook many renovation and exhibition space designs utilizing artisanal details. His representative works include the renovation of the Castelvecchio Museum, the Querini Stampalia Foundation, and the Brion Cemetery.
——Did you see Castelvecchio when you were a student?
Oono: Back then, there were far more student backpackers than there are now. I traveled on a shoestring budget, staying in cheap inns and visiting as many buildings as possible. I saw Castelvecchio during that time, and although I couldn't articulate it then, I was simply moved.
——It sounds quite curatorial. You're someone who can handle scenography that usually involves collaboration between a curator and an architect, all by yourself.
Oono: That's right. Of course, I think he also worked with curators in practice, but I believe many people, including myself, are encouraged by Scarpa's presence. The fact that there's an architect who creates numerous masterpieces not through new construction, but by focusing on observation and adjustment in space-making. Scarpa also worked as a designer in a glass workshop for a period, and perhaps because of that experience, the design density of details like handles and handrails is incredibly high, giving everything the presence of a craft item. Gem-like details are placed throughout the space, creating it. That's why he's also connected to the context of craftsmanship, and he has many architect fans. Actually, I wrote papers on both of them. Scarpa was my graduation thesis, and Siza was my master's thesis. When I wrote those monographs, I feel like the seeds of the aesthetics of architecture that I'm drawn to were planted.
——Was there general interest in renovation back then?
Oono: No, not at all. The book "Renovation Studies" came out around 2003, and it contained a short text by Professor Furuya of Waseda about Castelvecchio. After returning to Japan, I read it and was finally able to articulate the charm of the building. At the time, "renovation" was a new word; everyone called it "kaishu" (repair/alteration) or "kaizo" (remodeling). Now, renovation is a common theme in university design assignments, but when I was a student, the social issues of existing stock were only just beginning to be discussed, and I don't think there were almost any renovation proposals for graduation projects.
Training at noiz—Between Science and Emotion
——After Lisbon, you also worked at noiz in Tokyo and Taipei, which recently handled Yoichi Ochiai's pavilion at the World Expo. Isn't that a rather unusual path?
Oono: While I love architecture, I also have a great passion for physics and natural science. At that time, noiz, which had just been established, was an office exploring the field known as algorithmic design and parametric design. When I was there, one of my jobs was to read papers and reproduce how natural forms are created through algorithms using modeling. I myself was interested in how snow crystals and leaf veins form, the patterns on dragonfly wings, and how patterns are created by the wind in the desert.
Gravity Fields, designed by noiz. Photo by Daici Ano, via noiz. Licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-Non Commercial-No Derivatives 4.0 International.
——It sounds like the world of Ukichiro Nakaya.
Oono: Indeed. I believe there is architecture that stands as a coexistence of science and emotion. I love the genre of scientific essays by people like Terada Torahiko, Makino Tomitaro, Nakaya Ukichiro, and Oka Kiyoshi, and I aspire to that way of perceiving the world. From Siza and Scarpa, I learned that there's an aesthetic of presence where "architecture appearing in an environment makes sense." From noiz, I learned how to objectively describe the laws and phenomena of the world, and the specific techniques and attitude required as a designer.
At noiz, while endlessly designing on CAD, I was constantly verifying how to translate that into physical matter. To materialize simulations without them ending as just simulations, you need comprehensive knowledge, such as how much wood bends under a certain pressure, or what thicknesses are commonly available. To produce complex shapes exactly as simulated, you often need to understand the behavior of building materials as matter, not just as symbols, and that was great training. "Between digital and analog" might be a cliché now, but back then, it was when people at the MIT Media Lab were just starting to talk about the world of bits and atoms, and I was witnessing the real-time intersection and separation of reality and the virtual. Most of the sites were in Taiwan, and I visited Taipei and Taichung almost once a month when it was busy. I also conducted workshops with architecture students there and made furniture.

——Like observing, reweaving context, connecting dots, and weaving architecture.
Oono: Yes, I do have that image. I really love that thought process itself, so there's a strong aspect of me using architecture to fully enjoy it.
(To be continued in the second part)