While adaptive reuse has been increasingly acknowledged as a vital architectural strategy worldwide, its discourse and implementation in Asia are still expanding—driven by growing ecological awareness and a shifting understanding of architectural knowledge. Rather than accelerating a developmentalist model centered on demolition and new construction, architects today are confronted with a different approach to the built environment: treating the existing structure as a resource—an archive of materials, spatial organizations, and informal histories.

Adaptive reuse is often associated with the preservation of historic buildings and culturally significant heritage. Yet the vast field of seemingly 'less-valued' structures—abandoned houses, standard yet old dwellings, non-conforming office buildings, and overlooked urban voids—has become ground for experimentation. These sites challenge architects and designers to reconsider prevailing standards of efficiency and market-driven development, and to imagine spatial and ecological practices that avoid the continual loss of embodied material and cultural knowledge inherent in constant rebuilding.

+ 29

Japan, one of the places known for its high longevity, is critically facing a demographic shift. As the aging population continues to grow, so too does the demand for thoughtful, well-designed spaces that support elderly care. Traditionally, caregiving was woven into the fabric of family life, often falling on the shoulders of female members in a patriarchal society. However, as a traditional big family structure largely dissolves and the nuclear family becomes the norm, elder care increasingly relies on social welfare services and specialized facilities.

This situation presents a profound, growing architectural challenge: How can care environments not only accommodate medical and nursing needs but also foster individual dignity, comfort, and human and nonhuman interactions? The ideal design of elderly care facilities balances clinical functionality with the nuances of daily life—for the elderly themselves, for those experiencing challenges and difficulties such as dementia, for their families, and for the caregivers who support them.

+ 17

"If buildings could speak," as a filmmaker once mused, then Osaka's cityscape might sound loud, vibrant, and slightly rough around the edges—yet somehow neatly composed. Much like the city itself, the architectural landscape reflects Osaka's distinctive character: layered, dynamic, and full of messy vibrancy. With a population of 2.7 million and growing, this dense urban center continues to evolve in its idiosyncratic way.