Three Buildings Are Facing Their ‘Next’ at the Same Time

In Hiroshima City, three post-war buildings are standing at their respective crossroads almost simultaneously. Hijiyama Hall, designed by Kunio Maekawa, is holding its final public opening; the dormitory of the Radiation Effects Research Foundation (RERF) is closing its doors after nearly 70 years; and the former Army Clothing Depot is considering public tours.

Is this a coincidence? At first, I thought so. However, when examining the three together, a common structure emerges that cannot be dismissed as mere coincidence. “Who owns it, who uses it, and who preserves it?” Analyzing through the three axes of ownership, maintenance, and distance from citizens reveals that this is not merely a question about buildings, but rather a question of how the city of Hiroshima will carry its post-war history.

Hijiyama Hall: ‘A Building Cannot Be Preserved by the Designer’s Name Alone’

Hijiyama Hall was completed in 1953, designed by Kunio Maekawa, a leading figure in post-war Japanese modernist architecture. It served as a cultural hub for citizens during Hiroshima’s reconstruction period. The owner is the City of Hiroshima.

The final public opening held in the fall of 2023 attracted many citizens. However, no concrete plans for preservation have been presented at this stage. The building’s deterioration is advancing, and if serious renovations are needed, costs could reach hundreds of millions of yen. For the city, determining how much priority to place on this building amidst its financial constraints is undoubtedly a difficult decision.

I want to pause here to reflect on the precariousness of the argument that “it should be preserved because it is a building by Kunio Maekawa.” While the designer’s name may serve as a reason for preservation, it does not constitute a preservation mechanism. To preserve a building, there must be people who use it regularly, entities that bear the maintenance costs, and a continuous circuit that updates the meaning of that building’s existence. What is currently lacking for Hijiyama Hall is not the recognition of its value, but rather the mechanisms that support that value.

There is indeed a demand for preservation from citizens. However, there is a gap between the demand and the mechanisms. It is fundamentally the role of the administration to bridge this gap, but currently, specific preservation schemes—such as joint management with the private sector or utilizing subsidies through cultural asset designation—are not being discussed.

RERF Dormitory: When ‘Life Supporting Research’ Disappears

The RERF dormitory was where staff members of the institution researching the radiation effects of the atomic bomb spent their daily lives. Counting from the era of its predecessor, the Atomic Bomb Casualty Commission (ABCC), it has been around for about 70 years. Located on the hill of Hijiyama, this dormitory has held a unique position in Hiroshima’s post-war history.

RERF plans to relocate to near Hiroshima University’s Kasumi Campus in the 2025 fiscal year, which will lead to the closure of the dormitory. The owner is RERF, a public interest foundation co-funded by Japan and the United States, and the building is not directly involved with the City of Hiroshima or Hiroshima Prefecture. Here lies a structural difficulty that differs from Hijiyama Hall. Even if citizens voice their desire to “preserve it,” the ownership and decision-making entities are different.

The dormitory itself does not feature particularly noteworthy architectural design. However, the memories of the researchers who lived there—those who engaged in health surveys of atomic bomb survivors while leading their daily lives in Hiroshima—are the kind of memories that can only be preserved alongside the building. RERF has not yet clarified its specific plans for the use of the site after the move. There should be options for preserving records, saving parts of the building, or creating some mechanism to inherit those memories, but there seems to be little indication that discussions have begun.

One could say that there are “many sentimental voices.” However, what is being questioned here is whether that sentiment can be transformed into a mechanism.

Former Army Clothing Depot: Relationships Only Formed Through ‘Opening’

Among the three, the largest and oldest is the former Army Clothing Depot, a red brick warehouse complex built in 1913, located approximately 2.7 kilometers from the epicenter of the atomic bomb. It is one of the largest surviving buildings from that time. The owner is Hiroshima Prefecture (with some parts owned by the national government and private entities).

For a long time, discussions have revolved around “preservation or demolition,” but in 2020, Hiroshima Prefecture decided on a policy for preservation and utilization. Currently, safety measures, including seismic reinforcement, are underway. Recently, there have been movements to consider public tours during the construction period. The prefecture is also reportedly considering distributing some of the roof tiles removed during construction to citizens.

What is noteworthy is the significance of this decision to “open.” The Clothing Depot has previously restricted public access for safety reasons. For citizens, it has been a “building they know but cannot enter.” If tours are realized, a direct connection between the citizens and the building will finally be established. The seemingly modest initiative of distributing tiles could serve as a mechanism to create a relationship through the act of citizens “owning” a part of the building.

In the case of the Clothing Depot, the owner, the prefecture, has expressed a willingness to preserve it, and it is also designated as an important cultural property by the national government. Compared to Hijiyama Hall and the RERF dormitory, the institutional backing is the most solid. However, institutions alone cannot keep a building “alive.” It is only through use, visitation, and storytelling that a building can function as a memory device for the city. The consideration of public tours is the first step in opening that circuit.

What Becomes Visible When the Three Are Compared: The Structure of ‘Ownership,’ ‘Maintenance,’ and ‘Distance’

Here, let’s organize the three buildings along the axes of ownership, maintenance mechanisms, and distance from citizens.

Hijiyama Hall—The owner is the City of Hiroshima. The entity responsible for maintenance costs is clear, but there is no mechanism for utilization. There is citizen interest, but the circuit for involvement has not been designed.

RERF Dormitory—The owner is RERF (co-funded by Japan and the U.S.). The structure makes it difficult for citizens and local governments to intervene directly. There is a challenge of memory inheritance, but there is no one to take on that role.

Former Army Clothing Depot—The owner is Hiroshima Prefecture (with some parts owned by the national government and private entities). There is an institutional foundation due to cultural property designation and the prefecture’s preservation policy. It is currently at the stage of trying to bridge the distance with citizens through the consideration of public tours.

What is common among the three is that while the “value of the buildings” is recognized, the “relationships that support the buildings” have not been sufficiently established. The logic that they should be preserved because they have value is correct, but that alone will not ensure their survival. To preserve them, there needs to be a mechanism that repeatedly questions who will bear the maintenance costs, who will engage with them regularly, and what those buildings mean for “present-day Hiroshima.”

The Significance of ‘Moving Simultaneously’

The fact that these three are coincidentally facing crossroads at the same time has a background that goes beyond mere coincidence. Approximately 80 years after the war, the physical lifespan of the buildings, changes in the organizations managing them, and the fading memories due to generational shifts are all reaching critical points simultaneously.

Hiroshima is known worldwide as a “City of Memory.” However, memory does not remain simply by being left alone. The physical structures that have supported that memory are now all simultaneously reaching their limits. This is not just an issue for Hiroshima, but because it is Hiroshima, the choices made here carry significant weight.

What we should pay attention to going forward is the specific design of “who will engage with each building and through what mechanisms.” While citizen voices can serve as a starting point, they cannot be the end goal. The task of receiving those voices, transforming them into systems, and translating them into sustainable operations is what is currently most lacking.

The quiet foyer of Hijiyama Hall, the western sunlight streaming down the corridor of the RERF dormitory, and the lingering warmth in the red bricks of the Clothing Depot. The buildings remain silent, yet they are asking—how does this city intend to continue holding its time?