RHToday you sound more radical. What happened?

TAI have a special attachment to the city of Kobe. I grew up there and conceived about 30 buildings in that area. After the devastating earthquake that killed thousands of people, I became suddenly aware how deeply architecture is rooted in our emotional lives. The disaster robbed people of their memories. Those memories were attached to schools, libraries, apartments, streets, and all kinds of structures. What I want to say is, that loss makes you become aware of your environment. You realize that it not only shapes your physical landscape but your mental world as well. The city is more than a pure functional arrangement; it is also a spiritual fabric for your memories. That’s why I started the Hyogo Green Network....

RH...with the goal to plant 250,000 trees.

TANot only buildings and streets have to be restored but also our collective memory. I asked myself, what could bring people together and heal their pain, what could make them aware that the city should grow together with nature? The answer is as simple as planting a tree. Many of them bloom every year with white blossoms in memory of the people who perished in the quake. The trees come from all over Japan. We put some of them into a nursery school first. We asked the construction companies to take care of little seedlings 　 they water them and raise them until the construction work is finished.

RHDo you collect things other than trees?

TANot in particular except books and color pencils.

RHMany architects today rely more on their computers than on their pencils.

TABalance is beauty. In my work I am always travelling between the creative imagination and practical, physical reality; between fiction and substance. At the same time I hope that I not only can solve problems, but can stay true to my ideals. As I said before, architecture reaches out into our emotional lives, creates implants in our memories.