YOYOGI PARK

We first encountered the sophisticated structures built by Japan’s UNHOUSED independently in Kyoto and Osaka at different points in 2000, years before our collaboration began. At the time, we were both struck not only by the architecture of these structures, but also by their presence in these major Japanese cities; they were visible yet obscured, an unacknowledged but undeniable reality befalling mainly underemployed laborers and their families in Japanese metropolitan areas.

The fastidious structures of Japan’s UNHOUSED occupy riverbanks and public parks in cities across Japan, with the largest concentrations in Osaka, Tokyo, and Kyoto. It is also common to see people sleeping on the streets. These structures have become the subject of artists’ books, projects and tourist photos, yet the core issues impacting their existence are still not widely discussed in Japanese society.

Among Japan’s UNHOUSED are also people who have chosen not to pursue the “society life” of slaving away at a salaried job, as is the case with one of the people we met in Tokyo’s Yoyogi Park during a visit in summer 2006. The report below is from that visit, where we learned of the particularities facing Yoyogi’s squatter encampments with the help of Japanese housing and homelessness scholar Aya Miyoshi.


Two years ago there were approximately 350 people living in encampments in Tokyo’s Yoyogi Park, a large recreational green space on the edge of the Harajuku shopping district. Dwellings like the ones pictured here are quite typical throughout Japanese cities. They have proliferated during Japan’s long recession. We have documented similar structures in Osaka and Kyoto.


Over the years, the residents of Yoyogi Park developed what one resident described as, “a really good neighborhood” cooking communal meals, planting small gardens, and gathering for activities like weekly drawing classes.


Two years ago, the municipal government began a campaign – most likely related to Tokyo’s bid to host the 2016 Olympic Games – to clear out the encampments in five of Tokyo’s parks and move people into rent-assisted apartments. Yoyogi is one of these parks. Some of the formerly “homeless” men who have taken the apartments now work in the park clearing away other people’s dwellings.


The municipal government has become increasingly aggressive about clearing out the dwellings. Recently they began putting up ropes and signs that say “building dwellings is forbidden” wherever they clear out an encampment. They also plant trees and pile up mounds of dirt to make it difficult for people to put up new structures.


Walking through these areas with ropes and signs, dirt piles and small shrubs it feels a bit like a graveyard. You get the strong sense that people used to live here. Some people still do. Their homes are scattered around, but there are many more ropes than dwellings.


Only 60 people still have semi-permanent dwellings in the park. Some didn’t want to move to apartments. Others couldn’t afford it. Residents said that the government’s next campaign is to concentrate all the dwellings in one area. No one is quite sure what will happen now that the apartment program is closed and the governor has announced plans to build a 100,000-seat stadium in the park for the 2016 Summer Games. The drawing classes continue on Tuesday afternoons.

Periodically, UNHOUSED will present our own site reports about a variety of struggles for adequate housing. This one was completed in 2006 and focuses on Christiania in the middle of Copenhagen, Denmark.

CHRISTIANIA

Christiania is a self-organized “Free Town” located on over 80 acres of land in the center of Copenhagen. “Free” from the culture outside, it boasts its own restaurants, bars, music clubs, bike shops, a bakery, horse stables, a recycling center, and more. Christiania is car-free and one of the last remaining affordable places to live in Copenhagen.

Christiania started with exuberance and optimism, inspired largely by the youth movement of the late 60s and an earlier squatter movement in Christianshavn [Christian’s Harbor]. A visitor’s guide to Christiana from 1999 tells the remarkable story that the town started, in part, because a handful of people participated in an art exhibition called Noget for Noget [Something for Something] that greatly inspired them. The magazine that served as the exhibition catalog included many proposals for what to do with the abandoned military base in Christianshavn. One proposal to squat the barracks prompted people to break through the walls of and occupy them in 1969. It was then that, “a massive immigration of people from all sectors of society…came to create an alternative life based on communalism and freedom.” This spirit gave birth to Christiania, which was formally “settled” in 1971.

Danish governments have attempted to normalize Christiania several times since its inception. Its future is increasingly uncertain; the most recent attempts to reintegrate Christiania into the rest of Copenhagen have been more prolonged and sustained than any other. Christiania was a victory for the Left in the culture wars of the 60s and 70s. Now that the Right is in power, there is a symbolic battle over the use of that land with talk of building market-rate housing or restoring the waterfront areas to their 19th century condition.


Stepping off the streets of Copenhagen and into the free town of Christiania, one feels a distinct ideological shift. This is one of several entrances to Christiania: an elaborate, carved wooden gateway. As you enter, you see the name of the free town; as you leave, it says, “Welcome to the EU.”


The free town of Christiania has existed since 1971 on over 80 acres of a former military base in the middle of Copenhagen, a city of one million people. Nearly 1000 people live in Christiania at the afford-able rate of 1000 Kroner ($178) per month. Housing cost estimates for the city at large hover around 3500 Kroner ($625) per person per month. The map shows old medieval ramparts and moat that make up a huge portion of the village.


There are many experimental homes in Christiania. This one is made from a variety of re-used materials. Buildings range from makeshift huts to elaborate constructions with green roofs. Because of the lack of zoning restrictions, architects from other cities in Europe have come to Christiania to try out new techniques and experiment with styles. On a walk around the neighborhoods, one finds round houses, geometrical houses, and even a house shaped like a spaceship.


Christiania has its own local postal system and stamps for sending mail within the community. To send mail beyond its limits one has to use local stamps and Danish stamps. In addition to their own postal system, other municipal functions of Christiania are entirely self-governed, such as trash collection, building and public space maintenance, kindergartens, and youth clubs. Issues are resolved and decisions made through “consensus democracy.” There are Common Meetings where all residents are invited to attend as well as monthly local meetings in each of the 15 regions of Christiania.


This image shows a public information and clothing re-circulation area. There are numerous free exchange sites where people can leave items they no longer want or need and pick up things discarded by others instead of throwing them away.


Until very recently, Christiania is one of the only places where this kind of building could exist; there is very little open space in Copenhagen, so building regulations make it nearly impossible to put up a small single-story dwelling of this sort within the city limits.