In Praise of Public Toilets
The Tokyo Toilet of Kazoo Sato (image: courtesy of Satoshi Nagare and The Nippon Foundation).
Food. Safety. Hospitality. Trains that run on time. Whenever I meet visitors around Tokyo, they invariably remark on the services and facilities that the city offers to meet our most basic needs. To my amusement, they also tend to mention the greatness of the public toilets here. We spoiled residents may take these restrooms for granted, but their abundance, cleanliness and design allow us to move about the city with ease, confident that there will always be a place to go when on the go.
In some ways, today’s Tokyo echoes the 1985 experimental project led by famed architect Toyo Ito: Pao I - Dwelling for Tokyo Nomad Woman. Working in conjunction with architect Kazuyo Sejima, Ito envisioned compact, tent-like residences that would provide basic shelter, while the city would then supply the infrastructure for the rest of our needs: eating, shopping, socialising, and so on. Minimal housing for the city had been discussed since the 1960s because of the intense densification of postwar Tokyo, with Kisho Kurokawa’s iconic (and recently demolished) Nakagin Capsule Tower,[1] for example, targeting the salarymen who would spend most of their time working at the office. Ito and Sejima’s ideas, meanwhile, were a response to new roles that opened up for Japanese women in the bubble economy of the 1980s, enabling more significant female participation in the workforce and, also, in consumption. This concept of delegating traditionally domestic functions to the city still resonates. After all, Tokyo is a metropolis of tiny apartments with even tinier kitchens, of a transport system that is known for its dense capillarity, of 24/7 convenience stores, of inviting bars and restaurants, of a leave- your-purse-on-the-table-to-secure-a-seat level of safety. Why stay home if you don’t have to?
The Tokyo Toilet of Masamichi Katayama (image: courtesy of Satoshi Nagare and The Nippon Foundation).
Easily accessible public toilets are an essential part of this urban fabric, and Tokyo has no shortage of them. A ranking released in January 2023 by QS Supplies, a UK-based bathroom fittings and accessories retailer, found that Paris allegedly boasts the highest number of public loos per square kilometre in the world, ranked among 69 of the world’s most popular destination cities. I confess that I was a bit shocked not to find Tokyo at the top of the list. Taking a closer look at the study, I noticed that Japan’s capital wasn’t even mentioned. Well, given that Tokyo, technically, is not a city – it’s a prefecture comprising 23 wards (or districts), each with its own city office – I searched for its most popular constituent “cities”, such as Shibuya, home of the famous “scramble” crossing, or Shinjuku, which features the world’s busiest train station. None were mentioned in the ranking. Considering that Osaka, Kyoto and Sapporo were all listed, Tokyo’s absence almost hurt my feelings. As such, I decided to crunch some numbers myself and see how it compares to the Parisian toilettes. Based on Navitime, Japan’s popular navigation app, there are 186 public toilets in the city of Shibuya, giving us an average of 12.3 bathrooms per square kilometre. If we broaden the search to Tokyo’s 23 wards, we still have a solid score of 8. According to the toilet study, the French capital has 6.72. Touché.
Those calculations don’t even include “off-street” toilets, as Clara Greed, a professor of urban planning at UWE Bristol, calls them. “‘Public toilets’ may be defined as comprising both traditional ‘on-street’, local authority public toilets,” she writes, “and ‘off-street’ toilets to which the public has right of access, for example in restaurants, shopping malls, and department stores, which, together, may be defined as ‘away from home toilets’.” In Japan, this second category covers train and subway stations, convenience stores, department stores, entertainment complexes, office buildings and so on. Their design varies from plain white walls, to marble countertops or New York-style tiling, but one can count on them being free of charge, safe and clean. Finding the flush button can be a challenge among the myriad functions of Japan’s famous “washlet” toilets: seat heating, spray intensity and direction, dryer, noise concealing, and emergency (this last one turned what should have been a quick and private relief in a Seven- Eleven into a rather embarrassing moment). Going to the restroom becomes an experience in itself.
The Tokyo Toilet of Fumihiko Mako (image: courtesy of Satoshi Nagare and The Nippon Foundation).
Yet not all the public restrooms in Tokyo have such a spotless reputation – a point acknowledged by The Tokyo Toilet (TTT) project. Launched in 2020 to coincide with the Olympics and Paralympics and completed in March 2023, the project set out to change perceptions that the city’s on-street toilets are dirty (kitanai), smelly (kusai), dark (kurai) and scary (kowai) – the four Ks. According to the Japan Toilet Association (yes, there is one!), this quartet of adjectives encapsulated the major concerns surrounding public loos in the 1980s, when the organisation was founded. Even if conditions have improved since then, some people would still use the four K-words to describe street toilets. Some would even add an extra K for “broken” – kowareteiru.
To execute its mission, non-profit The Nippon Foundation, in coordination with the city of Shibuya, commissioned 16 leading names from contemporary architecture and design, including some Pritzker Prize winners, to create 17 public toilets. A lavatory designed by Tadao Ando, mastermind of Naoshima’s Chichu Art Museum and many other concrete wonders? Yes please.
I had always been impressed with the quality of Tokyo’s off-street toilets, to the point of posting about them on my Instagram. But discovering lavatories on public streets and in parks designed by the crème de la crème of Japanese architecture sparked deeper contemplation of urban planning – and prompted so much Instagram content that a follower called me a “toilet sommelier”. Ando, Ito, Shigeru Ban, Fumihiko Maki, Kengo Kuma, Sou Fujimoto, and cutting-edge designers and artists such as Nigo, Nao Tamura and Tomohito Ushiro all agreed to be part of the TTT project. These creators had to follow three basic conditions: 1) comply with laws and standards set by the government; 2) collaborate with Japan’s luxurious washlet manufacturer TOTO; and 3) include at least one universally accessible toilet stall. In fact, creating facilities that could be used by anyone – regardless of their age, gender or disabilities – was the core objective for Koji Yanai, who is both the driving force behind the TTT project and group senior executive officer at Fast Retailing, the Japanese apparel giant known for the Uniqlo empire.
The Tokyo Toilet of Kashiwa Sato (image: courtesy of Satoshi Nagare and The Nippon Foundation).
Inspired by a promotional video made for the Paralympics in Rio 2016, Yanai had an early notion to develop a place that could only be used by people with disabilities. His idea was to make something so beautiful that everyone else would be envious. But he recalled a lesson from his father, Tadashi Yanai, Uniqlo’s founder: “Specialness is nice to have, but what’s more important is being made for all.” What, then, could be used by all? No matter where we are from, how much money we have, how old we are, or what we believe, each and every one of us must answer nature’s call.
Curious to see what such a stellar team of creators would do with this unusual toilet mission, I’ve been criss-crossing the Shibuya district to check them out.
Like many of his buildings, Ando’s contribution to the project draws on traditional elements of Japanese architecture. Consider the engawa, a covered porch or veranda that surrounds a house, usually facing a yard. It can also be a passageway that allows a smooth transition between inside and outside. For his toilet, located in a small park by a busy road, Ando created a circular floor plan, with an outer area that simulates an engawa. The universal stall is at the centre, offering easy access. Going to the rooms for men or women requires taking a few extra steps through a round inner corridor, protected by a cylindrical wall of vertical louvres that let in some light and air.
Ando is a master at choreographing how people will access his structures. At UNESCO’s headquarters in Paris, the Pritzker Prize winner built a long pathway leading to a meditation space. This spatial gesture is intended to give visitors time to prepare themselves spiritually before arriving in the meditation room itself. Could public toilets be compared to mediation spaces?
The Tokyo Toilet of Shigeru Ban (image: courtesy of Satoshi Nagare and The Nippon Foundation).
One of the most important names of modern Japanese literature had some notes on the matter. In his classic essay In Praise of Shadows, Junichiro Tanizaki stated that the traditional Japanese toilet – essentially an outhouse – “truly is a place of spiritual repose.” He described it as the “perfect place” to listen to songbirds and chirping insects, or to gaze at the moon while going about one’s business. Ando’s toilet stall does have a small skylight that allows some natural light in, albeit without a view of the moon.
Natural light is key in another Pritzker laureate’s TTT creation. Fumihiko Maki has designed an airy white structure in a public playground that is known as the Octopus Park because of the shape of its slide. In keeping with the mollusc theme, Maki created a wavy roof, reminiscent of a squid. The independent men’s, women’s and universal booths are displayed in an organic layout, surrounding an open inner courtyard with a tree in the middle. The layout almost encourages us to look at the other “rooms” (if, of course, the idea didn’t sound creepy). It’s certainly an invitation for passersby to sit down and rest on the bench attached to the construction – challenging the conventional notion of how public toilets fit into public spaces. Near the sinks, a semi-transparent wall keeps the room bright, while affording users some privacy.
Privacy, however, is not a priority when it comes to men’s urinals. Not only in some TTT creations, such as Ando’s or creative director Kazoo Sato’s, but many older public urinals in Japan don’t have doors. This can lead to a too-much-information situation for anyone who happens to look the wrong way when walking by, but is actually considered a way to make the cabins safer because users can easily check whether there are any shady characters already inside. Koo Ue, a former chairman of the Japan Toilet Association, told The Japan Times in 2006 that “public toilets have an open design because Japanese want to be able to see inside before entering”. Plus, using fewer construction materials means a lower building cost.
The Tokyo Toilet of Nao Tamura (image: courtesy of Satoshi Nagare and The Nippon Foundation).
Compared to other public toilets in Shibuya, TTT facilities receive special treatment in terms of the cleaning routine. There are two companies involved in the maintenance. One is in charge of the regular cleaning cycles, while the other is a consulting agency that inspects the facilities once a month to check for possible defects, odours, stains and ventilation issues. The toilets go through a dry clean two or three times a day, plus a monthly wet cleaning session. An additional annual cleansing covers the ventilation fans and the exterior walls.
Besides this more frequent cleaning and the support of the inspection company, another aspect of the maintenance is unique: staff members wear a special uniform. Designed by Nigo, artistic director at Kenzo, the stylish blue jumpsuits carry the name of the project on their back in bold white letters. On its website, the TTT mentions that workers have reported that wearing the uniform has led to more interaction with users, who approach them to say thanks, or even to offer drinks and snacks. In Japanese society, where we usually stay out of other people’s business – it still surprises me how common it is not to greet a neighbour in the elevator – this means a lot. It’s worth mentioning that the protagonist in Wim Wenders’s new film Perfect Days, which premiered at this year’s Cannes festival and was produced by Koji Yanai as part of the TTT promotional efforts, is a cleaner of the Shibuya toilets.
The Tokyo Toilet of Kengo Kuma (image: courtesy of Satoshi Nagare and The Nippon Foundation).
By now you may be wondering, just how clean are the toilets?
The last time I visited Ando’s toilet, shreds of paper on the floor and an empty plastic bottle of water left in the cabin distracted from my own moment of repose: even a special cleaning regime involving two companies is not enough if some users don’t do their part. Recently, I found Maki’s squid toilet surrounded by plastic bags, bits of paper and plastic bottles, despite the presence of a recycling bin a few steps away. But in general, after having toured the facilities over the last three years, I can say that the toilets are incomparably cleaner and in better condition than the average street toilet in São Paulo, my hometown. My Brazilian friend Roberto Maxwell refers to those toilets as “no-man’s land”, where one is liable to find “gruesome scenes” or even “surrealist paintings”. No, he’s not talking about Dalí.
The Tokyo Toilet of Marc Newson (image: courtesy of Satoshi Nagare and The Nippon Foundation).
Another major worry about public toilets in Brazil (and other places), especially for women, is a lack of toilet paper. Find a clean booth with paper rolls and consider yourself a lucky lady. In Japan, I don’t recall any experience where I wasn’t granted this very basic amenity. On the other hand, some visitors here are surprised to find that in a place that seems to think of everything – washlets can even play artificial waterfall sounds to conceal embarrassing noises – one must leave with wet hands after washing. In Japanese public toilets, mostly the ones managed by local governments, it’s common not to find paper towels or hand dryers. Think of it as your chance to act like a local: keep a small hand towel or a handkerchief as close as you would keep your phone. Amenities are an important part of the bathroom experience, but I’ve come to understand that TTT wants to offer more than an aesthetically pleasant and sanitary relief experience. Design can be a powerful tool that affects how we connect ourselves with our surroundings, while addressing important social discussions.
To return to the social changes that emerged in the bubbling 80s, the surge in female inclusion in the workforce pushed legal developments. In 1985, the same year that Tokyo Nomad Woman was showcased, Japan passed the Equal Employment Opportunity Law in an attempt to encourage gender equity in recruiting, training and promoting women. According to Junko Kobayashi, one of TTT’s creators and the chairperson of Japan Toilet Association, the law helped “increase women’s participation in all aspects of society”, generating an elevated demand for inclusive toilets. More recently, in 2000, the Law for Promoting Easy Mobility and Accessibility for the Aged and Disabled – the “barrier-free transport law” – was enacted to respond to the needs of a rapidly ageing population and demands for inclusion of people with disabilities. In Kobayashi’s analysis, the act was another catalyst for change in public toilets’ design.
The Tokyo Toilet of Takenosuke Sakakura (image: courtesy of Satoshi Nagare and The Nippon Foundation).
These transformations are reflected in toilet signage too. Going way beyond the classic Men / Women pictograms of typical washrooms, the TTT project uses 10 other symbols to signal that some Tokyo Toilets can meet very specific needs. To list a few: accessibility for wheelchair users; grab bars for the elderly and people with disabilities; baby changing boards; children’s toilets; facilities for those with ostomies; baby chairs (for kids to safely wait); and care beds (for, say, changing adult diapers). On The Nippon Foundation’s website, Yusuke Ibuki, who is a wheelchair user, says: “When you come across a facility with a sophisticated design that functions from the perspective of people [with disabilities], you can feel that you are part of the city and society.” Especially in a country known for emphasising uniformity, the construction of beautiful universal public toilets highlights the diversity that exists in society and brings Tokyo’s eclectic cast of characters together – the taxi drivers and the tourists, the young and the old, the cleaners, the Instagrammers and the weary office workers who are finally making their way home.
[1] See ‘Obsolescent Masculinity’ in Disegno #32.
Words Piti Koshimura
This article was originally published in Design Reviewed #22. To buy the issue, or subscribe to the journal, please visit the online shop.