About two years ago, George Kougiadis, a retired art investor from Australia who had spent a significant part of his life in Japan, decided that he wanted to move back to his adoptive country with his wife, Mika, and two boisterous dogs, Jasper and Peaches. The couple knew they wanted to live somewhere unique, but exhaustive searches turned up nothing.

After many futile months, they found the perfect listing in Tokyo: a striking three-story residence with a dark wooden facade. Elegant and mysterious, it combined the air of a machiya—a traditional Kyoto townhouse—with a minimalist edge. It was just what George wanted—something one-of-a-kind, inventive, an artwork in its own right. When he contacted the realtor on the listing, saying he could be in Tokyo in a matter of days, he was surprised by her somewhat blasé attitude. Two days later, when he called her from the airport, he realized why. “She said, ‘I thought it was a joke,’ ” he recalls. “She said, ‘I’ve been a real estate agent for many years. No one’s ever called from Australia and said, “I’m coming tomorrow.”’”

The house, located in the quiet, residential neighborhood of Senkawa, was designed by architect Mikio Tai 23 years ago. The owners who built it, a three-generation family, had entered a contest by the Japanese culture magazine Brutus; the prize was having your dream house designed by a top architect. Although they didn’t win, they made it all the way to the final round—at which point the architect in question, Hiroshi Naito, kindly referred them to his young apprentice, Tai.

The family had one specific request. They wanted to be able to open windows and feel the breeze—a lovely wish, but not one entirely compatible with the lack of privacy city living brings. The wooden facade is Tai’s solution: a series of amado, traditional Japanese storm shutters that offer both privacy and ventilation.

When folded away, the shutters reveal a pair of external stairs running diagonally across floor-to-ceiling windows. That simple shift transforms the home, opening it up to unfiltered sunlight and the street outside. Depending on George’s mood, he can make the home feel private and enclosed or bright and inviting. “It’s amazing how much it changes,” he says. “It becomes a different house.”

Since the stair structure is set between the shutters and the panes of glass, the home’s interior is column free, which maximizes space. The first floor houses a kitchen area, a tatami room, and a bathroom. The second floor serves as the heart of the home with a sectional, a pair of armchairs, and an ottoman around a glass table stacked with art books; it also holds a dining area and a small bedroom with original tatami flooring. The few changes George did make to the building—removing an extra kitchen on the second floor, updating the bathroom—were done in consultation with Tai, with additional input from the previous owners. (George is close with them; the grandma still comes over for tea.)

“I want to be close to my furniture and art. In the Melbourne apartment, everything seemed strangely far away. Here it feels just perfect.”
—George Kougiadis, resident

The third level, with a low ceiling formed by interlocking wooden beams, has the feel of a secret hideout. The center of the floor opens to the living space below, allowing light to filter through and creating a sense of openness between the two levels.

The residence is around 925 square feet, all of which are put to good use. George hung paintings of all sizes throughout the house and placed sculptures among his collection of furniture and overflowing bookshelves. So ubiquitous is the artwork that, rather than feeling as if it’s on display, it just seems like a natural extension of the home. And somehow, despite the size constraints, everything fits perfectly, almost as though the art were custom made for the space.

The couple’s previous apartment in Melbourne was much larger, almost museum-like in some rooms. “It seems, intellectually, that that place should be better for my art—the walls are bigger, they’re white,” says George. But the wooden walls and the way the light moves through the Senkawa home imbue the works he’s collected with new life. His pieces somehow feel more at home here—more integrated into their environment. “I’ve never seen my artwork look better,” he says.

Project Credits:

Architect of Record: Architect Cafe

Builder: Maekawa Construction Inc.

Structural Engineering: KAP

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