Common Nexus of Tokai National Higher Education and Research System

Landscape and Architecture

Standing on this site, I first resolved to restrain my own expression as much as possible, placing the highest priority on allowing the gently sloping green landscape before me—and the stately rows of mature camphor trees—to reveal their full presence. While respecting the requirements given to the site as part of the National University Corporation, I sought to create an architecture through which a new landscape could quietly emerge.

Reflecting on the Toyoda Auditorium, completed in 1960, Masato Otaka once wrote in Shinkenchiku that “architecture must be environmental—in other words, dependent on its situation.” Fumihiko Maki later evaluated the building as one that successfully expressed the great power of its environment, leaving behind the words: “Rather than judging architecture through short-sighted design evaluations, why not reconsider it beneath the open sky?” Indeed, the true beauty of the Toyoda Auditorium designed by Maki exists under the vast sky of Nagoya. Surrounded by the gentle undulations of the hills and the preserved green belt of the Higashiyama area behind it, the building stands like a gateway—an interface between architecture and environment. From this threshold, the cityscape of Nagoya unfolds beyond the sloping lawn, extending further toward Gifu in a calm and expansive view.

Looking at this scene, I felt that it was precisely the emptiness of this grassy slope—this unoccupied margin—that allowed people to gather freely and discover their own places to belong. Students and local children spending time here without prescription—this, I felt, might be the campus’s greatest architectural value. With the strong axiality of the green belt extending from the Toyoda Auditorium in mind, I envisioned a landscape in which the expansive lawn and the auditorium would be gently embraced and connected when viewed from the rooftop plaza of ComoNe. I became convinced that this could exist as a new, shared “landscape of ours.”

The Tokai National Higher Education and Research System’s Common Nexus (ComoNe) was conceived as a “commons of knowledge and innovation”—a place where universities and the city, people and people, past and future are softly interwoven. Today’s university campuses are no longer solely spaces for education and research; they are increasingly expected to function as hubs for co-creation with their surrounding communities. Connected both above and below ground to the city and the subway, this site welcomes not only students and faculty from Nagoya and Gifu Universities, but also local residents, children, companies, and artists—each arriving with their own questions. By dissolving boundaries, a new landscape of knowledge naturally fostering dialogue and inquiry is taking shape here, extending beyond conventional images of the university toward an open platform for society and industry alike.

Yato Plaza

Before the campus was formed, this site was once a yato—a valley-like terrain rich in nature. Forested hills and clear streams gathered at what is now Kagami Pond, forming a living ecosystem. Imagining this original landscape, we named the large roof that gently dips at its center and is broadly covered with grass Yato Plaza, evoking the shape of a shallow bowl. Rainwater is absorbed into the soil atop the roof, generating cycles of circulation that eventually nurture shaded places beneath the camphor tree rows.

Seen from ground level, the architecture maintains a human scale, appearing as a low, single-story form that remains beneath the height of the trees. While respecting the east–west axis connecting the Toyoda Auditorium and the library, the design consciously seeks to merge with the ground. Though the humanities and science faculties are arranged separately to the north and south across the green belt, the architecture allows them to blend fluidly—softly overlapping with local communities and nature to create an awai, an in-between realm. Yotsuya Street, which cuts through the center of the campus, meets Yato Plaza at its core, where the roof gently rises in a curved form. This is a new void born within the city—a generous margin where one looks up to the sky and encounters nature anew.

Overlapping Open Spaces

Most programmatic rooms are placed underground. By peeling back the terrain, light and wind filtering through the existing camphor trees are drawn deep into the subterranean spaces. Along the tree-lined eaves, a glass-enclosed engawa—a contemporary interpretation of a traditional veranda—forms an open threshold where people pass casually, softly connecting interior and exterior.

The underground level is organized as a single-room-like space overlooking the whole, allowing ground and underground, inside and outside, to remain connected through sightlines and subtle presence. Open spaces cascade in stepped forms from both north and south toward the center, shaping a valley-like topography linked by paths. Subway entrances and the library connect via east–west passage-like corridors. As one walks through the space, diverse activities gradually emerge, with scattered places to dwell appearing along the way.

Curved ceilings lined with washi paper receive gradients of light and the movement of air, giving them a quiet expression. Beneath the great roof of Yato Plaza, the noise of the city and moments of stillness coexist, while places large and small appear without strict order. Sky and ground, light and shadow, order and disorder intersect in unexpected ways. Six sunken gardens of light float at the center, allowing movement to cross not merely in lines, but through depth and height—creating a sectional space that evokes the density and openness of the city. Beneath each sunken garden, small spaces known as tomarigi—perches—are scattered, functioning as nodes for activity along the passages.

The Unprogrammed Margin

Since its opening on July 1, 2025, public calls for external programs have drawn a large number of proposals. The open spaces are actively used by students for self-study and interaction, achieving a high level of everyday vitality. A new form of co-creation with the local community—previously unseen in national universities—has emerged. The first “Como Market,” held in July, attracted approximately 10,000 visitors and featured over twenty programs including talk sessions, workshops, local food stalls, and art exhibitions. This event will continue quarterly, serving as a platform to share activities originating from ComoNe with the wider community.

At the same time, while regular events and exchanges among participants have become established, challenges such as sustainable operation, differences in motivation among users, and the securing of specialized staff continue to be addressed and refined. Through this living, fluid mode of operation, ComoNe is expected to grow into a beloved hub of co-creation between the university and the region.

The open space—this empty, unprogrammed margin—may in fact be the place of belonging for everyone. It is mine, and ours, and someone’s, and no one’s. As a commons where knowledge and imagination quietly come into being together, I sincerely hope that this place will continue to engage with the world in a supple and enduring way.