Way out in the depths of Niigata prefecture, there’s a house unlike any other in Japan. James Turrell’s “House of Light” is a modern-built, traditional-style Japanese house where people can stay to experience light in a variety of specific conditions that the artist has arranged for, all centred around a sky-viewing room…

Written by Ashley Rawlings

James Turrell is an artist from California (born 1943) whose installation work controls viewers’ perception of light and space. He has works all over the world, and there are many in Japan too. His work Minamidera on Naoshima for example is a wooden ‘temple’, pitch black inside, in which you have to sit for ten minutes before your eyes gradually adjust to the faint, ghostly white form that appears in the space in front of you.

Minamidera on Naoshima

A frosted glass opening next to the entrance

The Chichu Art Museum which opened on Naoshima in 2004 was also partly built in order to house some of his work. Open Sky is a tall concrete chamber with seats built into the walls. In the ceiling there is a large square hole through which you can see the sky. Even on a grey day, the sky takes on an incredible beauty. And even if it rains, the water comes in and drains away through discreetly designed grilles in the floor. The seats are set back far enough so that you probably won’t get wet.

The House of Light operates on a similar principle: there is a square hole in the ceiling covered only by a mechanical sliding roof, which you are invited to open at sunset and sunrise.

I ventured out there a couple of days ago with the staff at Tokyo Art Beat and Shirokuma magazine as a way of escaping the sweltering heat of Tokyo. It was just right because it was pouring down with rain in Niigata prefecture, making the landscape more atmospheric, with steam rising off the mountains all around.

The house is located on the outskirts of the Tokamachi, half-way up one of these mountains. Its entrance had to be built over 2.7 metres above the ground so that it can survive the massive snowfall that affects the region in winter. Just walking up the steps feels like walking up to the entrance of a temple.

Inside is that amazing modern-traditional Japanese aesthetic that I’ve seen in countless interior design magazines but never actually found myself in for real! The whole house has that faint, relaxing smell of wood and tatami mats, and yet the lighting is very different from an ordinary traditional Japanese house.

one of Turrell’s tokonoma light installations in the main room

a very traditional Japanese looking veranda

All around the upper part of the walls run channels of light: a soft yellow glow that can be adjusted with dimmer-switches, but the switches all have marks telling you the level Turrell recommends, so we left them as they were. Where there are normally scrolls hanging in the tokonoma alcoves, there are James Turrell’s light installations.

The layout of the upper floor is structured mainly around the twelve-mat sky-viewing room and the kitchen, which is fully equipped with glasses, cutlery and crockery to use as you wish. You can cook for yourself or order in locally-prepared food in large, lacquer bento boxes.

beautiful light kitchen ready to use

another specially lit corridor

Downstairs there’s another tatami room and then a very sleek hot spring… but only one, so boys and girls have to figure something out among themselves.

Turrell’s choice of lighting down there is a little different: just a few fiber-optic cables running around the edge of the water and around the door frame. While I felt it was atmospheric in its own way, it wasn’t quite in keeping with the rest of the house: it somehow made me think of how coctail bars might have looked in Florida in the 1980s. The water was also a little on the tepid side, which was a shame, but it was still one of the most memorable hot springs I’ve ever been to.

shower and….

… the typical wooden seat for longer washing sessions

Because of the rain, we weren’t able to open up the roof at sunset, but it didn’t matter so much because the rain was so atmospheric anyway. The lights around the house darkened to a deeper orange glow and the relaxed mood for the evening was very much set.

Most of us pulled out the futons and went to sleep at around 1am, but we were then woken up by the clamour of excited people opening the roof at 3:15am because the rain had stopped — just in time for the beginning of sunrise!

napping away in orange light

excited friends opening the roof for sun-rise

In comparison to sunsets, it’s not that often that most people see the sky at sunrise, especially not from their very beginning in the middle of the night, studied intently through an aperture designed for that very purpose. I watched the sky for the next hour and a half, gradually turning from jet black, to black, to the darkest possible shade of blue, slowly, slowly brightening up into dawn… After the long initial period in which the sky remained black, the moment when I first noticed the almost imperceptible change into deep blue was incredibly moving.

I took photos every time I perceived a change in colour, but looking at them later, the first five out of eight seem identical; on its automatic setting, the camera is barely capable of making the distinctions that the human eye can. Once the sun comes up over the horizon the colour of the sky changes much quicker and the camera can pick it up more easily.

4:13am

4:19am

4:20am

4:30am

By the time I got up, I simply couldn’t believe an hour and a half had gone by. And then we were all rewarded by the most phenomenal view of the valley at sunrise.

Looking east into the sun, it looked like a landscape straight out of Africa: a blazing sunrise with steam rolling across the mountains.

incredible breakfast feast

After a few more hours sleep, it was time to have breakfast (another feast!) and get ready to leave… from start to finish it was an unforgettable experience.

The house is open to regular visitors during the day, so we had to check out by 10am. It was sad to go… while so many people must visit the house all year round, our stay there felt very personal. We left talking about how we would come again next year.

In the meantime, if you happen to be in that area, the Echigo-Tsumari Art Trienniale is taking place, running until the 10th September.

To make a reservation for the House of Light, please fill out the forms here.