A Childhood Glimpse of In Praise of Shadows in Mackintosh's Architecture

My interest in Japanese aesthetics began at an early age. Growing up in a creative family in Glasgow, Scotland, I was lucky enough to spend a few summers taking classes in The Mackintosh Building at the Glasgow School of Art, designed by Charles Rennie Mackintosh. Studying here, I was exposed daily to the innovative results of Scottish design thinking influenced by Japan and how this fusion could result in groundbreaking work that bridges cultures.

Roaming the corridors of Mackintosh’s architecture, I witnessed the interplay of light and shadow. I had my first glimpse of Japanese craftsmanship techniques, observing the wooden frameworks, which were akin to Japanese kigumi. Not until later would I become acquainted with the works of Junichiro Tanizaki and his book In Praise of Shadows, where he writes:

“Whenever I see the alcove of a tastefully built Japanese room, I marvel at our comprehension of the secrets of shadows, our sensitive use of shadow and light. For the beauty of the alcove is not the work of some clever device. An empty space is marked off with plain wood and plain walls, so that the light drawn into its forms dim shadows within emptiness. There is nothing more. And yet, when we gaze into the darkness that gathers behind the crossbeam, around the flower vase, beneath the shelves, though we know perfectly well it is mere shadow, we are overcome with the feeling that in this small corner of the atmosphere there reigns complete and utter silence; that here in the darkness, immutable tranquillity holds sway.”

These words, referencing a traditional Japanese ‘tokonoma' (alcove), perfectly capture the

stillness and depth I felt within that building at a young age.