Something to Sink Your Teeth Into design

Kuma based the handmade latticework on a traditional Japanese children's­ puzzle called cidori, which translates as one thousand birds. "I had been interested in the potential of cidori for several years," he says. He first used it as the basis for a concept house he designed to exhibit­ during the 2007 Salone Internazionale del Mobile in Milan.

For both that project and GC Prostho, an engineer scaled up the cidori and multiplied it to act as a structural system. "One of my aims was to generate organic forms from simple cellular elements," he explains. He furthermore considers the fact that the lattices needed to be assembled by hand as an essential statement against dehumanization in the machine age.

Because seismic regulations required that stairs be supported by something sturdier than wood, Kuma translated the lattice forms into steel facsimiles, mating the two seamlessly together. The resulting staircase connects the gallery to the research and office functions occupying slightly more than half the 7,000 square feet, divided between the second and third levels and the basement. The latter is brightened by a narrow light well that Kuma conceived as a minimalist garden-into which a section of exterior latticework dangles like a suspended sculpture.

Other than the intricate lattice treatments, this is not a building with a lot of architectural detail. So Kenya Hara was enlisted to design signage­, display shelving for a number of the gallery's lattice cubes, and the amusing white plastic tooth forms that stand guard inside and outside the building. With these lighthearted additions by his Hara Design Institute Nippon Design Center, a restrained landmark stimulates and intrigues, possibly pointing to new directions for Kuma.