To reach Higashiyoshino, in Nara Prefecture, one must travel more than four hours by bullet train from Tokyo. The surrounding countryside is deep in cedar and cypress trees; 96 per cent of the land is forest, in which bears and antelopes still roam freely through the vegetation, and the small population of 1,322 villagers live in dwellings between the trees. It’s here, in this remote outpost, that the British product designer Felix Conran and his partner Emily Smith settled last year, having found an abandoned 140-year-old wooden house. Together, they’ve undertaken a mammoth renovation using traditional Japanese carpentry.
Conran, 30, is no stranger to rural life. His grandfather, the late Sir Terence Conran, founder of Habitat and London’s Design Museum, made his home at the 18th-century Barton Court, a near ruin in Berkshire that he transformed into a country pile in the ’70s. Conran’s father, the furniture designer Alex Willcock, lived in West Sussex in a Grade II-listed 17th-century residence, Kemps House, also taking on some of the renovation himself. Restoration is in the blood.
Conran’s own journey to Japan is the culmination of a series of life developments. He studied product design at Central Saint Martins before co-founding the furniture company Maker & Son with his father in 2018. The company, which at one point employed up to 250 people, produces handmade pieces in natural materials. “My life and joy was tied to the success of my company,” says Conran of building the business with Willcock, which they sold in 2022. Having divested himself of the responsibility, the designer found himself relieved of the pressure, but at a loss as to what to do. So, the following year, Smith suggested they embark on a three-month holiday in Japan. The road trip, which took them across the Japanese archipelago from the north to Okinawa, proved to be life-changing. Once they reached Higashiyoshino village, the couple booked into an Airbnb. “Within half an hour, I was mesmerised by the village, which has a clear stream flowing right through it,” remembers Conran. “Emily and I looked at each other and said, ‘Shall we live here?’”
Their Airbnb host Kazu Sakamoto told them about a number of ancient abandoned wooden houses nearby. “It was then I had the idea that this could be my profession in Japan – to restore and renovate old neglected houses and turn them into modern homes.” Conran set up a company Ha Partners, named after the Japanese word for mother (“haha”) and Smith’s mother’s Korean family name so that he could work in the country, and returned to the UK to pick up their two dogs before the couple moved to Higashiyoshino last March.
Conran’s new home, which he and Smith have named Forest House, is one of his first renovations in this new building adventure. It was previously used as a warehouse and cattle shed. “There are an increasing number of old houses, not only in Higashiyoshino village but across rural Japan, that are no longer in use and left in a poor condition as it costs money to demolish them,” says Conran. “My aim is to show that it is possible to breathe new life into these neglected buildings, not by restoring them exactly as they were, but by appropriating them into modern and lovable houses, preserving as much as can be preserved. It is not a question of why I as an English person would do such a thing, but why I as a human being would do this. It was a pity to see a house, which has been part of the local history and culture, left to ruin. Renovating this place in Higashiyoshino is a case study in reviving other abandoned houses.”
Intriguing details about the property arrived from next door. “Our 87-year-old neighbour Mr Kizu, who was born in this village and lived here all his life, told us the original house had been uninhabited for more than 85 years,” he says. “It would have been easier to demolish it and build from scratch, but then it would have looked as though a spaceship had landed here from nowhere. I believe a home should be part of the progression of local tradition, not detached from it.”
Although Conran is an accomplished designer, he had little experience in restoration work. For these houses, he sought the help of his friend, local Japanese architect Na Yamamoto, who helped him draw up plans for the house. Carpenters and woodworkers adept in traditional Japanese carpentry were then brought in to work with the timbers. “During the process of dismantling the house, we discovered the concealed wood joinery. I was amazed by the dextrous skill of carpenters who, more than 100 years ago, made these joints so they were not visible externally, without a single nail,” Conran recalls. “The techniques they used make these structures very strong. Discovering them was like talking to a person I’d never met.”
Kenta Kitamori, a 34-year-old carpenter who worked with Conran, used traditional kanawa and shachi joints for the beams, and daisen joints for posts – replicating techniques that have been used in temples and shrines for more than 300 years. The exterior walls, meanwhile, were treated with armour cladding or yoroi bari, a traditional construction method in which wood veneer is laid in slightly tilted layers (like the structure of armour). It’s a technique that was developed in the rainy regions of Japan, such as Nara, as it allows rainwater to drain away. Instead of acting as a structural wall, however, the walls are a membrane to improve insulation. The original structural wall has cedar cladding.
The abundant use of cedar and cypress also helps connect the family to their surroundings. Cedar and cypress trees from this region are more robust than those from other parts of Japan. “Generally, 3,000 trees are planted on a hectare of land but, in Higashiyoshino, people plant 10,000 per hectare,” Conran explains. “In such a high density, trees can’t grow rapidly and will mature more slowly. This creates a denser wood. In the west, cedar and cypress are not considered suitable for building materials, but Yoshino wood is extremely strong.”
Inside the house, wood is found everywhere: from the window frames to the flooring and kitchen, which were all designed by Conran, except for several pieces made by Hiiro Yamamoto, a local craftsman. Entering through the sliding door at the front of the north-facing house, the floor is raised 30cm off the ground, as in traditional Japanese houses. The bedroom and bathroom are found on the east side to take advantage of the morning sun, while the dining area and kitchen, on the west side, benefit from the warmth of the afternoon light. In the centre of the house, a fireplace was built to resemble an irori, the hearth where people would traditionally gather and cook. The most impressive feature, however, are the 3,200 wood blocks covering the floor, all cut to 15cm by 7.5cm in size.
In the old days in rural Japan, the whole village would gather to build a single house. While Conran and Smith armed themselves with trowels to apply the Japanese keisodo plaster walls (which contain diatomite to make them breathable, insulating and sound-absorbent) themselves, a list of local carpenters, woodworkers, plasterers and neighbours helped out in this instance, watched on by 92-year-old Mrs Umemoto, who lives across the street.
Reflecting on their first year, Conran says: “I am intentionally enjoying each day.” He points to the surrounding landscape. “What drew us to this area is the care people put into their everyday life. People know they are blessed to be in nature. Mrs Umemoto was born here and even at the age of 90-plus, she climbs up the mountain slopes that can be 45 degrees or more, to smell the wild plants and mushrooms, and gather magnolia leaves. She lives an almost self-sufficient life. I think that is what a beautiful life is all about,” he concludes. “I learn from those who have the knowledge and wisdom. Every day is a new discovery.”
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