Overprovision can be seen as an architecture strategy through the lens of resilience—making spaces adaptable to changes, reinterpretations, and future needs. However, could overprovision also offer a productive lens for rethinking spatial design? Are there parallels in architectural theory or practice that align with this concept, as explored by notable figures in the discourse on space?
This question becomes particularly relevant in residential design, especially in regions like Hong Kong or Tokyo, where the demand to maximize space is a cultural and practical norm. Designers are frequently tasked with “making use of every inch” for storage or function, reflecting a tendency among residents to accumulate belongings disproportionate to their living spaces.
Peter Menzel’s Material World: A Global Family Portrait vividly illustrates this phenomenon, capturing the abundance of possessions that inhabit small and big homes worldwide. Within this context, how might overprovision, specifically the deliberate inclusion of “unprogrammed” or seemingly functionless space, contribute to the balance and usability of such homes?
Related Article
What is Over-Providing? A Strategy for Resilient Architecture
Useless Spaces, Homes, and Functionless Areas
Many homeowners approach their living spaces as machines, sometimes misinterpreting Le Corbusier’s famous concept, “the house is a machine for living in.” This tunnel-visioned mindset often leads to overemphasizing utility—filling bathroom corners with storage units, converting living room walls into floor-to-ceiling shelves, and transforming every small nook into functional spaces like walk-in closets. This obsessive focus on optimizing every square inch can result in overly cluttered, cramped environments.
Yet, what if deliberately creating “functionless” spaces—intentionally left empty or undefined—could play a crucial role in balancing the home? Such spaces may relieve over-cramming and offer a sense of openness, enhancing the overall living experience. The fear of “doing nothing” with certain parts of the home often stems from a perception that unused space is a wasted investment. However, this view overlooks the intangible benefits of emptiness. Open, unoccupied areas can enhance spatial quality, encourage relaxation, and improve the aesthetics of a home, ultimately offering more satisfaction than filling every corner with function.
Rather than prioritizing usefulness at all costs, embracing overprovision in unprogrammed space may lead to healthier, more balanced homes. Sometimes, space’s most outstanding contribution lies in its potential—not in its immediate function but in its ability to provide room for reflection, adaptability, and breathability in daily life.
Kazuo Shinohara – Wasteful Space
The concept of overprovision, particularly in the form of “useless” or “wasteful” space, has been an overlooked yet compelling aspect of architectural discourse. Kazuo Shinohara, a revered figure in modern Japanese architecture, famously asserted, “A house is a work of art.” During a lecture at Harvard GSD, Pritzker Prize-winning architect Kazuyo Sejima reflected on Shinohara’s ideas, contrasting them with the practical, efficiency-driven lessons she encountered in school. Her education emphasized short circulations, logical adjacencies (e.g., placing dining rooms near kitchens), and pragmatic spatial organization. Shinohara, however, introduced an entirely different perspective—one that celebrated muda no kukan (wasteful space).
“… I conceived of the idea of wasteful space as a basic notion. I thought that the expression of wasteful space would be possible … through the immanent feeling of the void or insufficient space … I achieved the feeling of wasteful space through the extreme simplification of the dwelling functions.” – Kazuo Shinohara, 1982 Essays
Shinohara critiqued architecture’s overemphasis on functionality, arguing that it often leads to unnecessarily complex, congested designs that stray from the essence of how space should serve its occupants. Instead of creating sprawling homes with large, undifferentiated spaces, he explored how smaller, simplified spaces could provide a profound sense of dwelling and reflection. These functionless areas—neither designed for adaptability nor practical reuse—exist solely to enrich the joy of living. Rather than filling every corner with predefined purposes, Shinohara proposed spaces that simply are, allowing inhabitants to move, pause, and dwell without utility dictating their experience.
In practice, Shinohara integrated this philosophy into several projects, including the House in White (1966), the Uncompleted House (1971), and most notably, the Repeating Crevice House (1971). In the latter, his concept of “fissure space” materialized through the duplication of staircases. These redundant stairs, far from serving purely functional roles, created vertical slices and double-height pockets that felt almost purposeless. Their presence removed the pressure of serving a single definitive function, offering residents moments of spatial balance and serenity. These “episodes” of pure space—neither entirely functional nor entirely art—illustrated how overprovision could transform a house into a work of art rather than merely a machine for living.
The Case of Eames’ Case Study House and Other Contemporary Examples
In examining residential design across different cultural and temporal contexts, unexpected parallels emerge with Kazuo Shinohara’s wasteful or functionless space concept. The iconic Eames House (Case Study House No. 8) offers a compelling comparison. While not explicitly addressing Shinohara’s muda no kukan, the Eames House incorporates elements that align with similar principles.
The house’s design includes two striking double-height spaces at opposite ends: one functioning as a living room and the other as a studio. These areas showcase a deliberate overprovision of volume, with their soaring ceilings accentuating spatial generosity. The duality of these spaces blurs their identities—what serves as a living room could just as efficiently function as a studio. This duplication of purpose mirrors the redundant stairs in Shinohara’s Repeating Crevice House, where replicated architectural elements critique their own functionality. The Eameses’ approach relieves these spaces from the pressure of serving a singular purpose, allowing them to exist as undefined zones that prioritize experience over utility.
In contemporary residential architecture, the concept of wasteful space—whether intentional or incidental—has become more relevant. Stair landings and vertical circulations, in particular, serve as fertile ground for this idea, offering moments that break away from a home’s otherwise relentless functionality.
For example, in the Wang Residence by 2BOOKS DESIGN, the deliberate placement of a mirror at the top landing of the staircase transforms the space into a moment of pause. The mirror reflects the inhabitants and creates a sudden discontinuity in pace and spatial rhythm, inviting both metaphorical and literal reflection. This thoughtfully “wasteful” design interrupts the flow of movement, encouraging occupants to linger and experience the space beyond its functional purpose.
Similarly, the Paysandú Residences by Bakro-Mayorano leverages vertical voids adjacent to staircases to craft dramatic and intentional spatial pauses. The double-height space near the stairs, left free of furniture or overt functional use, buffers the densely arranged living, dining, and kitchen areas. By avoiding clutter or predefined purposes, the architects create a transitional zone that enhances the overall spatial experience.
In both cases, these deliberate overprovisions act as fissures within the layout, introducing moments of reflection and detachment from the home’s tightly packed, utilitarian functions. Such wasteful spaces enrich the dwelling experience by fostering an emotional and sensory connection to the architecture.
Functionless spaces introduce a scale shift that liberates occupants from the constraints of purely functional living environments. By emphasizing dwelling as an experiential act, overprovisioned and wasteful spaces play a crucial role in creating homes prioritizing inhabitants’ emotional and sensory needs rather than simply maximizing storage or utility. These moments of spatial generosity enrich the architecture, arguing that sometimes, doing “less” with space or being deliberately wasteful may achieve so much more.