都心よ止まれ。

都心よ止まれ。

都心よ止まれ。

止まった未来を前に、東京のこれからを考える、という話。

都心よ止まれ。

都心よ止まれ。
Across Tokyo, large-scale redevelopment carries on. Towers rise, offices fill, residents move in, and city life blossoms—or so it was meant to be. Lately, though, something feels uncertain. Costs soar, plans are revised, and completion dates fade away. Behind temporary hoardings lies the surreal sight of silent construction sites. What does this "frozen time" mean? Walking Nakano, Shinjuku, and Roppongi, we ponder Tokyo’s future.

Feature | 2026.8.20


止まった未来を前に、東京のこれからを考える、という話。

Reflecting on Tokyo’s future in a paused tomorrow.

Redevelopment in Tokyo is always running at full tilt.
Out with the old, in with the new—
taller, grander, and more convenient.
Master plans promise only radiant visions of tomorrow,
with budgets and schedules expected to follow seamlessly.
Yet reality has hit a wall. Costs have skyrocketed,
labor shortages loom, and completion dates are vanishing.
Across Nakano, Shinjuku, and Roppongi,
that promised future is stuck in place.
Perhaps this pause is an opportunity to reflect:
Are these projects truly serving those who live here?
It is time to step back and weigh the merits and flaws of redevelopment. We hope this issue sparks that conversation.

東京ではいたるところで、まだ大規模な再開発が続いている。
新しいビルが建ち、オフィスが集まり、人が暮らし、にぎわいが生まれる。
そのはずだったのに、近頃ではなんだか怪しい。
工事費は上がり、計画は見直され、完成の年が見えなくなってきた。
大都市に設けられた、工事用の仮囲いのなかに
静かな工事現場があるというシュールな風景。
いま都心のあちらこちらにある、この「止まった時間」は何だろう。
中野、新宿、六本木を歩き、東京のこれからを考える。

Across Tokyo, large-scale redevelopment carries on. Towers rise, offices fill,
residents move in, and city life blossoms—or so it was meant to be.
Lately, though, something feels uncertain. Costs soar, plans are revised,
and completion dates fade away.
Behind temporary hoardings lies the surreal sight of silent construction sites.
What does this “frozen time” mean?
Walking Nakano, Shinjuku, and Roppongi, we ponder Tokyo’s future.

Redevelopment plans are full of dreams: new plazas emerge, foot traffic shifts, and stations merge with the city. Renderings feature blue skies and happy faces, with a small completion date in the corner—a promise that the future will arrive on schedule.
Yet those dates are vanishing. Material and labor costs have surged, making contractors hard to find. Since 2021, material prices jumped 38%, pushing total budgets up by 26–30%. A 10-billion-yen project now costs nearly 13 billion yen, making initial budgets unfeasible. Nakano Sunplaza was reset, Shinjuku’s timeline is uncertain, and Roppongi 5-Chome’s 2030 target looks unlikely.
Tokyo always drew strength from relentless growth. Yet in this pause, new perspectives emerge.
People pass by closed buildings, and shops operate beside temporary fences. Cranes stand motionless in an unexpectedly quiet construction site. These years waiting for completion may represent a project delay to developers, but for those who live here, it remains the setting of their daily lives. Regardless of schedules, the city moves forward today.
I do not intend to deny redevelopment. Aging structures need repair, and safety issues cannot be left unaddressed. Yet, is making something larger truly the same as making it better? Is making something brand new the same as making it more liveable? Probably not. Walking through three delayed locations, I feel that within this frozen time, a quiet moment flows to rethink what a city should truly be.

白い三角形だけが、まだそこにある。街の顔を失った中野サンプラザの再開発。
Only the white triangle remains. The redevelopment of Nakano Sunplaza has stripped the town of its icon. Closed in 2023, its plans were scrapped, leaving only rewritten schedules.Time for the building stands still

Feature | 2026.8.20



妙な感じがする。その周囲が、あまりにも中野らしく動いているからだ。サンモールには多くの人がいて、ブロードウェイへ流れ込む。昼から飲める店があり、古本とフィギュアと高級時計が並んでいる。整然とはしていない。だから、歩いていて飽きない。サンプラザは、そんな街の待ち合わせ場所だった。コンサートを観に来た人、ホテルに泊まる人、上の階から東京を眺める人。誰かの思い出の中に建っていた。


建物を残してほしいという声もあった。けれど中野区の概算では、改修費は約175億円。しかも、区が負担する費用だ。壊すのも、残すのも簡単ではない。


その場所には、7000人規模のホールを中心とする高層複合施設が計画された。だが、施行認可申請時の総事業費は2639億円まで膨らみ、計画は行き詰まった。2025年6月、中野区は施行予定者との基本協定を合意解除。旧計画は、いったん白紙へ。


2026年7月、区は新たな方針を示した。多目的ホールは3000人を基本とし、2500〜5000人に対応する規模へ縮小。2030年度に解体・建築工事に着手し、2034年度の竣工を目指すという。ふたたび、数字と日付が並びはじめた。


新しい建物は、たぶん立派になる。でも、それだけでは居心地はつくれない。中野の気安さや、人が混ざり合う感じまで、再開発のなかに残せるか。


計画には「サンプラザのDNAを継承する」とある。DNAって、何だろう。三角形の外観か、ホールの席数か、それとも街のシンボルであることか。形ではなく役割を受け継ぐのなら、その中身をいま、はっきりさせたほうがいい。


止まった時間はサンプラザを傷め、維持費を生む。長ければいいわけではない。ただ、急いで建てることだけが、街を前へ進めることでもない。サンプラザを失った後も中野が中野であるために、何を残すのか。白い三角形は、答えを待つ巨大な空欄に見える。

Only the white triangle remains.
The redevelopment of Nakano Sunplaza has stripped the town of its icon.
Closed in 2023, its plans were scrapped, leaving only rewritten schedules.Time for the building stands still.


Exit Nakano Station’s north gate, and the familiar white triangle of Nakano Sunplaza appears. Though its appearance remains unchanged, it is enclosed by temporary fences. Closed in July 2023 after 50 years, its equipment was removed, and power was cut in March 2024. Only the structure stands on this prime station-front site.It feels strange because the surroundings buzz with distinct Nakano vitality—people stream from Sun Mall to Broadway, enjoying daytime bars, used books, figures, and luxury watches. Sunplaza was the ultimate meeting spot, firmly built within people’s memories.
While some called for preservation, renovation was estimated at 17.5 billion yen. Plans for a high-rise complex with a 7,000-seat hall ballooned to 263.9 billion yen, reaching a standstill. In June 2025, the basic agreement was dissolved, sending the project back to a clean slate. In July 2026, the ward set a new policy: downscaling the hall to 2,500–5,000 capacity (3,000 baseline), with demolition in 2030 and completion in 2034. Numbers and dates line up again.
The new building may be grand, but structure alone cannot create comfort. Can Nakano’s friendly vibe and vibrant mix of people survive redevelopment?
The plan promises to “inherit Sunplaza’s DNA.” Is that its shape, seating count, or status as a local icon? To inherit its role rather than form, its true meaning must be clarified now.
Delays damage the site and build costs; speed alone isn’t progress either. What must remain for Nakano to stay Nakano? The white triangle stands as a giant blank space waiting for an answer.

壊す工事だけが、先へ進んでいる。完成の日付を失った新宿駅西南口。
Demolition moves forward. Shinjuku Station southwest exit lost its completion date. 2028 completion became "TBD."Demolition goes on, yet future plans remain unseen.walk through Shinjuku—stuck, yet relentless.

Feature | 2026.8.20


Demolition moves forward. Shinjuku Station southwest exit lost its completion date. 2028 completion became “TBD.”
Demolition goes on, yet future plans remain unseen.
I walk through Shinjuku—stuck, yet relentless.


At Shinjuku Station, getting lost is part of the urban experience. You head for the West Exit only to end up at the South Exit. You think you have reached ground level, but you are still underground. Missing just a single sign instantly puts you against the flow of people.
The southwest exit redevelopment aimed to fix this. Keio and JR East planned a 200m-plus skyscraper with shops, offices, and a hotel, completing the south district by fiscal 2028. However, that target year changed to “TBD.”
With no contractor chosen, the schedule was revised in March 2025. Demolition continues through March 2029, yet future start dates, completion dates, and contractors remain undecided. Heavy machinery moves and buildings vanish, yet no date guides the future.Even if construction timelines hang in limbo, the city never stops. Trains run daily, and crowds pass through. Rebuilding a city pieced together over time while keeping it operational is an immensely hard task.
Plans also exist for the north district after the south finishes, targeting the 2040s. Delays in the south impact the north. How many years will temporary walkways and construction fences remain part of daily life?Clearer foot traffic, safety, and easier transfers are necessary. Yet Shinjuku has embraced diverse people and places precisely because not everything connects neatly. Small underground shops, dead-end corridors, and disorientation above ground—does rationalization risk erasing the city’s charm? Only demolition proceeds while building schedules stay unknown. Perhaps what stands still here is the present itself. Before renderings, we need understanding of the present city—and words to explain what remains undecided.

巨大すぎて、予定どおりには動けない、六本木五丁目の再開発。
A 327m future floats above. Too huge to proceed as planned: Roppongi 5-chome. 800 billion yen, Japan's largest scale. 2030 completion slipped to 2032. Beneath this huge project sits present-day Roppongi.

Feature | 2026.8.20


A 327m future floats above. Too huge to proceed as planned: Roppongi 5-chome.
800 billion yen, Japan’s largest scale. 2030 completion slipped to 2032.
Beneath this huge project sits present-day Roppongi.


Walk down Imoarai-zaka from Roppongi Crossing. Turn into side streets and roads narrow, curve, and building heights vary. Restaurants sit next to homes, schools, and churches. Global hub, nightlife spot, daily life—multiple layers of time coexist in Roppongi.
This 9.2-hectare area is the Roppongi 5-chome West site. Block A-1 features a 327m, 66-story tower; Block B plans a 288m residential tower. With 1.08 million m² total floor area and 800 billion yen cost, it is less about building towers than creating a new city.
Upgrades are needed: narrow paths, old seismic standards, landslide hazard zones, traffic jams, and crowded station areas require safety fixes. Yet, the scale of the solution remains overwhelmingly massive.
Approved in April 2024, the plan originally targeted start of construction in fiscal 2025 and completion in fiscal 2030. However, in May 2026, Mori Building cited soaring construction costs and longer timelines, making 2030 unrealistic. Revised plans push completion to fiscal 2032, yet schedules remain under review.A project of this immense scale cannot move easily.
This idea didn’t emerge overnight. The local council formed in 2006, and the union in 2008. Over two decades have passed, yet no visible building has appeared. Joining Roppongi Hills, Tokyo Midtown, and Azabudai Hills, more floor space is added to boost global competitiveness. How much expansion does it take for a city to be complete? Or is a city never truly finished?This isn’t opposition to tall towers or nostalgia for old alleys. It is about how well new developments can retain local identity. Before looking up at a 327m future, we should look closely at the nameless present at our feet.

再開発が優先してきたものを、いま問い直す。建築家・山本理顕氏に聞いた。
Rising costs, labor shortages, low profits. That is how halted Tokyo redevelopments are explained. …Is that all? Investors over residents, sellable space over city memory. We rethink these priorities. An interview with architect Riken Yamamoto.

Feature | 2026.8.20


工費が上がった。人が足りない。採算が合わない。
都心の再開発が止まった理由は、そう説明される。問題はそれだけだろうか。

住む人より投資する人、街の記憶より売れる床。再開発が優先してきたものを、いま問い直す。
建築家・山本理顕氏に聞いた。

Rising costs, labor shortages, low profits.
That is how halted Tokyo redevelopments are explained. …Is that all?
Investors over residents, sellable space over city memory.
We rethink these priorities.
An interview with architect Riken Yamamoto.

『再開発は、真面目にやらなきゃダメですよ。』

“Redevelopment must be taken seriously”


—What are your thoughts
 on current stalled urban redevelopments in central Tokyo?


In short, it is because people aren’t taking it seriously—policymakers, developers, and architects alike. When using vast funds and altering cityscapes, you must be serious.
Originally, architecture had laws and regulations to prevent reckless building. Today, people figure out how to bypass those grids to build higher and larger. Authorities respond by easing rules. Consequently, instead of breaking laws, they use laws to maximize sellable floor area.
Behind this lies real estate securitization. Gathering money through funds, buildings are constructed not for residents or workers, but to raise investor yields. Architecture became a commodity that generates cash.
Naturally, more floor space is better, pushing height and size to the limit. But an architect’s job isn’t stacking floor area to legal boundaries. Even if legally permitted, if harmful to surroundings, keep it lower. Making tha tjudgment is the architect’s duty.
This stall isn’t caused by rising costs alone. Repeating the same mechanism led to its deadlock. Naturally, no method stays profitable forever.
Can paused plans restart as they were? I find that doubtful. Early investors will struggle. Honestly, I lack an immediate answer. Yet waiting for profitability just to build the same thing is clearly wrong.
Redevelopments offer plazas, decks, or green spaces, claiming “public value.” But a plaza alone doesn’t create public space. If filled with restrictions, as is common, it isn’t public. Space is public because we enter freely.
All architecture possesses public nature. Larger buildings alter surroundings and lives, carrying heavier duties. Profits aren’t bad. Developers should profit. Yet they must seriously ask who it serves and what stays in the city.
This pause is a good chance to rethink who redevelopment is for. If the answer is “for investors,” build nothing. A city belongs to no single owner.



©sekiguchitaketo

建築家
山本理顕氏(やまもと・りけん)



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