Every building project involves multiple steps. To cover everything from the initial design phase to the actual building stage, conventional builders normally divide the different pieces among multiple contractors. At Seyseysha, however, we do everything in-house—to us, a project is a work of art with a singular vision. Fukada, well-versed in the ways of wood, designs and crafts each individual building with care and dedication, utilizing his vision and expertise every step of the way.

When natural materials and that painstaking artistry come together, the results are amazing: warm, restful homes architecture that get better with age. 　In Seyseysha’s works, the ideals of the past—a belief in the co-existence between nature and humanity—find new expression. We want that spirit to live on into the future.

Take a look through our portfolio of architectural works and building projects.

At Seyseysha, we’re happy to take on projects across Japan and around the world. We’d love to show you what we can do.


Makoto Fukada
Master carpenter
Head builder, Seyseysha

I drew the house I was born.
The house is a wooden Japanese house of the early Showa period (the late 1920s).
I was born in 1959 and I spent my childhood in there.

The house was located in Hon-amanuma, Suginami-ku, Tokyo. It was an about 20 minutes’ walk in a northerly direction from Ogikubo Station on the Chūō line.

There was a 66㎡ house on the 396㎡ leased land.
At the large garden, there were various flowers and plants. For instance, cherry trees, a pine tree, camellias, a persimmon tree, a peach tree, a chestnut tree, maple trees, fragrant orange-colored olives, gold-banded lilies, azaleas, hydrangeas, forsythia, narcissi, Thunberg spirea, a nandina, a snake gourd, and so on.

A simple wooden gate was in the southwest corner. We approached an entrance through a shrub road.
At the left side of the entrance, you could see the porch called Engawa. At the end of the Engawa ahead, there was a eight-tatami mat size room called Zashiki, drawing room.
At the right side, you could see a four-and-a-half mat room called Chano-ma, living room, and there was an open veranda facing the garden.

A kitchen was the end of the Chano-ma room. It was only two-tatami mat size.

There were three wells, in the kitchen, in the bath room, and in front of the kitchen door.
Near the house, there were Myosyoji Lake that was one of the water sources. It seemed this area was rich in the groundwater.

A bath room was just north of the kitchen and next to the bath, there was a small wood stove called Kamado for cooking outside.
The bath tab was made of wood and we heated the water by firewood.

A refrigerator was also made of wood. It cooled foods by ice bought from an ice seller.
At around 1950s, it was the era that a washing machine and a vacuum cleaner were not yet widely in use.

As any old Japanese house, the house was always opened widely.
The garden was surrounded with a rough bamboo fence and a hedge. You could see how the house looks like through the hedge from a house next door or a street.
Human and nature, or human and human, both of them were live close together in this time. There had been many interchanges between them.
There were no strong boundaries.

Because of eaves sticked out into a street, sun light didn’t come into the innermost part of the house.
Even the house was open, the air was cool and dark in the inner room during the daytime.
Sun light came into the Engawa and the small space of the Chano-ma room. There were warm so I was basking in the sun at there.
The house at that time didn’t have a window screen. There were no screen between inside and outside in the daytime. Seasonal wind passed through the house pleasantly.

In the hot summer, we handed a bamboo blind at the Engawa to give shade.
Just watering a garden and tinkling wind bells produced a mild coolness.

In the winter, our heaters were a charcoal-fire sunken kotatsu and a brazier.
In the Chano-ma room, a white steam was coming out from an iron kettle on the brazier. Only in this room, all my family huddled together for warmth. Although a draft blew the house, I wonder that I didn’t have the memory that I felt particularly cold.

At the west side of the Zashiki room, there was a closet.
The closet always closed and it was a dark space, so children couldn’t enter there. A disused shamisen, a military uniform which was a relic of the war, an old dressing table, a chest of drawers, and seasonal ornaments were put into the closet.

At the west end of the porch, the vault toilet was there.
It was frightening for children more than the closet. I couldn’t go to the toilet by myself at night even it was a short distance from my bedroom.

After the sunset, we closed all shutters. Just then, a quietly night time started and an orange light was lit in the room warmly.

There were four people in my family, my mother, my father, my sister and me.
We lay out some futons like the character for river and we slept together in the eight-tatami mat room, Zashiki.

In my childhood, I experienced something mysterious almost every night.
At night, a corner board of the ceiling was quietly open just before I fell a sleep. I felt like someone was waiting for me and I got sucked into there. People who live above the ceiling, they looked like beggars (basara), took me to an another world each night. And then, just before I woke up in the morning, the same ceiling board was open again and I went back to my bed. When I opened my eyes, the ceiling board was closed neatly even though I came back from there until just now. I was gazing in wonder at the corner of ceiling for a while from my bed.

The people who looked like beggars (basara) must be Zashiki-warashi, goblins of a child, I think.

The house was demolished when I was six.

Frightening darkness and hobgoblins lived in this house. I didn’t know why but I felt that I was being protected by something. It put my fears at rest and I could live peacefully.
I really loved the house that gave me the experience of the world being full of wonders.

The house was the beginning of my works.
My dream, my goal in life is to built a house like this house someday.


Makoto Fukada