全国の住宅行脚を続けていると各地の古民家にその土地らしさをみて感動することが多い。そうした古民家が長い時間推移を生き延びてきた様子に、ひたすら打たれてくるのですね。
そういうなかで以前に一度訪ねた古民家、それも地域自治体が管理に当たっていた古民家が崩壊しているというケースを見ることはなかった。しかし今回、たまたま再訪した青森市浪岡の古民家の崩壊現場をまざまざと目撃させられてしまった。写真の通りのような状況でした。
ちなみに2024年１月に訪問したときの全景写真は以下の通り。
左手側は主屋で２階建てで構造的にもしっかりと軸組構成されていたけれど、右手側には土間の大空間が広がっていて、たしかに構造は簡素な造りとは言えた。
こういう事態に至っていたので、当然説明とかを見たり聞いたりすることは出来ませんでしたが、重厚な萱葺き屋根がこのように崩壊するというというのは衝撃的。一度でもその空間に触れていた人間としては、まるで知人の訃報を知ったような無念さが感じられた。古民家はその空間性から、深く建築と人間の暮らしぶりを感じさせてくれる存在なので、単に無機質な空間の破綻とは思われない。
さらに茅葺き屋根はイキモノのような柔構造での破綻の仕方を見せていて、まるで自然の中での動物たちの骸にも似た衝撃波をもって観る者に迫ってくる。ドライブしていると、自然の動物たちが無念の交通事故死を迎えた様子を目にせざるを得ないけれど、それとよく似たイキモノ感。
ついさっきまで生きていたままの生々しさが周辺の雰囲気に漂っている。科学的な理解が行き渡る以前の昔人が感じていただろう「霊性」までそこにはあるかのようだ。
茅葺きというのはそのような「素性」の素材なのだと言うことが胸に響いてくる。
同様のことは、雷に打たれてその衝撃で幹が断裂を引き起こしてしまった自然木の骸からも感じさせられた。たくさんの住空間を見て来たけれど、その「終のカタチ」というものをマジマジと見せつけられた思い。どんなに愛着を持ってあたっても、逃れることの出来ない定めを見せつけられる。
このあと、わたしは本州・青森の地を離れて北海道に船で向かったのだけれど、胸に沈殿してくる感覚を抑えることができなかった。諸行無常。
English version⬇
A direct hit on an old private house? Collapsed by lightning strike or snow load in Aomori Namioka].
The presence of the voice of the bell of the Gion Seisha... comes to those who have touched the space even once. The thatched wreckage of a raw, immaterial feeling. ...
As I continue my nationwide tour of houses, I am often impressed by the local character of the old houses in different parts of the country. And I am constantly struck by the way these old private houses have survived the passage of time.
In this context, I had never seen a case where an old private house that I had visited once before, and which had been managed by the local authority, had collapsed. This time, however, I happened to revisit an old house in Namioka, Aomori City, and was forced to witness the scene of its collapse. The situation was as shown in the picture.
Incidentally, a panoramic view of the house when we visited in January 2024 is shown below.
The left-hand side was the main building, two storeys high and firmly constructed on an axis, but on the right-hand side there was a large space with an earthen floor, and the structure could certainly be described as a simple structure.
Naturally, I was not able to ask for an explanation of what had happened, but it was shocking to hear that the massive thatched roof had collapsed in this way. As someone who had once been in contact with the space, I felt a sense of regret, as if I had just learned of the death of an acquaintance. Old houses cannot be considered simply as a collapse of inorganic space, as their spatiality gives us a deep sense of architecture and the way people lived.
Furthermore, the thatched roof shows the collapse of a soft structure like that of an inanimate object, and approaches the viewer with a shockwave similar to that of the wreckage of animals in nature. When driving, you can't help but see animals in nature that have died in regrettable car accidents, and this film has a similar feeling of being alive.
There is a vividness in the atmosphere of the surroundings, as if they were still alive just a few moments ago. It is as if there is even a ‘spirituality’ that people in the past, before scientific understanding, would have felt.
The fact that thatch is a material of such ‘nature’ resonates in my heart.
The same thing was also felt from the wreckage of a natural tree that had been struck by lightning and the impact had caused a rupture in the trunk. I have seen many living spaces, but I felt as if I was being seriously shown their ‘final form’. No matter how attached we are to our homes, we are shown a fate from which we cannot escape.
After this, I left Honshu and Aomori and headed for Hokkaido by boat, but I could not suppress the sensation that settled in my heart. The impermanence of all things.
