Kengo Kuma has spent three decades attempting to erase his buildings. Not literally — his work is substantial, rigorously crafted, deeply present — but philosophically. "I want to make architecture that is not there," he has said. His latest project, a private retreat nestled in the Japanese Alps above Nagano, is perhaps the closest he has come to that impossible ambition.

"Architecture should be like a tree — rooted, patient, giving shade to those who pass beneath."

Inside, the spatial logic mirrors the approach. Rooms open onto stone terraces that give way to pine forest. The boundary between interior and exterior is systematically undermined: walls become screens, ceilings lift to reveal sky, floors transition from polished concrete to mossy ground.