Looking at therow of wooden openings in this Tokyo apartment, you are able to assumeit’s hiding a broom wardrobe or, perhaps, a tidy load of linens. In actuality, attracting the doors towards the wall causes them to fold like an accordion, discovering a kitchenette.
This hidden kitchen is the work of Japanese pattern studio Minorpoet. According to studio founder Hiroaki Matsuyama, his team modeled the minimalist suite aftera Machiya–a traditional Kyoto townhouse in which, custom mandates, the kitchen must not be visible from the living room.In the case of vehicles of this6 50 -square-foot Tokyohome, the kitchen is technically in the living room. But Minorpoet’shideaway peculiarity sidesteps that problem.
It’s a inventive employment of a small space–something decorators have been doing more of, lately, as micro-apartments become increasingly common. MIT Media lab developed a robotic wall that serves asa shelving unit, pop-out desk, wardrobe, and trundle-style bunk. New York City’s first microapartments feature fold-out sofas, extendable kitchen counters, and experiential perkslike housework and weekly errand-runners. You can even hire someone to rig up a bunk that descendsfrom your living room ceiling when you’re ready to call it a night.
The key to micro-living, in other words, ismultifunctionality. WhatMinorpoet’s design testifies is that multipurpose-ing one’s home needn’t involvea levitating bed or a robot wall.
The minuscule kitchen saves you space, and the doors save the uncluttered aesthetic of the entryway.In Japan, there is a culture to meet grace in plain pattern, Matsuyama replies. The outcome is an suite that plucks double-duty. It’s an economical employment of space, sure. But primarily, it’s just beautiful.