This year, the tenth year anniversary of the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear disaster brought a powerful reminder of the urgency to find sustainable solutions for the redevelopment of decommissioned nuclear sites and the management of nuclear waste.

In contrast to the controversial but globally accepted solution of burying radioactive waste in deep geological repositories for over 100,000 years, this project proposes the recycling and recovery of nuclear waste, postulating the progress of current experimental decontamination technologies.

The design narrates the future of a decommissioned nuclear power plant and its surrounding village in Mihama, Japan. The narrative generates and is generated by an interminable dialogue between nuclear forms and heritage and the traditional life in the Japanese coastal town. This dialectic is further reflected in the construction of a Shinto sanctuary, integrating ceremonial and commercial activities such as fishing, rice farming and sake brewing.

Influenced by traditional Japanese performative design processes and the usage of mimicry, the architecture employs nuclear waste and pure geometric forms repeated isomorphically in order to preserve their identity and direct their value. The monumental interior of the nuclear reactor is doubled horizontally in the surrounding village and vice-versa, one becoming a mirror image of the other.

The project draws on the complex relationship between Japan and nuclear power, the latter depicted by post-war architects, such as Harata Isozaki, as part of a natural cycle of death and rebirth. Ultimately, the architecture aims to present radioactivity as a natural phenomenon that can and should be addressed, attempting to advance a solution for the nuclear waste crisis, the heritage of nuclear power plants and the economy of the villages that depend on them for their power.

The project was developed at the Bartlett School of Architecture and was awarded the Bartlett School of Architecture Medal.

KOOZ What prompted the project?

SB In September, at the beginning of my final year of Masters, I was reading the News on different platforms, to find an issue to address in my brief. On the Japan Times I came across an article reporting how different Japanese towns were bidding over the hosting of a national deep geological repository for nuclear waste. Deep geological repositories are enormous underground structures, excavated between 300 and 500 meters, meant to protect the radioactive waste for over 100,000 years. Personally, I never heard of them before and I was distressed to apprehend of their existence or potential existence, not only in Japan but worldwide.

The relationship between nuclear waste and architecture hasn’t been addressed as widely as the relationship between architecture and other hazardous materials, this might be because of the extreme danger of radioactive waste and the endless debate behind nuclear power. I then decided it would have been very interesting to explore such topic, both to tackle its controversy but especially to explore whether there could ever be any other solution for the management of nuclear waste, in contrast to the dumping of this under our feet. I never expected the project to find a conclusive solution to such an important issue, but I felt it would have been worth trying to open a discussion between architecture and the nuclear waste crisis.

KOOZ What questions does the project raise and which does it address?

SB The first and perhaps more straightforward question that the project addresses is the following: how is that we obsessively recycle (or try to recycle) any kind of waste except from nuclear? Architecturally speaking, we think of nuclear waste as a highly dangerous material that will contain its radioactivity, hence its hazard, for a period of time longer than the human existence on this earth. Such deep timeframe fascinates us but excludes the usage of this materials in recycling opportunities.

Rationalising, radioactivity is a fruit of science, shouldn’t we then look into science in order to find a solution to the nuclear waste hazard? This year, I read countless amounts of scientific articles exploring the decontamination and recycling opportunities of nuclear waste, that I then summarised and reflected upon in my dissertation. While a much deeper research would need to be conducted, according to my findings, the recycling of radioactive waste in architecture is indeed possible, although we might not be ready for this just yet. Several technologies to decontaminate the material exist and have been proven successful at a laboratory scale, although they will need a combination of incentives to become available at an industrial scale.

Naming a few, Nobel Prize physicist Gerard Mourou experimented with a High Laser Power that could transmute the radioactive isotope half-life from thousands of years to a matter of weeks. Continuing, a team at the University of Bristol encapsulated Carbon-14 (the radioactive contaminant of nuclear graphite) in a diamond battery capable of delivering a short amount of energy for long periods of time. These examples are among the most popular ones but many more are being studied.

How can architecture then be involved in this highly scientific problem? As it often happened in the past, architecture could and should play a primary role by advancing design proposals exposing the financial and social benefits that decontaminated and recycled waste will have in the future, in order to incentive stakeholders and public interest to invest in the development of decontamination technologies in the present.

"The Village inside the Nuclear Power Plant" addresses these questions and ideas among others and indeed raises even more doubts. Even after examining all the benefits, will we ever decide to invest in decontamination technologies or will the burying of nuclear waste always be considered cheaper? Will the public ever be ready to accept the presence of recycled nuclear waste in their backyard? Or drink wine that sat in a tank recycled from a nuclear power plant? Will we be able to live alongside nuclear waste, as it is already happening in villages adjacent to nuclear power plants, or will this be cause of controversy? How do we define the risk? How much risk are we willing to take? How much perceived risk are we willing to take? What is the relationship between architecture and risk? And many others…

KOOZ How does the project approach the value of waste today?

SB I’d like to think that today more than ever in the past we are conscious not only of the issue of waste but also of the benefits, hence the value, that this can bring in our built environment. By exploring how nuclear waste could be integrated in architecture, the project aims to celebrate once again the opportunities, advancements but also unexpected rewards derived by the inclusion of waste in design proposals.

KOOZ How does the project aim to redefine our approach to nuclear energy?

SB The project aims to expose nuclear reactors for what they are, a highly complex work of engineering inevitably leaving behind a complex legacy. Whether or not we decide to continue with nuclear power, nuclear waste is already a problem that needs to be addressed. While this project doesn’t directly address our approach to nuclear energy or the nuclear debate, it aims to raise this as an additional question and encourage a perhaps more informed reflection upon this.

KOOZ How and to what extent should architecture be conceived as an active participant in the circular economy?

SB I think that architecture should be conceived both as an active and passive participant in the circular economy. Perhaps paper architecture can be regarded as a passive but powerful participant, since the role of speculative and unbuilt projects, such as this one, is to start a conversation involving several different disciplines, to eventually incentive positive and sustainable changes in our economy. To make this an even more powerful message, paper architecture should clearly define what’s the project’s position in the circular economy. I think that the extent of such clarification is up to the architect’s skillful balancing of beauty, sustainability, functionality, and innovation in the project, according to the timeframe and restrictions that this has to follow.

KOOZ What is the power of the Architectural Imagination?

SB To continue the previous answer, we could conclude that Architectural Imagination owns the power to change the world. While this sentence may appear idealistic and delusional, I believe that architecture, being both a highly creative and rational discipline is on a leading position to find visionary solutions to mundane issues. While the issue can be small or big, our role to identify it and creatively imagine how this could be functionally solved is certainly the first unmissable step towards change.

Bio

Sabina is an architectural designer active in London. Originally from Italy, Sabina moved in the English capital to pursue her architecture studies. Her early work focused on the aesthetics and spatial experience in architecture, while her late work shows a concern on the role of architecture within complex heritages and legacies. Sabina completed her BArch (ARB/RIBA Part I) at the University of Westminster in 2018. After this she gained one year of work experience in three International architecture firms, Hawkins Brown, Kengo Kuma and Associates and BIG, moving between London and Tokyo. This year, she finished her MArch (ARB/RIBA Part II) at the Bartlett School of Architecture. Here, her final project, The Village Inside the Nuclear Power Plant, was awarded the Bartlett School of Architecture Medal.