There is a case to be made for the notion of inconvenience, not only because it can be a new modality of sustainability, but also because it is a way humanity can reconnect with nature. The Japanese sentiment of fūryū (風流) literally means “wind flowing through” and it was an ultimate aestheticization of formerly grand complexes of nobility that became so decrepit that wind would blow through porous walls and hole-ridden shoji panels. However, the habit bound nobility that clung to the imperial, but inglorious, capital, exacted a kind of reframing, positive transformation of decrepitness into an altogether new sense of aesthetics by elevating the fūryū to mean elegance, taste, sober refinement. Talk about an acquired taste!
Now, this is not to advocate for poor construction, poor materiality, or poor design for that matter. It is to the contrary. Aesthetics of inconvenience transcends quality of construction, materiality or design. Rather, it is a state of mind. Perhaps this is why it has affinity to certain pathos inherent in all things zen, wabi-sabi or the way of tea.
We have become so accustomed to the idea of convenience that we expect everything and sometimes everyone around us to respond in a snap of fingers’ command. The more we pursued the interconnectedness of the global community, the more we actually engendered polarization, division, and loneliness. The more information at our fingertips we devoured, the more bullshit (in a Harry Frankfurt way, I swear) we also consumed, untruths and misinformations ready to devour in reverse our very civility, civics, and civilizations as we know. At a physical level, we have also become acclimated to winter-like cooled interiors on a hot tropical summer day, or equally vice versa. A sense of yearning for an immediate gratification extends not only to thermostats but how we meet or interact with people, for pleasures of all shades of gray to how we must have the newest, hottest dinner or cocktails in town.
While these are all fine and earthly pursuits, in moderation, aesthetics of inconvenience is in fact a deprivation of those things that make our lives easy, readily gratifying, over-sensitizing, and overstimulating. Digital detox is a kind of aesthetics of inconvenience. Sauna is a kind of aesthetics of inconvenience. Tea ceremony is a kind of aesthetics of inconvenience. We just don’t see it that way, because we see these programs as culturally imperative. Aesthetics is very much a part of everyday economics, pedestrian life, and genericity; from high class to low class. On the other hand, there are cases where aesthetics of inconvenience have commanded a premium. From Coachella to Burning Man, these remote events have become incredibly extravagant and transformational (from what I hear) compared to less boisterous tea ceremonies, though equally pricey. Less extravagant and yet more consequential, the aesthetics of inconvenience to be pursued may be engendered by just decreasing the air-conditioner one degree (Japanese houses need to be better insulated anyway), walking an extra distance to the next station, cooking just enough, or simply taking better care of things around our lives. Those kinds of small incremental, everyday actions do add up. Alas, may we feel the seasons or lose a few kilograms, acquire a kind of heightened sense of self and our body finely attuned to the milieu in every sense of the word.
Author: Kaz Yoneda
Editor: Hinako Izuhara
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Thank you for your time and kind attention.
Until next time!