Starting from demolition, building a local circulation system where memory and salvaged material both find their way back
How do you pass down memory from a school slated for demolition? In 2025, the demolition was decided for the former Takashima Dai-7 Elementary School, next to the Takashimadaira housing complex. The school opened in 1979, closed in 2007, and had sat unused for 18 years — and people gathered to spend one last stretch of time together in the building. “It really is lonely, isn't it,” a graduate murmured, picking an old educational-goals notice off the wall. Kaichiku Teiryujo hands over materials, pries up flooring, stays overnight in the closed school, and makes work there — a record of one response to a disappearing place. It reframes demolition not as an ending, but as the point where materials and memory begin to be carried forward into the community.

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In August 2025, it was decided that the former Takashima Seventh Elementary School, located in a corner of the Takashimadaira Housing Complex , would be demolished. The school, which opened in 1979 and closed in 2007, had stood unused for 18 years and was scheduled to be demolished next fiscal year as part of urban planning for the area.
ASIBA, the Takashimadaira Community Development Promotion Division of Itabashi Ward, and ReLink did not want to view this demolition as “the end.”They sought to pass on the materials and the memories they hold to the local community, and to open up the demolition process itself so that many people could participate. They named this concept “Demolition Stop” and devised a plan to carry out the demolition in a festival-like manner.

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First, they held a total of four “demolition ceremonies.” At the second one (in July), the residents themselves dismantled the stair railings.At the third event (October), people of all ages came together to sketch ideas for reusing the building materials and furnishings. At the fourth event (December), we held a “giveaway” to hand over the materials and furnishings to local residents.
“A teacher here told me I was good at drawing, and that’s why I went on to Musashino Art University.“I’m taking this chair from the art room home for my daughter,” said one mother. “I’m going to turn it into a pudding cup. I’ll treasure it as a memento of Seventh Elementary School,” said a woman from the neighborhood who had been gazing at the school building from her balcony all this time. “I’d been looking at it, thinking, ‘The school’s still there.’ It really is sad, isn’t it?” A graduate from Showa 62 picked up a poster listing the school’s educational goals.
Objects serve as catalysts, connecting people of different generations and backgrounds who would not normally interact. When a place faces demolition, these objects take on the role of narrating collective memories.

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On February 13, more than 10 people—including local residents and artists—gathered for the “Peel-Peel Workshop” to physically dismantle the school building’s flooring. The workshop was led by Mr. Yamusa, a craftsman specializing in manual dismantling—a tradition dating back to the Meiji era.Starting with how to hold tools and proper posture, participants learned to apply force precisely after understanding the structure of the joints. This is a technique called “ike-tori ,” which involves recovering materials without damaging them. Rather than the destructive demolition typically imagined, the process involved delicate movements, as if carefully “unraveling” the materials.
Once the floor was stripped away, another floor appeared beneath it—a cross-section of time layered upon time. As they worked, the graduates began sharing their memories of those days.A forestry expert shared information on the species and provenance of the wood used. The very act of dismantling a familiar building took on a “festival-like” character—a dialogue with one’s own memories and an exchange fostered through collaborative work.

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On March 1 and 2, ten artist groups gathered at the abandoned school to hold a two-day, one-night “Abandoned School Art Night.”
Spaces that were filled with people during the day take on a different character at night. You can see all the way to the end of the hallway, light from outside streams in through the classroom windows, and the writing on the blackboard glows in the darkness. Details that went unnoticed when the building was in use only become visible once people have left. The artists walked around freely, sat down, and explored the space.
Since the Art Night, many artists have repeatedly visited the school building and continued creating their works until the very end. Staying overnight in an abandoned school means forming a temporary coexistence with a place that is fading away. It means sharing time with the building before it disappears—and with the time remaining until it does.

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At the grand finale on March 14, 14 works were exhibited.
Marcy performed a “funeral makeup” ritual in one of the classrooms. Teiro reconfigured nameplates and signs collected throughout the school onto the surface of a bench.Morioka used the stained-glass panels from the cafeteria chandelier and flooring from the classrooms to express the legacy of Takashichi Elementary School as it transitions from the past to the future. The Witch of Freedom drew a magical circle for a séance on the floor and sang the school song in unison with the participants.Honda and Nihei, who are also the organizers, attach price tags to and sell furniture and decorative items created through a process of excavating and lightly refining discarded materials—a process they call “salvage.” By deliberately assigning value through the external metric of money, they reexamine the value of the unused school building itself.

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The Kaichiku Stop Project—along with the artists who have joined in support—consists of people who look squarely at the real objects, spaces, and people right before their eyes, continuing to offer small acts of resistance amid an overwhelmingly vast tide of change.Overturning the logic of society is no easy task, but if everyone simply surrenders to the system, too much will be swept away. A response to places that are fading away. There lies an undeniable reality, preserving the memory that objects and people once spent time there. We honor that memory and pass it on to the next generation.
The value of an object is not determined at the moment of its creation. Value is reborn the instant someone seeks to form a connection with it. The materials from this school building are now marking different times in their respective locations.

FIG.9
Demolition Ceremony
Phase 1: Demolition Stop
Phase 2: Demolition Stop
Phase 1: Exhibited Works
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