Tadao Ando: Light and Space, a 2025 monograph from Phaidon, marks a refined continuation of the creative partnership between Japanese architect Tadao Ando and British photographer Richard Pare. Building on their earlier collaboration, The Colours of Light (1996), this new volume serves both as a retrospective and rediscovery. It traces Ando’s evolution over nearly three decades with a particular focus on the role of light—whether natural, reflected, or deliberately withheld—in shaping his spaces.
Ando’s path to becoming one of the world’s most celebrated architects is both unconventional and inspiring. Born in Osaka in 1941 and raised by his great-grandmother, Ando never attended architecture school. Instead, he taught himself by traveling across continents, sketching churches, temples, and ruins, and absorbing the essence of places both ancient and modern. This autodidactic spirit informs his work, grounding it in lived experience and careful observation rather than textbooks or theory.
At the heart of the book is a careful curation of 28 projects from across the world, ranging from Church in the Forest in Yeoju, Gyeonggi-do, South Korea to Bosco Studio & House in Oaxaca, Mexico, and Punta della Dogana in Venice. These buildings span continents and cultures but are united by Ando’s signature blend of restraint, material simplicity, and profound spatial sensitivity. Many of the photographs are previously unpublished, lending a sense of freshness and discovery even for long-time admirers of Ando’s work.
Richard Pare’s photographs do more than just document these buildings; they interpret them. His images mirror the quiet clarity of Ando’s architecture. He is attuned to how light flows through a space at different times of day, how shadows anchor or dissolve form, and how a wall—bare and monochrome—can carry emotional weight when framed with precision. Unlike conventional architectural photography that often leans into spectacle, Pare’s work invites stillness and reflection. The reader is encouraged to slow down and take in each detail.
The design of the book reflects the values of its subject. It’s oversized but understated. The layouts are spare, with generous white space and immersive gatefolds that offer expanded presentations of key images. The inclusion of four original drawings by Ando—reproduced on translucent tissue paper—offers an intimate window into his design process, bridging the conceptual and the physical. An appendix at the end offers detailed project information, including plans and short descriptive texts, grounding the visual experience with helpful context.
The book opens with a foreword by Ando, wherein he reflects on the enduring impact of his visit to Le Corbusier’s chapel at Ronchamp and the realization that architecture could be “realized solely through aspiration toward the light.” That insight remains the philosophical through-line on the pages that follow. Whether it’s the glow of natural daylight entering through a slit in concrete or the diffused luminescence of an interior courtyard, light is never an afterthought in Ando’s architecture—it is the central figure.
This idea is reinforced by an introductory essay from architect Dominique Perrault, which highlights Ando’s unique ability to blend Eastern philosophical traditions with modernist rigor, creating buildings that are both timeless and site-specific. His architecture may appear minimalist, but it’s never cold or abstract. Instead, it engages the senses and spirit.
What sets Light and Space apart from other Ando monographs, including its predecessor The Colours of Light, is its scope and maturity. The earlier book largely focused on Ando’s Japanese projects from the 1980s and early 1990s—a period of innovation and refinement in his career. By contrast, Light and Space captures a moreglobal Ando: an architect working with international clients, navigating diverse climates, materials, and cultural contexts, yet staying true to his principles and ethos. This expanded range gives the book a unique richness and underscores how Ando’s architectural language adapts and transforms without losing its essence.
There’s also a noticeable depth to these later projects. They’re not just technically sophisticated or aesthetically beautiful—they’re profoundly human. His residential designs feel less like luxury homes and more like sanctuaries. A museum in Naoshima is not so much a building, but a landscape carved out of concrete and light. Even his urban interventions, like the Bourse de Commerce in Paris, reveal an almost sacred respect for space and history.
For students of architecture, Tadao Ando: Light and Space offers a masterclass in spatial composition, material expression, and conceptual integrity. For art lovers, it presents a body of work that bridges sculpture and structure, light and mass. Even if you’re not immersed in the world of architecture, the book is easy to appreciate. If you’ve ever walked through a temple or stood in a sunlit room and felt your breath slow, you already know. Ando’s work reminds us that good design isn’t just about what you see; it’s about what you feel.
