This audio is generated by AI, so pronunciation and expressions may not be fully accurate. The narration is only in English.
Sugizaki's fascination with station buildings began in 1985, when he was commissioned to photograph stations for a book covering locations across Japan. As he gradually took on interview work and researched their architectural styles and historical contexts, he found himself drawn deeply into their world.
"I was obsessed only with riding trains when I was young, but the more I learned, the more I woke up to how fascinating station buildings are," Sugizaki recalls. "On rural lines, waiting two or three hours for a connecting train is nothing unusual. Spend that long at a station, and you start noticing every detail—even recognizing the faces of the cats that wander by."
Born in the Kansai region in western Japan and raised in Yokosuka, south of Tokyo, Sugizaki still vividly recalls the somewhat sci-fi mood around Shinjuku Station's West Exit and Shibuya Station when he moved to Tokyo for university in the 1970s.
At the time, Shinjuku Station was a lively gathering place for young people. Sugizaki recalls being overwhelmed by how the West Concourse intersected with the ground level in a multi-layered way, framed by imposing urban station buildings and corporate towers. Shibuya Station, he notes, had a different feel altogether; he was struck by its sci-fi quality, especially the sight of a subway train suddenly surfacing and then being drawn straight into the second floor of the station building.
A dense web of subway lines spans central Tokyo, ringed by the JR Yamanote Line, the city's main loop. On November 1, 2025, the Yamanote Line celebrated the 100th anniversary of its loop operation.
"A century ago, Tokyo was still Tokyo Prefecture. City-operated streetcars ran all across the area inside the Yamanote Line, which meant private railways couldn't extend their lines inward," Sugizaki explains. "That's why Tobu Railway went as far as Ikebukuro, Seibu reached Shinjuku and Ikebukuro, Tokyu extended to Shibuya,
Meguro, and Gotanda, and Keikyu to Shinagawa, and so on. As a result, major transfer hubs emerged at stations along the Yamanote Line. And now, as private railways connect directly with the subway network, those hubs have grown even larger. In fact, it is hard to find another city in the world with so many large, multimodal interchange points."
Sugizaki notes that each major transfer hub has its own atmosphere, and the surrounding neighborhoods take on a character that reflects it. This variety, he says, is part of what makes Tokyo so compelling—and it underscores just how deeply significant and appealing station architecture is.
Sugizaki stresses that station architecture matters because it can shape the urban experience and carries untapped potential, especially through design. He explains that during the Japan National Railways era, regional stations typically had platforms for freight trains, so functionality took precedence due to their role in moving goods. By contrast, urban stations such as those in Tokyo mainly handled passengers, which gave architects far more freedom in planning interior space—and that design emphasis, he says, is one of their major attractions.
Having sharpened his eye by visiting station buildings nationwide, Sugizaki points to three he especially recommends in Tokyo. The first is Asakusa Station, set within the historic Asakusa district—a destination popular with international visitors.
"It's Tobu Railway's starting point, and its beauty really feels like a symbol of Tokyo modernism—the nighttime view is especially striking," Sugizaki says. "It rises like the bow of a great ship where the main avenue splits. Step through the front entrance and go up the stairs, and you arrive directly at the platform. What makes it unusual is that five tracks are housed inside the building itself, allowing an entire six-car train to pull completely into the structure."
"It has the feel of a wooden mountain lodge, and it was built in 1944—right in the middle of World War II," Sugizaki explains. "Although it's a JR station today, it was run by a private railway operator at the time. The idea of constructing it then, on the belief that the area would one day draw hikers and become a tourist spot, shows remarkable ambition—and it's fascinating. In fact, it really is popular with climbers now, including international visitors. And at 343 meters above sea level—almost the same height as Tokyo Tower—it's also the highest station building in Tokyo."
The third station Sugizaki recommends is the former Hakubutsukan Dobutsuen (literally "museum-zoo") Station, once located in Ueno Park, another popular visitor destination. It opened in 1933 as a Keisei Electric Railway subway stop and went through repeated closures and reopenings over the years. It was fully decommissioned in 2004, mainly because longer trains could no longer fit along its platform.
"It was a subway stop, so strictly speaking it wasn't a station building," Sugizaki says. "But the entrance that remains above ground is a Western-style concrete structure, almost like a scaled-down National Diet Building, and in 2018 it was designated a Tokyo Metropolitan Government Selected Historical Structure. Its solemn façade really is worth seeing. When you consider that most subway entrances are little more than exposed staircases with a simple roof, this one is remarkably rare and valuable."
These station buildings offer a glimpse into Tokyo's history, culture, and evolution—and that is another part of their appeal.
