Not all buildings need to shout. If you are a typical reader of Architectural Record, you might conclude that most contemporary architecture speaks assertively, even independently of its surroundings. Bold, inventive architecture maintains ascendancy, while finesse or urban fit seem to have been relegated to second-class status. What has happened to the refined, respectful urban solution? New York’s recently reopened Museum of Modern Art proves that skill and subtlety are still thriving.

In weaving together a disparate smattering of parts that the Modern had become, including the Philip Johnson and Cesar Pelli additions, the architect, Yoshio Taniguchi, faced formidable obstacles. Initially, he lacked recognition by a star-crazed public; few in the United States knew his work, since the architect had built almost nothing outside Japan. But his patience and tenacity, legendary among his peers, had produced a painstaking body of work, significant for its perfection of detail and devotion to scale and proportion. Taniguchi’s work has refined the International Style, forged in Europe (and at the Modern), and honed it to a classic, minimal language that clarifies Modernism. His projects, like the Museum of the Horyuji Treasures [RECORD June 2002, page 90], unfold like origami, offering a procession of sensory experiences in three-dimensional, interlocking space.