In the foothills of Oregon’s Wallowa Mountains, a traditional Japanese kominka—constructed from reclaimed materials sourced in Aichi Prefecture—stands as a rare example of cross-Pacific architectural preservation. The home, completed in 2024, was assembled using components salvaged from old Japanese houses that would otherwise face demolition due to Japan’s declining population and housing abandonment. Owned by Kiyomi Koike and her husband, Bill Oliver, the 800-square-foot residence blends traditional Japanese design elements such as shoji screens, tatami mats, and post-and-beam wooden framing with its rural American setting.

The project required overcoming considerable challenges. Ms. Koike, originally from Aichi Prefecture, and Mr. Oliver, a former Wallowa County planning director, navigated complex municipal permitting, structural engineering adaptations, and the logistics of shipping centuries-old timber and architectural components across the Pacific Ocean. The endeavor involved collaboration among Toda Komuten, a Japanese architecture firm; Kominka Collective, a preservation nonprofit; and Devco Engineering, an Oregon-based structural firm.

Ms. Koike, who has incorporated wellness activities such as tea ceremonies into the house’s use as a part-time residence and rental property, emphasized the calming spatial qualities of the kominka’s proportions, natural materials, and minimalist design. The couple note that their home may be the only privately owned residential kominka in the United States, though several others exist in museum or cultural settings, including a notable 320-year-old structure at the Huntington Museum in California.

Kominka, traditional private Japanese homes typically built before World War II, represent a vanishing architectural heritage in Japan. Their distinctive features—post-and-beam construction, sliding doors, tatami flooring, and translucent paper screens—are increasingly undervalued, particularly given Japan’s population decline and stringent earthquake standards. At least nine million houses remain vacant in rural areas, with many kominka deemed expensive or impractical to maintain, resulting in widespread abandonment and demolition.

Preservation efforts have intensified amid these losses. Groups like Kominka Collective work to salvage architectural components, often exporting them for reuse abroad. Andrea Carlson, co-founder of Kominka Collective, described the cultural and material destruction inherent in tearing these homes down and sees export as a preservation alternative when restoration in Japan is not feasible.

At Toda Komuten’s warehouse near Shinshiro, Japan, workers prepare wooden beams, ridgepoles, plaster doors, and other materials from dismantled kominka for shipment overseas. The firm, led by Yoshinobu Toda, a fourth-generation architect, has embraced exporting these traditional elements as a strategy to conserve Japanese timber architecture by adapting it for use in other countries’ climates and building codes. Koji Toda, an architect at the firm, noted that while these materials are often considered scrap in Japan, they are treated as valuable antiques abroad.

This export trend is evident in the United States, where interest in authentic kominka has grown among architects and clients seeking unique, historically rich homes or cultural spaces. In New England, timber framer Billy Dillon, who founded Kominka North America, has overseen the disassembly, import, and reconstruction of traditional Japanese wooden houses. Clients include individuals aiming to create homes featuring original hand-marked beams, Japanese cultural centers, and developers planning themed spas or accessory dwelling units.

Prices for importing and rebuilding kominka can reach $500,000 or more, reflecting the complexity and craftsmanship involved. Despite the challenges, advocates see this approach as a way to rescue Japan’s disappearing heritage while providing distinctive architectural experiences abroad. The juxtaposition of ancient Japanese woodwork in American landscapes underscores both the loss in Japan and the growing appreciation for these structures elsewhere.