In Learning from Las Vegas (1972), architects Robert Venturi, Denise Scott Brown and Steven Izenour introduced the now-famous distinction between ‘ducks' and 'decorated sheds'—two opposing typologies that define how buildings express their purpose through their form. A ‘duck’ is an architecture-as-symbol, where the form itself explicitly conveys meaning—think of a diner shaped like a cup placed on a saucer. Conversely, a ‘decorated shed’ is a more generic structure that relies on applied signage and symbolic ornamentation to convey its function—such as highway hotels or roadside movie theatres fronted by twinkling neon signs. This theory, originally coined and applied by the architects to analyse the bold, eccentric commercial spectacle of Las Vegas in the 1960s and 1970s, finds an unexpected but succinct parallel in Japan’s peculiar love hotels or ラブホテル, rabu hoteru in Japanese.

From cake-shaped two-storeys to cartoony castles and Disney-esque ships, Parisian photographer François Prost captures the facade designs of these kitsch (bordering on garish) roadside establishments in all their flashy variety and glory, in his latest offering, Love Hotel. This series of photographs, now turned into an eponymously titled book published by Fisheye Editions, reveal some hotels that are clearly ducks: UFOs, cruise ships or tropical retreats—architecture as a pure fantasy for amatory activities. Some others are decorated sheds, relying on neon scripts and suggestive branding (or literal heart-shaped symbols) to communicate their purpose of hosting private time-spending. Together, these simply declare themselves and create a bricolage urban landscape where spaces of intimacy meet spectacle and where architecture becomes a tool for expression and escapism.

For context, these short-stay hotels, which one can rent (often for cheap) for an hour or two to ‘rest’ in, were initially designed to proffer judgement-free rooms for Japanese couples "to conduct their amorous activities given the lack of privacy within the small family home. The Love Hotels offer a room extension dedicated to the act of love, far removed from family considerations,” as the project’s press release states. 

Captured by the award-winning, Paris-based photographer and art director in 2023 during a road trip between Tokyo and Shikoku Island, Love Hotel unveils a 'vernacular portrait of Japan' involving several hundred images (some of which partake in this photo essay) of these wayside, faded signs flanking, placed near, upon or atop these violently coloured walls and fantastical forms of Japanese architecture.

According to the Lyon-born photographer, these establishments are ubiquitous in Japan and have become cultural fixtures, with estimates suggesting anywhere between 10,000 and 40,000 dotting the nation. Their unusual, eye-catching, almost crude elevations are loud invitations designed to appeal to youngsters (or whoever, honestly—no judgments). “The venues aim to evoke a sense of romance, escape and fantasy, yet they also need to feel safe and inviting—not tacky or sordid. It’s why some of these places have an almost ‘Disney-like’ aesthetic, playful yet carefully curated,” Prost notes. "One theme that stood out to me across multiple locations was the recurring use of boat replicas—huge ships, often docked in front of the hotel. I think it’s a way to evoke the sense of cruising into a love paradise, with a subtle nod to Japan’s rich maritime history," he continues.

“From the outrageous urbanisation of the big megalopolises to the orderly agricultural countryside, the landscapes pass through the prism of the facades of these establishments, emblematic of Japanese popular culture,” the press release mentions.

Love hotels are a unique and deeply ingrained part of Japanese culture, offering a fascinating glimpse into Japanese society. These have a very ‘talkative’ quality visually—they're expressive in their design, reflecting aspects of local culture, values and even fantasies. – François Prost, Parisian photographer

This project began during Prost’s trip to Japan in 2023, where he was invited to exhibit his Gentlemen’s Club series at the agnès b. gallery, which encouraged him to develop a new project while there. Documenting the vibrant facades of these love hotels felt like a natural progression, as it built on his previous work capturing the exteriors of American strip clubs and nightclubs in Ivory Coast, France and Spain. Across his projects, his approach remains consistent, viewing these as landscape photography. He focuses on venues with distinctive, often kitschy roadside architecture, selecting a specific type in each country and photographing them with uniform framing.

"This allows me to create a portrait of a country through the lens of its vernacular architecture. I’m drawn to the aesthetic of these places, and how their facades reveal something about the people who inhabit or frequent them,” Prost explains.

The photographer encountered more recurring themes in these contemporary architectures in his travels: for instance, he came across many named 'Water Gate', another nautical reference, apart from castle replicas popular in the 1960s and 70s, reflecting the era’s architectural trends. Another unique aspect is franponais—French-inspired names “that don’t always have a real meaning but are used for their romantic or sophisticated sound,” a phenomenon very particular to Japanese culture. In recent years, many love hotels have also adopted a Balinese aesthetic with bamboo and tropical motifs—a design language geared towards appealing to younger generations. These spaces now serve not just for romance but also for socialising, karaoke and parties, straddling the distinction between love hotels and entertainment venues in the nation; its primary purpose of offering guests privacy for sex evolving into a more hybrid classification.

“I hope viewers are struck by the incredible attention to detail and devotion to design that defines these spaces in Japan. It’s a unique aspect of Japanese culture—the way even the most ordinary, ‘roadside’ venues are crafted with such care and creativity. This project highlights a side of Japan that often goes unnoticed,” Prost remarks.

The book’s foreword, written by Agnès Troublé, founder of the agnès b. gallery, rightly summarises, “Kitsch and poetic, the ‘Love Hotels’ were originally a place where couples could move around more freely than in wooden and paper houses with futons on the floor and everyone sleeping together!... They became simple places for ‘OFF’ meetings of official or casual lovers. The façades so well reproduced in broad daylight in their ‘crudeness’, their ‘naivety’ by our friend Prost...Kitsch is a change of scenery... walls in shades of orangey-pink, palm trees, soft light that rises flush with the walls... It’s anonymous, discreet, comfortable... You can see that our Japanese friends like a change of scenery and all these façades bear witness to this. New ‘temples of love’, they are often calls to ‘travel’. Cruise ships, castles, cakes... in any case ‘gourmands’ to eat and drink, the facades are there to entice…”

A photographic journey encapsulating the cultural significance of these cheeky Japanese establishments, Prost’s Love Hotel seems to uncover something more profound than aesthetics. This visual commentary indulging in these joie d'esprit edifices, with their exuberant façades and coded messages, holds up a mirror to a culture where privacy is prized and sought out, but desire is writ large across the cityscape.

The book will be launched at the opening of the 'Love Hotel' exhibition on view from March 20 - May 18, 2025, at Galerie du Jour - Agnès b. (Place Jean-Michel Basquiat, 75013, Paris, France), with an opening on March 19.