Goldfish Phone Booth: How Obsolete Public Infrastructure Gets a Second Life Through Art

In 2011, a strange sight appeared on the streets of Osaka. An old phone booth, a piece of public infrastructure that should have been demolished or left to decay, was filled with water. Goldfish swam between the handset and the coin slot.

This wasn't an accident. It was the work of Kingyobu (the Goldfish Club). A group of students from Kyoto University of the Arts, wearing red jumpsuits, transformed a soon-to-be-decommissioned phone booth into a swimming aquarium.

Their work existed for only a limited time. But the question it raised endures to this day: when technology makes something obsolete, does that thing truly lose all value?

The Making: More Engineered Than You'd Think

Turning a phone booth into an aquarium isn't as simple as pouring water into it.

Kingyobu's first step was complete waterproofing. The door frame, glass edges, bottom seams: every possible leak point needed to be sealed. This was precision engineering work, because phone booths were never designed to hold water.

After waterproofing was complete, the original phone and seat were kept in place. Then water was pumped in through hoses. As the water level rose, the phone's handset floated to the surface, like a call that would never be answered. Finally, the goldfish were introduced. They began swimming between the coin slot and the keypad, and a space that once belonged to human communication was claimed by animals.

The design decision to preserve the original equipment was deliberate. If they'd removed the phone before filling it with water, it would just be a phone booth-shaped fish tank. But keeping the phone, seat, and coin slot lets viewers see two time layers simultaneously: the past (the phone booth's function) and the present (the aquarium's function). Time was folded into a single space.

Why Goldfish

Goldfish have over a thousand years of history in Japanese culture. Since the Nara period, goldfish have been a common subject in Japanese art and festivals. The summer goldfish scooping game (kingyo sukui) is one of the most iconic activities at Japanese festivals. Goldfish represent summer, childhood, and a kind of exquisite, fleeting beauty.

Choosing goldfish over other fish added an extra layer of cultural meaning. It wasn't just 'animals occupying a human space.' It was 'a symbol of Japanese tradition occupying a symbol of Japanese modernization.' Goldfish (tradition) moved into the phone booth (modern technology). When modern technology became obsolete, tradition found a new home.

A Second Life for Public Infrastructure

The goldfish phone booth was part of the Osaka Canvas Project art festival. The festival's mission was to use public spaces in the city for artistic creation. But the goldfish phone booth's impact far exceeded the festival itself.

Its photos were shared millions of times on social media. It was covered by dozens of media outlets worldwide. It became the visual face of the 'public infrastructure repurposing' conversation.

This issue is especially significant in Japan. With the spread of smartphones, the number of public phone booths in Japan dropped from roughly 730,000 in 2000 to fewer than 150,000 in 2023. These obsolete facilities occupy public space but no longer serve any function. They are 'dead objects' in the city.

The goldfish phone booth proposed a radical alternative: what if we didn't demolish them, but gave them an entirely new function? Not a communication function, but an aesthetic one. Not serving humans, but serving the city's landscape.

What You Didn't Know: This Artwork Sparked a Legal Dispute

The goldfish phone booth was not without controversy. In 2018, a similar goldfish phone booth installation appeared in Yamatokoriyama, Nara Prefecture. A local artist claimed it was their independent creation. But members of Kingyobu believed it infringed on their original concept.

The dispute never reached court, but it raised a fascinating legal question: can you copyright a 'concept'? Is 'raising goldfish in a phone booth' a protected artistic concept, or a public idea that anyone can execute?

Under Japanese copyright law, what's protected is 'expression,' not 'ideas.' But when an idea is so unique that any execution of it would be associated with the original creator, the line between 'idea' and 'expression' becomes blurred.

What's Obsolete Doesn't Have to Be Forgotten

The deepest meaning of the goldfish phone booth may not be about art or public infrastructure. It may be about the concept of 'obsolescence' itself.

We live in an age of constant obsolescence. Old phones are replaced by new phones. Old apps are replaced by new apps. Old ways of working are replaced by AI. 'Obsolescence' usually means 'the end.' Obsolete things are sent to recycling centers, warehouses, or junkyards.

But the goldfish phone booth says: obsolescence doesn't have to be the end. It can be the beginning of transformation. A phone booth that can no longer make calls can become an unprecedented aquarium. Something that has lost its original function can gain a new function its original designer never imagined.

In the water between the goldfish and the phone handset, obsolescence became rebirth. And that may be the lesson most worth remembering in 2025: when a door closes, a goldfish might grow inside.