Notes - Designing Design

Kenya Hara | December 31, 2025

Chapter 1: RE-DESIGN — Daily Products of the 21st Century

Making the Ordinary Unknown

Kenya Hara defines "re-design" as the act of redoing the design of ordinary, familiar objects to look at them as if for the very first time. This experimental attempt aims to correct and renew our feelings about the essence of design, which is often hidden within objects so familiar that we can no longer truly "see" them. While creating something from scratch is a recognized form of creativity, Hara argues that making the known unknown is also a vital act of creation that helps define what design actually is. The 21st century is characterized as an age of discovery where we part ways with mere stimulation to look at the astonishingly fine designs already nestled in our daily lives with clear eyes.

Art and Design

Hara distinguishes design from art by its social origin. While art is an expression of an individual’s will and its source is known only to the artist, design originates iniety. The essence of design lies in discovering a shared problem and attempting to solve it so that anyone can understand the solution and the process. Design is driven by empathy and common values, whereas art is the act of discovering a fresh human spirit through the manipulation of objects perceptible by sensory organs.

RE-DESIGN Exhibition

In April 2000, Hara produced an exhibition featuring 32 Japanese creators from various fields—architecture, advertising, literature, and fashion—tasked with designing anew ordinary commodities. The goal was not to "improve" mature products but to decipher the essence of design by observing the gap between conventional products and the creators' new proposals.

Shigeru Ban and Toilet Paper: Ban designed toilet paper with a square core. When pulled, the square roll resists and makes a clunky "kata-kata-kata" sound, unlike the smooth "suuh-suuh" of round rolls. This resistance delivers a message to economize resources; furthermore, re rolls save space by fitting together perfectly during transportation and storage.
Masahiko Sato and Entry/Exit Stamps: Sato redesigned airport passport stamps with a graphic of an airplane pointing right for entry and left for exit. This solution transforms a routine office procedure into a moment of hospitality and an "ah-ha!" experience for the traveler.
Kengo Kuma and the Roach Trap: Kuma replaced the typical "house-shaped" roach trap with a roll of translucent adhesive tape. This allows the trap to be cut to size and folded into a thin tube that fits into narrow crevices, capturing pests within a form of functional beauty rather than a gimmicky "home" aesthetic.
Kaoru Mende and Matches: Mende proposed matches made from natural twigs with combustible tips. This design asks users to consider the ancient relationship between humans and fire, placing the symbol of creation and destructive power literally in the palm of one's hand.
Kosuke Tsumura and Diapers: Tsumura addressed adult incontinence by designing fashionable diapers styled like trunks. By categorizing various garments by absorption levels (level 1 for shirts, level 3 for trunks/diapers), he aimed to remove the psychological resistance and loss of dignity associated with wearing products that traditionally look like they are for babies.
Naoto Fukasawa and Tea Bags: Fukasawa applied the theory of "affordance," which designs for subconscious behavior. He created a tea bag with a colored ring on the string that matches the color of perfectly brewed tea. This allows the user to judge the strength of the tea intuitively through comparison without needing explicit instructions.

The Architects’ Macaroni Exhibition

Hara views macaroni as "edible architecture" because its shape is dictated by complex criteria: heat conduction (hollow tubes cook evenly), sauce retention (grooves and surface area), and ease of production. In 1995, he challenged 20 architects to design eir own versions. Examples included Norihide Imagawa's "SHE & HE" icons that warp during boiling to suggest eroticism, and Tadasu Ohe's "WAVE" series designed to hold broth within cosmic ripples.

Chapter 2: HAPTIC — Awakening the Senses

Designing the Senses

The term "haptic" refers to the sense of touch, but in this context, it represents an attitude toward how we perceive the world. Hara proposes that design should not just be about creating forms or colors, but about awakening the human sensors, a field he calls "the design of the senses". He views human beings as a "bundle of senses" where organs like the skin, eyes, and ears are active, positive "tentacles" exploring the world rather than passive receptors.

The HAPTIC Exhibition

In 2004, Hara challenged participants from multidisciplinary fields to design objects motivated primarily by haptic considerations, prohibiting any sketching during the initial phase.

Naoto Fukasawa (Juice Skin): Fukasawa designed frt juice packages that mimic the skin of the fruit they contain, such as a fuzzy kiwi-textured box and a banana-peel package. These designs manipulate textures stored in the user's memory to "build" an image of the fruit in the mind.
Toyo Ito (Gel Doorknob): Ito created a doorknob made of "hydro-gel" that feels soft and "squish[y]" when grasped. This "haptic abstract" acknowledges the physical reality of the human body—which sweats and grows hair—within otherwise abstract architectural spaces.
Panasonic (Gel Remote Control): This remote control "breathes" while off, with its belly rising and falling. When a hand approaches, it solidifies to a perfect hardness for use and begins to glow, focusing entirely on the tactile experience rather than button layout.
Shuhei Hasado (Geta): A plasterer by trade, Hasado covered traditional Japanese sandals with saturated moss and pine forest floors. This design aims to revive the dormant sensitivity in the soles of thet, which were once the primary interface between humans and the ground.
Kengo Kuma (Snakeskin Paper Towel): Kuma developed extremely thin washi paper embossed with a snakeskin texture. By imbuing a disposable item with haptic luxury, the object gains a memorable value that makes users feel "elite" when drying their hands.
Kenya Hara (Water Pachinko): Hara used super-hydrophobic paper (which uses the "lotus effect" to repel water) to create a game where water droplets move like silent, globular pinballs. He also applied this technology to a non-electric humidifier where the aggregated surface area of thousands of tiny water spheres dramatically increases vaporization speed.

Events on the Skin

Hara references physicist Hermann Ludwig Helmholtz's statement that "everything is an event on the skin," noting that sight, hearing, smell, and taste are all essentially responses of delicate membranes. He argues that our consciousness is formed by bundling sensory stimuli together with memories. For example, we can imagine the taste of a table or the feel of mossy sandals without actual experience because we have built a mountain of internally stored memories since infancy. Hara posits that the "information stress" of modern society is not due to a quantity of data, but a limited quality of sensory experience, as we spend too much time in virtual spaces rather than engaging our physical bodies.

Chapter 3: SENSEWARE—Medium That Intrigues Man

What Evokes the Senses

The term "senseware" refers to any familiar object that inspires sensory perceptions. This concept uses "ware" in the same way it is used in "hardware" or "software" to categorize tools that trigger the human senses. Stone implements from the Stone Age serve as prime examples of senseware; handling a 400,000-year-old stone axe reveals how its weight, hardness, and texture inspired the senses that drove early human culture. Today, paper occupies a similar role, acting as a medium that incites a physical impulse to create.

A White, Tense Material

Paper is an extraordinary material characterized by its glittering whiteness and a unique tensile state or tautness. While most of the natural world is earth-colored, white manifests in rare objects like bones, minerals, and snow, imbuing the material with a sense of immaculate silence and "embryo-like possibilities". When ancestors first drew symbols on white paper with black ink, it sparked the most important awakening of the senses in human history. Even in an age dominated by electronic media, paper remains a perpetual medium of intelligence that tickles the senses and fosters creativity.

Architecture of Information

Design can be defined as the field of sensory perceptions, where the designer orchestrates an image in the human brain through multiple stimuli and revived memories. A designer creates an "architecture of information" within the mind of a recipient, using both external inputs from sensory organs and internal building blocks from the recipient's memory. This process is intentional and calculated, treating the human being as an information recipient whose mind exists everywhere in the body.

The Programs for the Nagano Winter Olympic Games

For the 1998 Nagano Winter Olympic Games, the programs were designed to act as a "medium of memory" for the participants. To evoke the feeling of the winter festivities, a special white, puffy paper was developed. When a heated mold was applied to the cover, the fibers partially melted, making the debossed letters become translucent like ice. This design was a trigger intended to invoke the memory of treading on fresh snow, where footprints reveal semi-translucent ice or dark soil beneath the surface.

Signage System for a Clinic

The signage for Umeda Hospital, a facility for obstetrics and pediatrics, was crafted entirely from white cloth. The choice of material was intended to create an affable space for nursing mothers, moving away from the tense atmosphere of typical hospitals. The white cotton signs are designed like socks or shower caps with elastic bands, making them easy to remove and launder. By choosing a material that soils easily and committing to keeping it perfectly white, the hospital communicates a message of supreme cleanliness and dedication to hygiene to its patients. At the Katta Civic Polyclinic, the signage system utilized large type inlaid directly into the white linoleum floor to help elderly patients recognize paths and memorize the facility layout.

Matsuya Ginza Renewal Project

The renewal of the Matsuya Department Store focused on restructuring the physical space as "palpable media" rather than relying on conventional advertising. The project shifted the store's corporate color from bright blue to "tangible white," using white paper embossed with the store's logo as a base to provide depth and modernity. During construction, a colossal zipper image was placed on the exterior enclosures, unzipping little by little as a simile for fashion to raise public anticipation. The finished exterior used arrayed convex dots on glass-plated aluminum panels to reflect light at night, creating graceful textures.

Nagasaki Prefectural Art Museum: Visual Identification

For the Nagasaki Prefectural Art Museum, the identification system was inspired by the architecture's vertical stone louvers. The museum’s symbol is a motion graphic that moves like ripples in water, reflecting the site's seaside environment. The entrance sign features two comb-like layers placed in parallel, creating an optical illusion of flicker and interference as visitors walk by. Additionally, three-dimensional arrows were thrust directly into walls or set floating in space to provide true indicative function.

Swatch Group and Books as Information Sculpture

The Nicolas G. Hayek Center utilizes a signage system where a projector embedded in the ceiling casts a simple image of a wristwatch onto the floor. When a passerby catches the reflection, the bright, clear image of a watch appears in their palm, creating the physical experience of "catching time".

In the realm of book design, Hara views books as "information sculpture". Rather than seeing paper as just a neutral surface for writing, it should be appreciated for its materiality—the weight and texture that pleases the fingertips. Information is compared to a soft-boiled egg; while digital memory can store data in bulk, the human "personal appetite" for information is most satisfied when it is served with the appropriate weight, material, and texture.

Chapter 4: WHITE

White as a Design Concept

In design, white is not just a color but a design concept. It represents the controlling of difference, where meaning is woven out of the smallest, first differences in a delicate tapestry. While the world is an abundance of color, the designer focuses on the color of the material itself, which often leads to an awareness of white as a color from which other colors have escaped.

Discovering White

Whiteness is born from the receptivity that senses it; therefore, one cannot look for white but must search for a way of feeling that senses it. This receptivity allows our consciousness to perceive meanings like "tranquility" or "emptiness". White is characterized by its fragility and the fact that it is easily soiled; it is perceived as more beautiful because of our empathy toward things that are transient. In design, white often provides a margin that possesses a stronger presence than the content itself.

The Implicit Color and Traditional Senses

Modern physics organizes color into clear systems like Munsell or Ostwald, yet humans do not sense color purely as a physical phenomenon. Instead, color is sensed as an amalgamation of perceptions, including texture, taste, and smell—such as the "russet color of tea" or the "glossy freshness of a yolk". In the Heian period of Japan, the culture developed a delicate sensitivity to the transitions of nature, known as setsugetsuka (snow, moon, flowers), using them as pretexts for colors in clothing and goods. White is one of these traditional Japanese colors, but it is strikingly distinctive because it represents the color of kizen, the moment of implicit action before something happens.

Escaping Color and Negative Entropy

White is a synthesis of all colors and, simultaneously, a lack of color. Because it avoids color, it more strongly awakens materiality and is "pregnant with time and space," entailing abstract concepts like absolute zero. In terms of physics, if the world is a chaos of jumbled colors tending toward gray (an increase in entropy), white is the extremity of negative entropy. White breaks through the gravity of degeneration to become the ultimate idiosyncrasy.

Original Forms and Etymology

The Chinese character for "white" is believed to have developed from the hieroglyph for "skull". In ancient societies, sun-bleached bones and shells abandoned in fields or on seashores gave the impression of white as a trace of life. White exists on the periphery of life, such as in the whiteness of breast milk, which carries nourishment and passes life from parent to offspring. Similarly, eggs are often white, housing a real life until it breaks through the shell to enter the journey toward the chaotic, colored world. In graphic design, white acts like a map, providing a figurative representation that rises from chaotic gray.

Chapter 5: MUJI: Nothing, Yet Everything

Visualizing the MUJI Concept

Kenya Hara serves as MUJI’s art director and a member of its advisory board, roles focused on empowering the brand concept to meet a global context. Born in the Japanese market in the 1980s, MUJI has evolved from a localized experiment into a practical project that addresses modern issues of manufacturing, resources, and the environment. MUJI’s unique perspective intervenes in the making of things to offer an aesthetic of simplicity and human rationality as an alternative to a world driven by capital and appetite.

What Ikko Tanaka Passed on to Me

In August 2001, MUJI’s first art director, Ikko Tanaka, passed his role to Hara. Tanaka wished to transition the brand to a new generation and expressed that the work was so fascinating it "kept [him] up at night". Hara suggested that product designer Naoto Fukasawa also join the board to help restructure MUJI’s product quality. This "passing of the baton" occurred just three days before Tanaka's sudden death.

MUJI’s Origin, MUJI’s Challenge

MUJI was established in 1980 as a private brand of the Seiyu supermarket, founded on the rapport between Tanaka’s aesthetics and Seiji Tsutsumi’s vision. The original slogan, "Lower Priced for a Reason," highlighted the goal of creating straightforward, low-cost items by simplifying production. A famous example of this is "Broken Dried Shiitake Mushrooms," which sold imperfect mushroom caps that were previously discarded, shifting priorities from appearance to flavor and function. Similarly, the use of unbleached paper for packaging resulted in a pale beige color that skipped unnecessary chemical processes. Today, the challenge is to move beyond mere "cheapness" to a "global rational value" that maintains high quality through sophisticated design.

Acceptance, not Appetite

MUJI does not aim to incite intense desire or "appetite" in consumers (the feeling of "I simply must have this"). Instead, it seeks to provide "acceptance," a level of satisfaction described by the phrase "this will do". While "this will do" might imply slight resignation, MUJI’s goal is to raise the level of this acceptance to a point of self-confidence and clarity. This philosophy advocates for the rational use of resources and objects, positioning MUJI between the two typical market categories of "idiosyncratic and expensive" and "ordinary and cheap".

Emptiness

The core concept for MUJI’s advertising is "emptiness". Unlike traditional advertising that delivers a lucid message, MUJI offers an "empty vessel" that allows the audience to supply their own meaning. Hara compares this to the Japanese national flag, where the red circle is a simple geometric figure that accommodates various valid interpretations—from a symbol of peace to a pickled plum on rice. Another example is the Shinto offering box, which facilitates a divine exchange without providing a tangible gift, relying instead on the thoughts the worshipper deposits into the empty space.

Placing the Logo on the Horizon

The 2003 ad campaign used photographs of the horizon to visualize the concept of emptiness. The horizon represents an unobstructed view of heaven and earth, functioning as a symbolic image that can accommodate all inhabitants' ideas. To find a "perfect" horizon line, the team traveled to the Uyuni salt lake in Bolivia and the prairies of Mongolia. In Bolivia, the dried-up salt field provided a vast, white, 360-degree view where the sky reflected in thin layers of water like a flawless mirror, creating an illusion of another planet.

House

The 2004 campaign used the keyword "house" to encourage users to think about how they live. MUJI promotes "editing" and "infill" rather than just construction; it views a living space as something that should be independently shaped by the resident over time. The "wooden house" and "concrete house" are products intended to be a lifestyle produced by editing the entire range of MUJI goods, from doorknobs to furniture. The goal is to discover rational housing styles compatible with individual lifestyles, such as Tokujin Yoshioka’s proposal for a spacious single room with accordion-fold plywood walls for flexible storage.

What Is Quality in Simplicity?

MUJI’s aesthetic roots are traced to the Muromachi period and the origin of the tea ceremony. Shogun Yoshimasa Ashikaga and tea masters like Murata Shuko and Sen-no-Rikyu developed a culture of finding beauty within wabi (austerity) and simplicity. A tearoom is a "small theater" where minimal production—such as petals in a flat vase—invokes powerful images (like a cherry tree in full bloom) in the guest's mind. MUJI applies this "communication through simplicity" to daily products, ensuring they are versatile and bring comfort to users of all ages.

Fertilizing the Soil

Hara describes design as the "fruit" and the market as the "soil". To produce good design, one must cultivate the soil by raising the "level of desire" in the individuals who make up the market. This "education of desire" is what makes a product competitive globally. A brand is not created in a vacuum but reflects the cultural level of its foundation; for instance, the excellence of Chinese cuisine in Hong Kong is driven by the demanding palates of the customers.

Chapter 6: VIEWING THE WORLD FROM THE TIP OF ASIA

Where All Cultures Are Accepted

Kenya Hara views the world from Tokyo, a city he describes as being full of curiosity and passionate about collecting information from other cultures. He notes that Tokyoites do not believe their city is the center of the world; instead, they carefully assimilate global information to understand what is happening elsewhere. This diligence is partly due to Japan's modernization history, which involved rapid industrial progress and the "scars and bruises" of wars and environmental pollution.

Tradition and Universality

Hara discusses the concept of an independent Japanese design that could have evolved if the country had not been forced into Westernization during the Meiji Restoration. He references Junichiro Tanizaki’s "In Praise of Shadows," which suggests a modernity born from darkness and shadows rather than intense Western lighting. Tanizaki uses the example of yokan (sweet bean paste), which is best enjoyed in the dim light of a traditional house where its shape dissolves into the darkness, emphasizing the sensory experience of the sweet.

Recreating a Mature Culture

Rather than trying to match the high economic growth of countries like China, Hara argues that Japan should focus on the cultural maturity and elegance of its own identity. He warns that without recognizing and properly using its cultural resources, Japan might be forgotten by the rest of the world. To illustrate this, he presents practical examples of individual-driven projects that focus on tranquility and localism.

Waiting for What Nature Brings: Gajyoen and Tenku-no-Mori

Tenku-no-Mori (Forest in the Sky) is a project by Takeo Tajima, manager of the Gajyoen Hotel. Tajima transformed 79 acres of bamboo thickets into a hardwood paradise but plans to build only five rooms to maintain a sense of utopia. This is described as "forest management" rather than hotel management, where the focus is on nature’s rhythm and simple, non-artificial experiences like using freshly cut bamboo chopsticks or soaking in open-air hot springs with a mountain view.

Reclaiming Japan’s Quality in the World’s Eyes: Obuse-do Corporation

Obuse-do is a business in Nagano Prefecture that runs traditional shops, a sake brewery, and restaurants. A unique aspect of its success is the role of Sara Marie Cummings, a U.S. citizen who helped redevelop the brewery. Along with architect John Morford, she renovated the space to include an open kitchen with a traditional kamado (ceramic stove) and insisted on details like using large, communal plates carried with both hands. Cummings also became a sake sommelier and revived the "Hakkin" variety, demonstrating how an outsider’s vision can motivate the preservation of Japanese peculiarities.

Unearthing the Meaning of Nothingness: Mukayu

The Beniya-Mukayu hotel in Ishikawa Prefecture utilizes the concept of "mukayu," meaning "nothingness" or "idleness". Architect Sey Takeyama designed the annex as an "empty vessel" to receive the natural spectacle of the surrounding garden. The hotel avoids noise-emitting entertainment, offering instead a perfect library for reading and cypress baths that reflect the trees like a mirror. This design activates the power of potentiality, where emptiness is seen as a source of abundance.

The Expo That Might Have Been

Hara was the art director for the early promotion of Expo 2005 Aichi, which carried the theme "Nature's Wisdom". The original plan, developed by a committee including religious scholar Shinichi Nakazawa and several architects, proposed using a satoyama (village mountain) as the site. A satoyama is a semi-domesticated woodland where artificial and natural elements interact to create a rich biota. The vision involved an "eco-city" that assimilated technology into the forest, using high-tech camera and projection technology to let visitors experience the forest from the perspective of an insect or bird.

Familiar Nature and Life Forms, as Characters

Designer Takuya Onuki proposed using familiar life forms from the satoyama—such as stag beetles, grasshoppers, and buttercups—as the Expo’s mascot characters. Instead of plush toys, these creatures would be represented through computer graphics to build a child-like interest in the wisdom of nature. This aligned with the goal of creating a "new-format Exposition" that focused on nature observation.

The Self-propagating/Multiplying/Breeding Media

For communication goods, Hara designed illustrated gummed tape featuring Japanese flora and fauna. The tape functioned as a medium that multiplied the Expo’s message as it was used to seal packages in the circulation of e-commerce. Because the tape would eventually be used up and vanish, it delivered a message about the global environment through a disposable daily commodity.

The Beijing Summer Olympic Games Symbol Design Competition

In 2003, Hara entered the symbol competition for the 2008 Beijing Olympics. His design, which received an honorable mention, was based on hieroglyphic pictograms of athletes moving around a central "H" representing the sun. The pictograms were designed with freehand curved lines, allowing them to function as motion graphics and be used as Chinese seals (in "white" and "red" styles). Hara suggests that by unearthing these buried historical resources, Asia can produce completely new designs that communicate a vital pulse to the world.

Chapter 7: EXFORMATION: A New Information Format

Making the World Unknown

In the modern world, information is processed with such high density and speed that people constantly replace the unknown with identified events and phenomena. While knowing something usually implies an inspirational and exciting experience, the current information supply has exceeded a critical mass, causing knowledge to cease functioning as a medium that activates thought. To combat this, Kenya Hara proposes the concept of "exformation," which refers not to "making known" but to "understanding how little we know". This project was conducted with students at Musashino Art University to emphasize that raising questions is more important than providing answers.

Putting a Full Stop to Thinking

Modern people frequently respond to topics with the phrase "I know, I know," which Hara views as ringing down the final curtain on thought. This behavior is driven by the media, which "mows" every occurrence into tiny, segmented particles of information that stick to our brains without inciting further interest. These fragments of knowledge are rarely explored deeply; instead, people simply acknowledge having "brushed against" the information.

Acquiring Knowledge Is not the Goal

Hara argues that knowledge should be an entrance to thought rather than a final goal. In typical conversations, individuals often just transmit "I know" facts back and forth without their thoughts ever truly intersecting. True communication involves exercising one's thoughts by taking a trifling piece of knowledge and mingling it with dialogue and speculation to create heretofore-unknown ideas.

Making an Entrance for Curiosity

Using the example of a guidebook for New York, Hara explains how efficient information design can actually limit experience. Such books empower the user with navigation tools (flights, hotels, maps), but they lead travelers to seek only "expected scenes" and then exchange identical "I know" experiences afterward. An exformation approach, by contrast, would aim to awaken the reader to the truth of how little they actually know about the metropolis.

The Process of Making Things Unknown

The term "exformation" acts as the conceptual counterpart to "information". While the prefix "in" implies "to make known" or "to tell," the prefix "ex" includes meanings like "not," "outside," or "eliminated". By changing the prefix, the goal becomes converting the known back into the unknown, following the Socratic wisdom that "the only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing".

Exformation—1: THE SHIMANTO RIVER

The first year of the project used the Shimanto River in Shikoku as its theme because it is widely recognized in Japan as a "last clear river" but is mostly known through vague, preconceived images from TV documentaries.

Field Research

The research team gathered in a small village in Kochi Prefecture, focusing on the river's "sinking bridges" (chinka-bashi). These bridges have no handrails and are designed with rounded edges like airplane wings so they can be completely submerged during typhoons without resisting the current.

The Projects

Simulations—If the River Were a Road: Students Shinsaku Inaba, Sousuke Matsushita, and Hirofumi Mori created composites of asphalt roads on the water's surface. Because road textures and lane markings are deeply etched into our subconscious, they acted as a "yardstick" to help viewers realize the true scale and terrain of the river with fresh vividness.
Footprint Landscape: Kyoko Nakamura, Kazuko Nomoto, and Kaori Hashimoto photographed the river landscape through a footprint-shaped mask. This visual frame suggested a "passage to be sensed," triggering the tactile perception one feels when walking barefoot and making the viewer conscious of the landscape as an object to be stepped on.
Picking Up: Akari Ohno and Asako Tadano gathered man-made litter near the sinking bridges and analyzed it like forensic investigators. They argued that these objects are not just "garbage" but physical things destined to return to nature, providing a portrait of the river's individuality through the way nature decomposes them.
The Shimanto River Cut into a Cube: Aiko Yoshihara affixed six-directional photos of the scenery from the bridges onto regular cubes. This turned the river into a semi-tangible object that could be handled and reassembled like building blocks, breaking down conventional photographic consistency.
Six Days Alone: The Document: Kouichirou Uno stayed in a tent for six days, attempting to obtain his sustenance entirely by fishing the river. His detailed report, which included catch counts and changes in his weight, acted as a "deputy sensor" for the reader, providing an extremely lifelike measure of the river's existence.

Exformation—2: RESORT

The second year focused on the concept of "resort," examining the human need for repose in a world made hectic by economic competition.

Relaxation Time that Makes Sense to Everyone

Hara's students rejected stereotypical "picture-postcard" resort imagery. Instead, they searched for the "seeds" of resort in small, everyday instances of relief, such as peeling a mandarin orange perfectly so all the inner membranes come off, or the feeling of taking off tight shoes after walking all day.

Various Resorts

Vinyl/Stripes: Emiko Ai explored the "liberating feeling" of colorful vinyl (sandals, parasols). She simulated Tokyo street scenes where signs and water tanks were transformed into vinyl objects with plastic nozzles to project an air of repose.
Sleeping Outside: This team studied the essence of daytime napping in public parks. They created a portable tool called "NAP" and documented themselves snoozing on moors, ships, and urban rooftops to capture the pure value of doing nothing while the sun is high.
Soft-serve Ice Cream Machine: This team posited that the transient sweetness of a cone is an "instant resort". They researched production methods and nozzle shapes to create innovative designs, including a cone where the bottom exactly replicated the shape of the cream on top.
Loose Typography: Produced by Kazu Yanagisawa, this project aimed to find "congenial" letters that escape the strict order of Swiss typography to cozy up to the human mind.
Resort Switch: Makoto Tomita imagined adding a "resort mode" to machines. For a TV, the switch would cause the image to snuff out like remaining embers rather than cutting to a lonely silence.

Chapter 8: WHAT IS DESIGN?

Hearing the Outcry

In the 21st century, design is in a state of flux because rapid technological progress often victimizes accumulated aesthetic values. Hara suggests that instead of looking for the "next big thing," it is more important to listen to the "cries" of daily life and face the delicate values that are being dissipated. He defines creativity as the dynamism of intellectual conception that flows back and forth between the future and the past.

Two Origins

Hara identifies two fundamental origins for tools and design: the stick (club) and the vessel.

The Stick: Originating from free hands picking up objects to hit things, the stick amplifies physical strength. It evolved into weapons (swords, missiles) and processing tools (hammers, saws, nanotechnology).
The Vessel: Originating from folding two hands together to hold water, the vessel functions by holding "emptiness". It evolved into containers, clothing, shelter, language, and digital hard drives.

Decoration and Power

While modernism eliminated "frills," for most of human history, design was a metaphor for power. Intricate, time-consuming patterns—like the volutes on Chinese bronzeware or the carvings in the Forbidden City—aroused awe and demonstrated the authority of the ruler by concentrating difficult skills into an object. The modern age freed design from this coercive force, focusing instead on rationality and simplicity.

The Origin of Design

The modern concept of design arose about 150 years ago with John Ruskin and William Morris. It was a backlash against the Industrial Revolution and the crude, machine-made goods that superficially imitated aristocratic decoration. Morris's Arts and Crafts Movement was a protest against machine production that threatened to roll over delicate human sensibilities.

Integration of Design

The Bauhaus movement (1919–1933) took the "mountain of debris" from past art movements and crushed it into "powder" through powerful thought. They reduced design to its "zero point", identifying elements that could not be simplified further, such as color, form, texture, material, rhythm, and space.

Design in the Afternoon of the 20th Century

In the late 20th century, design was pulled along by the engine of the economy. While the Bauhaus had a social-democratic, idealistic ethical foundation, modern design became a tool for economic competition—an "unarmed method of competition" between nations.

Standardization and Mass Production

After World War II, Japan's priority was industry and economic prosperity over culture. Design became a gear for standardization and mass production, with designers' individuality often suppressed to reflect the strategy of large-scale manufacturers like SONY.

Style Change and Identity

In the United States, design evolved in a pragmatic manner linked to marketing. Entrepreneurs promoted designers to the role of "style changers" who used "streamlining" and surface differentiation to make current products seem old, thereby whetting consumer appetite for consumption.

Thought and Brand

Germany: The Ulm School of Design advocated "Environmental Design," positioning design as an integrated discipline crossing over into science, ergonomics, and cybernetics.
Italy: Italian design reached for exuberant originality through small-scale production that integrated the handwork of craftsmen.
Branding: The concept of brand—the preservation of value in the marketplace—became a major management resource where design handles the identity of a corporation.

The Prank of Postmodernism

Postmodernism in the '80s was not a turning point but a "fleeting commotion" and a "world of pranks". It was directed by designers weary of modernism and ordinary people who had attained information sophistication. While it was a "fleeting commotion" for design history, the economy used it too seriously to revitalize markets.

Computer Technology and Design

Hara notes that society has overreacted to the computer, which creates an unstable situation where people are "leaning so far forward" they lose their balance. He cites John Maeda, who argues the computer should be treated not as a tool, but as a "material". Currently, designers are "kneading the clay until our hands bleed" because technology advances faster than our ideology or education can handle.

Radical Dash

The Netherlands conforms to a "technology-driven" society more than any other nation because they literally created their own land through drainage and artifice. This has led to a tradition of radicalism in design, seen in the De Stijl movement and modern figures like Rem Koolhaas, whose aggressive solutions blow a "breeze of originality" into blocked minds.

Beyond Modernism

Design is not merely the act of making novel things; it is the rediscovey of the unknown in the familiar. Designers are now exploring the "haptic" senses (those besides sight and hearing), which have become crucial in cognitive science and virtual reality. The ultimate ideal of design is not to catch the eye with an arresting image, but to have the image permeate the five senses.