Interviews with Naoya Katagami

I have always been drawn to creative activities since I was young. This passion naturally led me to pursue a career in design. After gaining professional experience at an advertising agency, I decided to establish myself as an independent designer. Since then, I have continued to build my practice, driven by the desire to create meaningful and visually engaging work.

When designing, my top priorities are to express the essence of peace and culture, to create visuals that are simple yet powerful, and to maintain a process that starts with hand-drawn sketches. I believe that design should go beyond decoration to carry meaning and evoke reflection. I often begin my projects with drawings and notes, exploring ideas by hand before moving into digital tools. This approach allows me to keep the concept authentic and human, while later refining it with technology for precision and balance.

When I design, I feel a deep sense of excitement and curiosity, especially in the early stages when the first ideas begin to take shape. The process of sketching and gradually turning abstract thoughts into visual form brings me joy and energy. What fulfills me most, however, is seeing the final work resonate with meaning — when the message I wanted to convey is clearly communicated and connects with people. Design gives me happiness because it is not only a form of self-expression but also a bridge that allows me to share values and emotions with others.

My background has shaped me as a designer in several meaningful ways. Working at an advertising production company early in my career helped me build strong skills in client communication, presentation, and project management. These non-design abilities have been essential in bringing ideas to life and working effectively with others. In addition to design, I also pursue photography and writing, which broaden my perspective and add depth to my creative work. This combination of professional experience and diverse creative practices has greatly influenced my journey as a designer and continues to guide my approach today.

In the future, I want to focus on creating designs that are more essential and meaningful. My goal is not just to produce visually appealing work, but to design projects that touch the core of human experience and resonate on a deeper level.

I am still growing as a designer myself, so I cannot give advice from above, but I believe it is important not to lose sight of what you truly value in your creative journey. There will always be challenges and moments when things don’t go as planned, but those experiences also help us grow. I hope we can all continue learning and enjoying the process together.

Rather than saying I am truly successful, I feel I am still in the process of growing and challenging myself. What I try to keep in mind is to think simply, focus on the essence, and stay true to the core message I want to convey. While new tools and technologies are important, the foundation of design is always about how it resonates with people. Keeping this perspective can add depth and persuasiveness to any creative work.

I value the routine I follow before starting work each day. After waking up, I begin with yoga to reset my mind and body, followed by breakfast, strength training, and even some practice with the katana to work up a sweat. After a refreshing shower, I sit down to begin my design work. Of course, everyone has their own approach, but I believe that moving the body and resetting the mind is important for any profession — and especially essential for creative work like design.

I do keep an eye on design trends, but I don’t let them dictate my work. Trends can offer inspiration and fresh perspectives, yet I believe that a design should hold deeper, timeless meaning rather than simply reflecting what is fashionable at the moment. I prefer to focus on creating works that resonate on a fundamental, human level. Inspiration for me often comes from observing nature, cultural heritage, and everyday life experiences rather than purely from trend reports.

I believe trends are necessary to some extent, but I do not pay too much attention to them. What I value more is whether a design has true essence and meaning. For me, creating something with depth and authenticity is far more important than following what is currently fashionable.

For me, a design feels ready when its message and essence are clearly conveyed without adding or removing anything. Of course, there is always room for improvement, but I believe there is a natural point where the work speaks for itself. When I reach that balance—where the design feels honest and complete—I know it is time to move on to the next project.

One of my most significant works is the “Hiroshima Peace Song Exhibition” poster. This project is very special to me because it carries a message of peace from Hiroshima to the world. I used the English lyrics of the “Hiroshima Peace Song” and created a typography design that transforms into a waterfall, symbolizing how a single drop of water can grow into a stream and eventually reach the world.

The process was both challenging and rewarding—I visited waterfalls to study the flow of water and was inspired by Leonardo da Vinci’s sketches of water movement. What makes this work my biggest achievement is not only its visual impact but also its ability to inspire reflection on peace and humanity. Knowing that the poster has touched people and invited them to think deeply about peace gives me the greatest satisfaction.

One of my greatest inspirations is Leonardo da Vinci. He was not only a designer but also a scientist, artist, and visionary thinker. His deep observation of nature and his ability to connect art with science are qualities I greatly admire. For example, his sketches of water flow directly inspired me in my “Hiroshima Peace Song” design.

If I could speak with one historical designer, it would definitely be da Vinci. I would love to hear how he approached the act of observing nature so deeply and how he managed to balance creativity with scientific curiosity. His multidisciplinary approach continues to remind me that design is not just about aesthetics but about understanding the world more profoundly.

I live and work in Hiroshima, a city of water and peace, which greatly shapes my design philosophy. My daily routine of yoga, strength training, and KATANA practice helps me reset and approach projects with clarity. Traveling to the Czech Republic was also an inspiring experience, as its architecture and culture gave me fresh perspectives. I believe good design connects people across cultures and carries meaning beyond aesthetics.

I usually work independently, but I collaborate with trusted partners when a project requires it. What matters most to me is sincerity, flexibility, and mutual respect. My business philosophy is rooted in capturing the essence of things — creating design that is not only visually appealing but also meaningful. I believe good designers need strong observation skills, patience, and the ability to empathize with people.

I contribute to society by participating in annual peace-themed poster exhibitions in Hiroshima, where I use design as a medium to share messages that go beyond commercial purpose. This work is not for profit but rather to inspire reflection and dialogue about peace. I believe design has the power to move people emotionally, and I want to use that power to give something back to the community.

Participating in the A’ Design Award has been a very positive and inspiring experience.
The three main benefits I gained were:
1.The opportunity to share my design with a global audience.
2.Increased exposure through press features and publications.
3.The chance to learn from the works of other outstanding international designers.

It also gave me an opportunity to reflect on my own work more objectively, motivating me to improve the quality of my designs. Being recognized as Designer of the Day was a true honor, and it gave me a great sense of encouragement and confidence.

This work was created in response to MioBar’s renovation into a Gran Caffe. My main focus was to make the passion and dedication of Mr. Miyanishi, the master of MioBar, immediately perceptible through the editorial design.

I wanted the leaflet to communicate the spirit of the place at first sight, not as a simple advertisement, but as an object that carries the culture and atmosphere of MioBar. Through typography, photography, paper, and composition, I aimed to let people feel the world of an Italian bar and Gran Caffe culture.

What I wanted to achieve was a design that could help guests understand that MioBar is not merely a renewed cafe, but a place with a strong cultural vision. I hoped that people who held the printed material would sense the care, elegance, and depth behind the space, and become interested in experiencing that culture for themselves.

Mr. Miyanishi, the master of MioBar, sees this renovation as the creation of a place that he will continue to cultivate throughout his life. He does not want the space to remain untouched or perfectly new forever. Instead, he hopes that the cafe will gain depth over time, including the marks, scratches, and aging that come from daily use and human presence.

My future plan for this award-winning design is to continue responding to that vision. MioBar Editorial Design was not created as a one-time promotional tool. It was created as a visual language that can grow together with the place.

The leaflet, the photo book LULTIMOGIORNO, and the typeface Rinata each record an important moment in MioBar’s transformation, but I believe they can also become a foundation for future expressions. As MioBar continues to mature as a Gran Caffe, I would like to create design work that reflects that aging, atmosphere, and ongoing cultural development.

I hope this design will continue to support MioBar not only as a record of its rebirth, but as part of its future growth.

The actual production took several months. However, the concept itself had been developing long before the renovation began. I had heard Mr. Miyanishi speak many times about his vision, his passion, and the culture he wanted MioBar to become. Through visiting MioBar over time, I gradually came to understand the depth of that vision.

For this reason, I do not feel that the concept was created only during the formal design period. It was cultivated slowly through conversations, repeated visits, shared ideas, and the relationship that developed between Mr. Miyanishi and myself.

If I think about it in that way, the design contains not only several months of production, but also the entire period of time since I first began visiting MioBar. The trust, dialogue, and mutual understanding built between the master of MioBar and myself became an essential part of the concept.

This design began as a commissioned work, but it was never simply a commissioned project for me. I had already felt a strong sympathy with the vision and passion of Mr. Miyanishi, the master of MioBar, long before the design work began. Because of that, the project was also deeply connected to my own inspiration.

I wanted to respond sincerely to his desire to transform MioBar into a Gran Caffe with real cultural meaning. At the same time, I also wanted to express what I personally felt when I visited the original MioBar before the renovation, when I observed the renovation process, and when I finally experienced the completed interior.

In that sense, this project exists between commission and personal pursuit. It was created for MioBar, but it was also shaped by my own observations, emotions, and respect for the place. I incorporated many impressions from the former bar, the construction site, the new interior, and the conversations with Mr. Miyanishi into the final design.

This design was created specifically for MioBar and is used as part of its editorial and visual communication. The folded leaflet, the photo book LULTIMOGIORNO, and the typeface Rinata were all developed for the identity and cultural expression of MioBar.

At this time, I do not plan to sell or lease the production rights to another company. The design is closely connected to the space, history, and philosophy of MioBar, so I believe it should remain tied to the place for which it was created.

I intend to continue producing and developing related design work myself, in response to the future growth of MioBar as a Gran Caffe. As the cafe matures over time, I hope the visual language can also continue to evolve together with the place.

MioBar was not simply a shop or commercial space. It was a place with culture, memory, and human relationships. Because of that, I felt that a single advertisement or logo would not be enough to express its meaning.

I chose this type of work because the project needed several different forms of expression. The photo book LULTIMOGIORNO preserves the memory of MioBar before the renovation. The folded leaflet communicates the philosophy and atmosphere of the renewed MioBar as Gran Caffe. The custom typeface Rinata connects these two elements through a visual language born from the space itself.

After the renovation, many guests would visit MioBar and encounter the new interior for the first time. I wanted them not only to see a beautiful cafe, but also to feel the culture, passion, and history behind it. This is why I designed the project as an editorial work composed of photography, typography, and printed matter, rather than as a simple promotional tool.

I did not directly imitate any specific designer or existing design. The influences behind MioBar Editorial Design came more from culture, materiality, and place than from a particular visual reference.

I was influenced by the culture of historic Gran Caffe spaces in Venice and Europe, by the atmosphere of old printed materials, by the physical beauty of film photography, and above all, by the space of MioBar itself. The curves of the renovated interior, the mood of the former bar, and the vision of Mr. Miyanishi, the master of MioBar, were the most important sources of inspiration.

Rather than following an existing style, I wanted the design to emerge from the identity of the place. In that sense, MioBar itself was the strongest influence on the work.

The target audience for this design is primarily the guests of MioBar. This includes both long-time regular customers who knew the former MioBar and new guests who encounter the renewed Gran Caffe for the first time.

For regular guests, the photo book LULTIMOGIORNO preserves the memory of the Italian bar they had loved for many years. It allows them to remember the atmosphere, people, and final day of the former MioBar.

For new guests, the folded leaflet introduces the philosophy, atmosphere, and cultural vision behind the renewed MioBar. It helps them understand that MioBar is not simply a beautiful cafe, but a place with deep care, history, and ambition.

In a broader sense, the target audience also includes people who are interested in coffee culture, Italian bar culture, printed matter, photography, and design. I wanted the project to speak to anyone who can appreciate a small place trying to cultivate real culture within a local community.

What sets this design apart is that it is not simply a branding project for a cafe, nor is it only a promotional leaflet or a photo book. MioBar Editorial Design connects memory, space, typography, photography, and cultural vision into one editorial identity.

Many similar projects focus on presenting a renovated space in an attractive way. In this project, however, I wanted to express both what MioBar had been and what it was becoming. The photo book LULTIMOGIORNO preserves the memory of the former MioBar and its final business day, while the folded leaflet introduces the renewed MioBar as Gran Caffe.

Another distinctive point is the typeface Rinata. It was not chosen from an existing font library. It was created from the architectural curves of the renovated interior, especially the double-radius curve of the counter. This means that the visual language of the design was born directly from the physical space itself.

The project also differs from ordinary advertising because the printed materials were designed to exist within MioBar’s refined communication with guests. They are not loud promotional tools. They are quiet objects that carry the culture, passion, and atmosphere of the place.

For me, this combination of analog photography, custom typography, printed matter, and local cultural ambition is what makes the design unique.

The name MioBar Editorial Design comes directly from the place itself. This project was created to express MioBar, a space being renovated with deep culture, passion, and vision. Because the work was not about creating a decorative title, but about expressing the essence of the place, I felt that the name MioBar should remain at the center.

The design brings together several elements: the folded leaflet, the photo book LULTIMOGIORNO, and the custom typeface Rinata. Each of these has its own meaning, but they all exist to express MioBar.

LULTIMOGIORNO means “the last day” in Italian, and it refers to the final business day of the former MioBar before the renovation. Rinata means “reborn” in Italian, and it symbolizes the rebirth of MioBar as Gran Caffe. Together, these names represent the full story of the project: the memory of the former MioBar and the beginning of its new life.

For the photo book LULTIMOGIORNO, I photographed with a Leica camera using monochrome film. After shooting, I personally developed the black-and-white film, then scanned and edited the photographs digitally. This analog process was very important to the emotional quality of the book.

The editorial layout and composition of the photo book were created using Adobe InDesign, Adobe Illustrator, and Adobe Photoshop. These tools allowed me to carefully control the sequence, rhythm, typography, and image treatment throughout the book.

For the folded leaflet, I photographed the renewed MioBar interior with a digital Leica camera. The leaflet was also designed and composed using Adobe InDesign, Illustrator, and Photoshop, combining photography, typography, and editorial structure.

The custom typeface Rinata was created in Adobe Illustrator. Its letterforms were drawn from the architectural curves of the MioBar interior, especially the double-radius curve of the counter. In this project, analog photography, digital photography, hand-developed film, and digital design tools all worked together to express the identity of MioBar.

The most unique aspect of this design is that the visual language was born directly from the physical space of MioBar itself. The custom typeface Rinata was not selected from an existing font library. It was created from the architectural curves of the renovated interior, especially the double-radius curve of the counter, which is one of the most symbolic elements of the new Gran Caffe.

This typeface became the bridge between the different parts of the project. The photo book LULTIMOGIORNO preserves the memory of the former MioBar before renovation, while the folded leaflet introduces the renewed MioBar as Gran Caffe. Rinata connects these two different moments, the farewell and the rebirth, through one consistent visual identity.

I believe this combination is what makes the project unique: a typeface derived from architecture, a monochrome film photo book that records memory, and a full-color leaflet that communicates renewal. Together, they create an editorial design that is not only about information, but about time, place, and cultural transformation.

The design, photography, production, and visual development were all created by myself. I handled the photography, film development, image editing, typography, layout, and editorial design personally.

However, the inspiration for the work came from many people and from the place itself. Mr. Miyanishi, the master of MioBar, was the most important collaborator in terms of vision and philosophy. His passion for Gran Caffe culture and his deep commitment to the future of MioBar shaped the direction of the project.

I was also strongly influenced by the craftsmen who worked on the renovation, by the staff of MioBar, by the guests who had supported the place over many years, and by the atmosphere of the newly completed interior. Although the actual design work was done alone, the project was created through my response to all of these people, their energy, and the space they helped create.

In this design, technology played an important but supporting role. I did not want technology to become the main subject of the project. The purpose was to express the memory, atmosphere, and cultural spirit of MioBar, and technology was used only to help make that expression more precise and complete.

For the photo book LULTIMOGIORNO, the process began with analog photography using monochrome film. The film was personally developed, then scanned and edited digitally. In this case, technology helped bridge the physical quality of film with the requirements of contemporary editorial production.

For the leaflet, I used digital photography with a Leica camera to capture the renewed interior of MioBar as Gran Caffe. Adobe InDesign, Illustrator, and Photoshop were used to compose the layouts, adjust the images, and create the final printed materials. The custom typeface Rinata was also drawn digitally in Illustrator, based on the architectural curves of the interior.

For me, the role of technology was not to replace human sensitivity or material experience. It was to support them. Analog photography, digital tools, typography, and print production all worked together to express something deeply human: the transformation of a place, the memory of its past, and the beginning of its new cultural life.

This design was not primarily influenced by numerical data or marketing analysis. Instead, the research was qualitative, observational, and cultural.

I spent time understanding the space of MioBar, listening to many conversations with Mr. Miyanishi, the master of MioBar, and observing the atmosphere created by the regular guests. I also visited the renovation site many times and watched how the interior gradually changed, especially the curves, counter, ceiling, shelves, and passages that later influenced the typeface Rinata.

In addition, I researched and reflected on the culture of Italian bars and Gran Caffe traditions. However, the most important research was not done through statistics, but through direct experience: being in the space, listening to the owner’s vision, observing the people who loved the place, and understanding what kind of culture MioBar was trying to cultivate in Hiroshima.

For this project, research meant deeply observing the essence of the place.

The greatest challenge was to express the culture of MioBar and the passion of Mr. Miyanishi, the master of MioBar, without reducing them to decoration or ordinary advertising. The project needed to communicate something deeper than a beautiful renovated space. It had to express the essence of the place.

Another challenge was to integrate three different elements, the folded leaflet, the photo book LULTIMOGIORNO, and the custom typeface Rinata, into one coherent world. Each element had a different role, but they could not feel separate. They needed to belong to the same identity and share the same cultural atmosphere.

It was also important to allow two contrasting emotional times to coexist within the same project. The photo book carries the melancholy and farewell of MioBar before renovation, while the leaflet expresses the rebirth of MioBar as Gran Caffe. Balancing these two tones, memory and future, sadness and renewal, was one of the most delicate parts of the design process.

In the end, I resolved these challenges by treating the project not as a set of promotional materials, but as an editorial expression of time, place, and transformation.

MioBar is a design for a small venue in Hiroshima, but the project contains themes that can be understood internationally: Italian Gran Caffe culture, local community, photography, typography, and printed matter.

Although the work was created for a place in Hiroshima, Japan, I believed that a design with genuine essence should be evaluated within a global context. The scale of the venue was small, but the cultural ambition behind it was not small.

I decided to submit the design to an international competition because I wanted to see whether this kind of local, deeply rooted design could communicate beyond its immediate environment. I also wanted the cultural value of MioBar, and the design approach behind it, to be seen by a wider international audience.

Through this project, I learned that design is not only about expressing my own visual ideas. By engaging with the culture of Italian Gran Caffe and with the passion of Mr. Miyanishi, the master of MioBar, I realized that design can become a way to reflect history, culture, and human dedication.

This experience taught me how important it is to listen deeply to the place and to the people behind it. MioBar was not simply a subject to be designed. It already had its own time, memory, atmosphere, and cultural aspiration. My role was to translate those invisible qualities into typography, photography, layout, and printed matter.

I feel that I improved as a designer by learning how to create something deeper than surface beauty. This project helped me understand that strong design can carry not only information or style, but also the history, spirit, and future of a place.

One thing I would like to add is that this project is not finished only because the printed materials were completed. MioBar itself will continue to change over time as a Gran Caffe. The interior will age, the counter will gain marks, regular guests will create new memories, and the culture of the place will continue to deepen.

I see this design as the beginning of a long relationship with the place, rather than a one-time visual solution. The photo book LULTIMOGIORNO preserves one important ending, while the leaflet and Rinata open the beginning of a new chapter.

Through this project, I wanted to show that even a small local venue in Hiroshima can contain a cultural depth that speaks beyond its region. I believe design has the power to make such invisible cultural value visible, and to help people recognize the beauty of a place that is built through passion, time, and human connection.

My main focus was to ensure that the voice for peace from Hiroshima could reach the hearts of many people. In a world where wars continue to be fought without end, I strongly wished that this work could serve, even in a small way, as a catalyst for people to feel something meaningful and to reflect on the importance of peace.

This poster exhibition is held every year at the former Hiroshima Branch of the Bank of Japan, one of the city’s atomic-bombed buildings. I sincerely hope that future exhibitions will attract even more people and provide them with an opportunity to reflect once again on the importance of peace.

It took about six months from the initial concept to the opening of the poster exhibition. The process included developing the idea, refining the design, and preparing the exhibition as part of the project.

This concept began with a personal question to myself: What does peace truly mean? To explore this, I visited atomic-bombed buildings and related facilities in Hiroshima. I was born and raised in Hiroshima, and my grandfather was also an A-bomb survivor who entered the city after the bombing, so I grew up hearing many firsthand stories. Among them, the memory of countless people who perished while desperately longing for water left a deep impression on me.

With this in mind, I wanted the work to serve as a tribute to those people, while also using “water” as a symbol of today’s peaceful city of Hiroshima, often called the City of Water. At the same time, I felt strongly about incorporating The Hiroshima Peace Song, which is sung at the Peace Memorial Ceremony on August 6 each year. I obtained official permission from the City of Hiroshima to use the lyrics in the design, so that its message of peace could reach even more people around the world.

This design is not intended for commercial production or licensing. It was created specifically for the annual poster exhibition held at the former Hiroshima Branch of the Bank of Japan, one of the city’s atomic-bombed buildings. The purpose of the work is not to sell or distribute it as a product, but to share a message of peace and reflection. I plan to continue producing and presenting such works myself as part of this ongoing exhibition, so that more people can engage with Hiroshima’s voice for peace.

My intention was not to create something that only looked stylish or atmospheric, but to design a work with deeper meaning. By using a simple, monochrome yet powerful waterfall composition, I wanted to give the design a strong visual impact while encouraging viewers to reflect on the true meaning of the lyrics of the “Hiroshima Peace Song.” This approach allowed the design to move beyond surface aesthetics and serve as a visual medium for contemplation and peace.

Yes, the concept was strongly influenced by Leonardo da Vinci’s sketches of water, which inspired the way I visualized the flow and energy of the typography. I also sought inspiration directly from nature by observing waterfalls myself, which helped me capture the movement and depth in the design. In addition, the “Hiroshima Peace Song,” sung each year at the Peace Memorial Ceremony, served as a central influence, providing both the text and the emotional foundation of the work.

The design is intended for a broad audience, including both local citizens of Hiroshima and visitors from around the world who come to reflect on peace. It especially aims to reach younger generations, offering them an opportunity to think about the meaning of peace through art and design. At the same time, the work speaks to design and art enthusiasts who value projects with a deeper social message, helping to extend Hiroshima’s voice for peace to an international audience.

This design stands out for its unique use of typography that transforms the English lyrics of the “Hiroshima Peace Song” into a visual waterfall, symbolizing the spreading flow of peace from a single drop. Unlike many poster designs that rely on aesthetic impact alone, this work carries a deeply rooted message tied to Hiroshima’s history and culture. Inspired by Leonardo da Vinci’s studies of water as well as direct observation of waterfalls, it combines scientific observation, cultural heritage, and personal background into a single visual statement. This fusion of artistic expression and universal message of peace makes the work distinctive.

The name was taken directly from the “Hiroshima Peace Song,” which is sung every year on August 6th at the Peace Memorial Ceremony in Hiroshima. Since I used the English lyrics of this song in the design, I wanted the title itself to carry the same message of peace and help spread it to the world. By naming the work after the song, the design underscores the importance of the music as a symbolic voice for peace.

I began by making hand-drawn sketches of waterfalls and studying the optimal patterns of water flow, which I recorded in my notebook to develop the concept. After scanning these sketches and transferring them to my Mac, I refined the design digitally. Using Adobe Illustrator, I recreated the flow of water, placed the text within it, and carefully adjusted the overall balance to achieve the final composition.

The most unique aspect of my design lies in the powerful impact of the typography shaped like a waterfall, combined with the profound meaning and resonance of the lyrics from the Hiroshima Peace Song. Together, they create both a strong visual presence and a deeper emotional vibration that extends beyond design aesthetics.

I designed this work independently without collaboration. The entire concept, research, and execution were developed by myself.

Technology played a supportive role in this design. I first created hand-drawn sketches to explore the flow of water and the concept of a typographic waterfall. These sketches were then scanned and refined digitally using Illustrator, which allowed me to balance the text and composition with precision. In this way, technology helped transform the initial analog inspiration into a clear and impactful final visual.

Yes, this design was influenced by both cultural research and personal exploration. I began by asking myself what peace truly means, and visited several atomic-bombed buildings and related sites in Hiroshima to deepen my understanding. I also studied Leonardo da Vinci’s sketches of water flow and observed actual waterfalls to capture the natural dynamics of water. Furthermore, I researched the background of the “Hiroshima Peace Song” and obtained official permission from the City of Hiroshima to use its lyrics. These processes helped ground the design in both historical context and authentic symbolism.

One of the main challenges was how to translate the profound theme of peace into a visual form without reducing it to decoration. Creating a waterfall made of typography was technically and conceptually demanding, as it required balancing readability with symbolic power. Another challenge was ensuring that the design carried authentic meaning by integrating historical and cultural research, such as the stories of Hiroshima and the use of the “Hiroshima Peace Song.” I also faced the responsibility of handling the subject matter with respect and sensitivity, making sure the work would resonate sincerely with viewers.

I decided to submit this design to an international competition because I wanted the message of peace from Hiroshima to reach beyond local or national boundaries. The “Hiroshima Peace Song” carries a universal message that I believe can resonate with people worldwide, and design provides a powerful language to communicate it. By participating in the A’ Design Award, I hoped to share not only the visual concept but also the deeper meaning behind it, creating opportunities for dialogue and reflection on peace at a global level.

Through the process of designing this work, I deepened my understanding of the history of Hiroshima and reflected on what peace truly means. Visiting atomic-bombed buildings and related sites, as well as listening to the memories of survivors, gave me new perspectives and a stronger sense of responsibility as a designer. I also learned how to translate abstract concepts such as memory, loss, and hope into visual form. This project reminded me that design can go beyond aesthetics and serve as a powerful medium to communicate values and inspire reflection.

What I would like to emphasize is the importance of passing on the message of peace to future generations. As someone born and raised in Hiroshima, I feel a deep responsibility to share this story with the world. My hope is that this design will not only serve as a visual statement but also as an invitation for dialogue, reflection, and connection across cultures. Ultimately, design can become a bridge that carries human values beyond borders.
I would like to take this opportunity to express my heartfelt gratitude to everyone at the A’ Design Award — the jury members, staff, and all those involved — for their dedication and efforts. Their work not only supports designers around the world but also gives us the chance to share our messages with a global audience.

I enjoyed drawing illustrations and manga, and I also loved designing flyers for events with friends—before I knew it, it had turned into my profession.

Rather than aiming specifically to become a designer, I just kept doing creative things that I loved, and eventually found myself working under the title of graphic designer.

I always aim to create designs that capture the essence of things, and I hope to refine that further moving forward.
I also work with photography using 35mm and 8×10 black-and-white film, and I would like to incorporate that form of expression more into my design work.
I believe film photography captures the true essence of a moment, imprinting it directly onto the film.

I’m still in the process of growing myself. I’ve developed through seeing many things and meeting many different people.

I believe the definition differs from person to person, but to me, the distinction lies in whether the work captures some essence of truth or creates meaningful synergy.

Not just something trendy or fashionable, but a design that reflects the essence and synergy of what the creator is truly trying to express.

Everything has its own vibration and rhythm. A good season or moment gives birth to good design, and in turn, good design creates a new season. I believe there is a mutual relationship like that.

I would like to create designs that go beyond expectations for people who seek deeper essence.

I live in Japan and have had the opportunity to work with major domestic companies, but I hope to expand my work to a broader range of international projects.

To approach each project sincerely without becoming arrogant.

Leonardo da Vinci, Buckminster Fuller, Hokusai, Mucha, and Emil Ruder.

The Tura Table by Mai Wahdan (#171874) really spoke to me — I could easily see it fitting into my own home.

I was drawn to the simplicity of the “Tura Table” by Mai Wahdan (#171874). It felt like something I would genuinely want to use in my own home.

I was drawn to the simplicity of the “Tura Table” by Mai Wahdan (#171874). It felt like something I would genuinely want to use in my own home.

I’ve always pursued what I felt drawn to, though many of those interests ended up as hobbies or temporary phases.
Even if I hadn’t become a designer, I believe I would still be doing something creative.

Design, to me, is something that connects people with things and experiences—it bridges the gap between ideas and those who encounter them.

Everyone I’ve met, every experience I’ve had, and every place I’ve been has helped me reach where I am today. More recently, I’ve received great support from the people at JAGDA.

Everyone I’ve met, every experience I’ve had, and every place I’ve been has helped me reach where I am today. More recently, I’ve received great support from the people at JAGDA.

Of course, not just in design, but in doing anything meaningful, one encounters various difficulties—but I believe that’s simply part of the journey.

As long as the essence of the work is properly conveyed, I believe designers are free to present it however they choose—so long as they maintain basic courtesy and order.

I’m involved in various types of work, but moving forward, I want to create more essential, fundamental designs.

A quote by Emil Ruder always stays with me:
“There are people—sharp-tongued people—who say that the most beautiful surface is a surface with nothing on it. This is not a totally mistaken view. When we are faced with a white surface there are two things we can do: we can ennoble it or we can desecrate it.”
This thought is always in my heart and deeply influences my goals as a designer.

Continued evolution.

To better interweave things and people.

Designing for a shop that is entering a new phase.

The Hiroshima Peace Song Exhibition #164704.
Ahead of the 80th anniversary of the end of the war, I created the design for a poster exhibition aimed at conveying peace to people around the world through the power of design. The project received a great response.

I hope to see an increase in more essential and meaningful design.

The polarization between what we call “design” and easily generated outputs by AI will rapidly accelerate, and what we refer to as true design will become more refined and sharpened.

It depends on the project, but even after it’s completed, I keep questioning whether it’s truly the best it can be until the deadline.

I usually start with rough sketches and notes.

The expression of more essential truths.

We should create good design regardless of trends.

We should create good design regardless of trends.

I use Mac and Adobe software for my work.

They are like the colors in a drawing — elements that give life and depth to the line work.

They are like the colors in a drawing — elements that give life and depth to the line work.

The essence.

I usually create alone, so I’m not sure.

The books and designs of pioneers have greatly influenced me. More recently, the members of JAGDA have also had a significant impact.

Leonardo da Vinci’s manuscripts.

By reading many books written by great designers and masters before me.

Leonardo da Vinci.

I feel truly honored.

I like monochrome.

At JAGDA Hiroshima, we’ve been involved in a project called the Hiroshima Appeals Poster Series. It’s a design poster initiative that began in 1983. This year, marking the 80th anniversary of the end of the war, we created a postcard set that compiles all the posters, and I was in charge of the art direction.

While I was working with the design data from past contributors to create the set, I experienced an overwhelming feeling—goosebumps all over. It felt as though I was being watched by the designers of past generations. It was an eerie yet deeply moving moment.

When a design is completed, or when someone is genuinely pleased with the work—that’s when the day feels truly great. Receiving recognition through awards or having the work embraced by many people through media coverage also gives me a strong sense of fulfillment and motivation.

Since it was a time when information wasn’t as readily available as it is now, I didn’t have a clear idea of becoming a designer.
However, I was definitely a child with an unusually strong curiosity for culture and all things creative.

I don’t know what will happen.
Perhaps something other than humanity will be at the center of evolution.
But what I do know is that I try to live each moment fully and strive to grow little by little every day.

I hope to continue evolving as a designer.
It would mean a lot if you kept following my journey from here on.

I’m based in Hiroshima, Japan, and I operate my own independent design studio.

Design is something that connects people with things and events.

Designs that contain essence and depth.

Hiroshima Peace Song Exhibition #164704 — This is a poster design I created for an exhibition held in Hiroshima ahead of the 80th anniversary of the end of the war. I believe it represents the deepest essence I could express through design at this point in my journey.

It was promotional advertising materials for a Japanese company.

When the image I have in mind starts to take shape.

Whether it expresses the essence of the subject.

After sketching with various thoughts and ideas, I try to empty my mind before fully engaging in the design process.

Each time something I envisioned takes shape, I feel a deep sense of attachment and affection toward it.

The essence that emerges after a process of trial and error—revisiting, adjusting, struggling—is what makes a design truly successful.

The essence that emerges after a process of trial and error—revisiting, adjusting, struggling—is what makes a design truly successful.

To connect people with things and matters in a better, more meaningful way.

It will continue to be refined and sharpened.

In July 2025, I participated in a group poster exhibition organized by JAGDA Hiroshima. For my next exhibition, I am hoping to hold a solo show.

I read many books by predecessors.

I always aim to express the essence of things.
That’s why my approach is to strip away unnecessary elements from the initial sketches, leaving only what truly matters.

I live in Hiroshima, Japan. Naturally, living in a city deeply connected to the atomic bombing and the legacy of war and peace gives me many opportunities to reflect on those themes.
Through my involvement with JAGDA Hiroshima, including projects like the Hiroshima Appeals Poster series and various other initiatives, I feel a strong influence from this cultural and historical context on my design work.

I have been working on the design of promotional materials such as advertisements for many years.

I have been working on the design of promotional materials such as advertisements for many years.

I usually start by jotting down ideas and necessary elements on paper, creating rough sketches. Once the concept is somewhat solidified, I move on to working digitally on my Mac.
For photography, I work with black-and-white film, developing it myself in the darkroom.

My favorite design items at home are:
•My collection of Rotring pens
•Wacom pen display tablet
•MacBook Air
•Leica camera and lenses
•Black-and-white film

I start my day by doing yoga on the balcony while soaking up the sun. Then I eat some pasta, do a training session, take a shower, and begin my work. At night, I wind down with some maintenance time in my massage chair.

I, too, am still in the process of lifelong growth. Let’s continue growing by seeing as much as we can and experiencing as much as possible.

It’s a profession where you can imagine and create. If you’re freelance, you also have the freedom to manage your own time. But with that freedom comes full personal responsibility.

Whether the essence is being expressed.

Whether the essence is being expressed.

Mac, Adobe software, notebooks, and pens.

If a design seems like it will take a long time, I plan ahead accordingly.

It varies depending on the design. However, I always ask myself whether it’s truly finished or if there’s still something more I can do within the scheduled time.

What the design is expressing.

Every single day.

Major retail companies in Japan, among others.

Work that expresses the essence of things.

I also shoot black and white photography with an 8×10 Deardorff, and I would like to incorporate it more into my creative work.

I mostly develop my designs by myself.

Since 1983, JAGDA Hiroshima has been engaged in the Hiroshima Appeals Poster project. This year, marking 80 years since the end of the war, we created a postcard set featuring the entire collection of these posters. I served as the art director for the project. The set will go on sale this year, and I truly hope people will take a moment to experience it.

I would appreciate it if you could contact me via email.
mail@createasensation.jp

I will continue to pursue and create more essential and meaningful designs. Thank you all for your continued support.

MioBar was renovated with a strong awareness of the true essence of historic Gran Caffe culture, such as the long-established cafes of Venice. The aim was not to imitate the appearance of such places, but to understand their deeper spirit: hospitality, conversation, atmosphere, continuity, and cultural presence.Inside MioBar, there are no digital displays, and there is no standardized, manual-like customer service often found in chain stores. The place is built through a very high level of communication between the owner, the staff, and the guests. The atmosphere is created through conversation, attention, memory, and personal exchange.For this reason, the leaflet was not designed as an ordinary advertisement. It was created as a printed object that could be handed to guests naturally within that refined communication, perhaps during a conversation or at the moment they leave the cafe. It carries the thoughts, values, and care of the place.The leaflet introduces details that may not be fully noticed during a single visit: the owner’s philosophy and achievements, the atmosphere of the interior, the carefully selected coffee beans, and the prosciutto served with a slicer by Berkel, one of the world’s finest makers of ham slicers. These elements are not presented as simple information, but as traces of the culture MioBar is trying to cultivate.I believe this is where print still has a deep role. A thoughtfully produced leaflet can remain in the hands and memory of the guest. It can quietly extend the experience of the cafe beyond the visit itself, and encourage the guest to return with a deeper understanding of the place. In MioBar Editorial Design, print functions not as promotion alone, but as a cultural bridge between the space, the people, and the local community.

I have always loved the grain of monochrome film. For me, a photograph is not only an image. When light is burned onto film, and when that image is later enlarged and printed on photographic paper, it becomes a physical object. It has a material presence that digital data cannot fully replace. I find that presence very beautiful.I usually carry a Leica camera with me when I walk through the city, and I had photographed MioBar many times before this project. I had also given prints to the owner, Mr. Miyanishi, in the past. Before the renovation, MioBar was already a wonderful Italian bar, deeply loved by many regular guests. It had its own atmosphere, history, and human warmth.When Mr. Miyanishi told me that he wanted to make a photo book of the final business day before the renovation, he specifically asked me to photograph it on film. I understood that request very naturally. Film is expensive, and the process takes much more time and effort than digital photography. However, the beauty, warmth, and quiet depth of film were essential for this subject.The final day of MioBar was not something I wanted to record quickly or efficiently. It was a day filled with memory, gratitude, and a sense of farewell. By photographing on monochrome film and developing it myself, I could stay close to that emotional atmosphere from beginning to end. The process gave the images a certain slowness and density.For LULTIMOGIORNO, the analog process was not a stylistic choice alone. It was a way to respect the time that had accumulated in the place and the feelings of the people who gathered there. Mr. Miyanishi and I shared the belief that film could carry this warmth more honestly. That shared sensibility became the foundation of the photo book.

Japanese people love Italian cuisine, and there are many Italian restaurants throughout Japan. However, I feel that there are not many places that truly aim to understand and cultivate the deeper culture and essence behind Italian food, coffee, and hospitality.The owner of MioBar, Mr. Miyanishi, is someone who has experienced that culture not only as knowledge, but physically and professionally. As a barista, he became a Japanese champion and went on to become a finalist in a world competition. He understands coffee, service, and Italian bar culture at a very deep level.MioBar began in Hiroshima, a city where this kind of Gran Caffe culture was almost nonexistent. Over thirteen years, it became a well-known and much-loved place, supported by many regular guests. The renovation was not a departure from that history. It was an attempt to take everything MioBar had cultivated and bring it to a higher level as a Gran Caffe.After I was entrusted with the design for this renovation, I had many conversations with Mr. Miyanishi. Through those conversations, I came to understand his passion, his standards, and the cultural meaning he wanted the space to carry. My role was not to create a design that simply looked European, nor to follow current trends in Japanese design. I wanted to express the essence of the culture he had been pursuing.At the same time, the design had to remain rooted in Hiroshima. MioBar was not an imported image of Italy. It was a place built through thirteen years of relationships with local people. Therefore, the visual language needed to respect European Gran Caffe heritage while also speaking to people in Hiroshima in a sincere and accessible way.Through the editorial design, I wanted not only regular guests, but also new visitors, to feel the passion and care behind MioBar. By communicating the depth of the owner’s philosophy and the details of the space, the design could help people encounter a culture that may not yet be common in Hiroshima. For me, this balance was essential: honoring Italian heritage while allowing it to grow naturally within the local community.

The most difficult challenge was how to express MioBar’s culture and passion without reducing it to decoration or a simple promotional image. However, in a personal sense, I did not experience the project as something difficult in a negative way. Long before the actual production began, I had already been visiting MioBar as a guest, listening to Mr. Miyanishi’s ideas, and sharing his vision for the place. The project started from empathy.Because of that, the process felt less like solving a conflict and more like a session between two forms of passion. Mr. Miyanishi would say, “The counter is finished, come and see it,” and I would respond by showing him ideas such as, “I tried creating this typeface.” We inspired each other continuously as the renovation and the design developed side by side.The constraints did not feel like limitations. They helped us focus on what truly mattered. The important question was not how to make MioBar look luxurious or European, but how to communicate the genuine cultural aspiration behind the place. Every decision, from the custom typeface to the printed materials, had to serve that purpose.Through this process, I came to understand editorial design as a form of cultural translation. For a small venue facing its local community, editorial design can do more than explain services or present information. It can give shape to the thoughts, conversations, and emotional energy behind a place. In MioBar Editorial Design, the printed materials became a way to share the spirit of the venue with people who had not yet fully understood its depth.

The two main printed works in MioBar Editorial Design represent an ending and a rebirth.The photo book LULTIMOGIORNO records MioBar as it existed before the renovation, as a beloved Italian bar with its own history, atmosphere, and regular guests. It is a record of the final business day, but it is also a quiet farewell to the space and time that had accumulated there.The folded leaflet, on the other hand, represents the rebirth of MioBar as Gran Caffe. It introduces the new vision of the place, a space that Mr. Miyanishi will continue to age, refine, and deepen throughout his life. In this sense, the photo book looks toward the past, while the leaflet opens toward the future.Rinata was created to make these two artifacts feel special and to connect them through a single visual language. It may be difficult to see in images, but each letterform has corners shaped with a double-radius curve. This detail comes directly from the two-step curved edge of the counter, which is one of the defining features and the face of the renovated cafe.The interior of MioBar places great importance on curved beauty: the ceiling, passages, shelves, and counter all contain carefully considered curves. Rinata takes these curves into its structure and translates them into typography. For me, it is not simply a custom typeface used for MioBar; it is a typeface that could only have been born from MioBar itself.In the leaflet, Rinata appears more prominently and functions as a symbol of rebirth. In LULTIMOGIORNO, the visual rhythm is more restrained, because the subject is memory and farewell. However, the sensibility of Rinata still influenced the editorial pacing: the use of quiet intervals, curved movement, and a rhythm that allows the reader to move slowly through the final day.By connecting the photo book, the leaflet, and the typeface, I wanted the project to become more than a set of separate design objects. Each component has a different role, but together they form a continuous narrative: the memory of the former MioBar, the emergence of Gran Caffe, and the visual language that bridges the two.

Grand Interview Question 07 : The MioBar Editorial Design represents a carefully considered document of a neighborhood bar becoming a space for cultural gathering, and the visual vocabulary it establishes feels as though it was built to grow alongside the cafe itself over many years. Looking ahead, how do you envision the design language originated in the MioBar Editorial Design evolving in future communications for Gran Caffe Mio, and how has completing this project redirected or deepened the longer-term trajectory of your own practice as a visual designer and photographer working in Hiroshima?

One dimension that I feel deserves more attention is the cultural ambition behind the project. MioBar Editorial Design is not simply a set of beautiful printed materials, nor is it only a branding project for a cafe. At its heart, it is an attempt to make the cultural value of a small local place visible.In Japan, and especially in many regional cities, I feel that there are still not enough people who deeply understand culture, design, and the essence behind a place. There are also not many venues that seriously try to cultivate such values. Compared with Europe, where design, art, and historical cultural spaces are often more naturally respected, Japan can sometimes be strongly influenced by advertising-like communication and short-term visual impact.However, places like MioBar do exist. MioBar has genuine culture, passion, and a strong philosophy behind it. My role was to design not just an advertisement, but a visual and editorial expression of that essence.What I want designers, clients, and local community members to understand is that design can do more than decorate or promote. It can help people recognize the cultural meaning of a place. It can give form to passion that might otherwise remain invisible. It can help a community see a small venue not merely as a cafe or bar, but as a cultural space worth supporting, returning to, and passing on.I hope MioBar Editorial Design can contribute, even in a small way, to creating a culture in which both Gran Caffe and design are more deeply understood and appreciated by many people. For me, the ambition of this work is not only to communicate MioBar’s renewal, but to help establish a richer awareness of culture itself.

LULTIMOGIORNO is a photo book that records the final business day of MioBar before its renovation, when it was still the Italian bar that had been loved by many people for many years. At Mr. Miyanishi’s request, I photographed that day on monochrome film. This choice was very natural to me, because the day carried a strong sense of melancholy, tenderness, and farewell.The final day was not simply the end of a business phase. It felt as if thirteen years of MioBar’s history, relationships, conversations, and memories were compressed into a single day. Monochrome film was the right medium for that emotional density. By removing color, the photographs could focus more deeply on gestures, expressions, light, shadows, and the atmosphere of parting. The absence of color made the memories feel more concentrated.The leaflet, by contrast, belongs to the renewed MioBar as Gran Caffe. It presents the luxurious interior after the renovation, with its beautiful curves, carefully designed details, and a level of atmosphere that had rarely existed in Hiroshima before. For this reason, color was necessary. The leaflet needed to communicate the richness, elegance, and vitality of the new space.I see the monochrome photo book and the full-color leaflet not as opposing choices, but as two complementary documents within the same editorial project. LULTIMOGIORNO preserves the memory of what MioBar had been, while the leaflet introduces what MioBar is becoming. One looks back with affection and sadness; the other looks forward with confidence and expectation.Together, they express the full story of MioBar’s transformation: the farewell to a beloved Italian bar and the rebirth of the space as Gran Caffe.

Mr. Miyanishi, the master of MioBar, had a strong awareness of the tradition of Gran Caffe culture, including the historic cafes of Venice. Because of that, I wanted Rinata to contain a certain cultural and retro feeling, but I did not want it to become a nostalgic imitation. My intention was to create something entirely new while still carrying the atmosphere of that tradition.During the renovation, I visited the site many times and observed the construction process closely. As the interior gradually took shape, the curves of the space left a strong impression on me. Mr. Miyanishi himself was very particular about curves, and I felt that these curves were essential to the identity of the renewed MioBar.The most important reference was the counter, which can be seen as the face of the cafe. Its corner has a distinctive two-step curved form. I took that double-radius curve and translated it into the corners of the letterforms. This detail became one of the defining characteristics of Rinata.Conceptually, I did not want to copy the architecture directly. Instead, I wanted to abstract the feeling of the space: its softness, elegance, rhythm, and sense of rebirth. The curves were studied not as decoration, but as structural elements that could give the typeface its personality.In this way, Rinata was designed as a typographic expression of the renewed MioBar. It carries a retro cultural memory connected to Gran Caffe tradition, while also expressing the completely new identity of the space. For me, the double curves in the letters symbolize the rebirth of MioBar itself.

The Former Bank of Japan Hiroshima Branch is located a mere 380 meters from the bomb’s hypocenter. At the moment the atomic bomb detonated, people sitting inside were burned into the walls, and portions of those walls are now relocated and exhibited at the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum in Peace Memorial Park—this is a building of profound historical significance.Although many people perished inside this building and it suffered extensive damage, it symbolized resilience when, starting on August 8—just two days after the bombing—private banks began returning deposits and conducting payouts for citizens. This act became a symbol of post-war recovery. Today, it is preserved as a hibaku (bombed) building under Hiroshima City management, and visitors can tour it free of charge.As I visited the building repeatedly while designing the exhibition, I became intensely aware that I couldn’t just design a message of peace—I had to fully accept and reflect on the horror of war. The feelings and impressions I gained from being inside the structure significantly influenced my design choices.

To embody the essence of the cascading typography depicting the “Hiroshima Peace Song” lyrics, I selected Akzidenz-Grotesk—a simple, refined, and traditional typeface. Its clean, timeless quality resonated deeply with the weight of 80 years since the war and the enduring message of peace. It provided a sense of continuity and respect, echoing the solemn flow of history.For the title of the Hiroshima Peace Poster Exhibition, I chose Gotham, and this choice carried a meaningful cultural connection. Earlier that spring, Christopher Nolan’s film Oppenheimer premiered in Hiroshima, and I watched it twice at Hacchō-za, a cinema located close to the hypocenter. The film’s blend of American perspectives on the atomic bombing and the Japanese experience of J. Robert Oppenheimer’s moral struggle struck a deep chord in me. By using Gotham—the same typeface used in Nolan’s film title—I aimed to honor the director’s nuanced storytelling and reference the film’s dialogue between past and present, East and West. This dual-typeface approach creates a visual and historical conversation: Akzidenz-Grotesk grounding the work in tradition and peace, while Gotham bridges it to contemporary discourse and cultural introspection.

In Japan, we have a deep cultural tradition rooted in Zen philosophy and an appreciation for negative space. I intentionally adopted a monochrome palette—reminiscent of ink wash painting (sumi-e)—so that the waterfall formed by the “Hiroshima Peace Song” lyrics becomes the central visual force. As viewers engage more closely with the piece, they uncover deeper meanings, much like a meditation practice unfolding through careful observation. This minimalist approach invites quiet reflection and underscores the enduring message of peace.For the B1 posters featured in the exhibition, I collaborated with artisans from the Bizan Hand-made Washi Cooperative (阿波手漉和紙商工業協同組合). Each poster was printed on a single sheet of their hand-crafted “Bizan” washi paper, produced through traditional water-driven papermaking methods. The unique texture and materiality of this high-quality paper amplify the design’s tactile essence and conceptual depth, creating a powerful resonance with the exhibition’s peace-focused theme.

After deciding to express the Hiroshima Peace Song as a waterfall, I spent countless hours observing natural falls. While balancing my other professional duties, I continually returned to the fundamental question: What is peace? What does it mean to depict a waterfall? In time, I cleared away even those very thoughts, embracing simplicity. What remained was the essence of this design—the pure form, flow, and emotion at its heart.On Hiroshima City’s official YouTube channel, the Peace Song is available in both Japanese and English. When I listen to it while gazing at the waterfall typography, I feel as if my thoughts, hopes, and wishes for peace are enveloped in its cascading flow and the sound’s vibrations that cascade through the air. Guided by this intention, I placed the waterfall of lyrics against a plain white background. This stark emptiness amplifies the waterfall’s movement, the melody’s vibrations, and the urgings of peace—all without distraction. The white background is a canvas for silence, letting the design breathe and the message resonate clearly and powerfully.

While my personal design expression in the exhibition is centered on the waterfall motif, as mentioned earlier, the Hiroshima Peace Song Exhibition is fundamentally composed of the heartfelt aspirations for peace expressed by all 68 participating designers. The thematic concept of “water” reflects not only the essence of peace but also scientific beauty. As we know, water molecules are composed of H₂O, but in nature, they tend to exist in clusters of around five molecules. These clusters reminded me of social groupings among humans—close-knit circles of friends and communities.I visualized these molecular clusters as symbols of human connection and designed them accordingly, scattering the cluster motifs across signage and visual elements within the exhibition. Some of the cluster designs were expanded to form spherical shapes reminiscent of the Earth, representing the broader, global unity of these individual expressions of peace. These designs emphasize the interconnectedness and collective importance of each of the 68 works.For the name tags of the outstanding student posters, I incorporated a droplet shape—symbolizing their addition to the expanding cluster of peaceful voices. Through this visual language, I sought to express the ripple effect of peace, spreading from individual intentions to a collective consciousness.

My design was strongly influenced by contemporary contexts—just as with Question 03, Christopher Nolan’s Oppenheimer had a profound impact. Additionally, Hiroshima hosted the G7 Summit the previous year, and with the 80th anniversary of the bombing approaching, I sensed a heightened awareness among both citizens and visitors.During the design process, I frequently visited Hiroshima to absorb this charged atmosphere—the cultural reflections, architectural memorials, and conversations taking place. This helped me distinguish between superficial symbolism and essential expression. Immersed in this moment of collective remembrance and global attention, I was determined to create a design that resonates with historical depth while remaining genuinely rooted in contemporary reflection.

From the outset, the entrance tapestry was designed with its monumental scale in mind. I wanted passersby—on their daily commute or on their way to school—who casually walk past the venue to feel a sense of significance and impact through the waterfall motif. To achieve this, I visualized the typography forming a torus-like waterfall that remains visually striking even from across the street.By carefully balancing the compression and spacing of the water-flow typography, the large forms create an unmistakable waterfall structure when viewed from a distance. As viewers approach the tapestry, the letters themselves become legible: positive words and poignant phrases emerge from the flow of lyrics, inviting closer reflection. This dual-layered experience—bold visual impact at a distance, and thoughtful textual discovery up close—ensures the work communicates both its emotional weight and its message of peace at any scale.

In 2023, Hiroshima welcomed approximately 12.3 million visitors—a 33 % increase compared to the previous year. This significant growth reflects rising global interest, with many visitors touring the Peace Memorial Museum and other atomic bomb sites.By strategically distributing exhibition flyers across these municipal spaces and the Atomic Bomb Museum, we ensured visibility to both residents and international visitors. The materials were quickly taken—almost disappearing from venues—which confirmed high public engagement. This broad distribution helped drive attendance and conversation around the exhibition, fostering community connection and amplifying its message of peace.

I am deeply honored to receive the Silver A’ Design Award for the Hiroshima Peace Song Exhibition. This recognition has already led to meaningful opportunities, such as being featured in the Chugoku Shimbun, requests from venues to display the poster, and exhibitions in areas far from Hiroshima. Through this exposure, I believe the message of peace embedded in the design is beginning to reach broader audiences.As we approach the 80th anniversary of the atomic bombing, I hope this exhibition will continue to foster global reflection—not only on Hiroshima’s past but on our shared future. The Hiroshima Peace Song and the visual metaphors of flowing water represent a call for peace that transcends borders and generations. As inscribed on the stone cenotaph in Hiroshima Peace Memorial Park, “安らかに眠って下さい　過ちは繰返しませぬから.” These words embody the spirit of Hiroshima—a collective commitment not to repeat the mistakes of the past, a resilience born from profound suffering, and a vision for peaceful coexistence. Through this work, I wish to contribute to that spirit and to amplify its relevance in today’s conflicted world.