Creative-LAB. Organizing Team Roundtable #2
FIG.1
Takano: Okay, here’s my next question. I think both Creative-LAB. and ASIBA as a whole are about starting with one’s own questions—or rather, beginning with one’s own inner motivations. How exactly do your personal questions connect to social issues?
Morihara: I’d like to ask Sudo about this. You build things through engineering, but you’re also interested in social movements and philosophy, aren’t you? How do you think those things connect?
Sudo: There’s a pretty clear connection. I’m not sure if I should call it “radical,” but I think all engineers share this desire to create something new. So when I ask myself, “What is truly new?” one answer is creating radically new concepts—like the kind of philosophy you see in conceptual art. Another is creating new systems that engage society.Personally, I find both of these incredibly appealing. If an engineer tries to do that kind of work, I think limiting oneself to just “things” would make the scope too narrow; so I approach it with the idea that involving society allows us to create something radically more interesting. I see people like Morihara as being close to that—or rather, perhaps they’re already ahead of us—actually putting it into practice.
Also, when you’re working in a digital field like engineering, it’s easy to assume you can only create digital things, but I inevitably find myself wanting to delve into history. Information sociology emerged in the ’70s, and when you look into that era—especially the early days of the internet—you realize they were discussing topics very similar to political movements, democracy, and communication.
Takano: Architecture is similar, isn’t it? Although architecture has a much longer history.
Morihara: I believe the role of creatives and architects is to “plant a flag” in places where social issues haven’t yet come to light. Architects like Yuko Nagayama describe themselves as “people who point to the North Star,” but if no one thinks to look up at the sky, they’ll never find the North Star, right?But unless there’s someone to say, “That’s what’s important,” that action probably wouldn’t even begin. It’s not something that shines brightly to signal, “There’s an issue here”; rather, I believe we have to be able to point and say, “That direction might be better” or “This is more important.” That’s not something dictated from above.You have to discover it for yourself, and to do that—by rowing your own boat, so to speak, or by gaining a sense of reality through the act of creating—you’ll come to realize things like “What do I need to look at?” or “I need this information to do this.”“I need this research,” “I need to understand this issue,” or “I need to understand history”—that’s when learning truly begins, and I believe that through the act of creating, we come to understand society.
Takano: The key is learning through practice, isn’t it?Also, regarding the point from earlier: through the act of making, you begin to see questions that are unique to you. Just because these haven’t been voiced in society yet doesn’t mean they aren’t socially relevant. Rather, in today’s world where issues are becoming increasingly complex and diverse, ASIBA believes a major role of creativity is figuring out how to identify your own unique questions and present them as an agenda. Creative-LAB. operates on the same principle.
Morihara: To engage in high-intensity practice or making, you really need a solid foundation—basic skills, ways of thinking, and perspectives—and those are aspects you can’t skip over. Making is a process with real weight and substance; you absolutely can’t get by with superficial techniques, and if you do, it’ll be obvious.Of course, I think it’s important to realize through hands-on practice that superficial techniques won’t work, and the subsequent phase—where you learn in your own way, engage with new fields of study, and delve deeper—is also crucial. Conversely, I’m sure there are also instances of creation that begin with, for example, having done a lot of theoretical study or reading books, and then asking, “So, how can I implement this in society?”I hope Creative-LAB. can be a place where people can have that kind of experience.
Takano: Next question. Your statement mentions stepping out of your comfort zone to create something at 100%—something you haven’t shown to anyone yet. Have any of you personally had moments where you’ve stepped out of your comfort zone?
I’ve actually tried to step out of mine.It was when I was applying to universities overseas. I think it was during my first year of high school—around the fall of my freshman year—when it suddenly hit me. Up until then, I’d been juggling club activities and studying, feeling like I was doing my best. But by chance, there was a program at my high school that took students to Boston during the summer of my freshman year. It was really expensive, but my parents told me, “Make sure you get your money’s worth.”When I went there and really threw myself into it, I had this experience where my standards suddenly shot up—I started having doubts about how I’d spent my time up to that point, thinking things like, “Couldn’t I have done more?” or “I don’t really click with the people around me.”I was at a very competitive high school, and at the time, I could only see things in terms of grades and college—thinking that maybe one-fifth or one-sixth of the students there would go to the University of Tokyo. But right then, I thought, “No, actually, that doesn’t sound like any fun.” So, “Let’s go abroad”—that was the initial push that got me started.
Morihara: I see. So you took on a challenge.
Takano: I was taking on challenges. I worked really hard during my first, second, and third years of high school.
Morihara: When it came to college entrance exams, I hadn’t even considered universities overseas at all, but I really did wonder, “What’s the point of going to college anyway?” Why do I have to go? Why are all these people aiming for college entrance exams? Why do we all have to get so worked up over mock exams? Why do we have to compare our test scores with the person next to us?I thought, “There’s no way I’m going to let my worth be determined by something like that,” so I just quit studying for the entrance exams. I was in an entrance exam prep class and ranked 40th out of 40, but that was because I kept skipping the practice exams and spent the entire test time reading books—that was my stance—so people would say, “This kid’s a lost cause.”
Even during that time, I was secretly drawing all the time and kept doing sketches. I kept drawing even when I went home or during class, and I compiled them into a portfolio. By chance, Waseda University had a system where they accepted 20 students regardless of their grades.I only applied there, and I think the act of applying—and the determination behind it—was my first step out of my comfort zone. It was like deciding to stray from the beaten path. It was more like, “Nah, whatever.”Thinking, “In my own life, I’ll just take risks on my own and make it work—so I should just go for it,” was my first experience of leaping out of my comfort zone. I think it’s definitely true that because I had that successful experience back then, I still find myself thinking, “Well, things will work out somehow”—even now, I feel like I’ll be okay even if I don’t get a job right away. That moment must have been really intense.
FIG.2
Takano: That’s right. For me, on the contrary, I have the feeling that I can jump on the mainstream whenever I want—so maybe that’s why I’m the type who can step off it.
Morihara: That’s true—it’s quite different. Maybe it’s precisely because you’re completely on the brink that you’ve secured the position of “I’m going to create.”
Takano: It’s completely different, isn’t it? Even while being part of the mainstream, I feel a strong fear and dread about continuing to create something solely for myself—or even about simply continuing to live. So, even though I don’t know if I can do anything meaningful for the public that way, I feel like I’ll just start by stepping outside the mainstream for now.
Sudo: By the way, I have a similar story—I once canceled my graduate school entrance exam on the very day of the test.
Morihara: That’s crazy! Why did you cancel on the day of the exam? Doesn’t that mean you were planning to go right up until that day?
Sudo: That “I wasn’t thinking about anything” comment from earlier—that’s where it ends. I have memories starting from that day. My mindset completely shifted, and I started asking myself, “Why?” and “Is it okay to keep going like this?”One reason was that the computer science program I wanted to study wasn’t offered at the undergraduate level, and another was that I’d originally wanted to study the humanities, but since it was a university specializing in science and engineering, I couldn’t study that there. I’d been thinking I might cancel even before that, but I was actually studying hard. I even told my teacher, “I’m going,” right up until the day of the exam.
Takano: What happened on that day?
Sudo: I guess it was just a feeling like, “This isn’t right,” or “Something feels off.”
Morihara: But still, stepping out of that cozy comfort zone is a good thing in many ways. Everything starts with a detour.
Takano: That’s a great way to put it.At the shared house where I live, we joke that “only people who’ve repeated a grade are eligible to move in.” Though lately, there have been more people who’ve graduated on time. Of course, there’s the basic premise that repeating a grade is something you can only do if you’re financially well-off, so I don’t think it’s good to emphasize that too much—but it’s during that “period of being nobody” that your true self really comes out, right?
Takano: Well, next—I think the premise of what we do as a lab and as a community is that the chemistry between people and having companions are crucial for creating things and reflecting on how we live. What kind of chemistry do you hope will emerge in this lab? Also, have you had any experiences where you felt you’ve changed in a “chemical reaction” kind of way?
Morihara: My own experience? A “chemical reaction.” Let me see. I’d say that “meeting someone with whom I can’t communicate through words” is precisely the kind of thing that sparks a positive chemical reaction. By “can’t communicate through words,” I don’t mean that we can’t understand each other’s Japanese or English—I mean that our logical structures or frameworks of perception are different.In those moments when you realize, “I’m in an overwhelming minority—my brain works differently!”—I think that’s when a chemical reaction occurs: the moment you have to figure out how to remain true to yourself within that context. It’s like the moment when two substances mix together.
That’s why I don’t want Creative-LAB. to be a place with too much homogeneity. Precisely because it’s free, I think the ideal scenario is for people with diverse backgrounds, different ways of thinking, various ideologies, and unique creative projects to come together—creating a kind of rowdy, uncontrollable classroom atmosphere.Universities don’t really work that way, do they? People end up grouping with others who are studying the same things and come from the same income bracket—no matter what. You end up with a scenario where some people are paying close attention in class while others are chatting in the back. But it should be more free—elementary school was free, wasn’t it? I’m wondering if we can recreate that kind of space through Creative-LAB.
FIG.3
Takano: While being that kind of place, we also want to ensure there’s genuine mutual respect—that’s the environment we’re aiming to create. That’s the background behind why we’re using the term “Creative.” I mean, it’s like, “What even is ‘creative’?” but we’re deliberately taking it broadly.We’re technically talking about architecture, design, and art, but by taking a broad approach, I hope people from those fields will mix and interact. The ASIBA operations team is quite homogeneous in that many members have backgrounds in architecture—which I actually think is a bit of a problem—but I feel like the participants in ASIBA’s programs themselves have been becoming more diverse lately.
Takano: Next, there’s a statement that says it’s extremely difficult to balance making a living with not selling your soul.As a concept for program design, the idea of earning money while doing what you want—but without wavering from your core principles or losing sight of your vision—is ideal, but difficult in reality. How do you maintain that balance? Or what do you think is necessary to maintain it?
Morihara: I think it starts with not making a living (laughs). I believe that’s crucial. If making a living comes first—if you end up doing only what you can do or only what you want to do—you inevitably get caught up in that “I’m making a living” mindset, and your basic survival needs get met.Gradually, that survival instinct starts to fade away. So, I want you to affirm—to tell yourself—that you’re taking on challenges even when you can’t make ends meet. I think that’s a really great challenge to take on. Even if you don’t have any skills yet, tell yourself, “I want to make this my career, I’ll only take on this kind of work, and I’m alive because I want to create this.”If you gradually clarify that stance while taking on small jobs, you’ll eventually be able to make a living. First, define yourself. Define who you are—what kind of person you are, what kind of work you do—and even if you can’t make ends meet at first, you’ll gradually be able to. I did that for about two years, and after two years, you’ll be able to make a living.I think whether you can maintain that stance really comes down to whether you can endure it. However, not being able to make a living isn’t good, so I believe we have to find a way to ensure we can at least make ends meet—both as part of the social system and for our own sake. That’s why it’s important to maintain the purity of your creativity by refusing to “sell your soul” for work.
FIG.4
Sudo: That’s tough. I might have a strong engineer’s mindset, so I feel like engineers can make a living based on their skills—if you study hard enough, you can make a decent living. So I feel like I have a better safety net than Morihara, and in that sense, that’s exactly why I can take on these challenges.
Takano: That’s true. That’s really close to how I feel, too.
Sudo: Oh, maybe so. Maybe so. Connecting back to what we were talking about earlier, that kind of confidence might be there for me, too. There’s the idea that “I want to create because I’m confident I can change society,” and also, “I can keep pushing because I’m confident I won’t die.”
Takano: I’m sure Morihara had that kind of confidence, too.
Morihara: Ah, but I actually think I’m highly replaceable. How should I put it? It was like that back then, and it’s still like that now. I tend to think of myself as someone who can’t really do anything. That’s exactly why I feel like I have to work really hard, or try making all kinds of things—I feel like I’ve got no time to stand still. I think that mindset is probably ingrained in me structurally.
Takano: That’s surprising. You’d think a University of Tokyo student would be the very embodiment of replaceability (laughs).
Morihara: That’s not true at all (laughs).
Takano: I think about half of the special resonance we associate with the word “creative” actually comes from the fact that it’s seen as irreplaceable. I’m the type who doesn’t get bored even when doing hands-on, operational work—I can just keep at it—so I actually think I’m incredibly replaceable, and I’m wondering what to do about that (laughs).But lately, I’ve been thinking that maybe it’s okay to be replaceable. As long as I feel like it’s actually contributing to social value, I’m happy with that. After all, the only way to become irreplaceable is by actually doing the work.
Morihara: That’s true. It doesn’t just happen on its own. I totally agree. I think that when you actually do it, you put yourself in perspective and come to understand what kind of things you really want to create. Even if you keep an idea tucked away inside, it won’t come out—but when you put it out into the world or step outside your comfort zone, that’s when you finally put things into perspective and discover your identity.
Credit
Related Works
Creating is Living for Each of Us
Creative-LAB. Organizing Team Roundtable #1
DIALOGUE
2025.07.29.
