Paul Haimes

This article traces a thread between Edo-period garden design and modern Japanese ambient music (kankyō ongaku). It focuses on the suikinkutsu — a buried ceramic pot beside a stone basin that produces soft, resonant echoes from dripping water — as an early example of deliberate environmental sound design. This tradition is connected to artists like Hiroshi Yoshimura, whose work blends synthesizers with natural sounds. Both the suikinkutsu and kankyō ongaku share the same aesthetic logic: unobtrusive sounds that reward attentive, contemplative listening rather than demanding attention outright.

This research investigates the historical origins of porcelain pottery from Hasami and Arita in western Kyushu, Japan, emphasizing the crucial yet often overlooked role of Korean potters, who were forcibly brought to Japan during the Imjin War (1592–1598). A striking contrast emerges between the euphemistic narratives found in Kyushu museums—where Koreans (if they are mentioned at all) are described as having been "brought back" to Japan—and the emotive views of Soetsu Yanagi (1889-1961), founder of the Mingei (folk crafts) movement. Despite the foundational contributions of Korean artisans—particularly figures like Ri Sam-Pei—many museums in Kyushu either downplay or completely omit the violent context behind the emergence of the region’s pottery traditions. Hasami ware especially, known today for its elegant simplicity, clearly reflects Korean influence. Yanagi, on the other hand, openly acknowledged the suffering endured by Koreans during Japanese invasions and colonial rule, arguing that the depth and minimalist beauty of Korean ceramics arose from this very history of hardship. He described this aesthetic as Hiai No Bi (the “Beauty of Sorrow”), a concept that, while influential, has also sparked controversy. While some scholars value Yanagi’s admiration for Korean craftsmanship, others critique his romanticization of trauma and the colonial context in which he wrote. By juxtaposing current museum presentations with Yanagi’s forthright–though contested–perspective, this study advocates for a more truthful and comprehensive account of Kyushu porcelain pottery’s origins. It urges cultural institutions to move beyond the sanitized or even absent narratives, embracing the diverse influences and complex histories that have shaped Japanese craft and design.

This free textbook is based on notes from a previous course of mine called “Design and Society”, which was then updated for a new “Liberal Arts Experience” course on Japanese design, taught in the College of Global Liberal Arts at Ritsumeikan University. Unimaginatively, the new course is called “Exploring Japanese Design”, and, for now, so is the book. The notes have been transformed into chapters at various times throughout 2025-2026, so some chapters may feel a little different to others. I hope people find them useful. The first half introduces key concepts in Japanese aesthetics and examines the Mingei movement alongside traditional arts and crafts, including pottery, textiles, calligraphy, sumi ink painting, and woodblock printing. The second half explores modern and contemporary design in Japan, focusing on graphic design, environmental design (architecture), and product design. For now, there are no introduction on conclusion chapters, but I may write these in the future if I feel there is a need for them. Chapters 1. Aesthetics in Japan 2. The Mingei Movement 3. Pottery and Textiles 4. Ink Brushes, Seals, and Printmaking 5. Graphic Design 6. Environmental Design 7. Product Design

The word aesthetics, as used in Human-Computer Interaction (HCI), tends to refer to visual characteristics of an interface. Furthermore, it is broadly taken to mean beauty, which, while a significant aspect of aesthetics, is not its only concern. Unfortunately, HCI tends to hold a narrow-sighted view of the topic that often ignores a rich history of discourse. Aesthetics is a key concern of philosophy, considering our perception of the natural and artefactual world. In more recent times, it has grown to consider all of our sensory perceptions of the world around us, where our encounters with everyday objects and environments are two areas of interest. Here, I explain how HCI describes aesthetics and give an overview of philosophical approaches to aesthetics, show where some common ground lies between the two, and suggest how aesthetic categorisations could work for artefacts in HCI.

In this article, I reflect on why Japan, a country steeped in beautiful, functional simplicity and wabi-sabi aesthetics, has so many websites that appear cluttered and difficult to read. Drawing on examples from architecture, design, and everyday culture, I consider how this sublime sense of simplicity has not translated to Japanese web interfaces. I suggest that cultural resistance to change may be one reason, and argue for web design that unites Japan’s Zen-inspired traditions with contemporary web practices.

Though interest in philosophy within Interaction Design (IxD) has grown, few examples rely on virtue ethics as a guiding framework. This paper explores how virtue ethics, with its focus on character and human flourishing, can inform the design of gamified systems. Drawing on Nussbaum’s account of non-relative virtues, it shows how these can be utilized to shape experiences that extend beyond motivation or efficiency and instead contribute to well-being across diverse cultural contexts. Two contributions are made. First, a conceptual grounding is provided by mapping Nussbaum’s seven domains—mortality, the body, pleasure and pain, cognition, early development, affiliation, and humour—onto gamification design goals. Second, the paper proposes a set of practical, virtue-based questions that can be used in user testing, enabling designers to assess whether gamified systems support flourishing in meaningful ways. The role of adaptive AI is also emphasized as a mediator between universal virtues and cultural particularities, tailoring feedback and challenges to individual and social needs. In doing so, it positions virtue ethics as a bridge between universal values and local cultural practices, highlighting adaptive AI’s potential role in mediating this relationship. By situating gamification within virtue ethics, the paper aims to reorientate IxD from short-term engagement metrics toward the broader, long-term goal of designing for human flourishing.

Shibumi, a Japanese term referring to a subtle elegance, but at times suggestive of austerity or even bitterness, captures a certain sense of restraint that is reflected in much traditional Japanese design. Although concepts derived from Japanese Zen Buddhism, such as ma, wabi-sabi, and iki, may be more commonly known to English-speaking audiences, this article proposes that shibumi is the more appropriate concept to apply when considering the minimalist nature inherent in much Japanese design. Moreover, this article suggests that shibumi and modernist design tastes may be compatible, despite past suggestions to the contrary. To support this viewpoint, I point to evidence in the ongoing design trends in Japanese design that continue to embrace several of the ideals of twentieth-century modernist design.

Machizukuri (literally “neighborhood making”) is a recent approach to community development in Japan, beginning in the 1960s, that aims to empower local communities in the development of their built environments through “more participation, independence in the decision-making process, and the establishment of a true democracy that [gives] voice to the whole scope of the Japanese population.”[1] Those of us “who use or visit those places as dwellers, visitors, and guests... have [a] role to play in the project of world-making,” and machizukuri places local communities at the center of this world-making.[2] Residents and small business owners work with government administrators and corporations to address local concerns, often represented by organizations that derive “from traditional autonomous townspeople management groups that have existed since the Edo period [1603-1868]... [T]oday, the majority of households in Japanese traditional residential areas engage in these neighborhood associations.”[3] Machizukuri plays a key role in maintaining a sense of cultural tradition in the neighborhoods of many Japanese cities by allowing local citizens to participate in this world-making.[4]