Hiroki Takahashi

LEGENDARY INTERVIEW

Design Legends ("DL") had the distinct honour to interview legendary designer Hiroki Takahashi ("HT") for their original perspective and innovative approach to design as well as their creative lifestyle, we are very pleased to share our interview with our distinguished readers.

DL: Could you please tell us a bit about your design background and education?

HT : My design journey began long before formal education—shaped by quiet moments in childhood when light, space, and silence left vivid impressions. Those early memories eventually led me to study architecture at a university in Japan, where I deepened my understanding of proportion, materiality, and form. Over the past two decades, I have dedicated myself to projects in which atmosphere and clarity take precedence over display. My focus remains on residences and cultural spaces where architecture becomes a vessel of presence. Recognitions such as the Good Design Award and the A’ Design Award have encouraged this path of refinement.

DL: What motivates you to design in general, why did you become a designer?

HT : I have always been drawn to the subtle ways space speaks—how a shadow stretches across a wall, how silence gives weight to form. These impressions did not ask for explanation; they quietly accumulated. Choosing to become a designer was not a single decision, but rather the deepening of a sensitivity that had been present since early childhood. What continues to motivate me is the possibility that a single space, composed with care, can resonate beyond time and language.

DL: Did you choose to become a designer, or you were forced to become one?

HT : Becoming a designer was not a decision marked by a single moment. It unfolded quietly over time, guided by an early sensitivity to space, light, and silence. From childhood, I was drawn to the way stillness could shape perception, and how architecture could become a vessel for feeling. That quiet attraction gradually formed a direction, shaped less by intent and more by resonance.

DL: What do you design, what type of designs do you wish to design more of?

HT : I design residences and cultural spaces shaped by silence, light, and material depth. My lifelong philosophy is grounded in the union where silence and light merge. I am drawn to spaces that refine perception—where time, light, and memory come into quiet alignment. I will continue to shape architecture that remains through presence, not appearance.

DL: What should young designers do to become a design legend like you?

HT : Listen closely to your inner voice. Each person's sensibility is irreplaceable, and design matures through attention to what quietly stirs within. Observe how light rests on surfaces, how silence deepens space, and how a simple line can carry meaning. There is no need to rush. Let time become your teacher, and let your own rhythm take root.

DL: What distinguishes between a good designer and a great designer?

HT : A good designer creates clarity. A great designer cultivates presence. Presence emerges when design carries an attention so quiet and profound that it reaches beyond form—into silence, into light, into the subtle emotions that reside within space. Greatness lies not in impression but in quiet resonance. It stays long after the moment has passed, gently echoing in memory.

DL: What makes a good design a really good design, how do you evaluate good design?

HT : A truly good design reveals its presence with clarity and depth. It does not rely on explanation—it resonates through proportion, light, silence, and atmosphere. Such a design offers something beyond usefulness: a moment of recognition, a sense that the space belongs to the rhythm of the soul. I value designs that remain with us—not as spectacle, but as experience. When a design is quietly unforgettable, when it becomes part of how we feel or remember a place, then it has fulfilled its purpose.

DL: What is the value of good design? Why should everyone invest in good design?

HT : Good design refines the way we live—not through excess, but through coherence. When space, light, and material align with clarity and care, they nurture calm, trust, and quiet joy. It is in such environments that we think more deeply, feel more fully, and remember more vividly. Investing in good design is not about luxury. It is about choosing to live with intention. It means creating surroundings that respect the rhythms of our lives and bring meaning to the everyday.

DL: What would you design and who would you design for if you had the time?

HT : If time allowed, I would design a residence on a gentle slope overlooking water— a place where light drifts across the floor throughout the day, and where each breeze traces a moment. It would be for someone who quietly notices these rhythms, someone who values presence without display. The architecture would remain calm and open, gently engaging with its surroundings through proportion,

DL: What is the dream project you haven’t yet had time to realize?

HT : There is a place I often envision—a home overlooking a still lake, where light, silence, and memory are allowed to unfold without interruption. Not a retreat, but a space in quiet dialogue with the horizon. It would be designed not to display architecture, but to let time and atmosphere settle naturally. This project is not driven by scale or ambition, but by a deep longing to shape a place that feels inevitable—as if it has always belonged to the land.

DL: What is your secret recipe of success in design, what is your secret ingredient?

HT : If there is something that guides my work, it is resonance. Not as a technique, but as a way of sensing—how a space, a material, or a light speaks before any form is defined. I trust that when design emerges from this quiet attunement, it gains clarity and presence without force. The most lasting spaces I’ve created often began with a subtle feeling rather than a strong idea.

DL: Who are some other design masters and legends you get inspired from?

HT : I hold deep respect for the architectural sensibilities of Oscar Niemeyer, Louis Kahn, Tadao Ando, and Peter Zumthor. Their works embody a quiet power—spaces shaped by light, gravity, and a reverence for stillness.

DL: What are your favorite designs by other designers, why do you like them?

HT : One design that continues to resonate with me is Oscar Niemeyer's Palazzo Mondadori. Its sweeping colonnades and floating volume create a sense of serenity that feels both monumental and weightless. The building seems to defy gravity not for spectacle, but to let space breathe. There is a quiet dignity in how it belongs to its setting—calm, assured, and timeless.

DL: What is your greatest design, which aspects of that design makes you think it is great?

HT : One of my most cherished works is a small tea house built in the spirit of sukiya architecture. It is a space shaped not by scale or formality, but by quiet presence and thoughtful intention. The proportions follow a rhythm refined through tradition, and each element—timber, paper, shadow, and stillness—was selected with care. It is a place for quiet dialogue, for moments that exist only once. In this project, I see the essence of what draws me to architecture: the subtle power of space to hold emotion, time, and beauty without explanation.

DL: How could people improve themselves to be better designers, what did you do?

HT : To become a better designer, I believe one must begin by refining awareness— not just of form and function, but of the unseen forces that shape a space: light, silence, memory, and presence. I’ve always tried to stay close to things that move me deeply, whether it’s a line of poetry, a moment of stillness, or a material that seems to carry time. Rather than accumulating methods, I focus on deepening perception. Design begins long before the drawing— in how we listen, observe, and feel the world around us. That, to me, is where refinement truly begins.

DL: If you hadn’t become a designer, what would you have done?

HT : If I had not become a designer, I would likely still be drawn to spaces where emotion and clarity meet. Perhaps I would have worked with literature, or in some form of visual composition— fields where silence, rhythm, and structure quietly shape meaning. Whatever the path, I believe I would have continued seeking beauty in its quieter, more lasting forms.

DL: How do you define design, what is design for you?

HT : To me, design is a quiet form of presence. It is born from careful listening—to light, to air, to the subtle rhythm of life. Every proportion and texture speaks not of function alone, but of feeling. A well-designed space does not declare itself—it breathes with its surroundings. When architecture aligns with the pace of human thought and the stillness of memory, it becomes part of time rather than resisting it. Design, then, is not a separate activity, but a way of inhabiting the world gently, with care.

DL: Who helped you to reach these heights, who was your biggest supporter?

HT : I have been quietly supported by many— my family, who gave me stillness and strength, my friends, who brought warmth and perspective, and my clients, who entrusted me with their hopes. Their presence was never loud, but enduring—rooted in trust, in moments of silence, and in the quiet act of walking together. To all who shared this path, I carry deep gratitude. Certain spaces, too, have walked beside me. Architecture, at its core, is lived and felt— not just seen or assembled. When resonance occurs, the space endures, quietly and beyond time.

DL: What helped you to become a great designer?

HT : What helped me was not a single event or achievement, but the quiet accumulation of attention— to light, to shadow, to time, and to the spaces in between. I spent years refining how I perceive, not just how I create. In silence, I listened to architecture speak. In solitude, I sensed its breath. Each detail became a teacher. Each project, a mirror of clarity. What shaped me most was the commitment to keep walking with care, even when the path was unseen.

DL: What were the obstacles you faced before becoming a design master?

HT : There were periods when the world moved too quickly— when the tempo of society felt misaligned with the slow unfolding of space I valued. In those moments, sustaining a design practice rooted in quietude, material honesty, and timeless clarity required unwavering patience and attention. There were also practical challenges—projects that tested the balance between clarity and compromise, and contexts that required stillness amid noise. Yet these experiences sharpened my focus and deepened the trust I place in architecture as a vessel of presence. I am grateful that recognitions like the A’ Design Award have affirmed this path—quiet, deliberate, and enduring.

DL: How do you think designers should present their work?

HT : Design should be presented with the same clarity and restraint with which it was conceived. Its quiet presence should emerge naturally, without relying on decoration or overstatement. Drawings, models, and images should reveal the inner structure of thought and atmosphere—precise, calm, and true to the spirit of the work. When presentation becomes an extension of the design’s own voice, it invites others into silent understanding. True presence does not require emphasis. It resonates when given space.

DL: What’s your next design project, what should we expect from you in future?

HT : My next works continue to explore quiet spaces—residences and retreats where architecture becomes a vessel for light, stillness, and the resonance of human memory. Each project grows from the land’s atmosphere, the changing seasons, and the unseen rhythms of daily life. I seek to create spaces where a quiet presence lingers—shaped to resonate softly and lastingly with those who inhabit or simply pass through. Light, silence, and memory become the architecture’s true materials. This journey, rooted in attentiveness and care, will continue to unfold—gently, wherever it leads.

DL: What’s your ultimate goal as a designer?

HT : We create architecture where silence and light merge. Space becomes infinite when it resonates with a person’s emotional essence, and carries memory through its form. My ultimate goal is to shape spaces that awaken this resonance— where my aesthetic and the client’s worldview quietly meet, and where architecture does not impose, but invites. They stay, softly, in the inner landscape of those who pass through them.

DL: What people expect from an esteemed designer such as yourself?

HT : People may seek clarity, care, and a sense of presence that endures. I believe they look for a quiet confidence—someone who can listen deeply, understand atmospheres, and shape spaces that hold more than function. They may expect not answers, but perspective. Not performance, but presence. To respond with attentiveness and integrity is the least I can offer.

DL: How does design help create a better society?

HT : Design has the quiet ability to shift perception. When a space brings stillness, clarity, and dignity into daily life, it can gently reshape how we treat others—and ourselves. A well-considered environment cultivates attentiveness. It does not need to instruct, but it can inspire. In this way, design contributes not by declaration, but by resonance.

DL: What are you currently working on that you are especially excited about?

HT : I’m currently developing several private residences and cultural spaces, each rooted in its landscape and attuned to light, shadow, and the quiet rhythm of everyday life. One project, in particular, explores the interplay between raw materials and the passage of time—where surfaces are meant to age gracefully and atmosphere carries memory. What excites me most is not scale, but depth: the possibility of creating a space that feels inevitable, as though it has always belonged.

DL: Which design projects gave you the most satisfaction, why?

HT : One of the most quietly fulfilling projects was a small tea house built in the sukiya tradition. Its dimensions followed a tactile clarity—each element attuned to hold silence, host impermanence, and honor presence. The space breathed with light, seasons, and stillness. It embodied a long-held reverence I carry for architecture as a lived poem.

DL: What would you like to see changed in design industry in the coming years?

HT : I hope the design industry continues to deepen its appreciation for spaces shaped by time, atmosphere, and clarity. When design grows from attentive observation and quiet discipline, it gains a presence that lingers beyond trends. Architecture has the potential to offer not just form, but resonance—touching lives in ways that words cannot. A future rooted in care, subtlety, and lasting meaning would elevate the profession for generations to come.

DL: Where do you think the design field is headed next?

HT : I see the future of design as a quiet evolution—where creation and continuity, rupture and inheritance, begin to merge. Not a linear progression, but a deepening spiral—folding memory into innovation, and clarity into form. Design will no longer seek to impress, but to endure; no longer to declare, but to reveal. In this rhythm, each work becomes a pulse—of what has been, and what quietly longs to emerge. And from this convergence, a new architecture of presence may unfold.

DL: How long does it take you to finalize a design project?

HT : There is no fixed duration—each project unfolds at its own pace, shaped by the land, the people, and the nature of the request. Some are realized within a year, others take five years or more, depending on legal conditions, technical complexity, and the depth of dialogue with the client. Sometimes the design emerges like a single stroke of calligraphy. Other times, it calls for long observation, careful revisions, and mutual listening. Architecture, I believe, reveals itself when both the designer and the client are ready to receive it. In this sense, time is not a limit—it is a quiet collaborator.

DL: When you have a new design project, where do you start?

HT : I begin by sensing the atmosphere of the site—its light, silence, topography, and the unseen rhythms that dwell there. Before any lines are drawn, I listen. To the land, to the client's voice, and to what the space itself might already be whispering. The process is less about shaping something from the outside, and more about allowing something essential to emerge from within.

DL: What is your life motto as a designer?

HT : My life as an architect is shaped by a quiet pursuit— the merging of silence and light, and the resonance between space and human perception. When architecture reaches beauty, a fleeting moment becomes eternal. Perhaps I am simply a seeker, drawn toward that beauty. What I wish for is simple: that the spaces I create resonate with those who live within them, remain quietly over time, and bring a gentle stillness to their lives. If that stillness brings them happiness, I am deeply grateful.

DL: Do you think design sets the trends or trends set the designs?

HT : Design sets the trends—when it resonates deeply with human essence. True design does not chase novelty; it reveals what has always been within us. Such design quietly shapes culture

DL: What is the role of technology when you design?

HT : Technology serves quietly—refining precision, unfolding material, and extending the dialogue between light and form. But when architecture reaches beauty, it transcends tools. It becomes a moment where technique, emotion, and art converge into perfect alignment—like a silent equation expressing harmony.

DL: What kind of design software and equipment do you use in your work?

HT : I use Vectorworks for drawing and Rhino with Grasshopper when spatial precision or generative studies are required. Adobe tools support my presentations and visual compositions. Yet beyond software, I trust scale models, hand sketches, and silent observation to guide the essence of each space from its earliest stage.

DL: What is the role of the color, materials and ambient in design?

HT : Color, materials, and ambient are not decorative elements—they are the architecture’s silent voice. Materials hold time within them; color shifts with light; and ambient is the resonance of all elements in stillness. Together, they shape how a space is felt rather than seen. When chosen with care and restraint, they allow architecture to resonate with dignity and presence.

DL: What do you wish people to ask about your design?

HT : I hope people might ask not just what a space is, but how it feels to be within it. Does it breathe with you? Does it slow your thoughts? Does it hold something you cannot explain? These questions matter more than technical descriptions or visual appeal. If a space invites such quiet reflection, then I believe the design has done its part.

DL: When you see a new great design or product what comes into your mind?

HT : When I encounter a truly resonant design, I pause. Not because it is impressive, but because it feels inevitable— as if it has always existed, waiting to be discovered. I wonder what silence shaped it. What slowness refined it. What honesty allowed it to remain unadorned.

DL: Who is your ideal design partner? Do you believe in co-design?

HT : I believe in resonance over hierarchy. My ideal design partner is someone who listens—not only to words, but to the rhythm of the site, the weight of materials, and the silence between ideas. True collaboration does not demand agreement. It invites presence. When that presence is shared with attentiveness and mutual respect, architecture begins to breathe.

DL: Which people you interacted had the most influence on your design?

HT : Rather than a single individual, it has been moments of quiet interaction— with craftsmen who honor the grain of wood, with clients who speak through gestures more than words, with mentors whose presence shaped without instruction. Each of these encounters has left a subtle imprint. They have sharpened my sensibility toward what cannot be taught— trust, rhythm, and the humility to let space speak for itself.

DL: Which books you read had the most effect on your design?

HT : Among many influential writings, “Emotion and Creation” by Kiyoshi Oka left a lasting imprint. His reflections on intuition, clarity, and the deep connection between emotion and mathematics resonated profoundly with how I perceive architecture. Rather than teaching method, his words revealed a way of seeing— a space where precision and feeling are not at odds, but converge into something quietly luminous. It reminded me that architecture, too, is not only built through logic, but through sensitivity that cannot be diagrammed.

DL: How did you develop your skills as a master designer?

HT : My skills evolved through quiet and sustained attention— to how light moves across surfaces, how space gathers time, and how memory finds a home in form. Each project became a quiet teacher. By staying close to the materials, the land, and those who dwell within, I began to shape with greater clarity and care.

DL: Irrelative of time and space, who you would want to meet, talk and discuss with?

HT : If freed from time and distance, I would quietly sit with those whose lives shaped the invisible foundations of beauty and truth. Albert Einstein, Nikola Tesla, Michelangelo, Oscar Niemeyer, Kiyoshi Oka, and Louis Kahn—

DL: How do you feel about all the awards and recognition you had, is it hard to be famous?

HT : When a design receives an award, I see it as a moment of shared sensitivity— a quiet affirmation that the spaces I create resonate beyond language or place. It is not a spotlight, but a reflection— a soft signal that silence, light, and memory can still reach people, gently.

DL: What is your favorite color, place, food, season, thing and brand?

HT : My favorite color is a deep blue that evokes the cosmos—profound, calm, and timeless. I’m most drawn to places where water meets the sky: Lake Como, Lake Geneva, and the Mediterranean. I enjoy sushi and Mediterranean cuisine—both honoring clarity and seasonality. Autumn resonates most deeply with me, when light turns tender and time slows in reflection. Among objects, I treasure a well-crafted fountain pen—an instrument that extends thought in silence. As for craftsmanship, I admire the ties of Angelo Fusco for their quiet elegance and timeless refinement.

DL: Please tell us a little memoir, a funny thing you had experienced as a designer?

HT : During one early site visit, I stood silently for over twenty minutes, simply observing how the morning light moved across a wall. A local contractor, growing slightly nervous, whispered to a colleague, “He might be meditating… or maybe he’s lost?” I smiled and finally said, “The wall just revealed its answer.” We all laughed.

DL: What makes your day great as a designer, how do you motivate yourself?

HT : A great day begins with silence. Sometimes it is the quiet light across a drawing table. Sometimes it is a wordless gesture from a client—when their eyes pause at a space in the model, and you know it resonates. What sustains me is not motivation in the usual sense, but a kind of quiet pull— the sense that something essential is waiting to be found. I do not chase inspiration. I listen for it. And when it arrives, even gently, the day feels whole.

DL: When you were a little child, was it obvious that you would become a great designer?

HT : I would not say it was obvious. But there were quiet signs— how I would gaze at white curved surfaces, sensing something infinite beyond form. I didn’t yet know the word “architecture,” but I sensed that space could speak— not through objects, but through silence, proportion, and light. Looking back, that quiet curiosity had already begun to shape the way I saw the world.

DL: What do you think about future; what do you see will happen in thousand years from now?

HT : A thousand years from now, I believe the essence of beauty will still be quietly present— not as ornament or spectacle, but as a quiet harmony between human sensitivity and the unseen rhythms of the world. Technology may reach unimaginable levels, but I sense that what touches us most will remain timeless: a beam of light across stone, the weight of silence, the resonance of memory held in space. In that far future, I imagine architecture will no longer be a task of control— but a gentle alignment with nature, emotion, and meaning.

DL: Please tell us anything you wish your fans to know about you, your design and anything else?

HT : I create to resonate— to leave behind something that quietly lingers in the hearts of those who encounter it. For me, architecture is presence. A presence that endures, gently, even after one has left the space. If you have ever entered one of my spaces and felt something unspoken, then we have already shared something meaningful. Thank you for meeting me there.