Designing Modern Japan
By Sarah Teasley
Reaktion Books (2022)
ISBN-13: 978-1780232027
Review by David Tonge
Sarah Teasley introduces Designing Modern Japan with a recollection:
‘Early in the autumn of 1991, I walked into a bookshop in Osaka and my world changed forever. I had been in Japan for a few weeks. I had only meant to browse but found myself transfixed by a metres wide expanse of magazines, all to do with architecture and design.’ (p.9)
This opener brought a smile to my face and triggered a memory of finding myself in Aoyama books in Tokyo for the first time in the mid-90’s, only to be confronted with rows of hefty and, as Teasley puts it, ‘achingly beautifully’ architecture and design journals, alongside magazines on every topic imaginable servicing the Japanese desire for information and consumption.
Let me say upfront, if you are looking for a coffee table book with photographs of the latest trends in Japanese design and architecture to impress your visitors, this is not the book for you. While considering Japanese design from an aesthetic viewpoint, Teasley’s focus is to explain design’s role and influence on Japanese culture, business, education and government policy. It’s a ‘under the hood’ look at an industry which had become one of Japan’s globally recognised soft powers and is to my knowledge the ONLY book of its kind.
Designing Modern Japan is jargon free, easy to read and a thoroughly researched book, packed full of great illustrations that take us on a journey from the middle of the 19th century to present day. Organised chronologically into five chapters, through human stories, Teasley paints a picture of the relationship of design to people, their lives and their community’s survival.
While this book can certainly be read from beginning to end, I have been dipping into the topics and time periods which have personal interest. And in that sense, for me, this book is a perfect – random access – companion to other reading you might engage in to further your interest in Japanese design.
For example, I was immediately drawn to chapter two – ‘100 yen cultured living’ from page 77. Perhaps this is because of the popularity of 100 yen stores in Japan! or because I have a passion for design which impacts real people and their lives rather than the kind of design which is only for those in the know, and with the means to afford (of which we sadly see a lot these days).
But more than these, it was the engaging photograph of a young married couple which caught my attention. In 1934, photographer Kageyama Koyo decided to capture himself, his wife, Shizuko, and their possessions while seated for breakfast. The photo beautifully documents the ubiquitous influence of design on life in Japan at that moment in time, and surely was a precursor to our modern-day obsession of sharing the minutiae of our daily lives via Instagram etc. Teasley deftly describes the significance of the photo, the objects captured and the social context within which it fits –
‘…breakfast was buttered toast and black tea, the former toasted on a portable electric grill, the latter brewed in a large ceramic teapot, strained and drunk from Art Deco patterned porcelain teacups with handles. A jaunty lamp sits above the desk. Someone has taken care to distinguish these particular brands of butter and tea from their competitors through logos and packaging design.’ (p.77)
In this short excerpt we learn much about where Japan was at its capture, including the growing influence of the west and the recognition of designs ability to differentiate and sell commodity items. She goes on to explain how the Kageyamas life exemplified the growing influence of the social reformer’s use of design, to change how people lived –
‘…In their work and everyday habits, the Kageyamas were participants in a self-consciously urban, planned life and its promotion to others, produced largely through design.’ (p.78)
And it was in this context that ‘100-yen cultured living’ meant a carefully planned life, produced largely through design. Not the kind of life, achieved through excessive consumption at 100 yen stores which we can see in modern day Japan!
Joking aside, what I find fascinating about this chapter, as a designer working with Japanese companies, is that the early 20th century was a turning point for people’s interest in everyday items such as aprons, bookshelves, lamps and toast. All of which would have been, hitherto, overlooked and undesigned. As this interest grew, retailers and manufacturers recognised a business opportunity and focused more attention on product development, branding and advertising. And particularly interesting according to Teasley is the Japanese Governments interest in promoting design
‘…Politicians and civil servants too continued their campaign to strengthen manufacturing firms earning power by teaching design, particularly for export markets but also for the growing domestic market.’ (p.78)
This government involvement in design in Japan is interesting to compare with the UK or US where design is by and large left to the private manufacturer to educate themselves about how and what to design for where. But this ‘long arm’ of government can still be seen to promote Japanese culture and design overseas today, through collaborations with foreign professionals and exhibitions overseas. And at the regional level where local manufacturers of ceramics, lacquerware and so on collaborate with overseas and local designers to both promote their products and educate their teams.
As mentioned, my own connection with Japanese design started in the mid-90s and has more to do with the names, brands and activities highlighted in the epilogue than the chapters proceeding it. But reading this book has uncovered, corrected and clarified so much of what I thought I knew about the history of design in Japan and how modern-day Japanese design and society relate to it. It’s done nothing less than given me a foundation on which to place my own experiences.
They say context is everything don’t they? Throughout every chapter of Designing Modern Japan Sarah Teasley describes the complex jigsaw of Japanese design in the context of society, business, government and real people in a way that, for this reader, is engaging and fascinating. As I said at the beginning, if you want a coffee table book of the latest Japanese design trends this is not for you. But if you really want to understand why design matters to Japan, this is a great place to start and is highly recommended.