Interviews with Yuko Suzuki

After graduating from university, I wanted to start working right away, and at the time, the design industry seemed like the most accessible path for me.

I never really intended to become a designer, and even now, I don’t consider myself one. I’ve just been taking on the work in front of me, always hoping to learn something new along the way.

I create visuals based on algorithmic approaches and code-driven processes. This is the type of work I’d love to continue exploring and producing more of in the future.

I’m definitely not a legend. (laughs)

Hmm… maybe it’s whether they have a clear and consistent sense of aesthetics.

Perhaps it’s something that doesn’t draw attention to itself — something that goes unnoticed by most people.

I would love to create work that reinterprets the systems and structures of the world, driven by my own curiosity.

I believe success is somewhat random, and there is no secret formula for it.

I constantly keep learning.

I would have become a neuroscientist.

Design feels like something that helps maintain order in the world

The great creators of the past.

Surprising my clients has helped me grow as a designer.

To connect different worlds through design.

I think it's about being close to people and their everyday lives.

I'm currently learning about the history of Japanese art and craftsmanship.

If the design field stays open and humble, I think it can continue to connect with a wide range of disciplines.

My motto is to always invent.

I think it's both.

I think technology is something that expands the way I think and create.

I use a variety of Adobe software, along with programming languages based on Java and JavaScript.

My ideal design partner is a director who is passionate about creating something new together. I believe in co-design.

The person who had the most influence on my works was my boss, who was about ten years older than me, and who mentored me when I was younger. He was an incredible designer. Although I was often scolded by him, I wouldn’t be who I am today without his guidance.

The book that had the most effect on my works is 'Sanshiro' by Natsume Soseki.

It's about paying attention to the details.

The great creators of the past.

Not at all. I was just a kid who spent every day mimicking Ken Shimura (a famous Japanese comedian) and laughing uncontrollably, without giving any thought to becoming a designer.

I don't know. But I believe the essence of being human may remain the same. That is, of course, if humans are still around.

I currently work as a freelance visual artist under the name mole^3. My work includes video creation using coding, as well as printmaking and sculpture.

Since I’m not a designer, it’s a bit difficult for me to answer this question. But to me, design feels like something that helps maintain order in the world.

I'm not sure if it can be considered "design," but my favorite is shin-hanga. In Japan, after ukiyo-e, a new genre of woodblock prints called shin-hanga emerged — a movement that blended traditional techniques with modern sensibilities.

It was a book design.

My favorite technologies include coding, which I often use in generative art. I also enjoy working with physical materials like wood.

I often feel most creative when I'm walking.

When I design, I place importance on understanding the client’s needs and solving problems effectively.

I want to make others enjoy it.

I feel happy.

I'm not sure, but maybe sincerity.

I guess it would be whether it’s organized, in many different ways.

I think it’s about not overdoing the appeal.

I’m not sure how exactly it’s evolving, but if more designers learn how to code, it could make things a bit more interesting.

The inspiration for my work comes from a sense of a sense of purpose that comes from within. I maintain my creativity through continuous learning.

My design style is algorithmic and code-based, exploring the balance between chaos and order. I'm drawn to systems that generate beauty through unpredictability.

I work as a freelance artist/designer and take on projects as they come.

Once I’ve decided on a direction, I create a prototype. I make sure to share my work frequently throughout the process.

One of the positives of being a designer is that, in a way, you get to create a new world. It’s a form of shaping reality through ideas and visuals. A downside, though, is that it’s easy to forget that many people in the world don’t really care about design—or even notice it. But maybe that’s the same in any field.

My golden rule in design is: A designer is like a performer.

I think humility is the most important skill.

I don’t manage it, to be honest.

I’m not sure, but I’d say raising a child has been one of the most important experiences.

The most fun part is when I’m thinking of different ideas. Not sure why, though.

I work on my designs by myself.

You can contact me via email at mail@printwithcode.org

Through the process of coding, I came to feel that nature and technology are not fundamentally opposed, but are deeply connected at their core. Pixels, while being the smallest units of digital technology, can behave like living cells or organisms. As I depicted the way these pixels gather, move, and transform, I began to see overlaps with human relationships in life — families, schools, workplaces, even nations. It seemed to quietly suggest that all things in the world, regardless of scale, share common structures and rhythms.The relationship between nature and technology is not a simple dichotomy of control and submission, or artificial and natural, but rather something more like co-evolution. I believe we always live on the shifting boundary between the two.In this work, I aimed to express that ambiguity and layering through the movement of pixels and the changes in their structure.

In traditional woodblock printing, the concept of Kasane—the layering of colors one by one through repeated printing—allows for the emergence of unexpected textures and subtle traces of the human hand. Over time, these individual layers merge to form a single image that can no longer be separated into its components. I sought to reimagine this idea of Kasane in a three-dimensional digital space, believing that by maintaining its core structure while changing the medium, a new form of painterly expression could emerge.The principle of Zurashi, or intentional shifting, is expressed not through static misalignment but through subtle changes in time and space—variations in animation timing, or slight shifts in angle and viewpoint within a digital environment. These small displacements create rhythm, fluctuation, and a quiet sense of life.By translating Kasane and Zurashi into the languages of space, time, and code, I explore a mode of expression that connects my printmaking sensibility with my technical curiosity, while also reflecting the fluid ambiguity at the heart of Japanese aesthetics.

The video created from a single photograph lasts only about one minute and thirty seconds, but producing such a continuously and complexly changing animation within a single coding sketch was technically very challenging. This was the main reason why I divided the video into multiple scenes. At that time, I imagined a structure following the traditional four-part narrative of introduction, development, twist, and conclusion, dividing it into four sections symbolizing the flow of life. However, this division brought many challenges both technically and artistically.On the technical side, I paid close attention to ensuring that transitions between scenes would not feel disconnected, carefully adjusting background colors, movement speeds, and noise textures to create a natural continuity. Artistically, I composed the work so that each scene would have a distinct impression while still forming a unified overall structure. Through visual rhythm, the use of negative space, and the layering of colors, I consciously balanced the ambiguous boundary between order and chaos, aiming for each scene to connect organically and form a single flow.Through these challenges, I aimed not simply to place four scenes side by side but to realize a composition that symbolizes a human life, with a single living entity continuously transforming over time.

Printmaking has taught me a way of seeing the world itself. More than any book or experience, it made me reflect on the essence of the world.The printing block and the printed work exist as the same yet different; they are reversed and can be seen as opposing mirrors. This structure, where opposing things arise from one block, reflects the concept of relativity and counterpoints in the world. Also, the fact that multiple prints come from a single block reminds me of cell division, evoking the growth of life. In color separation, different perspectives are integrated and layered to form a single unified world. Printing itself is an act of layering traces of change. As the same block is printed repeatedly, subtle shifts and blurs appear, creating expressions that are similar yet different. This accumulation of repetition and difference resonates with life’s evolution and adaptation to the environment.This mindset rooted in printmaking expanded into new forms of expression through its encounter with coding. Without the experience and thought from printmaking, this work would not have been realized.

Through the act of reconstructing printmaking with code, I came to realize once again that analog and digital are not simply different techniques, but both share the same essence of expression — the way we structure and record the world.To me, code is like a new woodblock, and pixels are like new particles of ink.More importantly, I discovered that the act of writing code, much like carving by hand, becomes a new space for expression where sensation and logic intersect. Within that process, I found myself rediscovering the beauty of chance and subtle deviations, even within the digital realm.

The scale of the four meter by four meter LED screen creates an experience that goes beyond simply watching an image; it allows viewers to immerse themselves within the video. Being aware of this immersion significantly influenced how I designed the movement of pixels and the transitions of color.Fine movements that might be overlooked on a normal screen are enlarged on a large display and become something the viewer can physically feel. Therefore, I gave the pixel movements a certain sense of timing and breathing, aiming for them to resonate with the viewer’s bodily rhythm.The color changes were also designed to avoid sudden shifts, instead using smooth transitions that layer over one another, so that color emerges not only visually but as a spatial sensation.

Being recognized at an international platform such as the A’ Design Award was a great encouragement. What made me especially happy was that the work was appreciated not simply as a result of digital technology, but for expressing the physicality and cultural roots of traditional printmaking through the medium of code.I believe generative art is a rare form of expression that connects diverse elements and concepts. Although it is digital, it has the potential to express the very structure of the world itself.For me, generative art is not a technology to let go of our senses, but rather a technology to expand them. In that sense, I believe this work presents a new form of expression that engages in dialogue with digital technology while remaining rooted in traditional thinking.

The idea that we live within change, and that change itself is essential, is something I have come to believe through personal experience. People have the freedom to change again and again, and we live within that ongoing transformation. This is not simply about passing transitions, but rather a process of reformation, where something ends and a new shape emerges. Deconstruction and regeneration are always interconnected, and that is precisely why I was able to move naturally from traditional woodblock printing into the realm of coding.In this work, I expressed the way pixels slowly form shapes and then dissolve, transitioning cyclically into new orders. This structure is not a simple loop, but a continuous transformation — a circle that returns after change. In the programming process, I aimed for a structure that does not rely on randomness or linear change, but instead allows shapes to unravel over time and be woven again. I believe this created movements that carry the rhythm and breath of life.The feeling that every ending is also a beginning resonates with both nature and the human condition. Through this work, I wanted to visually convey that change is not about loss, but about hope.

What I am working on represents only one aspect of digital art, but I feel that when each person explores their own unique values and perspectives, it contributes to the richness of the entire world of expression.Expressing the tactile sensations and subtle fluctuations that exist between tradition and technology through code was simply something I wanted to do myself, and it was not intended as an effort to advance digital art expression. However, I hope that such efforts will contribute to broadening our understanding of the world.