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Interview with Yuya Nakazawa

Yuya Nakazawa is a furniture maker and video editor whose work bridges analog craft and digital storytelling. He approaches both disciplines as ways of shaping human emotion and experience.

Designer of the Day Interview

2 May 2026

I started my career as a video editor and spent around 15 years shaping other people’s ideas into final forms.
Later, I shifted to woodworking because I wanted to take responsibility for the final outcome myself.
I studied the basics at a woodworking school, then gained practical experience at a furniture workshop.
Now, I design and produce furniture, mainly chairs.

I have always enjoyed making things, and I still work in video editing as an extension of that.
However, I wanted to create not only digitally, but also physically.

I became interested in how form affects human perception and behavior,
and I wanted to be able to control that through my own work.

I prioritize structure, usability, and visual consistency.
I mainly work through making—testing ideas directly with physical prototypes rather than relying only on digital tools.
I try to make sure every line and form has a clear reason.

I feel both tension and excitement.
There is often a gap between what I see and what I can actually achieve, and I stay in that state until it is resolved.

My background in video editing and my experience working with skilled craftsmen.
Editing taught me how to structure and refine, while woodworking taught me how decisions directly affect physical results.

I want to create chairs that can stand on their own without explanation.
My focus is on improving the level of resolution in both structure and form.

Do not ignore discomfort.
If something feels wrong, there is usually a reason, and that is where the work begins.

Have your own criteria.
Deciding what to remove is more important than deciding what to add.

I divide my time between my main work, woodworking, and raising a child.
I try to focus deeply within limited time.

I am aware of trends, but I do not follow them directly.
I prioritize my own judgment over external movements.

A design is good when nothing feels unresolved.
If there is even a small inconsistency, it is not finished.

When further changes no longer improve it.
Until then, I do not consider it complete.

ORUHA Chair.
It was an attempt to balance structural clarity and visual tension through multiple iterations.

Hans J. Wegner.
His work shows a clear relationship between structure and the human body.

I am based in Japan.
Through world traveling, I became aware of how unique Japan is in its precision and cultural layering, and that influences my work.

I mainly work alone to maintain consistency in decisions.
When collaborating, I focus on whether the design intent can be preserved.

I believe creating long-lasting objects is a form of contribution.
It reduces unnecessary consumption over time.

It gave me a chance to test whether my own standards are valid outside my personal environment.
It also helped me reassess my criteria through external evaluation.

Interview about Oruha Chair Design Interview

Design Legend Interview

2 May 2026

Since childhood, I have been fascinated by forms and structures through indie games, music, and scale models. After a 15-year career in video editing, I studied woodworking for one year and received the Top Graduate Award. Subsequently, I worked at a solid wood furniture workshop for four years, learning not only technical skills but also the methodology of decision-making through production. My debut work, "ORUHA," created in my sixth year of woodworking, has achieved eight international design awards.

It started because I couldn't find furniture that I was truly satisfied with. I am interested in how forms influence human perception and behavior, and I believe design is the only way to consciously control those elements.

I chose this path as a transition from digital creation as a video editor to tactile, analog craftsmanship. While I didn't have absolute certainty at first, my conviction grew as I persisted and engaged deeply with the craft. It was only after committing seriously that my choice became clear.

I currently focus on chair designs centered on wood. Moving forward, I aim to create furniture that integrates structural beauty and comfort at an even higher level.

Never give up on believing in yourself. People around you will use various words to obstruct your path; view them as trials. If you can overcome them, you will finally become your true self. I was in that exact position before winning this award.

It depends on where the designer’s perspective lies—how they perceive the world and how they approach it. Simply put, I believe it comes down to the depth of their problem-solving abilities.

A design can only be called "good" when there are no points left to correct. If even a single contradiction is found, it is a failure.

It fundamentally transforms the experience of a space. Long-lasting designs also reduce waste and contribute to a more sustainable society.

I would like to design chairs for public spaces. I want to see how forms behave and function under uncontrolled, diverse usage conditions.

To collaborate with an architect to design furniture not merely as objects, but as an integral part of the architectural space.

Never giving up and never compromising on the goals I have set. Even if a project is near completion, if I find a structural issue, I will discard it and start over.

Leonardo da Vinci, Antoni Gaudí, Susumu Hirasawa, and Hayao Miyazaki. Technically, I am influenced by a highly skilled veteran furniture craftsman I worked with.

Furniture that has survived across generations. Its raison d'être is still clearly expressed within its form today.

Human beings themselves. I find the human structure inherently devoid of waste. Even from a creative standpoint—money, history, religion, capitalism, and morals—everything was designed by humans.

Thorough observation and repetitive prototyping. I constantly keep my antennae up to analyze anything that strikes a chord with me.

I would likely still be working as a video editor.

The act of expressing maximum freedom and beauty within the constraints of functionality.

My family, and the connections I have with friends and acquaintances.

Experience in the field—specifically, learning the decision-making criteria held by a veteran master craftsman.

Time and financial resources.

Taking excellent photographs and organizing one's personal background and philosophy logically.

Developing chairs with new structural concepts and expanding the "ORUHA" series.

To continue creating without interruption throughout my life.

I am not yet sure if I am "renowned," but I believe people expect work that is truly essential.

By creating items that are loved for a long time, I contribute to a sustainable society that does not rely on mass consumption.

Ongoing production and the construction of my own workshop.

"ORUHA Chair." My ideals of structure and beauty were realized without compromise, proving that the idea could physically exist.

As digital technology advances, I hope to see a re-evaluation of the importance of tactile materials and physical sensations.

Most designs will become easier to produce and, consequently, easier to ignore. AI will accelerate this, but what remains will be human judgment—the decision of what to select and what to reject.

Several months, though it varies depending on the number of times I start over.

I begin with small-scale models, then transition to full-scale prototypes.

Never ignore discomfort.

It is like the "chicken and the egg" dilemma where you don't know which came first; I believe design and trends are born while reflecting each other.

Technology increases precision, but it is not a substitute for human judgment.

Hand tools, woodworking machinery, and clay for modeling. I use whatever the required shape demands.

Materials are the core of the design, and the environment is the context in which it exists. Color serves to emphasize the inherent texture of the material.

Questions regarding the "inevitability" of the structure and form.

Whether the thought process that led to that specific form is visible.

An architect.

The Japanese musician Susumu Hirasawa.

"Paintabon!" by Katsuya Terada.

Countless hours of prototyping and a continuous habit of rigorous self-criticism.

My own children when they have reached my current age. I intend to live as a role model for them, and I would like to ask if my path was the right one.

I still don't have a real sense of being "famous."

The color of wood (walnut), orange, salmon roe (Ikura), autumn, and quiet spaces.

When someone saw the clay model of "ORUHA" and asked if I would sell it as a sculpture.

The day a curve I imagined finally takes shape as a beautiful physical line.

Vaguely. I felt that if I remained sincere to my own internal standards, I would eventually reach this point—though this specific recognition came quite suddenly.

Technology will advance exponentially over the next few decades. In 100 years, the world will be beyond our current imagination. As for 1,000 years from now, I simply cannot say.

I will simply continue to create.

Designer Interview

30 April 2026

I started as a video editor, shaping other people’s ideas.
Over time, I realized I had no control over the final form—I was always interpreting, never deciding.
I moved to woodworking because it allowed me to take full responsibility for what I create.
It was not a romantic choice, but a necessary one.

I work independently, focusing on furniture design, primarily chairs.
The studio remains intentionally small to maintain full control over both concept and execution.
Each piece is developed through direct making.

Design is the act of giving form to intention so that it creates a specific response in people.
It is not complete when it functions, but when it affects how a person perceives and behaves in a space.
Structure, function, context, and perception must align—and the form must communicate without explanation.

Objects that directly engage the human body, especially chairs.
They require structure, usability, and presence to exist simultaneously.

Hans J. Wegner’s work is a major reference point for me.
Not as a single piece, but as a body of work where structure, craftsmanship, and human interaction are resolved into forms that feel inevitable.

Wood and hand tools.
They allow direct feedback between hand, structure, and form.

When I define something that did not exist before, based on my own experience and constraints.

I focus on eliminating contradictions between structure, usability, context, and visual perception.
If these do not align, the design cannot stand.

I feel tension and excitement at the same time.
There is also a constant sense of isolation, like being alone in a vast space with no clear answer.

Relief, not satisfaction.
Satisfaction usually means I stopped too early.

Nothing unnecessary, nothing missing.
It resolves structural, functional, contextual, and emotional requirements at once.

A good design feels inevitable.
If it appears adjustable, it is incomplete.

Designers are responsible for what they introduce into the world, not only physically but also culturally.
Design influences how people behave, perceive, and assign value over time.
The role is not to reject others, but to ensure what you create holds meaning within its context.

Design is becoming more visible and more rapidly evaluated.
With AI, large-scale and average-level production will continue to expand.
What remains distinct is work shaped by human judgment—decisions formed through experience, context, and intent.

April 2026, Landry Rice, Minato-ku, Tokyo (Japan)
May 2026, Suwatte Chairs, Scaleworks Gallery, Nagano (Japan)
June 2026, Woodworker Week NAGOYA, Nagoya Area, Nagoya (Japan)

My work is shaped by accumulated experience, materials, cultural context, and the history of objects.
Travel, daily life, and exposure to different environments continuously influence how I see form and function.
Ideas emerge from the interaction between memory, context, and the constraints of making.

I explore continuity within structural constraints.
Every line must carry both structural and visual meaning.

Based in Japan.
Through traveling globally, I realized how unique Japan is in its mix of precision, contradiction, and cultural layering—from traditional craftsmanship to subculture like anime.
This environment creates both discipline and tension in my work.

First, I define structure: usability, strength, and construction.
Then I integrate experience, context, and intuition, eliminating contradictions.
Finally, I refine by hand until no discomfort remains.
If that state cannot be reached, I discard the work.

A small statue I found at a flea market,
tongs designed to measure and mix miso,
a Yogibo cushion,
liquid milk for my child,
and a family photograph.

I divide my time between my primary work, woodworking, and raising a child.

Do not ignore what feels wrong.
That discomfort is where the work begins.

The advantage is the ability to define what should exist.
The disadvantage is carrying full responsibility for whether it truly deserves to exist.

A form is complete only when no further decision improves it.

The ability to recognize inconsistency and act on it.

I mainly use hand tools and woodworking machines.

But in reality, the tool I rely on most is my hands and eyes.
While working, I constantly check small discomforts in the form—things that don’t feel right but are hard to explain.

When I get stuck, I step away from the work.
Walking or doing something unrelated often helps me come back with a clearer sense of what is wrong.

I prioritize resolving the design first.
Time is adjusted to meet that requirement, not the other way around.

It depends on the level of resolution required.

“How much is this chair?”

Traveling globally and experiencing different cultures and environments.
It redefined my understanding of context, value, and form.

Designing objects that must resolve both structure and perception simultaneously.

To create chairs that can stand globally without explanation.
Objects that justify themselves purely through form and presence.

Primarily solo to maintain consistency.

I am currently working on a chair that I have already remade multiple times.

Each time it gets closer, but something still feels unresolved—usually in how the structure transitions into the overall form.
It is not a big, visible problem, but a small inconsistency that keeps the piece from feeling complete.

I am trying to reach a point where the structure, weight, and visual flow all feel inevitable.
Until then, I consider it unfinished, no matter how close it looks.

info@yedit.jp

Design is never isolated.
Every object carries context, history, and accumulated decisions.

Interview about Oruha Chair Grand Interview

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