KEIJI HARADA

From an early age, I was fascinated by space, light, and the relationship between people and architecture. I chose architecture to create quiet and enduring value through design.

Based in Fukuoka, Japan, I design residential, hospitality, and commercial architecture with a focus on calmness, simplicity, and material expression.

To me, design is the process of carefully shaping relationships between people, place, light, and time in a natural and meaningful way.

I especially enjoy designing houses and small-scale architecture because they allow close attention to atmosphere, detail, and everyday human experience.

I admire architecture that creates depth and emotion through proportion, light, materials, and silence rather than excessive visual expression.

Early in my career, I worked on small residential and renovation projects where I learned the importance of detail, proportion, and construction.

I prefer natural materials such as wood, plaster, stone, and concrete because they age beautifully and express honesty through texture and light.

I feel most creative when I discover a unique spatial possibility within practical limitations such as site conditions, structure, or budget.

I focus on creating calm spaces with natural light, thoughtful proportions, honest materials, and an atmosphere where people feel comfortable naturally.

During the design process, I experience deep concentration, tension, and quiet excitement while carefully shaping space and architectural relationships.

When a project is realized, I feel relief and gratitude more than excitement, especially when the architecture feels naturally connected to its place.

Successful design requires a clear concept, careful observation, consistency, and sincere attention to every detail throughout the entire process.

I first consider whether the space feels natural, comfortable, and emotionally balanced for the people who will use it every day.

Designers have a responsibility to create architecture that contributes positively to society, respects the environment, and remains valuable over time.

I believe design will become more essential, sustainable, and emotionally meaningful, focusing less on excess and more on lasting quality.

Although I have limited exhibition experience, I hope to share my architectural work internationally through future exhibitions and publications.

My inspiration comes from everyday life, natural light, landscapes, traditional Japanese culture, materials, and the subtle movement of people.

My design style is quiet, restrained, and minimal, emphasizing proportion, materiality, light, and the atmosphere created by spatial balance.

Japanese culture strongly influences my work through its appreciation for simplicity, subtlety, craftsmanship, silence, and sensitivity toward nature.

I collaborate with companies through open dialogue, mutual trust, and a shared understanding of the essential values behind each project.

Companies should choose designers based not only on appearance, but also on philosophy, consistency, communication, and long-term architectural thinking.

My process begins with carefully understanding the site, context, and client needs before gradually developing the spatial concept and details.

I appreciate architectural books, handcrafted furniture, lighting, ceramics, and simple everyday objects that reveal beauty through long-term use.

My daily life moves between design work, site visits, drawing, research, and quiet observation, which continuously influences my architectural thinking.

I encourage young designers to trust their own sensibility, observe carefully, and pursue depth rather than simply following trends or styles.

One advantage of being a designer is shaping meaningful environments. One challenge is constantly thinking about architecture beyond working hours.

My golden rule is to remove unnecessary elements and focus clearly on what is truly essential within the architecture and the space.

Observation, patience, communication, and the ability to think deeply about details are among the most important skills for a designer.

I use hand sketches, CAD software, physical models, photography, books, and site observation throughout different stages of the design process.

I manage time by organizing priorities carefully, maintaining focus, and allowing enough time for reflection and detailed architectural thinking.

Depending on the scale of the project, the process from concept to completion can take anywhere from several months to several years.

I am often asked why my architecture feels so quiet and restrained, and how I create such calm spatial atmospheres.

The most important experiences in my career have been projects where I could sincerely engage with both the client and the place.

My clients are often people who value the quality of space and wish to use architecture carefully over a long period of time.

I enjoy small but highly detailed architectural projects because they allow me to focus closely on the essence of space.

Going forward, I hope to continue creating timeless and quiet architecture, especially in residential and hospitality projects.

I usually develop the core architectural concept myself while collaborating closely with specialists, engineers, and craftspeople when necessary.

I am currently exploring projects that respond carefully to local context, natural light, materials, and the relationship between architecture and daily life.

I can be contacted through my official website, social media platforms, or email for architectural inquiries and collaborations.

Beyond physical form, I believe architecture should quietly support memory, time, atmosphere, and the emotional experience of everyday life.

I mainly work in interior design, focusing on residential, hospitality, and commercial spaces. I value calm atmospheres and material expression while creating spaces that respond naturally to people and place. Although many of my projects are small in scale, I always approach each detail with great care and attention.

From an early age, I was interested in space and light, and I decided to become an architect to create experiences that remain in people’s memories. After working at architectural offices, I established my own practice to pursue quiet and meaningful architecture rooted in everyday life.

The three most important aspects of my work are spatial calmness, natural light, and materiality. I begin each project by carefully reading the site and surroundings, then develop the spatial structure through sketches and physical models.

During the design process, I experience deep concentration and quiet excitement. I am most inspired when an idea gradually takes shape as space, and relationships between light, materials, and atmosphere become visible.

What shaped me most was the habit of carefully observing everyday life. Rather than pursuing dramatic expression, I value spaces where people can naturally feel calm and comfortable. Conversations with craftspeople and construction teams have also deeply influenced me.

In the future, I hope to continue creating timeless and quiet architecture, especially in residential and hospitality projects. I want to deepen my exploration of regional context and the relationship between architecture and nature.

I encourage young designers not to follow trends too closely, but instead to trust their own sensibility and powers of observation. Continuing to think deeply over time eventually leads to originality.

I believe it is important not to rush success, but to carefully cultivate one’s own values and perspective. Good architecture is created through accumulated thoughtfulness and sincerity rather than superficial expression.

Most of my day is spent designing, drawing, and visiting construction sites. Even during travel or ordinary moments, I often continue thinking about architecture and quietly reflecting on space.

I do not focus heavily on trends, but I remain interested in changes in society and daily life. More important than following trends is creating spaces that genuinely belong to their place and context.

I believe excellent design does not demand attention excessively, but instead feels naturally connected to people and place. It should deepen in value over time and remain meaningful for many years.

I consider a design complete when the space feels natural and balanced, and when a sense of calmness emerges without unnecessary elements. Refining simplicity is an important part of my process.

It is difficult to choose only one project as my greatest work because each project has its own unique value. I feel strongest attachment to projects where I could deeply engage with site, light, and everyday life

Rather than one specific person, I have been influenced by architects and artists who possess a quiet strength. I have also learned greatly from Japanese architecture, contemporary architecture, and traditional craftsmanship.

Everyday life and culture in Japan strongly influence my architecture. I believe my appreciation for simplicity and spatial emptiness has naturally developed through daily life and surrounding landscapes.

Although my studio is small, I value approaching every project with sincerity and care. Rather than pursuing scale, I focus on quality and meaningful dialogue throughout the design process.

While my activities are modest, I hope architecture can positively influence local communities and everyday life. I also value sharing architectural culture through dialogue with younger generations and craftspeople.

Participating in the A’ Design Award gave me an opportunity to reconsider my work from an international perspective. Receiving recognition across different cultures and values has been both encouraging and educational for me.

I was born and raised in Hita, Oita Prefecture, a regional city in Japan where nature and traditional craftsmanship have long been part of everyday life. Hita has a strong forestry tradition and is well known for furniture and wood products made from local Hita cedar. At a local technical high school, I studied mechanical engineering. I spent much of my time disassembling and reassembling industrial products, including automobile engines, to understand how they were constructed and how each component worked as part of a complete system. This experience taught me to look beyond the surface of an object and understand the structure and logic behind it. At the same time, growing up surrounded by wood and locally made furniture gave me an appreciation for the warmth and character of natural materials, which felt very different from industrial products. I later studied interior and spatial design at a specialized design school, where I learned the foundations of space planning and design. After graduation, I worked as an interior designer for a long-established department store in Fukuoka, designing retail spaces and gaining practical experience. Later, after getting married, I became involved in establishing an interior design company and continued developing my career through a wide range of projects. Looking back, I believe my approach to design grew from these two foundations: understanding how things work and appreciating the warmth and character of materials.

My greatest motivation for designing is to solve the challenges my clients face and ultimately make them happy. Whether I am designing a residence, a retail space, or another type of facility, the design process can sometimes be difficult. There are moments when a problem seems to have no immediate solution. However, after the project is completed and the client has lived or worked in the space for several days, hearing them say, “I am glad I asked you to design this,” or simply, “Thank you,” makes all those difficulties disappear. That is one of the most rewarding moments for me as a designer. When I see a client struggling with a problem, I often think that perhaps design can help solve it. I believe design is not simply about making something beautiful. It is also a means of identifying problems and creating a better situation for the people who will use the space.

I chose to become a designer. One reason is that I believe everyday life itself is composed of design. We wake up, wash our faces, brush our teeth, choose what to wear, eat, and go to work. Even without consciously thinking about it, we make countless choices every day to organize our lives and make them function better. In a broader sense, I believe this is also a form of design. From that perspective, perhaps everyone is a designer of their own life. My professional work is an extension of this idea. I observe how people live, identify problems and possibilities, and organize spaces and systems that can make everyday life a little better. That is one of the fundamental reasons I chose to become a designer.

I have always tried, and will continue to try, not to overdesign. I prefer to identify what is truly necessary and organize those elements as simply and clearly as possible. Designers can sometimes feel the need to demonstrate their presence by adding something. I do not believe that addition is always the answer. Before adding an element, I ask whether it is really necessary. By removing what is unnecessary and carefully organizing the materials, structure, light, function, and other qualities already present in a place, a space can sometimes find its own natural expression. At times, I believe that not designing can be the best design. In the future, I would like to continue pursuing simple and essential design—not spaces that strongly announce the presence of the designer, but spaces in which people can naturally experience comfort and meaning.

First, I do not consider myself a legend or a star. The reason is simple: none of the designs I have created are the achievement of one person alone. A design becomes reality through the knowledge, skills, and cooperation of many people, including clients, builders, craftspeople, engineers, manufacturers, and colleagues. I believe a designer should never forget to be grateful for these contributions. My advice to young designers is not to confine themselves to their own field. Observe as many things and experiences as possible, and listen carefully to people. There is something to learn not only from architecture and interiors, but also from nature, industrial products, technology, culture, human behavior, and everyday life. Be grateful to the people around you, understand the circumstances and challenges of each project, and then construct what you believe is the most appropriate solution. I do not think becoming a “legend” should be the goal. Stay curious, learn from others, think independently, and design freely. Over time, these experiences will naturally develop into a design approach that is uniquely your own.

If I had to express the difference in one word, I would say philosophy. A good designer has the skills and knowledge to confront difficult challenges and find effective solutions through design. A great designer, however, may go beyond solving the immediate problem and ask why that problem exists in the first place. Sometimes this means questioning the social systems or values that created the problem and proposing a different way of thinking. Beyond technical skill or expression, I believe the depth of thought about society, people, and everyday life is what can distinguish a good designer from a great one.

For me, good design creates conditions in which people can live naturally and comfortably. Beautiful forms and new expressions are important, but a home should first support comfortable living, while a commercial space should work well for both the people who use it and those who work there. People should not necessarily have to notice the design. If they can experience everyday life with less stress, greater comfort, and a sense of well-being, I consider that an important measure of good design.

I believe the value of good design is not limited to how something looks when it is completed. Its real value is in how it supports people's lives and activities over time. A well-designed space can reduce unnecessary effort, while appropriate light, materials, and environmental conditions can reduce physical and mental stress. Creating something that can be used for a long time also has both economic and environmental value. Therefore, investing in good design is not simply spending money to improve appearance. It is an investment in people's time, well-being, work, and future.

First of all, I would design something for my family. In my professional work, I am always thinking about my clients. But if I had unlimited time and freedom to design for anyone, I would like to create something for the people closest to me. Because I know their everyday habits and preferences, even the smallest ones, I could think deeply about what they truly need. I believe that would also give me an opportunity to reconsider the very origins of design.

I am not particularly interested in the idea of a single “dream project.” Rather than dreaming about creating a special building someday in the future, I find it more important to make the project in front of me the best it can be. Regardless of scale, budget, or function, every project has a different client, site, conditions, and challenges. When I approach each one seriously, there is always something new to discover. For that reason, rather than waiting for a dream project in the future, the project I am working on now is always my dream project.

I honestly do not know the secret to success, and I do not think it is for me to decide whether I am a successful designer. What I have continued to do is quite simple: face each project directly, without avoiding its difficulties, and approach both the project and the client with sincerity. I do not believe there is a special formula or shortcut. If my work is recognized by others, I believe it is the result of many small efforts accumulated over time.

I have been strongly influenced by the design philosophy of the Bauhaus in Germany. I appreciate its approach of considering function, materials, structure, and methods of production together, rather than treating decoration as the primary purpose of design. I do not believe beauty without function is enough to make a design truly good. Beauty and function should not oppose each other. Ideally, a natural form of beauty emerges from the sincere pursuit of what is necessary.

I am drawn to the architecture of Le Corbusier. Rather than one particular work, I am interested in his broader approach to architecture: organizing space through considerations of human life, function, structure, and light rather than treating architecture simply as decoration. Of course, society changes, and what we require from architecture changes with it. However, I believe the attitude of removing what is unnecessary and asking what is truly essential still has much to teach us today.

It is difficult for me to choose a single work as the greatest design. Rather, what I consider truly great is a design that continues to be used over a long period of time, naturally becomes part of everyday life, and remains valued and needed by people. A design does not have to attract attention or make a strong statement to be great. If it continues to serve people quietly and meaningfully over time, I believe that is one of the highest forms of design.

I believe it is important not to become attached to a single way of thinking or decide on the answer before fully understanding the problem. As we gain experience, it becomes easy to think, “This is how it should be,” or “This method worked before.” But every place, person, and period is different. I try to leave room for the possibility that my own thinking may be wrong. I listen to other people, admit what I do not know, and continue looking at new things. For a designer, I believe reducing preconceptions can be just as important as gaining experience.

Perhaps I would have been a lumberjack. (Laughs.) I grew up in Hita, Oita Prefecture, where forestry has long been an important industry, and trees and nature were always close to me. If I had not become a designer, perhaps I would have chosen work connected to forests and wood. When I think about it, understanding the characteristics of trees, intervening only where necessary, and caring for a forest so that it can continue into the next generation may actually have something in common with design.

For me, design is the organization of life. Design is not simply about creating form. It is about considering how people move, how they spend their time, what they feel, and then organizing and connecting the elements necessary to support those experiences. Design exists not only in architecture and interiors, but also in how we use our time and how people relate to one another. That is why I believe design is not something separate from everyday life; it is deeply embedded within it.

I have been supported by many people with whom I have worked throughout my career. Creators, architects, engineers, builders, craftspeople, manufacturers, and many other specialists have taught me a great deal. Through working with them, I have also learned that design can never be completed by one person alone. The person who has supported me most closely and for the longest time is probably my wife. She is also a designer, so she understands the nature of my work and is sometimes the person who gives me the most direct and honest opinions. I have been able to continue my work because of the support of many people around me, not through my efforts alone.