by Kaori Ogawa
Hello, my name is Kaori Ogawa. I graduated from the University of Tokyo, Department of Economics, as valedictorian and received my Bachelor’s degree in 2022.
Last year, I started to pursue my Master of Fine Arts, Design and Technology at Parsons School of Design in New York, thanks to the generous and warm support of Friends of UTokyo and Hsun Kwei & Aiko Takizawa Chou Scholarship.
In my essay for the FUTI Scholarship in 2025, I wrote, “I aspire to convey art’s unique value—its power to spark new perspectives and unite communities—through both quantitative and qualitative approaches,” and I am currently working toward this goal. My artwork has been selected for exhibition at Ars Electronica, a major festival at the intersection of art, technology, and science held in Linz, Austria. The exhibition is in September. Therefore, I would like to explore how to communicate the perspectives I intend to convey through my work to the audience. In this report, I would like to share what I have learned during my first year at Parsons.
Please note that, from here on, I will use the term “design” rather than “art,” since in my field the boundary between the two has become blurred.
After one year of study at Parsons, I became confident that studying design can be a powerful enabler for people with entrepreneurial mindsets. Design skills provide a useful toolkit to spark innovative ideas, quickly iterate and test whether those ideas are meaningful for specific end users (or even for society), shape the ideas into concrete forms, and communicate compelling stories to the intended audience.
Of course, design itself has various meanings. Among the broad world of design, I would like to talk about (1) design to create and communicate new ideas, (2) interaction design, and (3) speculative design in this report. All of these differ from commercially driven design, which is what I used to associate with the term “design” before studying at Parsons.
Please note that this report focuses on sharing what I have learned, meaning these are my subjective views and do not necessarily include citations to support my ideas. That being said, I’m passionate about gathering intellectual resources to explore the meaning of learning design further, and this is on my list of future goals.
Design to communicate new ideas
I believe design is a powerful tool for uncovering innovative cultural and scientific ideas and for presenting them in an engaging way, thereby accelerating discussions and sparking innovation on these topics. With that in mind, I began searching for promising yet underappreciated ideas that could play a key role in shaping a sustainable future. In this process, I learned:
- various methods for discovering novel ideas,
- the mindset needed to carefully evaluate whether a theme would have a meaningful impact on society,
- how to develop an idea further, and
- how to present it in a visual, engaging manner so that even those indifferent to the topic become interested.
In my opinion, design that communicates new ideas is especially powerful for presenting a clear perspective on complex topics—where people’s levels of understanding and awareness differ—to spark meaningful discussion. Furthermore, I strongly believe that we need to rethink our lifestyles to reduce environmental impact, so I began an in-depth exploration of the subject. For example, biodegradable plastics decompose into CO₂ and water in a natural environment once discarded. This material is expected to address the ocean’s microplastic problem by fully breaking down before marine life can mistakenly ingest microplastics. To understand its production process and explore its potential as an alternative to conventional materials, I produced samples of biodegradable plastic at home, experimenting with varying ingredient ratios. However, I eventually realized that designers and researchers have been exploring this subject for as long as ten to twenty years, so I would not be uniquely positioned to offer a significant new contribution. Although I could have devoted many years to this material, two years would not have sufficed. I felt that my role was to demonstrate the tangible impact of design by completing real-world projects and soliciting user feedback. Therefore, I turned my attention to other environmental topics.
I explored five different ideas, developing prototypes and conducting user tests for each one when other students were working on one or two ideas. None proved successful for various reasons, including high costs, technical challenges, and lack of novelty. I struggled to find a theme where I could offer unique value. That was when I realized that my background as a Japanese person could be a significant asset. After that, I decided to explore in depth the human–microorganism relationships exemplified by Japanese fermented food makers. For this project, I received the Student Research Fund from my school, and my work was selected for exhibition at Ars Electronica in Austria—one of the largest festivals at the intersection of design, technology, and science.
Since I haven’t yet made my work public, please allow me to describe the project in the vague terms above. I will provide a full explanation—along with its connection to my original interest in a sustainable future—after the exhibition.
I believed that this process—of taking an idea from conception to a concrete form—might resemble those in academia and in startups, even though I don’t have much experience in either.
Interaction design
One of the most valuable skills I acquired during my first year at Parsons was interaction design. Interaction design underpinned all of the classes I took that year. Essentially, it involves:
- thinking deeply about different users’ needs—how they will perceive and interact with various products, services, or environments, and
- designing those products or services so that users behave as intended and have their needs met.
For example, in one project, students were tasked with designing an interactive experience in a public space. The rule was to get strangers to do what our team intended without using any spoken or written language. We placed a set of objects in the space to encourage passersby to interact with them in the specific way we had envisioned. We observed people from a distance and were not allowed to interact with the participants ourselves.
My team wanted passersby to paint on a canvas we placed in a park. When we initially placed the canvas and painting kit, no one interacted with the setup—people were either indifferent or curious but reluctant to touch what they saw as someone else’s property. To fix this, we drew footprints and arrows leading to the canvas to indicate it was for public use, which proved successful. We could not have predicted this barrier simply by discussing it at a table. Even though we asked over 20 friends what they thought might be obstacles before conducting the field experiment, none of them predicted the issue we actually observed. It was only when we tested it in the field and watched people’s behavior that we discovered the real reason.
This experience taught me that I cannot fully predict how others will perceive a product. Moreover, users cannot accurately anticipate their own natural reactions until they actually engage with a design without knowing the designers’ intentions.
Furthermore, I learned that it is crucial—especially at the start of the development process—to devise ways to test the core interaction with minimal cost and time. We are easily tempted to create a polished, market-ready product before testing with customers, but this approach is often too costly and time-consuming. Often, an expensive prototype only reveals that the underlying concept does not meet user needs. Therefore, companies and organizations must create rough, quick prototypes to test their concepts and avoid unnecessary investment. I was already aware that it is common to develop a beta version when creating a digital product, such as a smartphone app. However, it was eye-opening to learn that much simpler physical prototypes—using cardboard or sketches—can suffice to test an app concept before engineers begin coding.
I have often heard stories of companies investing heavily in new products and failing because users reacted differently than expected. I am not entirely sure what the core issues are—perhaps they conducted user testing but overlooked the core interaction, or there may be other factors at play. In the future, I would like to help reduce unnecessary investment by investigating these root causes through interviews and observations.
Speculative design
In the latter half of last semester, I was fortunate to have taken a class taught by Anthony Dunne and Fiona Raby. They are renowned in the field of design for pioneering an approach called speculative design. They describe traditional design as an approach for solving problems and communicating information clearly. They then introduced a new design approach for speculating on plausible futures by asking, “What if XYZ happens? What would the future look like?”
For example, a Japanese artist asked, “What if a same-sex couple could have children? What would their future look like?” and created composite images depicting two children with their same-sex parents—a family portrait. The image sparked a heated debate at a time when same-sex couples were far less common than they are today. I think this is a great example of how design can challenge taken-for-granted assumptions and spark important discussions. In this case, the design approach was powerful in giving form to what appears impossible. When an idea is vague, most people cannot even conceive of it, but when it is presented visually, they can imagine what it might be like and discuss concrete aspects.
In their class, we were assigned to consider how non-humans (animals, plants, microorganisms, machines, etc.) perceive the world and to propose a festival celebrating their existence. “How do non-humans experience the world?” is inherently paradoxical, since we cannot truly become them. It may even seem pointless, since we cannot arrive at any absolute truth. The professors acknowledge these limitations but believe it is still meaningful to try. Frankly, I still cannot fully grasp its significance directly to the topic, but I would say it was one of the most challenging and meaningful exercises of my life. Consider past innovations: Tetsu wan Atom and Doraemon were created long before recent developments in robotics. The creators might have asked, “What if robots and humans could collaborate? What if robots had feelings?” at a time when most people could not imagine how that would be possible.
By forcing myself to imagine the impossible, I believe my creativity has improved. After completing their class, I gained confidence in continuing to generate interesting, plausible yet novel ideas whenever I encounter new topics. The fact that my work was selected for a renowned international exhibition demonstrates the growth of my creative abilities. When I asked the professors how I could develop my ideation skills, they advised me to gradually expand “the power of imagination”, day by day. I’ve thought about this ever since. I believe “power of imagination” is a potent concept, even though I could not have appreciated it when I was working for a large company. I simply didn’t have the space to imagine anything beyond the tasks at hand. I understand that many people might laugh at the phrase or not take it seriously because it is vague, and it seems that only a few individuals can develop an idea as innovative as the iPhone. Therefore, it may appear meaningless to most. After graduation, we often have little space to ponder such lofty ideas, and it often seems more important to contribute concretely to society through our work. I understand and agree, and I believe designers with speculative mindsets—and anyone who shares their enthusiasm—have a responsibility to take this seriously, pushing the boundaries of what seems impossible by cultivating our imaginative capabilities. I’m not in a position to impose this responsibility on others, but I intend to maintain this mindset so that I can contribute to society with my design and business skills.
Although I have discussed design skills for innovation extensively, I would like to reiterate the importance of interaction design skills for products, services, and spaces alike.
This incredible year was made possible by the generous support of Friends of UTokyo, the Hsun Kwei & Aiko Takizawa Chou Scholarship, and by everyone who has supported me both physically and mentally. I would like to express my heartfelt gratitude to them and will continue striving to do my best.
