Japanese architect Keiji Ashizawa’s creative philosophy is rooted in honest design

The easiest way to pitch Keiji Ashizawa into a frenzy is to display a piece of furniture in a space he designs that does not complement it. “Oh my god it always happens. I get very stressed about it,” exclaimed the Japanese architect. 

Another major bugbear? Signs for the toilet randomly inserted into beautifully designed museums, which, according to him, seem to happen largely in Asia. “Their staff don’t seem to understand that they ruin the spaces. When I can, I try to educate them about the importance of good graphic design,” he said. 

Ashizawa’s rants are not without basis. They reflect his approach of having harmony and coherence in whatever he does. Whether it is architecture, interior design or a piece of furniture, they have to complement than compete, playing the part of a quiet companion to allow the vibrancy of human life to comfortably unfold. This is an important tenet of a philosophy that he calls “honest design”.

His eponymous studio, established in 2005, is the platform through which it manifests. Among the projects he is best known for are Trunk (Hotel) Yoyogi Park, several Blue Bottle Coffee cafes, including in Nagoya and Tokyo, and a whole slew of private homes, one more holistic in appearance than the other.

In Singapore in September 2025 to speak at the FIND Global Summit, the 52-year-old made time for a chat that was peppered with humorous candour. This might be unexpected by Japanese standards, but is further evidence of what Ashizawa stands for.

KEEPING IT REAL

“Honest design”, according to him, is about stripping away all artifice and being completely authentic in the execution of every aspect of a project – from its functionality to the materials used, site context, user experience and impact on society. Ego is put aside, as is the need to adhere to current trends. The outcome should have endurability, respect the environment and have a positive impact on future generations. 

“For example, every time a client asks me to make a ‘wow’ space, I say no. I see it as a gimmick, something temporary. If I design something, I want it to last at least their or my lifetime,” he said. “Another thing I dislike is ‘sustainable materials’, like plastic composites. They don’t last and that is not honest. I think solid wood is much more sustainable.”

No wonder then that Ashizawa has sworn off working with “cheap furniture companies”. He is dead set against how they promote a culture of waste. “It costs so little and people don’t appreciate it. When they move to a new home, they throw it away,” he added.

It is not just inexpensive homeware that is an accomplice to this. Ashizawa pointed to how Japan has a culture of “scrap and build”, where buildings are demolished for the sake of erecting something more unique or trendy. Recent examples include the Nakagin Capsule Tower by Kisho Kurokawa and Kagawa Prefectural Gymnasium by Kenzo Tange.

While he was studying architecture at the Yokohama National University, his teachers encouraged their students to design “crazy” projects that were bold and unorthodox. In reality, they were often impractical and unbuildable, which made him question the necessity of such exercises.

“I realised it was important to go back to the basics, to understand how Japanese architecture can last longer and be more honest. Even then, my philosophy is not fixed in stone – I continually ask myself whether what we do is right,” he explained.

All this aversion to the outlandish – what he comically labels as “designing UFOs” – begs the question if Ashizawa is opposed to innovation and pushing boundaries in architecture. He was quick to reject that idea, “I don't believe in revolution; what we need is an evolution.”

RESPECT HIM AS YOU WOULD A CHEF

Ashizawa has a growing following for what he is doing. Since the COVID-19 pandemic, he revealed that some 30 per cent of his business comes from outside of Japan, including mainland China and Taiwan. He humbly attributes it to a good marketing team, but the clients certainly see more.

Comb through his portfolio and what is immediately noticeable is how his projects evoke a sense of peace, quiet and balance. Ashizawa was visibly pleased when this was pointed out to him. 

The trick, he said, is to limit the palette to between five and seven elements, “In my studio, we have a huge material collection – we are more like a workshop and it helps us to harmonise our designs, like listening to beautiful music. It is very important for us to do this.”

There are some clients who need more convincing than others about the need for a holistic approach and, if necessary, Ashizawa quipped: “Sometimes we need to fight politely.”

His favourite trick is to use the analogy of dining in a sushi restaurant. No one would think to stand beside the chef in the kitchen to tell him how to slice the fish or arrange it on the rice. Likewise, the same respect should be paid to him, especially given that he has worked for almost 30 years as a designer and knows what is best for a project.

“I am very happy to have an opinion of what the client wants, but my job is to pick the right pieces for them. If we don’t see eye to eye, I have no qualms about walking away,” he said. 

One commercial client that definitely understands Ashizawa is the Blue Bottle coffee chain. He has designed eight cafes for the Californian brand and of them, the one in Yokohama stands out for how he was able to connect it with the neighbourhood, despite a rather uninspiring surrounding.

True to his philosophy of “honest design”, he employed Japanese oak to create most of the furniture and fittings. Circular shapes dominate, from the counter to the light fixtures. Tables and chairs were crafted in collaboration with Japan’s largest wooden furniture manufacturer, Karimoku Furniture.

While the glass-walled unit looks out to a small park with some sculptures, it is nothing much to shout about – in fact, Ashizawa repeatedly labels it as “boring”. Undeterred, he designed a circular stacking bench that the Blue Bottle staff dutifully bring in and out daily, to give customers the opportunity to sit among the greenery. 

“I could have designed a cool shop but that is not honest. This is a cafe for the neighbourhood, so we designed something to fit into it comfortably and improve the placemaking experience.”

RISING FROM THE ASHES

Perhaps the purest form of “honest design” is embodied in Ishinomaki Laboratory, a public workshop and furniture brand that Ashizawa founded in the city with the same name. The idea came about after the earthquake and tsunami in Japan in 2011. 

“One of my clients, whom we designed a restaurant for, lost everything,” he recalled. “I felt compelled to help him.” Upon looking around, Ashizawa noticed that the local carpenters were too preoccupied with large-scale reconstruction to help individuals rebuild their homes and small businesses.

It therefore inspired him to start a space where people could go to create simple, locally made furniture they needed. Among the earliest projects was working together with an Ishinomaki high school to build over 40 benches for an outdoor cinema.

Today, the brand is staffed by skilled professionals and equipped with machinery to make a wide range of products from benches and chairs to toys, shelves and tables. “We started as a volunteer-led project to support a disaster area. When we saw how people were excited about visiting the workshop to make their own products, we decided to keep it running to support the local craft economy,” said Ashizawa.

Since then, he has also developed the Made in Local initiative, where collaborations are made with workshops around the world – such as in Singapore, the UK, Mexico and China – to produce its designs in the local craft traditions and with locally sourced materials. 

For instance, the award-winning Tripodal Stool, designed by Hong Kong-based Studio Adjective, is being built in Munich, Germany by Schatzl studio. It comes in red beech wood, harvested from the Bavarian Forest.

Ishinomaki Laboratory is a perfect complement to Ashizawa’s studio business, since he can fill the spaces he designs with furniture from there. With a steadily growing inventory done in a complementary style, there is no need for him to hunt for pieces or design new ones.

He mused: “In a way, it’s a full circle for us. By doing this, we support local craftspeople and nurture artisanal traditions. I don’t think we can be more honest than this.”