Fantasista Utamaro is a creator whose name has a strong impact and whose edgy design work has garnered worldwide attention.

Combining Japanese animation, subculture, and art in a diverse range of ways, he has worked on everything from advertising design to music video direction for artists like Hatsune Miku and Yuzu. In 2013, he launched the culture magazine "WHAT'S A FANTASISTA UTAMARO!? by "QUOTATION," with the second volume due out this October. He has also branched out into textile design, and will be releasing clothing made from those fabrics.

To commemorate this, the "WHAT'S A FANTASISTA UTAMARO!? Fantasista Utamaro POP UP SHOP" is open for a limited time until October 29th at the Center Park/TOKYO Kaihoku on the second floor of Isetan Shinjuku. From 2D artwork to 3D fashion. We asked him about this transition.

--After working in video and design, how did you expand your scope of activities to textiles and then fashion? I understand you originally majored in textiles at art school.

I majored in textiles at art school, and made tapestries and other things for assignments. At the same time, I also set up a camera on a loom and animated the weaving process with stop-motion footage. I never narrowed my creative style down to one thing. The transition from textiles to fashion was largely a coincidence, but textile pattern design can be used for clothing, interior design, and maybe even to design an entire hotel someday. I think it's fascinating how textiles can be applied to everything from clothing and food to shelter.

I felt something strongly the first time I woven something in a university class. First of all, even handling a loom was practically my first time, so it was incredibly exciting. I weave fabric by threading the warp threads over time and then inserting the weft threads using a shuttle. During this process, I get really excited, wondering what the final product will be, and how cloth is made.

Then, when I finally take the finished woven fabric off the loom and look at it, it's just a familiar, ordinary piece of fabric. All the sparkling things I'd had in my head suddenly vanished, and I'm faced with just an ordinary piece of fabric. I feel like I've missed a bluebird, like the magic has been broken. The boundary between image and reality is clearly separated between the process and the finished product. At that moment, I felt like I'd realized something about the circuits of human desire, and it was quite moving. I realize we can never reach the limits of our imagination, which is why we keep creating over and over again.

Everything is trimmed and framed. Even the size of our stomachs and our lives are trimmed. But continuing to imagine something—that imagination—continues and expands infinitely and forever. But the moment it appears in a real place, it has to be trimmed. That's what I think about textiles. Even when trimmed, it's easy to imagine it continuing. It doesn't lose its magic. It's a feeling that you don't want to lose the excitement until the very last moment. To me, infinitely expanding patterns are the very essence of imagination.

--At the textile trade fair "Première Vision" held in Paris last September, you participated at the Komatsu Seiren booth and won the grand prize in the textile competition "PV Award." The colorful camouflage colors feature the onomatopoeia "do-dodo-do" in katakana, creating a unique worldview that makes you want to name it the "Utamaro Mandala." Where did the design concept come from?

"Dodo-dodo" is a typical onomatopoeia found in manga. One reason I love anime is that it's like a treasure of Japan. While we can't look directly at grotesque things in real life, anime and other two-dimensional objects are like cushions that we can easily look at. I find that fascinating. I felt the same thing when I worked on Hatsune Miku's music video: even though she doesn't exist in the real world, she exists precisely because people believe she exists and hope for her to exist. I'm drawn to these miraculous, ephemeral things in the two-dimensional world.

One of my signature pieces is "Manga Camo," which I created using Shibuya's Scramble Crossing as camouflage. A million people cross Shibuya's Scramble Crossing every day. There are many "settings" that make it seem like Shibuya is okay, and there's an atmosphere that anything goes. High school girls can sit on the ground and put on makeup, and there's enough people there that flirting with guys doesn't hesitate.

My "Manga Camo" pattern would stand out too much if it were in an empty space, but I think it would blend in perfectly at Shibuya's scramble crossing. This work embodies the mysterious way something can be perceived as universal in a specific location, but not in other places. It's a thin collage with no core, where only the surface is repainted. But that's what makes it interesting.

For example, at the cosplay venue at Comiket, even someone who is normally shy can confidently expose their skin and show off their cosplay. They can do it in that space because they feel a sense of courage, almost like relief. Or at a sports gym, they can confidently do aerobics in front of everyone.

The world is filled with such "settings" that we can unconsciously incorporate our feelings into. I felt like Shibuya's scramble crossing was permeated with a kind of philosophy that allows people to feel free, thinking, "I can do this here." "Manga Kamo" is a pop expression of that worldview.

--I see. So you're truly a "flagship of freedom."

That's what I want to be. Japanese people are generally somewhat shy and not very good at appealing to others. That's why we create "settings" in our quest for freedom. If we spread the word that "this is OK here," people will quickly flock to it. Everyone can then be free and express themselves.

This might be a bit of a confusing analogy, but in my beloved "Mobile Suit Gundam," Minovsky particles, powerfully charged particles, make long-distance radio and radar use impossible, requiring only hand-to-hand combat. However, that was a setting created by the creators to allow robots to engage in hand-to-hand combat. But in a sense, having a setting gives that world a sense of reality. By providing a "setting" that allows people to take responsibility for their actions, they can immerse themselves in those actions with peace of mind. There are many such "settings" in this world as well. Perhaps it's my desire to encounter interesting settings hidden in such worlds that drives me to create things.

--And are you saying that by coming into contact with Utamaro's artwork, we become new types?

I don't intend to be that pushy (laughs).

--This time, your collaboration with the designer has resulted in a variety of items, including coats and down jackets. Did you give them any instructions?

No, I asked them to design them freely. The coat is completely invisible from the outside, but when the wind blows or you take it off, the flashy textile lining is revealed, which is really great.

--The second installment of "WHAT'S A FANTASISTA UTAMARO!? by "QUOTATION"" has been announced. What direction are you heading in from now on? Are you considering creating a brand centered on textiles like Emilio Pucci?

I'd like to continue with the concept I mentioned earlier, where original pattern pieces exist as artworks, which then connect to form an infinitely expanding pattern. However, since I created the textiles first, the order is reversed, so I'm currently working hard to create works that will achieve this. Is it possible to expand this concept into a broader art context, rather than simply equating textiles with design? Beyond that, there's fashion, interior design, and something else interesting. I hope the possibilities expand endlessly.

The advertising and design industries in Japan are of very high quality, but they have a very conservative image. If you only create for an internal audience, you won't be known anywhere else. Even if you win an award at an advertising festival, only those involved will see it. To me, it often just feels self-indulgent. I don't think that's a bad thing at all, but I think it's simply more interesting to create something that's open-minded and has a 360-degree outward reach, where you can surprise people and share your emotions. It would be great if I could be one of the people who brings about a change to "Represent Japan," so to speak, by expanding our culture based on original Japanese culture such as manga and anime.