Yumeo Nakayama / LICC 2024 Winner

 

In conversation with Yumeo Nakayama, LICC Winner in the Non-Professional CREATE (Art) category, she spoke about her intention to convey the richness and beauty of unpredictability—an idea central to her artistic vision. Inspired by the quiet elegance of a school of fish, her aim was to craft a space that feels peaceful and meditative, offering viewers a sense of calm. The work invites prolonged observation, encouraging a gentle, enduring connection with the piece.

 

 

 

Your artwork “They” features handmade balloons that flutter freely in the wind across a pond. What inspired you to use this medium and setting to express your artistic vision?

When I started this work, I didn’t think first about how to build it structurally. Instead, I imagined a dream-like scene. In my mind, the sky looked like the ocean, and a large group of fish was moving freely in all directions, with volume and rhythm. This was a vision I had always wanted to see with my own eyes—and creating this dream was my starting point.

I also wanted the work to have a powerful sense of scale. I had an idea of showing large objects floating in space as if they had no weight. To make this happen, I chose balloons as the material. Balloons were something I played with often as a child, so using them felt natural and meaningful.

Another important idea was to let the fish-like parts move freely across the surface, horizontally. Since I was a teenager, I’ve been fascinated by the look of thin water surfaces, and I always hoped to recreate that feeling myself. In this piece, the balloons gave a floating, light feeling, and the water gave the parts freedom to move. The installation only becomes complete when placed outside, in the natural environment.

Also, I always try to use as few types of materials as possible when I create. For example, we find beauty in the ocean, which is made mostly of seawater. In the same way, I believe we can create beauty with just a few materials if they are combined with natural forces. This work was also made with that belief in mind—from the selection of materials to the way it reacts to nature.

The movement of the balloons is guided only by the natural wind and water. How does this element of unpredictability contribute to the overall message of your piece?

I really wanted to include the idea of “the richness and beauty of unpredictability” in this work. This is not only important for this piece, but also for my future creations. It is one of the core themes of my practice.

Today’s society is full of convenience. But when we step into nature, nothing goes exactly as we wish—weather, wind, light, even our own bodies can feel unpredictable.

Still, people are drawn to the sea, the forest, and the mountains.
I think one reason is that there is something beautiful in what we cannot control.

The fact that things do not go as we want is simply a natural part of life.
It reminds us that the Earth does not exist for us, and more than that, it proves that we are truly living on this planet.

In this work, once the installation is placed outside, even I, as the artist, cannot control its movement.
The balloons follow the wind and water, moving freely and naturally.
They behave like a school of fish released into the sea—unpredictable, independent, and not guided by human ideals.

The form and movement of the balloons are reminiscent of a school of fish. How did your childhood memories of observing fish in the sea influence the design and concept of this artwork?

This artwork was inspired by the image of a school of fish. Even if viewers don’t immediately see that connection, I created the work in a way that their experience wouldn’t be affected. Still, this fish motif was a very important starting point for me.

Since childhood, I have loved watching fish in the sea. Japan is surrounded by the ocean, so I often went to the sea every year for Boy Scouts and family trips. Those experiences had a strong impact on my senses and how I see the world.  Even now, I go to the ocean every few years and enjoy snorkeling.

When I let my body float on the surface of the waves, and see the fish swimming nearby, I feel as if I’m sharing the same movement—and sometimes I feel like I’ve become one of them.

A school of fish is always changing its shape. It’s nearly impossible to follow just one fish with your eyes. Watching them is less about “looking closely” and more about “gazing softly” at the whole. The way they sparkle and move quickly in all directions under the water creates a constant, living rhythm. It never gets boring, and at the same time, it gives me a very calm and peaceful feeling.

You aim to create a peaceful space through your outdoor installations. How does “They” fulfill this intention, and what kind of atmosphere do you hope to evoke in viewers?

In this work, I wanted to create a space that feels peaceful and calming, using the quiet beauty I feel when I watch a school of fish. The idea was to make something that people can keep looking at without getting tired—and feel at ease at the same time.

The movement of the piece always changes. It reacts to the wind’s direction and strength, and the fish shapes look different depending on the location and light. The reflections in the water change as well. Every time you see it, the scene is slightly different. For me, this continuous change itself is part of what makes the space feel peaceful.

Because the piece moves naturally with the wind, the viewers can also feel the air on their own skin while watching. In this way, they are not just looking at the artwork—they are quietly existing with it. So, the experience is not about “staring” at something, but rather “gazing softly.” It’s like watching a school of fish under the sea—gentle, slow, and quiet.

One of the main inspirations for this sense of calmness was the ocean. Even though the waves, colors, scents, and winds change every day, we can feel peaceful just by watching the sea. With “They”, I wanted to create the same kind of quiet space—always changing, but always calming.

The organic motion of the balloons parallels the uncontrollable power of nature. How do you interpret this relationship between human-made objects and natural forces in your work?

The balloons in this work are man-made objects, created by my own hands and inspired by the form of fish. But once they are placed in a natural environment, they leave my control and begin to move freely as part of nature. This feeling of “letting go of control” is very important—for both me and the artwork itself.  At that moment, the balloons no longer feel like my personal creations or extensions of myself. They become something separate—something I can observe from a distance, almost like living beings from a different world. It creates a strange but beautiful sense of respect and curiosity.

When I watch their uncontrolled movement, I feel a strong awareness of being “here and now.” And I believe viewers may feel the same—as if they are encountering something like a wild animal, something they cannot fully control, but can quietly admire with a sense of distance and respect.

This is also connected to why I titled the work “They”. Instead of giving each part a specific name or identity, I wanted to keep a little distance—to allow space between the artwork and the viewer. Using They creates a subtle boundary, and within that space, a quiet relationship can grow.

Your work often explores the “feeling that we are living on the Earth.” How does “They” embody this theme, and what message do you wish to convey about our connection to the environment?

For me, the feeling that “we are living on the Earth” becomes real when I experience the richness of things that do not follow my plans. In They, the way the work is influenced by nature—always changing, and never moving exactly how I expect—gives me this sense. The balloons, like a school of fish, move freely, without following our control. This reminds us that humans are not above nature, but part of its cycle.

This way of thinking is close to traditional Japanese beliefs, such as nature worship and the spirituality of the Ainu people. These traditions see nature as something powerful and sacred, not something to dominate.

Also, nature is full of things that may seem small or unimportant, but are actually beautiful and mysterious. I believe we can feel the true richness of the Earth not by simply standing and being “bathed in” beauty, but by walking, looking closely, and quietly discovering it for ourselves.

I hope to continue creating quiet works that help people notice these small miracles hidden in nature.

As a Tokyo-based artist, how does your cultural background influence your approach to outdoor art installations and your choice of materials?

I was born and raised in Tokyo, but ever since I was a child, I’ve been deeply attracted to rich natural environments. There were times when I even wondered why I wasn’t raised in the countryside. But now I believe that this longing itself has become an important motivation in my artistic practice. Because I live in a city where nature is limited, I constantly find myself thinking about nature, admiring it, and wanting to get closer to it through my work.

Tokyo is also full of all kinds of materials and information. From this abundance, I carefully choose materials that feel fun to touch or remind me of joyful memories. I try to create quiet beauty by combining a small number of such materials with natural phenomena. This way of working is strongly connected to my cultural background and the environment I live in.

Winning the LICC award is a significant achievement. What does this recognition mean to you personally and professionally?

When I heard the news about the award, I naturally felt proud. But more than that, I was truly happy to feel that my work had reached someone.

In my art, I always try to create the scenery I want to see. So when I realized that someone else saw it, felt it, and connected with it, it felt like quietly standing next to each other, watching the ocean, and softly saying, “It’s beautiful.” That kind of shared moment is very rich and special to me.

For me, this award is not only a recognition, but a proof that the scenery I wanted to create was also something others wanted to see. It feels like quiet confirmation that a deep sense or feeling was shared between people.  And that is a big encouragement for me to continue making work from my heart.

Looking ahead, what future projects are you excited to explore, and how do you plan to continue evolving your artistic practice?

I would like to continue creating works that explore the relationship between humans and nature. This interest has been with me since long before I became an artist. From the age of two, I was already deeply drawn to natural environments and animals. That early fascination remains at the core of my artistic practice today.

In recent years, I have actively participated in artist-in-residence programs abroad. Whenever I stay in a new place, I carefully research the local environment and materials, and create artworks that are rooted in the unique conditions of that location. By spending time with the natural surroundings of each place, I feel my own way of seeing nature shift and expand.

Going forward, I hope to continue spending more time abroad—not only through residencies, but also in other ways of working and exhibiting overseas. I strongly wish to present my recent work, They, outside of Japan. The themes in this piece—our connection to nature, and the beauty of unpredictability—are ones that I believe can speak to people across cultures and languages.

Alongside this, I also dream of creating larger-scale installations in the future. I want to bring to life works that allow people to physically and emotionally experience the rhythms, beauty, and unpredictability of nature in a deep and immersive way.

If a work born from this kind of process quietly reaches someone’s heart, and they feel, “I feel like I’m truly living on the Earth,” or “Maybe this is a landscape I wanted to see too,” that would be the most beautiful moment for me.