Protecting Our Ability to Dream with Yoshihiro Yagi

Yoshihiro Yagi is a driving force of creativity and one of the top award-winning creatives in Japan, with over 500 medals under his belt. His work is always in the nature of facing human impulses and nurturing long and deep relationships with his clients.

One of the most frequently discussed topics at client and team meetings is how to turn business into art. ‘Pocky THE GIFT’, which won Grand Prix at various awards, was a business that shared the human urge to connect with others. JR East's ‘Get Back, Tohoku’ won the Collaborative Pencil at D&AD for the first time in Asia, after more than 10 years of continuous efforts.

Now more than ever, he feels the need to follow our own human sense of ethics in finding and solving problems in society. His greatest motivation is to create things that will make the lives of each person in this world brighter and enriched through the power of creativity. Most recently, he proved this with the JR Group’s ‘My Japan Railway’ campaign which won the coveted Black Pencil at D&AD.

Yoshi and his wife have two young sons, Minato and Keito. They named the boys in relation to the circulation of water and nature: how mountain streams flow into the ocean, where it becomes rain and eventually goes back to the mountains. He also lectures at Kyoto University of the Arts.

Yoshihiro sat down with LBB to discuss importance of keeping the human aspects of design alive, why creativity is not just about innate talent, and prioritising ‘emotion over function’.

Person

I was born in Kyoto, Japan in 1977, and my work spans a wide range of fields, from logos and posters to packaging and experience design. Whatever I create, I want it to function as a form of non-verbal communication to the world.

At a time when AI is rapidly evolving and our sense of humanity is easily overlooked, I believe we need design that stays close to people’s emotions and bodily sensations. I want to see the world not as a system optimised for efficiency, but as a place that carefully holds the subtle shifts in how people feel.

For me, creativity isn’t just about innate talent. It’s something you train until your head (thinking) and your hands (craft) can move as one. I see design as the act of patiently giving tangible form to the ‘invisible intentions’ of a brand that we can sense but not yet see.

This way of thinking also shapes how I work. When I take on a project, I try to value my own subjective point of view while staying open to dialogue. I’m not drawn to safe, middle-of-the-road solutions – I prefer work that feels bold, decisive and fully committed.

Product

When I evaluate creative work, I prioritise ‘emotion over function’, ‘dreams over efficiency’, and the question of how deeply it moves the viewer. This was the message I also shared with the jury when I served as jury president for the Industry Craft Lions at Cannes Lions in 2023.

What matters to me is not craft that is simply skillful or beautiful, but how clearly the brand’s vision resonates at each touchpoint, and how much it shifts the emotional distance between people and the brand.

One project I worked on is called ‘My Japan Railway’. In a country like Japan, where railways stretch across the nation, we set out to expand the role of rail from ‘transportation infrastructure’ to ‘emotional infrastructure’. By using stamp rallies and traditional Japanese design motifs, we created a system that allows people to hold their travel memories as deeply personal stories.

Precisely because we live in an age of AI and optimisation, I’m drawn to honest brand expressions and to work grounded in empathy and an altruistic point of view.

Process

When I start a project, I first spend time defining the brand’s problem and trying to understand people’s habits and emotions. I’m always collecting inspiration, but I make a point of returning to the question: ‘What is the true essence of this brand?’

For example, the ‘My Japan Railway’ project began with a brief to design a ‘150th anniversary logo’ for the railways. I didn’t want it to stay just a logo assignment, so we started instead by digging into why people feel such affection for trains in the first place. As a result, what was originally planned as a one-year project extended to over four years, during which we developed more than 1,000 stamps. Thankfully, the project has been widely recognised and has received numerous prestigious awards.

When I feel stuck, I try to step away from function and logic for a moment and return to the emotional question: ‘How do we want people to feel here?’ I judge a project to be complete when concept and craft are fully aligned, and when the work creates a new sensation or a new question between the brand and its audience.

I also place a lot of value on actually working with my hands. Under the name ‘Dentsu Hands and Heads’ – a driven by design team – we partner with clients to drive projects forward. True to the name, we also focus on nurturing talent whose ‘hands’ (craft) and ‘heads’ (thinking) can operate as one.

Press

I’m originally from Kyoto. Until around 160 years ago, it was Japan’s capital, and it’s still a city where deep-rooted traditions and contemporary life coexist. Growing up there, I developed a strong interest in the design of public spaces – things like signage and the unique streetscapes you only find in Kyoto.

My father was a photographer, and my grandfather was a kimono (Japanese traditional robe) painter, so I grew up watching their craftwork from a very young age. That experience has had a huge influence on who I am today.

In terms of how I’ve honed my craft, a big factor has been continually exposing my own sensibilities to ‘external standards’ through judging awards at home and abroad, and through international projects. Facing work from all over the world at Cannes Lions, D&AD and other shows keeps pushing me to update my own view of design.

Because of that, when I’m working on a project, I try to maximise creativity by building teams that become one across boundaries, and by creating spaces where different specialisms can mix. On the other hand, environments where efficiency is valued too far above humanity, or where everything is driven by short-term numbers, tend to erode our ability to dream.

On the agency side, I believe it’s essential to foster a culture where people can collaborate across disciplines and borders, and to build environments where ‘hands’ and ‘heads’ can move together.