interview by Alper Kurtul
Tokyo’s energy, New York’s boundless creativity, and Miyako Island’s quiet, almost womb-like protective nature. Japanese artist Mariko Mori redefines light, time, and space as she moves between these different worlds. Her latest project, Radiance, brings together ancient stone spirituality and advanced technology to make the invisible visible. Her self-designed home, Yuputira, which she dedicates to the sun god, is not merely a living space for her; it is the architecture of becoming one with nature. Ahead of her upcoming retrospective, Mori shares with us both the source of her creativity and the enduring meaning of silence in the contemporary world.
ALPER KURTUL: I’d love to begin with Radiance. It’s such a luminous project, both visually and conceptually. Radiance brings together ancient stone spirituality and advanced materials. What first drew you to connect the sacred and the scientific in one visual language?
MARIKO MORI: Yes, these ancient stones, which we can call divine stones, are believed to be landing stones of nature gods, or sometimes the gods themselves live within them. This tradition started during the Jōmon era, probably around 1500 BC, but it developed further during the Kofun period, between the 5th and 7th centuries. Even today, people still worship these divine stones.
Instead of focusing on the physicality of the stone, I wanted to interpret the existence of this divine stone, making the invisible visible. To do that, I used a medium that could project the feeling of the stone’s metaphysical aspect rather than its physical one.
KURTUL: I was also reading about Yuputira. How does inhabiting a space you designed change your daily relationship with light and creation?
MORI: Yes, it was my dream for about fifteen years. It truly was a dream come true, something I had long envisioned. Producing it was such a joy because it was like bringing a wish into reality. I also enjoyed collaborating with different craftsmen. It was exciting to use technology to create forms that were not possible fifty years ago. It was worth the wait because now we have 3D printing and new tools. I probably made around 30 different models of the house. It was really fun to do.
At first, I felt a little pressure to produce truly great work from that studio, but I began to enjoy being there because it represented my vision of heaven on Earth, together with nature, a feeling of oneness with it. Every day, you witness the passage of time, moment to moment, as nature changes, the sea’s low tide and high tide, the sky’s shifting colors. It is endlessly changing, never the same.
The beauty of nature made a huge impact on me and really opened my mind toward it. I do feel quite isolated because it is remote, like living in my own bubble, but I also feel protected and nurtured by nature. I love it there and never want to leave, but I have to work, so I cannot stay for long periods. I go back and forth and try to spend as much time as I can. It is really like heaven on Earth for me.
KURTUL: It feels like an inspirational place for you, and also a very personal one. Is that feeling of being nurtured a source of inspiration?
MORI: Yes, very much so. The village I belong to is quite far away, but still part of that community, and it has a beautiful sacred site that I often visit. It is very powerful. The island itself is deeply rooted in this culture, with around 500 sacred sites where about 70,000 people live. The rituals have been passed down since the 13th century and continue today.
KURTUL: I also love how you ground your architectural works in mythology. Yuputira was inspired by the island’s sun god, and I’m curious about how that divine symbolism shapes the way you perceive time, solitude, and renewal in your life as an artist.
MORI: Yes, it is my way to honor the local culture. Unfortunately, even though some areas continue to perform these rituals, the village I belong to no longer practices them. I was afraid this important tradition might disappear, because those names are preserved in songs. During the rituals, people would pray and sing these songs, but since no one performs them anymore, they risk being lost.
Therefore, I wanted to honor the local sun god, which is why I named the house Yuputira. The meaning is also important: yupu means indulgence or richness, and tira means sun. So, it means “rich sun,” symbolizing the sun that gives harvest. People were wishing for abundance from the sun, which I believe is why they named it that way. I wanted this place to receive the energy of the sun and evoke a feeling of fulfillment.
I also designed the openings of the windows to directly respond to the sun’s path. I wanted this architecture to honor the sun.
KURTUL: The stones in Radiance feel alive. They seem to hold something ancient but almost futuristic as well. What kind of presence or silence do you think stones still carry in a world ruled by technology?
MORI: When you stand in front of these sacred stones, you feel a very heavy physical presence. But I imagined that these stones are full of light, perhaps connected to the world of light and receiving the light within. That was my imagination when I visited many sacred sites. It felt universal to all divine stones.
It was my way to visualize the metaphysical feeling of the stone. I was able to do that through new technology. Even though the material is physical, I try to transform something that you cannot see within the real stone.
KURTUL: You also have a major retrospective coming up. What excites you most about seeing your work interpreted through Alexandra Munroe and Mami Kataoka, through these two distinct curatorial lenses?
MORI: Alexandra Munroe has a very deep understanding of Japanese contemporary art history, and not only of the philosophical background of Japan, such as Buddhism and Shintoism, but also of the international art community through the Guggenheim. That balance is very exciting.
Mami, coming from Japan, has more insight from within and a deep knowledge of contemporary art from around the world, both Western and Eastern. They are in the same field but have different strengths. I feel very privileged to have these two strong curators bringing together this retrospective. I am very excited about it. Through them, I hope to reach not only the art world but also a broader audience.
KURTUL: The collaboration between the Mori Art Museum and the Guggenheim feels like a genuine dialogue between East and West. What do you hope this partnership communicates about Japanese spirituality in a global art context?
MORI: I cannot really speak for them, as we are still developing and collaborating. The structure of the exhibition is mostly complete, but we still have to work on the details. I am looking forward to having more conversations with them. It is truly joyful work.
KURTUL: Your trajectory from the futuristic to the spiritual is fascinating. What inner or creative shift led you from posthuman cyborg imagery to meditative installations?
MORI: When I was producing Esoteric Cosmos, I visited all the sites and photographed the backdrops myself. At that time, Photoshop did not exist; there was no AI or digital editing. I had to travel physically with a photographer to capture the backgrounds. I visited the Painted Desert in Arizona, the Dead Sea in Israel, and Turpan in China, seeking landscapes that matched my vision.
While visiting these places, I was confronted with vast, powerful, and overwhelming nature, especially in the Painted Desert. At the same time, Esoteric Cosmos was about the iconography of esoteric Buddhism, so I was studying Buddhism deeply. Both experiences—the philosophical study and the direct encounter with immense nature—happened in parallel and opened my mind. They led me to a deeper exploration of Buddhism and to the spiritual dimension that began to inform my later works.
KURTUL: The parallel between your study of Buddhism and your encounters with nature really opened my mind, too. Your installations also evoke strong emotional responses. What role does emptiness play in how you design these environments? I feel like your installations make people feel rather than just observe.
MORI: When you are full, you cannot conceive. But when you are empty, you have limitless space. When your mind is full of many things, it becomes a closed world. But when your mind is empty, you are suddenly connected to the whole world. You open up to limitless space and endless time. That is the symbolism of void and emptiness that I learned from Buddhist philosophy.
That is why, in Yuputira, I have quite empty rooms. They open up to unlimited possibilities.
KURTUL: You divide your time between such diverse energies, like Tokyo, New York, and Miyako Island. How do these environments feed or challenge your spiritual and creative practice?
MORI: I would say New York and Miyako Island are complete opposites. It is almost like going from hot to cold, two extremes. In New York, there is so much energy from people. The people are very engaging, and that creates an amazing kind of energy, intellectually and culturally, with people from all over the world. It is a very dynamic mix, and it is wonderful.
Since I first came to New York in 1992, I have always been encouraged to do what seems impossible. There is no other place in the world that inspires you to challenge yourself in that way. I love this attitude of pushing limits.
Meanwhile, in Miyako Island, I feel nurtured by nature, almost like being in a mother’s womb, very protected. In New York, it is like being whipped, and in Miyako Island, it is like being soothed with sugar. They are opposites, but for me, it is a necessary balance. New York expects you to give — to have energy, ideas, and creativity to share. Miyako Island gives that energy back. I feel completely recharged there and ready to return to New York.
KURTUL: Yes, and decharged here in New York as well.
MORI: Yes. I am also encouraged by the people in New York. I dream here, and then I go back to Miyako Island to execute those dreams.
KURTUL: Finally, Radiance feels like both a culmination and a new beginning. If Radiance marks a turning point before the retrospective, what do you feel you are radiating toward next, both personally and artistically?
MORI: I would like to project hope. We hear so much news about uncertainty in society, and people may develop fear, but we must always keep hope and project the future. I hope this exhibition encourages people to project light toward the future. I wish that when people come to see the exhibition, they find their own inner light to carry forward.