Quiet Style
Gama posted an in-depth interview with Keita re: the Nottingham park project. It does a great job of capturing his current state of mind.. especially as it relates to his feelings about being a “game” designer.
I liked this part especially:
After the press conference, one of GameCity’s organizers drove Takahashi to the local art store where he filled his basket with crayons, stickers, pens, sheaths of paper and, of course, a coat hanger. Then they took a taxi to this room, and closed the door behind him.
It’s hard to shake the feeling its precisely this sort of largely directionless creativity, free from the constraints of financial targets, demographics and brand-building that has brought Takahashi to this unlikely nook on the other side of his world.
In answer to his deflected question about what I think makes a good playground, I suggest that I’ve always enjoyed a sense of progression, where one object leads to the next, giving the participant a sense of journey, like a playful assault course.
Takahashi doesn’t respond at first, mulling it over, perhaps masking a sneer. “If there’s a pattern embedded in the design of a park, the danger is always that all of the kids just end up doing the same stuff…” he murmurs.
It’s this sort of aimless approach to game design that frustrated some players and critics with regards to his most recent title, Nobi Nobi Boy, a game that’s difficult to articulate within the usual parameters of success and failure. And yet, this dislike of the order and rigid structure of mainstream games seems to imbue every aspect of Takahashi’s approach.
It’s hard to put a project like the park into words.
I spent most of Sunday with Keita at the park site & studio – and I still am not sure how to describe it. After exploring the grounds, reviewing his sketches, drawing, playing with clay and then discussing the whole thing over ramen… I felt like I had a strange, foggy tangle in my mind. So many things to consider! Days later, that sense of … complex hugeness, is still with me.
Over the last few years, what I’ve come to appreciate most about Keita is his enduring patience – and ability to calmly contemplate huge, tangly messes. What makes me anxious and compulsive… he can sit with, quietly. Stuff that’s chaotic and overwhelming washes over him – and is transformed into something better. In no small way, it is this patience that makes our friendship even possible.
Walking back from the studio, we talked about this: the quiet center of his style (slow burn… gradually coming to an idea) the loudness of mine (flashes & sparks… an explosion from compressed inputs). He likes to tease me about my brashness… and I, his silent brooding. But in the end – these are strengths, too.
And for the park… an open-ended, visionary task – a designer like Keita is the perfect fit. Because the inputs are overwhelming, chaotic, fuzzy, strange. And you just have to be one with the space and all of its possibilities – until the idea emerges from within.
I was genuinely touched to read this interview, which gets at the heart of Keita’s gifts – and challenges within the context of our industry and even, this project. It’s nice to see a piece describe his process (and its context) with such tenderness and respect.
