Yokohama Para Triennale: Co-Creation ~ Combining Individuality to Paint a Unique Picture

"Co-Creation" refers to an approach where new value is generated through dialogue with diverse stakeholders. Derived from the meaning of "creating together," it is also called "kyosou" (共創). The co-creation portal site "cotas," operated by Dentsu Inc. and Infobahn, hosted the third annual "Japan Co-Creation Awards 2014" to recognize outstanding co-creation cases. This series explores co-creation trends and movements through the lens of award-winning cases and judges' perspectives.

For the fourth installment, we welcomed Ms. Ryo Kurisu, General Director of the international contemporary art exhibition " Yokohama Para Triennale 2014," selected as one of the award's best case studies. We present a roundtable discussion with Ms. Chiaki Hayashi, award judge and CEO of Loftwork Inc., and Mr. Hide Ashida, who works on diversity initiatives at Dentsu Inc.

The " Yokohama Para Triennale 2014 " was an international contemporary art exhibition featuring people with disabilities and professionals from diverse fields. In 2009, the experimental project "Yokohama Rendezvous Project" began, attempting next-generation manufacturing involving disability facilities and artists. From this initiative, the "Slow Label" was born. Following three "SLOW FACTORY Exhibitions," it evolved into a community activity where local residents, regardless of disability, interact through crafting. By identifying societal barriers and creating opportunities for shared reflection, it aims to build a city where everyone can live comfortably.

What the Para Triennale Brought

Ashida: For community-based activities, collaboration with local governments is essential. I imagine there's inevitably a difference in perspective, or a kind of barrier, when working with them. How did you build relationships with city officials when implementing the Para Triennale?

Kurisu: The main venue for the Para Triennale, " Zou-no-hana Terrace," is a facility owned by Yokohama City. As part of the organization commissioned by the city to plan and operate this project, we proposed the Para Triennale concept. Since it began as a municipal initiative, we didn't have to involve the local government midway through.

Hayashi: Long before the Paratriennale, Mr. Kurisu had been working to revitalize the local area centered around Zou-no-hana Terrace. Beyond collaborating with the administration, I imagine there were many other barriers and challenges. What was particularly difficult?

Kurisu: Among welfare specialists, there are those who feel the limitations of current approaches. When such individuals first encounter someone viewing things from a different angle, their values shift slightly, and their approach to interacting with people with disabilities changes a bit. Previously, the relationship was "support staff and service user," but I believe people within the welfare field started thinking, "There are other ways to do this."

Ashida: That's a Copernican shift, isn't it?

Kurisu: At the Para Triennale, we treat all participants equally, including those with disabilities. For example, we interact with A-kun, who is non-disabled and attends a regular school, the same way we do with B-kun, who attends a special needs school. Even if they start a fight, we don't forcefully stop them. While typical disability support activities often tend to be overly protective of children with disabilities, at the Para Triennale, parents tell us things like, "We're truly grateful you interact with them this way," or "It feels incredibly refreshing." If we were welfare specialists, we might not have interacted that way. Since we didn't know what the "correct" way to interact was, we just treated each other as human beings in a way that felt comfortable for both sides – a natural way of interacting. That, in itself, ended up being what felt comfortable.

Let's move our hands instead of debating

Hayashi: Kurisu-san, even before Para Triennale, you were involved in co-creation. What I notice is that you always seem to believe the catalyst isn't discussion, but physical action. When we discuss things, we get bogged down in minor definitions of words, even when the core differences aren't that significant. But when we move our bodies together and end up laughing, the definitions of words just don't matter anymore, right?

Kurisu: Exactly. Just like in welfare settings, I connect people from diverse cultures and backgrounds in other projects too. Everyone in each field has their own struggles. But a problem in one field might be the breakthrough for another. There are countless things in the world that could be resolved pleasantly for everyone by combining the challenges here and there. But people are bound by their fields, industries, and titles, so they can't see things from a perspective that transcends those boundaries. In those cases, it's actually very simple: just meet someone and talk, or get your hands dirty together once.

Kurisu: For me, moving my body equals thinking of ideas. And I'm pretty good at painting exciting pictures like, "What if we combine this person's problem with that person's problem? We could do something really interesting." Then I approach each person and say, "Hey, why don't you meet up with that person?"

Ashida: So, by moving your body like that, you can bring together all sorts of people, including the government, right?

Kurisu: Exactly. With the Para Triennale, you have people from government, welfare, art, business, students—all kinds of people, each with their own worries and challenges. My role is to think up hints for solutions and suggest, "Why not try this?"

Ashida: I see. You're truly a producer.

Kurisu: And in doing so, I always aim for both "diversity" and "harmony." I'm constantly thinking about what kind of "picture of harmony" emerges when you combine the diverse individuality of each and every person. I don't believe "peace" exists. Peace is a one-sided perspective; achieving peace for one person might mean someone else suffers on the other side. But harmony is gentle for everyone.

Hayashi: It's a neutral perspective, isn't it?

Kurisu: That's what co-creation is about. If someone asks, "What does co-creation do?" it's about creating harmony. And that often leads to innovative scenarios.

Ashida: But at that point, you need someone to create the spark – someone who says, "Combining this and this will create harmony, right?" And you need someone to hang ideas out there and get people excited, saying, "This is fun!" Otherwise, it won't move forward.

Hayashi: I think co-creation is like a chemical reaction. You can't start a fire with just one material, like wood alone, and fire alone isn't enough either. When several substances combine, some chemical reactions ignite fiercely, while others react slowly and steadily. I think people like Kurisu and I are catalysts – the "mediators" who trigger those chemical reactions. Rather than burning up and changing myself, I enjoy imagining the chemical reaction: "Mixing this and that will surely be wonderful." However, harmony feels a bit off to me. For example, mixing red sand and white sand makes pink sand. But if you look really closely, the sand is still white and red. That's compromise-based harmony. What I want to create is an irreversible chemical reaction – one where there's no going back. When I meet Mr. Kurisu, I want to create a reaction where it's like, "There's no turning back now."

Kurisu: Looking toward 2020, we're currently developing a five-year plan that includes the Para Triennale. A common thread throughout is creating opportunities for encounters. Whether it's people with disabilities, foreigners, or different generations, we need to create places and chances for diverse people to meet. Then, we need them to become friends. Once we get to that point, things will work out. For example, a ramp might be convenient for one person but become a barrier for another. Achieving something universally accessible for everyone is difficult. But in those moments, the kindness of the person next to you matters most. Instead of solving a small step with a ramp, it's solved by the person next to you offering a hand. For that to happen, the most simple and important thing is first having opportunities to meet various people, get to know each other, and become friends. With friends, it's not "I don't know how to interact," but rather going out together and naturally supporting each other.

Ashida: What I found wonderful about the Para Triennale is that, even if you can't easily become friends within the limited time, you can later share the experience of "That was great!" – a shared sense of accomplishment. So when you say, "Let's do it again in two years," you can move forward together toward the same goal.

Kurisu: This year, we plan to run several "space-making" programs. We'll approach it in various ways, not just in Yokohama but nationwide. Next year, we're considering doing it overseas too.

"Incompleteness" coming together to form harmony

Ashida: I think so-called "disability art" is often discussed in terms of its rehabilitative aspects. But the Para Triennale goes beyond that, achieving equal participation from non-disabled people and international participants. Is this something that can be achieved through the power of "first creating a space to meet"? I imagine there must be tremendous effort behind the scenes.

Kurisu: For me, people with disabilities and without, people of different nationalities, religions, and generations—they're all the same. So, the programs I envision don't think, "This is for that person." That's why I believe they naturally become something anyone can participate in.

Hayashi: We often hear about the coming era of IoT (Internet of Things), where everything connects to the internet. But I actually felt scientific support for humans and human behavior was lagging the most. For example, right now, the three of us are having this conversation. By attaching sensors to us, we could visualize who is chiming in, who is communicating with whom. Seeing that would give feedback like, "Did I talk a bit too much?" or "I thought I was talking evenly with everyone, but I was only talking to specific people," allowing us to improve ourselves. Seeing that really moved me, thinking about all the possibilities it opens up.

Kurisu: One key difference between so-called disability art and the Para Triennale is that we don't fixate on the label "disabled artist." Conventional disability art often spotlights disabled individuals who are already established as artists. But that approach inevitably draws a line between disabled and non-disabled people, leading to debates about whether they're valued solely because of their disability. The Para-Triennale, instead, focuses on "someone's outstanding aspect" – something like a heightened sense of touch in a person with hearing impairment. It's not about whether that person is a fully-fledged artist. People often say things like "people with disabilities are rich in sensitivity," but not everyone possesses artistic ability or expressive power. The Paralympic Triennale focuses solely on elements like each individual's abilities and personality.

Hayashi: So it's about possessing a highly refined ability.

Kurisu: Precisely why co-creation with others becomes essential.

Ashida: So even if someone isn't a fully formed artist, it's okay as long as everyone works together toward a shared form?

Kurisu: Exactly. We believe in creating a single work through mutual complementarity within a team. Conversely, individuals who are self-contained might not quite fit with the Para Triennale. We often hear things like, "We have someone at our facility who's incredibly talented at drawing," or "We'd like our work displayed too." For those, we think participating in art exhibitions or competitions would be better. The Para Triennale is an initiative challenging how we can use the power of art to give back to society through the outstanding abilities of people with disabilities.

Ashida: So it's really about that chemical reaction concept.

Kurisu: Society often positions people with disabilities as vulnerable because they can't do the same things as the majority, viewing them as people who need support. But we think it's outrageous to try to average them out. Their superhuman abilities and individuality are precious resources for society. To utilize them, other people need creativity and flexibility, and we want the Para Triennale to be an event that cultivates that perspective.