art | When Care Becomes a Language: Nao Kobayashi

Patience starts with the little things—like looking into someone's eyes while listening, with heart. The effect is beyond. When you feel you truly heard, you feel valued, connected, and alive. While meeting Nao Kobayashi, I felt listened to and, at some point, healed. Meet Nao Kobayashi, puppetry designer and founder of Nuno Zoo.

 

 

 

I've learned so much about your career while exploring your website—puppetry, costume design for theatre, film, fashion show installations, and more. What first drew you into this world?

I created other genres of art before, but they made me feel lonely. Theatre and costume design were different because they involved problem-solving with teamwork. I started out in college studying studio art, and eventually became curious about technical theatre and costume design. At the same time, I was exploring body movement through dance, martial arts, improvisation, and experimental performance art. Theatre naturally brings many disciplines and people together, and that environment teaches you to see your work from multiple perspectives. Your awareness and skills have to multitask within a production. I think that foundation in theatre gave me the flexibility and problem-solving mindset that allowed me to transition into other areas of design.

I was struck by the delicate precision of your creations, which clearly require a deep understanding of anatomy—not just human, but animal and mythical as well. On top of that, there's wild imagination. I believe this sets your work apart from other costume designs.

When I begin a new project, I return to a quote from the founder of Shintaido, a Japanese budo: "Body is a message of the universe." Exploring kinetic sensations in my own body while sketching and studying anatomy helps shape my designs. Even if the final creations look nothing like my initial research, that process allows me to build bodies and creatures that feel believable—creations that could exist. The wilder the idea, the more I want to anchor it in real knowledge. In my imagination, the boundary between animals and humans is fluid. Growing up in Japan, a culture shaped by Shintoism—an indigenous animism that sees spirits in animals, plants, and even inanimate objects—I imagine that all beings carry a kind of divinity. I also connect with many Indigenous cultures' respect for animals as spiritually advanced beings, perhaps more grounded than humans with our busy minds. Like the ancient traditions that imagined supernatural beings between human and animal forms, I enjoy letting my imagination drift toward existences just beyond the ordinary world.

 

I enjoyed seeing your 2D sketches for ideas and planning. Your process seems to weave together sketching, observation, imagination, research, collaboration, making, and live performance. Which part of this process feels most satisfying to you—the part that keeps you going?

The moment when things—or people—become aligned and connected. Through studying movement and the body, I've learned that wellness and beauty often emerge from relaxation and alignment. When the body is in its natural flow, you feel good. I try to bring that same sensation into my sketches, ideas, and performances. When I feel that sense of alignment in the work—or with the audience—that is a gift. That is what keeps me going.

Let's talk about your personal project, 'Nuno Zoo' (nuno means fabric in Japanese). Why did you choose the animal world as your theme?

This may sound a bit mischievous, but people can become very limited—or triggered—when they see a human body. Whenever I work with a human form, there are always other human bodies that feel unrepresented, and I can sometimes feel overwhelmed by the politics surrounding that, haha. Animals are generous in that way; they allow more anonymity and universality. Across many cultures and folk traditions, people project meaning onto animals, which allows viewers to connect more freely. Through the animal world, I think I can reach something more open, inclusive, and shared. 

 

Tell me about the people who collect your work.

I feel that a wide range of people are drawn to my work. Many people start smiling as soon as they see the pieces, and collectors often share personal stories with such open hearts. They tend to be thoughtful self-carers, enjoying communicating with their inner voices and the pieces they own. While engaging with these animals, their everyday logical thinking softens, allowing imagination to drift and explore, and they often describe feeling both expressive and listened to. Some support my practice because of environmental values, as each piece is an action toward reducing fabric waste (*All Nuno Zoo creations are made from upcycled fabrics).

I can feel your joy and excitement in the presence of your pieces—playfulness, warmth, inspiration. What other feelings or ideas do you hope they carry to others?

One idea—still difficult to describe perfectly—is what I call spiritually entertaining. I don't believe spiritual practice needs to stay within formal structures; I want it to be accessible in everyday life. Giggles and jokes, mismatches and disproportions… through those elements, I hope to gently expand our definition of beauty, and my not-so-perfect-perfect animals can help people rediscover their own beauty as well.

 

We believe that artists are great at self-care as they take time to contemplate and understand themselves deeply. It would be wonderful to hear a bit of your insight on human energy levels that you said you are always interested in.

I love observing people, and over time I've realized that most communication happens nonverbally rather than through language. I'm fascinated by how much we express through delicate nuances, or on multidimensional levels. Noticing things on an energetic level is simply part of that awareness. It helps me understand people and myself more deeply, beyond words.

 

Would you share how to become a good listener?

We all face communication barriers as individuals. Interestingly, I sometimes find communication even more challenging with people who share the same culture and language. Many misunderstandings with family or close friends come from unspoken social expectations rather than language itself. Once I realized this, I cared less about language barriers.

Over time, I've learned to focus more on observing nonverbal communication and to give myself more time to process what is being said. This has helped expand my communication "vocabulary" beyond words. Listening, to me, is not a passive act. When you actively observe, you learn much more than what is spoken—whether the listener is fully present, what expectations they carry, and how they express themselves through posture, tone of voice, facial expressions, and eye contact. I wouldn't say I'm a good listener yet, but I actively practice becoming a more attentive observer, and that has significantly improved how I communicate with others.

 

Where do you feel your interests are heading these days?

I like to follow inspiration in a natural flow. Since it's winter now, I'm drawn to rest and meditation. Reflecting on the year, I want to embrace a quiet, empty period—much like animals who pause their activity in winter. In that void, I can let go of what I no longer need, dream, and gather strength and sparkles for the next season.

 

Words and photography by The JODE Team | Artwork images courtesy of Nao Kobayashi/ NunoZoo