The Japan I believe in—and the aesthetic of the Japanese people—originates from the ancient spiritual beliefs that existed before Buddhism was introduced from China around the 6th century.
In the Kojiki, there is the concept of yaoyorozu no kami—the belief that gods dwell in all things. We place our hands together in prayer, purify ourselves, and maintain inner discipline. We cherish silence, revere nature, and believe that waterfalls, trees, rocks, cherry blossoms, thunder, the sun—all are divine. We live each day with a sense of prayer and gratitude.
There are no scriptures or founders in this belief system, yet we value living “purely and rightly,” and we carry the sense that even when no one is watching, “the gods are watching.” I believe this mindset has helped preserve Japan’s order and its unique sense of dignity—something not found elsewhere in Asia—through to the present day.
Before culture or tradition, I feel this is the most essential spirit—one that must be protected moving forward.
In my family home in Kanazawa, there is a kamidana (household shrine). My mother changes the water every day, offers sakaki (a sacred plant believed to house the divine), and prays. Since childhood, this ritual was repeated every morning as something entirely natural. I believe it purified and protected me as well.
Because I live abroad, people sometimes jokingly ask, “Nadia, are you even Japanese?” (laughs). But I have never once forgotten my identity as a Japanese person.
Rather, my Japanese nationality and ethnic identity have been like armor—something I wear as I move forward and face challenges. Living and working in Singapore and across Asia means being surrounded by sharp, business-savvy Chinese professionals, highly rational and forward-thinking Singaporeans, and talented individuals from all over the world. If you let your guard down even slightly, you could lose your visa and be out of the game instantly (laughs).
Completing the Zipangu Project together with all the members has become a great source of confidence for me.
Through what is seen, heard, and felt—through movement and visual expression—we aimed to create something that speaks to the Japanese heart. That was our hope throughout this journey.
One audience member shared this message:
“There was a gentle compassion that stayed close to Japan, while at the same time, I felt a sense of urgency about Japan’s present and future.”
I was truly happy that someone could put our intentions into words and resonate with them.
To me, dancing is entertainment for the audience—a dream. It is also healing for oneself, and a way to express the language of the soul.
I would love to hear your thoughts and impressions as well. Please feel free to share them in the comments or via DM.





