Living Ad-Lib: A Creative Journey Through Dance, Design, and Connection

Could you start by introducing yourself?

My name is Ryota. If I had to put a title on myself, I’d call myself an “artist.” I’m originally from Saitama, but at sixteen I moved to the U.S. and spent my high school years there. Even after graduation, I stayed on for another five years as an adult. I only returned to Japan in 2024, so it’s still very recent. Throughout all that time, I’ve been creating. Dance has always been my primary language of expression. To me it feels as natural as speaking. Alongside that, I also work with design, photography, and even paper-based creations, but dance and design are my two strongest languages. In terms of design, it leans more toward the graphic side. I run a brand called PIBE, which comes from the phrase Play It By Ear. It literally means “to go ad-lib,” and that mindset is central to how I live and create. I wouldn’t go as far as to call myself a full-fledged stylist compared to the professionals out there, but I truly love making clothes and exploring fashion as part of my creative world.

Where did your journey begin?

If I trace it back to the very beginning, it all started with dance. I’ve loved Michael Jackson since I was a kid. When I first saw him perform at the age of eleven, I was completely blown away. That moment changed everything. From there, I wanted to dance. That led me to wanting to learn English, which led to studying abroad. I’d always been into fashion too, largely because of my parents’ influence. In the end, dance became the axis, the doorway that opened me up to so many other forms of expression.

What was it about Michael that fascinated you so much?

That’s a tough one… but to me, he was like a superhero. You know how, as a kid, when you watch Spider-Man you just want to imitate him? For me, it was the same with Michael Jackson—I wanted to be him. He poured love into everything, his dancing, his singing, his performance. He had this power to grab people’s hearts and never let go. Honestly, I still want to be like him even now.

And that eventually connected to apparel as well?

Yeah, it started simply from loving clothes. During COVID, I was in Los Angeles, and all the dance studios suddenly shut down. At that moment I thought, “Alright, I’m going to do everything I’ve ever wanted to try.” California has an energy about it, like you can do anything. Even making T-shirts felt possible. So I bought an iPad, started sketching, and taught myself how to print and design. That’s really where it began. By 2020, my brand was born. At first it was small, I was selling pieces on the street, or asking little shops if they’d carry them. Step by step, it started to grow from there.

Weren’t you scared?

Strangely, no. Los Angeles…and California in general has this vibe of “anything goes.” Everyone is doing what they love, freely. In Japan there’s more of a sense that you have to dedicate yourself to one thing and master it. But America felt completely different. Even in school clubs, the sport changes with the season. Football in the summer, basketball in the winter. The culture is built on the idea that you don’t have to stick to just one thing. It’s normal to try a lot. And L.A., even among American cities, has an even higher degree of freedom. That made me feel, “It doesn’t have to be just dance. I can do everything I want to try.”

I see. But even deciding to study abroad in high school, that in itself is pretty amazing.

Yeah, it was right around the time of high school entrance exams in Japan. My mom asked me, “Where do you really want to go?” And I just said, “I want to go to America, because I love Michael.” She looked at me and said, “Then go for it.” She was pretty funky like that (laughs).

When it was decided that you’d go to high school in the U.S., what emotions did you feel?

To be honest, I don’t really remember at the time… but at my coming-of-age ceremony when I was twenty, it suddenly came back to me. My friends in Saitama were amazing, but I felt this strong sense of “I can’t stay here.” There was excitement, but at the same time I thought, “If I remain, I’ll be trapped.” That feeling was very powerful.

Weren’t you nervous at sixteen?

Because I didn’t know anything, I didn’t even understand what there was to be afraid of (laughs). That’s probably why I could just jump right in. But the first night after arriving in the U.S., I was terrified. The next day I was transferring into a high school where everything was in English. I don’t think I’ve ever been that nervous in my life.

Where does your drive to take action come from?

It’s simply the urge to bring my ideas to life. It’s not about recognition or getting “likes.” Maybe it’s selfish, maybe it’s just for my own satisfaction, but when something wells up inside me, I need to turn it into form. I want to do things no one has done before, or at the very least, things I myself have never seen. That’s all there is to it.

What’s the craziest idea you’ve ever had?

I try to do something new every time, but if I had to pick one, it would be the video project I released this May called “Have You (Really) Heard From Me?.” It’s a series of ten videos, about an hour in total, where I poured in everything I wanted to say. It’s not an easy watch; it might take time to understand and even demand some stamina from the audience. But for me, it's “self-propelling work.” Something with enough energy to keep moving on its own, even if I’m no longer here. Creating that feels like a real source of pride.

When you created it, what kind of feeling did you want the audience to walk away with?

Honestly, I didn’t create it with a specific reaction in mind. I just wanted people to feel something. Even if they hate it, that’s fine. If someone thinks, “What is this? It pisses me off!” that’s still a strong reaction, and strong emotions, whether positive or negative, carry energy. Ideally, that energy sparks action. Maybe it pushes someone to try something new, or to write something down. If it inspires that kind of movement, then it’s more than enough.

You sound pretty uncompromising when it comes to your work.

Yeah, I think so. With my brand, there are parts that won’t spread unless I personally share the story behind it. But with film, it’s different. Even if I’m not there, the work itself can speak. That’s why I feel I’ve finally created something that can run on its own.

Do you remember the very first item you sold?

Yes, absolutely. I still vividly remember the day I put my very first T-shirt out on the streets of Los Angeles. A Black father and his young son came up to me and asked, “What are you doing?” I told them, “Today’s my first time selling.” He smiled and said, “That’s great, I’ll take one.” That moment, selling my first shirt to that father and son, is something I’ll never forget. What struck me even more was that he worked as a craftsman making scientific instruments, a world completely different from mine. But he told me, “If you’re doing what you love, that’s the most important thing.” Those words, along with that memory, have stayed with me ever since.

It sounds like meeting people holds a lot of meaning in your work today.

Definitely. For me, the happiest moments are when real connections are made. It matters far more than whether something sells, what’s priceless is making friends or creating bonds that money can’t buy. From the outside, I might look social, but in truth I’m pretty introverted. I can count on one hand the friends I truly open up to. And that’s exactly why those relationships feel so precious to me.

So that’s why human connection becomes the driving force behind your work.

Exactly. It’s not about having a large number of connections. But if I encounter even a single moment that truly moves my heart—that alone is enough to make me happy.

Earlier you shared the moments that make you happiest. On the flip side, have there been times in your work when you felt, “Maybe this isn’t going to work”?

Not to the point where I wanted to quit, but there have been moments that felt like “noise.” Recently, for example, when I exhibited at a festival. There were lots of vendors with booths, connecting with people and showing their work. Many of them were giving out free stickers just to get their names out there, and I did the same. Of course, I’m happy when people take them. But a small percentage, maybe 2%, treat it like a game of “how many can I grab?” They don’t even make eye contact, just take and go. It made me realize, “This is being consumed in a way I never intended.” That’s why I know I have to be more thoughtful in how I present my work so it doesn’t get caught up in that kind of numbers game.

The way you express that feels really thoughtful and kind.

Well, for me it always comes back to connection. Of course, there will be people I don’t click with, that’s natural. But I don’t want to be misunderstood because of that. It means I have to approach things more cleverly, to make sure the focus stays on genuine connection.

Do you ever feel fear or conflict within yourself?

Every day. Right now, I’m working as a regular company employee in an industry completely unrelated to my art. Of course, work is necessary, and creating costs money, so I need it for my life. But every day I find myself wondering, “Is this really what I should be doing?” I feel like there’s more I could be doing. I see people around me making a living as freelancers, and I keep asking myself, “What would that look like for me?” But at the same time, there’s a fear that keeps me from taking that leap.

So you’d like to spend more of your time outside of being a company employee?

Yes, I’d like that. But I guess part of me is still scared. If I were truly ready, if my resolve was solid, I know it wouldn’t be impossible. The fact that I haven’t taken that step yet probably means I haven’t fully made up my mind.

And in your current situation, what specifically leaves you feeling unsettled?

Simply put, I don’t have enough time to devote to my own work. Of course, I’m doing my best within the time I have, but it still feels limited. Another thing is that my current job doesn’t let me feel like I’m making people happy. It’s in sales, so I struggle to feel any real interest in the industry itself. In the past, I worked in restaurants, in clothing shops, and even taught English. In all of those jobs, I could see people’s smiles right in front of me. Now that’s missing. Even though I’m being paid, I can’t help but wonder, “Is this really what I should be doing forever?”

What does dance mean to you? And how has it impacted your life?

If I set the timeline from when I started dancing at age eleven, the biggest change is that I gained confidence. Kids usually like themselves by nature, but dance gave me something deeper—a sense of real confidence. Dance itself is about natural expression rather than overthinking, so I don’t get caught up in my head much there. But with projects like the video piece I mentioned earlier, where I build something around music as a package, it’s different. I wanted to create something like an album, something that expresses my whole self. Seeing artists who turn raw experiences like losing parents, heartbreak and new encounters into art made me think, “I want to try that too.” And when I actually did, I realized, “Oh, I can do this.” More than that, I could say to myself, “You really worked hard.” For the first time, I was able to look at my life from above and think, “This might actually be a good life.” That became a huge source of confidence for me.

I see. So that’s something you feel when you look back at your own work. Would you say your expression is quite raw and unfiltered?

Yes. Some people might even see it and decide they don’t want to be friends with me anymore. But there are things you can’t communicate unless you’re honest. In the long run, I believe honesty is better than telling convenient lies. Sure, some people won’t get it, but there will always be others who do.

Weren’t you worried that the connections you’d built might fall apart?

Superficial relationships might fade, but that’s okay. What really matters are the people who truly understand. I actually invited my closest friends over to watch it together, and they were moved. I didn’t create the work hoping to make anyone cry, but in that moment I felt, “They get it.” And that alone made me feel it was the right thing to do.

I’d like to ask about Tokyo as well. What kind of place is Tokyo to you? I imagine there might be some contrasts with your time in the U.S.

For me, Tokyo is like a “playground.” Compared to cities like New York or LA, which aren’t as orderly, Tokyo is incredibly clean and well-organized. That makes a lot of things easier here. But on the flip side, it also means you start noticing the smallest things. In America, the streets are messier, so one piece of trash doesn’t even register. In Tokyo, you can’t help but notice it.

And where do you feel the biggest differences are between the U.S. and Tokyo?

In America, nobody cares about what others are doing. For better or worse, people are completely self-centered. From the perspective of someone coming from outside, Tokyo might also feel like a place where “no one pays attention to you.” But in reality, America takes it to an entirely different level. So much so that it can actually be a bit of a nuisance (laughs).

Is there a particular episode that has stayed with you?

Yes, something I witnessed in New York really shocked me. A homeless man got on the train and started laying out dozens of QR codes, saying, “Please send money here.” And nobody paid much attention. At the next station he quickly gathered them up and left, like it was nothing. It never even made the news. That kind of thing just becomes normal in America. Tokyo, on the other hand, is almost the opposite. The rules are so strict that people end up bound by them, for better and worse. In my apartment, for example, there’s a rule that you can’t bring bicycles inside. If the concern is dirt, then you could just clean it. But the rule is simply, “No bikes inside, because no bikes inside.” It’s like in school, where they’d ban bead accessories for no real reason. I think it reflects Japan’s seriousness. And the other big gap I felt when I came back? The food is unbelievably good (laughs). Also, people here are kind, but it’s a different kind of kindness. In Japan, kindness often feels like “kindness that follows the rules.” In America, it comes in another form.

Do you ever feel like moving back to America?

No, I don’t think I’d live there again. Visiting friends from time to time is enough. If I move abroad next, I’d rather choose somewhere I’ve never lived before. Europe interests me, especially the Nordic countries. Finland, for instance, feels so charming. Even the sound of the word “Finland” itself is kind of cute (laughs).

Scandinavia is also fascinating when it comes to design and art, isn’t it?

Yeah, I read in a book recently that in Finland, the word “fashionable” doesn’t even exist. It shocked me how such a stylish country does not have the word for it. But it’s because for them, it’s simply normal. They’re just doing what feels natural and comfortable. That’s something I’d love to see with my own eyes. Even just as a trip, I definitely want to go there someday.

Looking ahead, is there something you’d like to try or something you’re planning for the future?

I want to have my own store. Eventually, I’d love to grow it into maybe ten locations. But first, I want to focus on just one and really build it from the ground up. Starting here in Japan, I’d like to create a place that the local community truly loves. I think opening in the countryside could also be meaningful. The whole point of having a physical space is that people in that area can feel it directly. That’s the biggest difference from the internet. I want it to be something rooted in people’s everyday lives.

So you’d like your brand to become something rooted in the daily lives of the community?

That’s part of it, yes. But I also believe that earning money simply means offering what I can do best. That could be through dance, or maybe through creating a café-like space. I want to connect what I can provide with the history of the place or the building itself, and offer something meaningful out of that combination.

Earlier you mentioned that your apparel brand can’t quite “run on its own” yet. That the best thing for people to do is share the story and intention behind it. Could you tell me more about that story and concept?

The brand is called PIBE. It comes from the phrase play it by ear, which means “go ad-lib.” My life has pretty much been lived ad-lib, improvising along the way. Of course, I also like making plans, and I get uneasy without them. But still, I want my clothes and hats to carry that feeling: that even in the middle of everyday life, when things feel heavy, one glance at a piece might remind you there’s always the option to “go ad-lib.” If it can lighten that weight, even just a little, then the brand is doing what it’s meant to do.

Hearing the meaning behind it, your products almost feel like talismans.

Exactly. That’s what I’d love them to be. If someone first sees a piece simply as a cute design, that can spark an encounter, lead to a conversation, and eventually bring them to the store. I want to create that kind of cycle.

If you could say something to your past self, what would it be?

I’d tell myself, “It’s okay. You’re going to be fine.” No matter what happens, you’ll find a way through, and you’ll make it work. So really, don’t worry.

So those words are for the version of yourself who felt uncertain?

Yes. I still feel fear every day even now, but back then it was so much heavier. That’s why I’d want to say, “Don’t worry. When you look back, you’ll realize it was all fun.”

Finally, if there’s one message you’d like to share with the world, what would it be?

That’s a tough one. But I think it can be simple: “Live kindly.” Of course, there will be times when you can’t be kind, and that’s okay. When I see someone acting without kindness, I want to be able to think, “They just don’t have the space for it right now.” And when I do have the space, I want to make sure I show kindness fully. After a day like today, spending time enjoying this conversation, I feel I can say it clearly: live kindly, whenever you can.

And what about those times when you feel like you can’t be kind?

Then I eat, take a bath, and sleep. That’s it (laughs).