The History of an Industry and the Footprints of Individuals

— To begin with, could you each tell us about the archives you are involved with?

Sugiyama:
The Mahobin (Vacuum Bottle) Museum, where I serve as director, opened in 2008 on the first floor of Zojirushi Corporation’s headquarters to commemorate the company’s 90th anniversary. One of its distinctive features is that it houses not only our own products but also many vacuum bottles made by other companies.
Visitors often say with surprise, “Why does a Tiger bottle appear in a Zojirushi museum? And Thermos?” (both are competing manufacturers). But the history of the vacuum bottle cannot be told through a single company alone. The product evolved through competition among many manufacturers. To show this broader picture of the industry, we intentionally display products from other companies as well.
The collection consists of about 2,800 items. Around 300 are on permanent display, while the remaining 2,500 are stored in an external warehouse.
It was also a deliberate choice not to include the name “Zojirushi” in the museum’s title. By removing the company name, we positioned it as a place that introduces the history of the entire industry.

— Ms. Nomiyama, you are in charge of the Takenobu Igarashi Archive at Kanazawa Institute of Technology. Takenobu Igarashi was a graphic designer who worked internationally from the 1970s before turning to sculpture and later serving as president of Tama Art University. In the 1980s he also designed the visual identity for Kanazawa Institute of Technology, including its logo. It seems quite different in nature from a corporate archive.

Nomiyama:
There are many differences, but one clear example is the timescale. Corporate archives tend to develop along the timeline of an industry—spanning decades or sometimes even a century. What we handle, by contrast, are materials connected to the work of a single designer: Takenobu Igarashi.
In that sense, the archive reflects a limited, personal perspective. Yet precisely because of that, it allows us to read the relationships, collaborations, and atmosphere of the times surrounding him.
Another interesting point is that Kanazawa Institute of Technology originally hired Igarashi as a client. The relationship began as one between a client and a designer, and eventually the university became the custodian of his archive. The fact that such an archive exists within an engineering university rather than a design school is quite unusual.
Since opening in 2023, our activities have been organized around two main pillars: using the archive for education, and researching Igarashi’s work from the perspective of design history.
At Kanazawa Institute of Technology we use the term “kansei education” (education of sensibility). By reinterpreting the “A” in STEAM education (Science, Technology, Engineering, Arts, Mathematics) as kansei, or sensibility, we aim to create learning opportunities that are open even to engineering students.

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Who Preserves the Products of Disappearing Companies?

— What is the significance of “preserving” things within archives?

Sugiyama:
At one time there were more than fifty glass vacuum bottle manufacturers in Osaka alone. Today only a few remain. Zojirushi is now the only company in Japan still producing glass vacuum bottles.
The Yagi Vacuum Bottle Manufacturing Company, which produced the first vacuum bottles in Japan, closed down in 1964. The company itself no longer exists. Yet the products still survive in some form.
I believe that someone must take responsibility for preserving and showing these items—especially products from the first manufacturer in Japan or from companies that have disappeared. That’s why we collect, exhibit, and store them.
Our acquisition routes vary widely: items once kept by the company or industry associations, donations from the public or business partners, and purchases from private sellers through platforms like Mercari and Yahoo Auctions. Occasionally a Yagi vacuum bottle appears at auction, and we think, “We must preserve this,” and place the winning bid.

Nomiyama:
The problem of things not being preserved is something I encounter as well. Right now we’re researching Igarashi’s production process. I want to actually see and touch the tools he used to create paste-ups (the final design compositions).
However, the items Igarashi himself kept are limited, and buying unused tools today isn’t quite the same. To truly reexperience the physical working conditions of the time, tools that have been worn through use are far more convincing. They seem to carry the atmosphere of that era within them.
For example, the drafting table—once used for drawing architectural plans—was a symbolic tool in Igarashi’s work. Yet the ones that used to exist in the architecture department at Kanazawa Institute of Technology appear to have all been discarded.
Another example is the solvent dispenser used with paper cement, an adhesive that every designer once had on their desk. These are becoming increasingly hard to find. The hardest moment is when design professionals say, “We had one until just recently.”

— Are there things that can only be gained by touching the real object?

Nomiyama:
Absolutely. Design is not only about aesthetics; it is shaped by culture and by physical, bodily experience. You cannot fully understand scale or texture through a screen or data.
The sensation of measuring something, the judgment of whether something feels large or small—without those accumulated experiences, it becomes difficult to make design decisions.

Sugiyama:
We see that in our exhibitions as well. When we display vintage floral vacuum bottles, visitors often exclaim, “We had this pattern at home!”
The reaction is completely different from seeing a photo. It seems to bring back memories of everyday life and family at the time. When I see visitors sharing those memories with each other, I feel strongly that preserving the real objects truly matters.

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Archives as an Internal Standard for a Company

— Ms. Nomiyama, you also raised questions about the internal role of corporate archives.

Nomiyama:
Yes. I’ve heard that in some cases corporate archives are seen merely as places where old things are stored. That seems like a missed opportunity.
If a company doesn’t know its own history, it’s difficult to articulate what makes it unique. When looking back at past products, you can say, “Since we’ve done something like this before, this new challenge might also feel true to us.” It becomes a benchmark for decision-making.
Rather than measuring against competitors, an archive allows a company to establish its own internal axis. In that sense, the role of corporate archives is extremely important.

Sugiyama:
At our company, employees who joined after the museum opened are required to visit it. Understanding which products succeeded and which failed—and why—should certainly inform future product development.
However, we haven’t been able to reach employees who joined before the museum opened. We send invitations for each special exhibition, but only a limited number of employees actually come.
To address this, we invite employees’ families during spring and summer vacations. Children can learn how vacuum bottles work, while employees have another chance to reconnect with the company’s history. We are also working to include museum visits in HR training programs.
When I visit other corporate museums, some companies have impressive facilities that are not open to the public at all—they are exclusively for employees. When I asked why, they said, “We built it so employees could learn our company’s history.” I was surprised to see such significant resources dedicated solely to internal use.

Nomiyama:
Another approach might be to offer workshops or guided viewing programs tailored to internal needs. Even a small trigger could increase engagement. Starting with something like a monthly program could raise awareness within the company and further strengthen the archive’s value.

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The Outline of an Era Through Networked Archives

— What is the significance of connections between museums and archives?

Sugiyama:
In recent years I’ve really felt the power of networks formed through lending and borrowing items between institutions.
For example, the Nakanoshima Museum of Art held an exhibition titled “Our Town: Portraits of Osaka.” One section recreated a retro 1970s home. Sekisui House reconstructed the house itself; we lent floral vacuum bottles and electric rice cookers; Panasonic provided home appliances.
By bringing together items from different companies, the full picture of everyday life at that time became visible. No single company could have done that alone.
In our warehouse we have over 100 floral vacuum bottles, yet only a few are displayed permanently. Floral patterns were not limited to vacuum bottles—they appeared on home appliances and tableware as well. If products from the high-growth era were displayed across industries, the design landscape of that era would emerge more clearly.
Right now we’re holding a special exhibition called “Ice Cream and the Vacuum Bottle.” Before refrigerators were common, vacuum bottles were used to store and transport ice cream. Apparently people even brought ice cream in a vacuum bottle when visiting someone in the hospital.
Whether it’s floral patterns or ice cream, using the vacuum bottle as a focal point reveals histories of food culture and everyday life. I feel that this perspective could connect our archive with those of many other industries.

Nomiyama:
A networked archive essentially means that “each place has its own warehouse.” If I want to research vacuum bottles, I know I can come here because I know Ms. Sugiyama. But if that information isn’t widely known, people won’t even know where to start.
The Nakanoshima Museum example illustrates this well. A single theme—vacuum bottles—can lead to food culture and social history. But those curatorial ideas only emerge once you know where things are stored.
A system that connects dispersed archives through a network—like the initiative pursued by DESIGN Design design—could become the infrastructure that allows people to “know” where resources exist.

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Digitization and the Experience Gap

— What are your thoughts on digitization and open data?

Sugiyama:
Recently I’ve been thinking a lot about the term “experience gap.” There are children who simply cannot visit museums, often because family finances or parental interest determine their access to cultural experiences.
If digitization and open data can help reduce that gap, I believe we should actively pursue them.
Another issue is that corporate museums sometimes close suddenly due to company circumstances. Last year alone, two or three major corporate museums shut down. I worry about what will happen to the materials they preserved.
Physical objects are also vulnerable to earthquakes or fires. The value of preserving them as digital data for future generations is therefore significant.

Nomiyama:
Open data is certainly very important. However, I think we have not yet sufficiently demonstrated how it can be used. Even with systems like the National Diet Library’s Japan Search, people who don’t know about them simply won’t encounter them.
Designing how people will actually use the data is a challenge we still face.
Personally, I see digital resources as an alternative rather than a replacement. The surface texture, the sense of scale, the experience of memories overflowing from an object—those can only be obtained from the real thing.
That’s why I always hope people will ultimately encounter the physical objects. As humans with five senses, we should value the richness of the real object.
To make that possible, it’s important to connect networks so people know where items can be borrowed, and to create opportunities for broader understanding of cultural resources and their value.

— Finally, could you share your thoughts on the future of archival work?

Nomiyama:
I think it’s crucial to keep presenting examples of how archives can be used. I’d like to continue experimenting with collaborations across disciplines and industries, creating moments where people say, “I didn’t know archives could be used this way.”
Cross-disciplinary work is already advancing in art and design. If we create one new example, it can attract the next collaborator.

Sugiyama:
The expressive possibilities that arise from connections are truly enormous. Things that one company could never accomplish alone become possible through networks.
Even the items sleeping in our warehouse may one day become an indispensable piece for someone somewhere. For that day to come, we will continue preserving them carefully.