VOICES: Kyoto PR expert Yuki Hatta on the Art of Wabi Sabi
In Kyoto, where centuries of craftsmanship, ritual, and aesthetic philosophy shape everyday life, storytelling is not a profession—it is an inheritance. For Yuki Hatta, Founder of hatta, inc., cultural PR is rooted in lived experience: a childhood surrounded by Kiyomizu-yaki artisanship, the discipline of generational craft, and the quiet understanding that beauty is built through devotion over time.
Bridging Japan and New York, tradition and global branding, Yuki Hatta has cultivated a distinctive voice in cultural communication—one that translates heritage into contemporary relevance without compromising authenticity. Her work spans luxury hospitality, temples, fine jewelry, and place-based art initiatives, all connected by a single thread: the emotional power of culture shaped by place.
In this conversation, she reflects on cultural inheritance, the evolving meaning of luxury, and the responsibility of storytellers to protect—not commodify—the living histories they represent.
Growing up in Kyoto within a family of traditional Kiyomizu-yaki craftsmen, how did early exposure to heritage and discipline shape your understanding of beauty and storytelling?
I was born and raised in Yamashina Ward, Kyoto—an industrial area where traditional Kyo-yaki and Kiyomizu-yaki studios, wholesalers, and ceramic artists have long been concentrated. The studio where my father worked was also located in this area. At the time, he was a decorative painter and served as the right-hand man to the head of the studio, playing a central role in its production.
My mother, also a decorative painter, chose a different path. Rather than belonging to a studio, she worked independently—what we would now call a freelancer. In what was then a strongly male-dominated world, she continued her practice as a female artisan despite considerable resistance. On my father’s side, our family lineage traces back generations of Buddhist painters in Kyoto, giving him deep roots as a craftsman. I was often told that his talent for drawing and making things emerged at an early age.
Growing up with such parents, my childhood home was filled with art—paintings, beautiful ceramic works, folk crafts from overseas that my father loved to collect, and even an upper-body sculpture of my mother that my father created himself. From an early age, I was surrounded by both complete and imperfect forms of beauty, and I am certain that my own sense of aesthetics has been profoundly shaped by my parents.
My parents’ work was deeply tied to the creation and continuation of Kyoto’s long-standing traditional crafts. Much of their work involved tea ceremony utensils, and they painted seasonal plants and auspicious motifs again and again. To preserve inherited techniques and the discipline of specific schools and styles, countless artisans continued their work day after day—through heat and cold alike. In the atelier located in the basement of our home, production often continued late into the night. Watching this as a child, I came to understand firsthand the physical and emotional rigor of craftsmanship.
In Japanese art history, the Kano school—active from the Muromachi through Edo periods—is indispensable. While innate talent may have played a role, what truly sustained the school was the continuous transmission of skills from parents to children, from masters to disciples, over hundreds of years through discipline and devotion. Japanese art as we know it exists because of this relentless effort.
To me, cultural inheritance is not something fleeting that relies on individual talent alone. It is the result of countless generations of effort—effort that we receive as technique, refine through our own dedication, and gently infuse with the sensibility of our own time before passing it on. I believe storytelling means approaching this history with deep respect, holding space for those unseen efforts, and giving voice to them with care and imagination.
Your career spans between Japan and New York, craftsmanship and global branding. How did working with international fashion and lifestyle brands refine your perspective on cultural communication?
The New York–based fashion brand where I worked, M.M. LaFleur, positioned itself as a brand for women with a clear mission: to support women’s advancement in the workplace. It was not a conventional fashion brand. Rather, it approached fashion as a platform for addressing social issues, using its voice to propose new perspectives and possibilities. That philosophy left a profound impression on me.
What struck me most was their commitment to transforming the cultural context behind those social challenges. At the core of the brand was a sincere and uncompromising belief in making the world better for what comes next. I feel that my time in New York significantly sharpened my understanding of this perspective.
Working at the center of global business, I became acutely aware of the speed at which information moves, the regional differences in how trends are perceived and consumed, and—perhaps most importantly—the fact that customers already know very well what they truly need. In communicating something meaningful, there is no need to over-simplify the message for the world, nor to dilute it with unnecessary embellishment.
What matters most is conveying authentic value, as it is, to communities that can genuinely relate to it—and serving as a bridge between that value and the people it is meant to reach. Realizing the importance of this role was, for me, the greatest takeaway from my experience in New York.
What ultimately inspired you to return to Kyoto and focus your work on hospitality, culture, and place-based storytelling?
After graduating from university, I worked in Tokyo and later moved to New York. At that time, I believed I would eventually return to living abroad, and I thought of Kyoto as only a temporary chapter in my life.
However, after coming back, I encountered many opportunities to engage deeply with Kyoto’s culture, and seeing it again from a new perspective felt incredibly refreshing. Reflecting on my childhood memories and professional experiences, I realized that there were things I could only do here. This realization led me to start my own company in my hometown of Kyoto.
Kyoto is often perceived through a romanticized lens. How do you balance authenticity with global visibility when shaping narratives for luxury hotels and cultural institutions?
At a fundamental level, I believe that what is truly authentic transcends language and culture, and can be felt by people anywhere in the world—whether it originates in Kyoto or elsewhere. The key is to communicate that authenticity without exaggeration. What matters most is connecting it to the shared values, histories, and cultural contexts of the communities it is meant to reach.
I design communication with the intention of creating an open and accessible point of entry—one that invites curiosity and allows people to engage naturally, without barriers.
Your work spans hotels, fine jewelry, temples, and nature-based art projects. What common thread connects these seemingly different worlds?
Culture, art, and enduring beauty shaped by place.
How do you define “luxury” today—particularly in a city as historically rich and emotionally layered as Kyoto?
I believe that “luxury” in our time lies in a dialogue with nature and in the richness of quiet introspection. It is about gratefully receiving what nature and our surroundings offer us, and cherishing those gifts as they are.
Kyoto is home to countless historic buildings, shrines, and temples, embodying an undeniable depth of history. At the same time, it continues to sustain long-established businesses that have endured for over a thousand years. These include not only purveyors of precious traditional crafts, but also humble dried-goods shops and mochi makers—places that have supported everyday life across generations.
To me, luxury is not defined by dazzling worlds or expensive material possessions. It is something far more essential, simple, and restrained—what we in Japan call wabi-sabi. It is found in things and experiences that cannot be replaced.
You often work with projects rooted in tradition yet oriented toward the future. How can cultural heritage remain alive rather than static?
I believe it is about how we, as people living today, touch these traditions with our own hands, use with them, and integrate them into our everyday lives. What I can do is to increase the number of touchpoints with each project—to create as many points of connection as possible between tradition and ourselves.
It is through these connections that tradition can continue to shine as something living and relevant, something that belongs to us today. This is not something achieved easily or quickly; it requires time, patience, and persistence. Even so, it is what I continue to work toward with great care.
What role does emotional resonance play in successful storytelling for hospitality and travel brands?
In PR, the true source of both purchasing power and action lies in emotional resonance—how deeply something moves the heart. There are countless beautiful places and endless choices in the world, yet our time in life is limited. To be chosen within that precious time, storytelling becomes essential. Whether something resonates emotionally defines both the beginning and the end of meaningful communication.
Looking ahead, how do you see Kyoto evolving as a global destination, and what responsibility do communicators have in shaping that evolution thoughtfully?
Kyoto is, for better and for worse, a deeply insular place. A long-standing culture of limiting the influx of outside influences still remains, and it is precisely because of this restraint that so many traditions have been preserved. Today, Kyoto is widely regarded—both domestically and internationally—as a compelling destination sustained by tourism.
Within this context, it is essential to protect the value of Kyoto’s culture and inherent strengths while communicating them thoughtfully and appropriately—never through commodification or discounting. As a communicator and storyteller, I believe it is my responsibility to act with care and humility, serving as a respectful intermediary. Through the power of PR, I hope to contribute, in my own small way, to ensuring that what is truly valuable does not fade or disappear, but continues to be carried forward as part of Kyoto’s living history.
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