Interview: Honami Yano

First, could you tell us what got you interested in animation?

Honami Yano (hereafter Yano): I’ve loved animation since I was a child. The first time I saw animation as a film in a theater was when I took a boat from my island to see Hayao Miyazaki’s Princess Mononoke (1997).

We heard that you studied animation professionally at Kyoto Seika University (hereafter Seika).

Yano: I actually attended a general university before entering Seika. When I was considering art schools to study animation, I thought, “Maybe I don’t necessarily need to limit myself to Tokyo,” which ultimately led me to choose Seika.

At the time, I didn’t distinguish between “animation” as an art form and commercial “anime” as clearly as I do now. Until I decided to drop out of my previous university, I hadn’t even entertained the idea of “studying animation at a university.”

Back then, I think I subconsciously assumed that animation was something with a clear narrative, produced as a commercial commodity. Choosing Seika might have been driven by a sense of affinity for such commercial styles.

What kind of work did you create for your graduation project at Seika?

Yano: For my graduation project, I made a film called The Scab Pig (2015). Group projects were the mainstream in the Animation Department at Kyoto Seika University, but I chose to produce my work independently. Looking back, my graduation project period was a time when, while belonging to an institution like a university, I kept my distance from academic frameworks. I immersed myself in production alone in the personal space of my own room.

Having The Scab Pig brought up makes me remember things I haven’t thought about in years after rewatching it. Originally, I tried drawing it with charcoal on paper. But I must have been dissatisfied with it, because I threw away every single frame without leaving any behind. In the end, I switched to pencil. I was just desperate back then, constantly confronting my own failures—that’s how I remember those times.

Music was the only instance where I reached out to the outside world during production. Back then, there was someone who always played the piano near the cafeteria so beautifully. Gathering my courage, I asked, “Would you compose music for my animation?” That person was Kaho Nakamura, who is so active today. I owed a tremendous amount to her and SIMPO Studio.

After completing the film, I submitted it to the ASK? Film Festival, and I was thrilled when they picked it up. It was there that I saw Yoji Kuri for the first time, and my world expanded.

I feel that these initial steps lit the drive within me to deepen my expression in animation—a drive that connects directly to who I am today.

Are there any classmates, seniors, or juniors from those days who are active in the animation world today?

Yano: The people I remember most clearly are the members of the Life Drawing Club. It was a voluntary group where several of us gathered in a classroom after school to do croquis drawings. Among the members were Hiroyasu Ishida, known for directing Penguin Highway (2018) and Drifting Home (2022), and Keiichiro Saito, who directed Bocchi the Rock! (2022) and Frieren: Beyond Journey’s End (2023–24).

It was also there that I met Akiyoshi Ishii, who created the opportunity for me to direct the ending animation for TRIGUN STAMPEDE (2023). Not only Ishii-san, but also Shinya Tatewa, a junior of mine from Seika, participated in that project. Being listed in the same end credits ten years later made me truly happy.

Most of the people who leave deep memories belonged to Professor Hiroshi Ogawa’s independent seminar, engaging in activities distinct from official classes.

During your time at Seika, you took advantage of an exchange program to study at the Rhode Island School of Design (RISD).

Yano: At the time, many students around me were aiming for commercial styles, and I fully understood their appeal. On the other hand, in an animation history class, I was rendered speechless by Norman McLaren’s Begone Dull Care (1949). It was so breathtakingly beautiful that it felt like experiencing a pre-linguistic sensation or looking at a completely new world. I was beginning to feel a gap between my own direction and the university curriculum, so I applied for the exchange program wanting to know the outside world.

At RISD, I was in the FAV (Film / Animation / Video) department, experiencing museum practicums, drawing, and video production. As for animation, I took Gina Kamentsky’s animation class, and meeting Gina essentially defined my stance as an artist.

Gina was a truly free spirit who untangled my rigid ways of thinking. She would even sit cross-legged on her desk during class (laughs). Those were memorable days, but what I remember most vividly is that one of her favorite works was Hedgehog in the Fog (1975), and how she repeatedly told me, “Go crazy, Honami!” Even if making animation is hard work, Gina taught me the fundamental freedom of expression—that you make a work because you want to make it. In our final class, she sent us off saying, “Next time, let’s meet at a film festival!”

You mentioned Norman McLaren and Gina Kamentsky as influences, but are there other artists or works that influenced you?

Yano: I was greatly influenced, both technically and spiritually, by female filmmakers working out of the National Film Board of Canada (NFB), such as Caroline Leaf, Diane Obomsawin, and Wendy Tilby & Amanda Forbis. I’m constantly stimulated by the tactile, material-driven physical expressions underlying their works, as well as their perspectives on society and self, wielded with humor and sharpness.

I also love the paintings of Koji Nakazono, who passed away at a young age; I am drawn to his wild yet earnest brushwork. I also watch a lot of movies. Recently, I was deeply moved by July Jung’s A Girl at My Door (2014) and Next Sohee (2022), which I watch repeatedly.

After graduating from Seika, you entered the Department of Animation at the Graduate School of Film and New Media, Tokyo University of the Arts (Geidai), studying under Koji Yamamura.

Yano: Experiencing the depth of independent animation at RISD made me want to study it more professionally. When thinking about where to apply, Professor Yamamura’s lab immediately came to mind. His book, Welcome to the World of Animation (2006, Iwanami Junior Shinsho), had long served as a textbook for me, so I decided without hesitation to take the exam for Geidai. Another decisive factor was that during our final class at Seika, Professor Gisaburo Sugii showed us Yamamura-san’s Muybridge’s Strings (2011). Looking at the screen, I felt certain: “I want to study under this person.”

What kind of artists did you study alongside at Geidai?

Yano: Though we were in different years, I often talk with Shinobu Soejima and Sijia Luo. I belong to the 8th cohort, and among my classmates, I interacted most with Ryotaro Miyajima and Natsuki Mukai. Since I served as a research assistant after completing my master’s degree, I was able to engage with people across various generations, including seniors like Yutaro Kubo and Kim Hakyun. I also interacted with students from slightly later cohorts, such as Asaki Nishino and Maya Kobayashi—who also perform as the unit “Oh Hey Do”—as well as Haruka Hiramatsu and Çağıl Harmandar, who was my classmate in the doctoral program.

Currently, you are researching “Queer Expression  in Animation” in Geidai’s doctoral program, alongside hosting screenings of queer animation works. What drives your active involvement in activities outside production?

Yano: At first, I think it simply stemmed from a strong personal interest: “I want to see more works that I personally want to watch.” On the other hand, when I created Chromosome Sweetheart, which depicts an intimate relationship between women, there was a critical setting where that relationship wasn’t taken seriously and was instead treated as a joke.

Regardless of whether it’s my own work, seeing someone’s deeply cherished expression—or simply being queer—dismissed as something outside existing frameworks felt wrong. That experience made me wonder if many queer animation works, past and present, were being overlooked. I felt the need to screen hard-to-access queer animation films, create a space for discussion, and carefully contextualize them.

As I continued researching and sharing information about queer animation, I came to realize that animation doesn’t merely deal with queer content—queerness resides in the very essence of its expressive form. The free metamorphosis and flexibility inherent in animation carry the constant potential to disrupt fixed bodies, genders, and boundaries. Wanting to theoretically examine those latent queer possibilities in animation serves as a driving force for my research, parallel to my film production.

Of course, I don’t make films as if proving a theory. However, gaining new knowledge through research and verbalizing my thoughts or hypotheses gives me the sense of acquiring new expressive tools. Thus, the results of my research—though perhaps indirect—feed directly into my creative work.

Furthermore, contacting artists and exchanging information through screening activities supports both my research and production. Meeting artists at film festivals whom I had only ever emailed, and looking forward to their new releases, brings immense joy.

Even if people are far away and I only know them from a distance, I feel as if I am walking alongside the queer artists and works I’ve encountered along the way.

Your research and screening activities offer audiences new ways of viewing animation, which proves how sincerely you engage with viewers. On the other hand, in independent filmmaking, one is free to create without considering the audience at all. How conscious are you of the audience when making a film?

Yano: I think my mindset is split right down the middle, 50-50. The starting point is undeniably a dialogue with my inner self—confronting deeply personal questions. Yet, at the same time, I have a strong desire to deliver something to the viewer.

I once read an interview with gallerist Tomio Koyama where he said, “What artists create are artwork; they only become commercial products at the very last moment,” and that idea resonated deeply with me.

When starting a project, the sense of facing oneself is strong; in my mind, the artwork comes first. It is my hope that after digging into and refining the piece, once it finally leaves my hands, an audience will be waiting on the other side.

For me, I can only view a work objectively once it’s projected on a screen beyond my reach—which sometimes makes me blush in hindsight. That’s how I maintain the balance.

Looking back on your career, A Bite of Bone (2021) seems to have been a major turning point. Winning the Grand Prize for Short Animation at the Ottawa International Animation Festival and receiving high acclaim worldwide, it elevated your position as an international artist.

Yano: A Bite of Bone was my first film after leaving student life, and I was simply astonished by the response. I am deeply grateful to producer Koji Yamamura and assistant producer sanae, who supported the production. The contributions of Masumi Takino for sound design and Ayamo Tano for voice acting were also indispensable in deepening the film’s world. Being recognized at various festivals not only fueled my subsequent work, but above all, paved a clear path for me to continue creating.

Finally, could you tell us about your current project in production?

Yano: My current project, Eri, is based on Kasumi Asakura’s novel Hoki ni Dare ga Iru (Who Else Is There?, 2008, Gentosha Bunko). It is my first time working with an adaptation.

I’ve reread Hoki ni Dare ga Iru at least once a year for the past decade. It’s a story close to my heart. At first, I never thought of adapting it myself, but while considering my next project, I felt that now might be the right time to confront this story, so I reached out to Asakura-sensei.

The novel features a high school girl as the protagonist and addresses complexes surrounding skin tone. Expanding on that idea, I wondered if I could adapt the novel’s world into animation by placing a dairy cow with black-and-white skin as the main character.

For research, I visited dairy farms, where naturally almost all the cows were female. Unless they become pregnant, they don’t produce milk, and without milk, they cannot remain in that place. Within an inescapable environment dictated by survival, I wanted to portray “a dairy cow falling in love with another dairy cow.”

I became certain that cows living in mountainous areas should be the protagonists when I visited Kaoruno Farm in Kanagawa Prefecture and Nakahora Farm in Iwate Prefecture. Spending time with the cows in the majestic mountains under stars that felt close enough to touch, I thought of “Eri” living there and meditated on this story.

Though replacing the characters with cows was a bold adaptation, Asakura-sensei warmly gave her consent, which made me extremely happy. At the same time, it straightened my posture, knowing I could never show her anything half-hearted.

Eri is an international co-production with France’s MIYU Productions (hereafter MIYU). How was working across borders?

Yano: My connection with MIYU began at the New Chitose Airport International Animation Festival. Emmanuel-Alain Raynal, who served as producer for Eri, was acting as a pitch Jury there, and I submitted my project because I desperately wanted him to see the proposal. That became the stepping stone for launching our co-production.

As the final shape of the film began to emerge, Emmanuel-san offered his perspective on it from an international point of view, which gave me a sense that the film might connect with a broader audience. As the final shape of the film began to emerge, Emmanuel-san offered his perspective on it from an international point of view, which gave me a sense that the film might connect with a broader audience. Regarding festival submissions, Luce Grosjean, who leads MIYU’s distribution department, respects the director’s intentions, which gives me great peace of mind.

Furthermore, thanks to funding secured by MIYU and support from the Agency for Cultural Affairs’ Media Arts Creator Development Support Program, we were able to invite composer Judith Gruber-Stitzer to handle the music.
She is the person behind the soundscapes of works by Diane, Wendy & Amanda, and others who have heavily influenced me since my student days. Watching my own work overlap with a sound world I’ve long admired brought an indescribable joy.

We recently completed the final sound process and are now doing the last polish toward completion. We’re in the home stretch of production, and I’m thoroughly enjoying the work while savoring the joy of drawing.

 (Editor’s note: This interview was recorded before the completion of “Eri”. Subsequently, “Eri” held its world premiere in May of this year at the Directors’ Fortnight [Quinzaine des Cinéastes] of the 79th Cannes Film Festival.)