Who is Mika Otani?

Mika Otani is an ikebana artist whose study of the art began at the Sogetsu school in 1990 and now has over 35 years of experience in the field. Originally working in editing and styling for a women’s magazine, she became a full-time, independent ikebana artist in 2011. Since then, she has supervised various ikebana works and created floral installations for numerous TV dramas, Netflix and Amazon Prime films, and commercials. She also designs ikebana installations for events and photoshoots, and performs live ikebana art. We spoke with Otani about her pursuit of innovative artistic expression in the globally engaged world of Sogetsu ikebana, and the intentions behind her work as an ikebana master.

Please tell us about ikebana as a Japanese cultural tradition, and about the Sogetsu school in particular.

Currently, there are over 200 distinct schools (ryuha) in the world of ikebana. With a history spanning more than 500 years, many schools have emerged over time. The Sogetsu school will celebrate its 100th anniversary in 2027. Its founding philosophy stands in marked contrast to many traditional schools. Most traditional schools place utmost value on preserving longstanding arrangement patterns, passed down through generations. By contrast, the Sogetsu school's founder Sofu Teshigahara believed that ikebana is art, and not simply the preservation of old solidified traditions. As such, Sogetsu does not conform to some of the fixed arrangement patterns found in other schools. We are able to freely capture the spirit of the times and global atmosphere. With the motto “anyone, anywhere, for anyone,” we embrace creativity and value the individuality of the arranger. Sofu was once called the “Picasso of Flowers” by Time magazine for his arrangements so avant‑garde and unrestrained that he caused a stir in the ikebana world. That spirit of free creation is the Sogetsu school’s strength and why it has become and remains widely embraced.
For example, in India one might arrange palm leaves whereas in South Africa, cacti. You arrange with local flora. This means that foreign students who study Sogetsu in Japan don’t need to rely on traditional Japanese materials once they return home. That freedom to work with native vegetation is the beauty of Sogetsu. Today there are about 120 branches globally, and many people around the world are learning Sogetsu ikebana.

What inspired you to start learning ikebana?

This goes back nearly 40 years to my university days studying abroad in England. People often asked me about Japan, which for them seemed like a distant, mysterious land. To me, Japan was simply my home, so I hadn’t considered it exotic, but I felt, with profound clarity, how deeply foreign people are drawn to Japanese culture. I remembered how much I enjoyed ikebana in school club during elementary and middle school and felt the urge to pursue it more deeply.
Knowing ikebana opened many doors in interacting with people abroad. Once, I visited a friend in Australia whose garden had no flowers in bloom, and she said there was nothing for me to arrange. But stepping into her garden, I found branches and leaves. Borrowing a cup or vase, I arranged using only what was there. She was astonished. She said, “There’s no such culture in Australia.” In the West, flowers are always the main focus in arrangements; without them, no piece is considered complete.
In Japanese ikebana, branches and leaves share equal aesthetic significance. Because three-quarters of Japan is mountainous, with abundant woodland, we’ve long expressed beauty using branches and foliage. Thus, we can create ikebana without blossoms. I believe that when Westerners see such works, they are deeply surprised and delighted.

Are there aesthetic or spiritual differences between Japanese ikebana and Western floral design?

Yes, there are. In ikebana, we often use driftwood or dead flowers, which we call kare‑mono. We appreciate the roots of trees and life’s process from seed, sprout, green leaf, bloom to withering is all inherently beautiful, like a compressed version of human life. Seeing beauty only in blossoms is like insisting only your twenties are beautiful.
I often use driftwood in my works. Its shape comes not from human hands but from nature, from fallen trees carried by water, shaped over time into extraordinary forms. That singular beauty, formed by nature’s long history, is deeply compelling to me.
Japanese art in general, such as painting and architecture, values ma, the beauty of space. While in the West space is often viewed as emptiness, we intentionally shape it. Western floral design typically seeks to fill a space; ikebana asks: what kind of space, when left, feels beautiful? Tension and balance in space are taught from the beginning in Sogetsu practice. In ikebana, ma itself is beauty.

How the 2011 Great East Japan Earthquake Inspired a Lifelong Dedication to Ikebana

You began studying ikebana at age 20 after returning from abroad. You built a steady early career, then made a major shift. What prompted you to pursue ikebana full‑time?

It was the 2011 Great East Japan Earthquake. Though I lived in Tokyo, the devastation in Tohoku struck me deeply, especially the many children who lost their lives. I felt survivor’s guilt. I realized that those of us who remain must use our days for something meaningful. If I don’t pursue what I truly want now, I may never have the chance.
I had always thought about opening a school but hadn’t fully committed. I kept wondering whether or not it was a stable profession. After the earthquake, I resolved myself to “Doing what I truly want; right now.”
My first class had only five students, but I was so grateful they came. Since then, it’s grown so much, but I never forget the gratitude I felt in that first moment. I vowed to myself even then: “I want to share ikebana with as many people as possible.”
Now I receive many art-based commissions, and though my schedule is tight, I remain grounded in that beginner’s spirit, and I intend to teach for life.

What does your work as an artist look like?

Recently, one especially memorable project was with Perrier‑Jouët, a French champagne house well-known for supporting the arts, particularly floral art. Each year, they commission just one artist, and last year they invited me.
The exhibit spanned two floors: on the first floor was a vast installation—5 m wide, 15 m deep—filled floor to ceiling with floral forms. Over 5,000 flowers were used, arranged within trees made from wood salvaged from slated-for-disposal tree cuts, tinted in Perrier‑Jouët’s soft pink and white. The result was a forest-like immersive world that guests could step into while enjoying champagne.
On the second floor, another floral artwork used 500 stems of unsold flowers (those too small or misshapen to sell). Upon entering, guests each selected one stem and arranged it themselves as they circled the space. The act of people arranging flowers became interactive art.

That expands ikebana far beyond common assumptions.

Indeed. Most recently, in May this year, I created a massive piece in Hangzhou, China: a 25 m × 25 m pool, filled with about 10 cm of water, in which I danced and arranged flowers with dancers, turning ikebana into a performative spectacle. It’s published on YouTube so please do take a look.

Is there a difference in how ikebana is received in Asia, Europe, the U.S., and Japan?

Yes. In Japan, ikebana is known, but often only superficially. People think of serene Zen-like poses in a tokonoma alcove. Sogetsu ikebana breaks that image, it’s modern ikebana: free and expressive. I want to share that sense of freedom.
Abroad, there are no preconceived notions. People discover my work online, and once they recognize and accept me as an artist, they let me express freely.
I’m always driven to challenge myself both in Japan and overseas. The final theme of the Sogetsu school textbook is “What ikebana can do now.” At all times I ask myself: What can I do now? What is there that only I can do? The tradition is not to be preserved as-is but to be innovated, so it doesn’t end. In an AI-driven era, I ponder: what is the enduring appeal of ikebana?

When working, do you often engage with tourists visiting Japan?

Yes, we offer ikebana experiences through local courses, led by my disciples. I have strong English skills, so from the beginning I welcomed overseas students. I also took part in the launch party for Airbnb Experience in L.A., representing Japan.
We deeply value teaching ikebana to foreign residents in Japan, and many return home to establish ikebana schools in their countries, spreading the art further. Seeing their classes shared on social media brings me great joy.

Lastly, what would you like to say to overseas readers and inbound tourism organizers?

We’re thrilled that visitors choose to learn about Japanese culture and ikebana in particular. Our experience courses are not superficial they offer serious technical instruction.
A “fun, quick experience” is easy to teach and can involve placing two blooms in a kenzan (a tool used in ikebana to secure stems), but this is ikebana in name only. We, however, offer the real thing: lessons based on the Sogetsu textbook, teaching fundamental arrangement patterns from the start, using form diagrams to help you learn and understand. It all takes place in my Omotesando atelier where you can get a peek into a working space.
More than 300 visitors of all ages and nationalities have taken part. From elementary school children who love flowers, to elderly couples who say it’s their long‑cherished dream. Past students working as professional florists, architects, designers, and across other art fields frequently book classes months in advance. Group lessons are limited to six people, so each student can work at their own pace. Private lessons are also available.
If you visit Japan, I’d love for you to experience ikebana!