Finding Ma: The Art of Space in Japan (and Why You Need It Too)

I recently returned from a trip to Japan, where I was immersed in a culture that thrives on contrasts. One moment, I was standing in a blaring arcade, surrounded by flashing neon, pulsating J-pop, and the frantic tapping of gamers lost in a rhythm game where players tap on a circular screen to the beat of a song. The next, I was wandering through a minimalist street, where design was stripped down to its essence—clean lines, muted tones, and a sense of calm that felt almost radical compared to the sensory overload of the arcade. 

And somewhere in between (quite literally), I discovered Ma.

Rooted in traditional Japanese aesthetics and philosophy, Ma (間) has origins in Shinto and Zen Buddhism, emphasizing harmony between presence and absence. The kanji character itself visually represents sunlight filtering through a gate, symbolizing the intentional interplay between space and structure. Ma is more than just a pause or a gap—it’s an intentional emptiness, a breath, a moment of silence that allows what’s around it to shine. It’s the negative space in art, the pause in music, the quiet beat in conversation that makes words more powerful. It exists in architecture, design, fashion, film—even in the way people move through the world.

Japan’s approach to design embraces Ma in ways that feel almost instinctual. 

Walking through the streets, I noticed how fashion often embraced simplicity. While Tokyo’s energy is electric, its streetwear often leaned into restraint—monochrome palettes, structured silhouettes, and an appreciation for the quiet details that say more with less. 

In architecture, Ma is found in the balance between form and emptiness. Traditional Japanese homes and temples use sliding doors and open courtyards to create a fluidity between spaces, making room for light, air, and thought. 

Even in film, Ma plays a role. At Ghibli Park, a physical representation of many of the 24 films produced by Studio Ghibli, I realized how much Ma shapes the storytelling of Hayao Miyazaki’s films. Think of the long, silent shots in My Neighbor Totoro, where characters simply exist in nature, letting the moment breathe. The pauses in Spirited Away that allow us to absorb the wonder (or eeriness) of a scene. These quiet spaces make the magic feel real, the emotions deeper.

In a world that constantly demands more—more content, more noise, more stimulation—it’s easy to forget the power of less. But Ma isn’t just a Japanese concept; it’s something we can all embrace in our work and lives.

• In design, try removing an element instead of adding one. See what happens when you let the eye rest.
• In conversation or in your virtual meetings, embrace a pause. Silence often says more than words.
• In your schedule, don’t just pack it to the brim. Make room for breathing space, for spontaneity.
• In your creativity, allow space for ideas to settle instead of forcing the next thing.

As Antoine de Saint-Exupéry famously said, “A designer knows he has achieved perfection not when there is nothing left to add, but when there is nothing left to take away.”

So here’s my challenge to you: take a look at something you’re working on—a design, a project, your living space—and remove one thing. Just one. Then let Ma do its work.

Because sometimes, the most powerful thing you can add is a little more space.