At work with
Kosuke Ide, Subsequence
Japanese magazine Subsequence has developed an enthusiastic local readership since we first stocked it in 2020. As issue eight, it’s last one for now, appears in shops we meet founder/editor Kosuke Ide.
Subsequence’s expansive, matt pages feel like an oversized notebook, recording things that, Kosuke tells us, ‘we personally find deeply important, but that many people tend to overlook.’
As well as publishing Subsequence, Kosuke is a senior editor for Popeye Web and also contributes to the craft magazine Seika, while maintaining long-term collaborations with fashion brands such as visvim and Issey Miyake. He’s also planning a book showcasing his collection of vintage Japanese magazines.
What are you doing this Monday morning?
Not only on Mondays, but in general I wake up around 8am, make coffee, and have a light breakfast such as yogurt and fruit. After that, I go for a walk for about thirty minutes. That said, I tend to go for walks whenever the mood strikes me—during the day or at night, even in the rain—so it’s not a habit limited to the morning. My walking route depends on how I feel that day, but I often stop by the library.
Not only on Mondays, but in general I wake up around 8am, make coffee, and have a light breakfast such as yogurt and fruit. After that, I go for a walk for about thirty minutes. That said, I tend to go for walks whenever the mood strikes me—during the day or at night, even in the rain—so it’s not a habit limited to the morning. My walking route depends on how I feel that day, but I often stop by the library.
Describe your work environment
From the window of my workspace, I can see a small garden that I tend myself, along with four plum trees growing there. They began to bloom just a few days ago and are incredibly beautiful. After the blossoms fall, the trees turn green and bear fruit. Every spring, I harvest the plums and make plum syrup, umeboshi, and jam by hand.
My workspace is located near my home, and I usually work alone. About twice a week, however, staff members from Subsequence—such as the art director and producer—come by. We have tea and snacks, chat casually, and hold what feels more like informal conversations than meetings, slowly and carefully shaping the magazine together.
Which magazine do you first remember?
Between the ages of around 10 and 12 (in the mid-1980s), I avidly read Animage, above, a magazine devoted to animation. At the time, one of its editorial staff members was Toshio Suzuki, who would later become a key producer at Studio Ghibli and a close collaborator of director Hayao Miyazaki.
Rather than focusing solely on stories or characters, the magazine highlighted the work of production staff such as animation directors, teaching me the importance of the people behind the scenes who make great works possible. It introduced me to the pleasure of thinking critically and sparked my admiration for the closed, professional worlds that exist beyond what is visible on the surface. In that sense, it feels like an origin point for who I am today.
Aside from yours, what’s your favourite magazine?
I am a collector of magazines (mainly Japanese ones) and own well over 1,500 issues, so it is very difficult to choose just one. That said, magazines from the 1970s and 1980s—when Japan had reached a peak of economic and cultural maturity—are especially fascinating to read.
One magazine that immediately comes to mind is Hato yo! (O pigeon!), above, a magazine about poetry and copywriting launched by Magazine House in 1984. For its first year, the art director was Ryoko Ishioka (the younger sister of the world-renowned costume designer Eiko Ishioka), and the editorial design is truly outstanding. Using highly elaborate visuals, it broke completely away from the conventional image of a “literary magazine,” resulting in something remarkably original. You can feel the intensity and passion of the photographers, illustrators, and all the creators involved—an energy that characterized magazine culture at the time.
Among international magazines, I especially love the early issues of Colors when it was edited by Tibor Kalman, Leonard Koren’s WET, above,and the legendary magazine ECHO (Hansheng), below, which documented Chinese folk culture.
What other piece of media would you recommend?
I’m drawn to very personal, intimate atmospheres, so I enjoy podcasts. I’m particularly fond of the Popeye Web podcast, which I’m involved with as a senior editor. It feels like secretly listening in on a small group of friends chatting in the corner of a classroom, and I really like that sense of closeness.
Describe Subsequence in three words
Serendipity / Passion / Personal history
Serendipity / Passion / Personal history
In your editor’s note you talk about making a magazine being like ‘jotting down an idea so you won’t forget.’ Can you expand on that please?
When making a magazine, what I always think about is wanting to record things that we personally find deeply important, but that many people tend to overlook. If someone else has already documented them thoroughly, then there’s no need for us to do so.
For example, the work, ideas, and lives of famous figures are already well documented by many media outlets. But among the people, objects, and places we love, there are still countless things that no one has recorded yet. By carefully collecting these small, unknown stories and preserving them as articles, we hope to pass them on—quietly—into the future. I believe that the magazine format is particularly well suited to this purpose.
For example, the work, ideas, and lives of famous figures are already well documented by many media outlets. But among the people, objects, and places we love, there are still countless things that no one has recorded yet. By carefully collecting these small, unknown stories and preserving them as articles, we hope to pass them on—quietly—into the future. I believe that the magazine format is particularly well suited to this purpose.
Subsequence is bilingual; how accurately do the two languages match each other on the page?
I leave the translations entirely to Sam Bett, who oversees our translation desk. As a result, I don’t have a detailed sense of how English-language readers perceive the nuances. Because this is human work rather than AI-generated, the translator’s personality inevitably comes through, leading to certain inconsistencies—and sometimes even misunderstandings. But that’s fine, isn’t it? (Laughs.) Magazines exist to be enjoyed. Sam is a trusted friend, and I would be happy if readers could engage with the text as it passes through his filter.
I leave the translations entirely to Sam Bett, who oversees our translation desk. As a result, I don’t have a detailed sense of how English-language readers perceive the nuances. Because this is human work rather than AI-generated, the translator’s personality inevitably comes through, leading to certain inconsistencies—and sometimes even misunderstandings. But that’s fine, isn’t it? (Laughs.) Magazines exist to be enjoyed. Sam is a trusted friend, and I would be happy if readers could engage with the text as it passes through his filter.
You say that Subsequence began without a target reader. After eight issues, have you established who your readers are?
Yes we have, as I’ve had the chance to meet many of them in person. Every one of them was highly individual—people with genuine curiosity and passion, who want to choose things for themselves rather than follow trends. That said, there’s still no single phrase that can neatly categorize them. In fact, that’s exactly the kind of magazine I wanted to make, so it made me very happy.
You announced that issue eight of Subsequence will be the final one, and have described the magazine as an experiment. Does this mean the experiment has failed?
The main reason is a change in the production environment, especially the economic situation. Around the time the impact of Covid-19 began to subside, global inflation accelerated and the Japanese yen depreciated significantly. As a result, costs for reporting, contributor fees, printing, paper, and shipping all rose sharply, making the business model we had envisioned at launch no longer viable.
An “experiment” inevitably involves both successes and failures, and in that sense, it was a success because we learned a great deal. We are now considering new forms and hope to start again in a different way.
An “experiment” inevitably involves both successes and failures, and in that sense, it was a success because we learned a great deal. We are now considering new forms and hope to start again in a different way.
Highlight one story that sums up how your magazine works.
I have chosen a feature from issue two that focuses on the late American ceramic artist Warren MacKenzie. MacKenzie studied under the British potter Bernard Leach, who was involved in the folk art movement known as Mingei that emerged in Japan in the 1920s and 1930s. When he moved to Minnesota, MacKenzie continued to create ceramic works inspired by the Japanese Mingei tradition until his death at the age of 94.
Although ceramic culture is far more popular in Japan than in the United States, MacKenzie remains largely unknown in Japan. We traveled to Minnesota to trace his footsteps and discovered that an intimate community of ceramic artists—one that he had built during his lifetime—still exists there today. We were deeply moved by the fact that the spirit of Mingei, born in Japan, traveled through the United Kingdom to the United States and continues to live on. We believe that Subsequence Magazine should illuminate these remarkable, yet largely untold, histories of human and cultural cross-pollination.
What has publishing issue one taught you that may be helpful to anybody else planning to make their own magazine?
That you only get one chance to make a first issue!
What are you most looking forward to this coming week?
Every Sunday, I help friends who keep bees in the garden of a church near my home. This week, we’re planning to repaint the beehives together, which I’m really looking forward to.
Photographs throughout by Mai Kise