Okinawa: the Circle, the Sea, the Gesture

Valentina, let’s start with the name: why Okinawa?

Okinawa is a word that immediately evokes the sea, the wind, the southern islands of Japan for many people. But for us at La Corallina, it represents above all a sense of balance.

There is something in Japanese visual culture — especially that connected to islands and craftsmanship — that manages to be both minimal and incredibly rich at the same time. Apparently simple, yet full of layers.

With this collection, we wanted to evoke exactly that: a lightness that is not superficial. The colors of water, oxidized blues, imperfect geometries, textures that seem born from ceramics or hand-printed paper.

Looking at these placemats, one almost has the impression of observing fragments of porcelain or artist prints.

Yes, because Japanese graphic culture has always had a very particular relationship with surfaces.

In the West, decoration often means adding something; in Japanese tradition, instead, the sign enters into dialogue with emptiness. It is a more breathable form of composition.

I think of ukiyo-e prints, but also textiles, calligraphy, fans, raku ceramics: everything emerges from a balance between rhythm and silence.

Even the circular shape of the placemat becomes important. It is not just a practical form. It is almost a small stage. A microcosm.

In fact, the circular format seems to enhance this type of graphic language.

Absolutely. The circle forces you to think differently.

You cannot build a composition the same way you would on a rectangular surface. You have to imagine a movement that is more fluid, more organic.

And I believe that Japanese sensibility works particularly well on placemats because it is rooted in an aesthetic culture deeply connected to the gesture of the table. Not the table as display, but the table as daily ritual.

In Japan, even the way an object is placed, served, or oriented carries a meditative dimension.

Today, however, Western homes seem increasingly minimalist — sometimes even impersonal. How does such a richly decorated collection fit into a contemporary interior?

In my opinion, precisely because homes are becoming more neutral, there is a growing need for objects with identity. I am not talking about loud or ostentatious objects, but objects capable of creating atmosphere.

These placemats work beautifully both in modern interiors and in more classical settings because they bring a narrative element into the home. They are not simple table accessories: they introduce an imaginary world.

And contemporary Japan has taught us something important: elegance and everyday life do not need to be separated.

There is also a very tactile quality in this collection, even though it is printed.

Yes, because we wanted to avoid an effect that felt too digital or too perfect. We are interested in surfaces that seem lived-in, touched by time, tactile.

After all, much of Japanese aesthetics revolves around the idea that beauty does not reside in absolute perfection, but in traces, variations, and impermanence.

Perhaps that is what makes these patterns feel so serene to look at. They do not try to impose themselves.

If you had to define this collection in three words?

“Silence. Sea. Balance.”