Islands of Renewal: How Art Transformed Japan's Inland Sea

The morning ferry from Takamatsu cuts through the Seto Inland Sea's glassy waters, revealing an archipelago that just fifteen years ago was fading into obscurity. Naoshima, once known primarily for its copper refinery and aging population, now draws art pilgrims from around the globe. Nearby, Teshima—a small farming island that lost two-thirds of its residents between 1950 and 2010—hosts one of the world's most sublime architectural achievements in the Teshima Art Museum. This transformation represents not just a remarkable artistic achievement but a pioneering model for rural revitalization through cultural innovation.

"When I first came to these islands in the 1980s, they were in serious decline," says Soichiro Fukutake, the visionary billionaire whose Benesse Corporation and Fukutake Foundation provided the initial impetus for the region's artistic rebirth. "I saw beautiful landscapes and communities with deep traditions, but younger generations were leaving for cities. I thought: could contemporary art help reverse this trend?" This question has since evolved into one of the most significant art-based revitalization initiatives ever attempted.

The Setouchi Triennale's origin story begins with Naoshima, where Fukutake collaborated with architect Tadao Ando in 1992 to create Benesse House, an integrated museum and hotel complex. Their approach was revolutionary: instead of imposing an art institution upon the landscape, they embedded it within the island's natural and cultural fabric. Works were commissioned specifically for the sites they would occupy, creating dialogues between contemporary art, traditional island life, and the surrounding Seto Inland Sea. This philosophy expanded to other islands through smaller initiatives before consolidating in 2010 as the first Setouchi Triennale under the artistic direction of Fram Kitagawa.

Kitagawa brought crucial experience from his work on the Echigo-Tsumari Art Triennial in mountainous Niigata Prefecture. "Both festivals confront similar challenges—aging populations, outmigration of youth, and economic decline," Kitagawa explains. "But Setouchi offered unique possibilities through its maritime culture and the intimate scale of island communities." His approach emphasized deep engagement between visiting artists and local residents, treating each island as a distinct cultural ecosystem rather than a uniform exhibition venue.

The results have been transformative. On Inujima, where the population had dwindled to fewer than 50 elderly residents, the conversion of an abandoned copper refinery into an art museum has brought new life and purpose. Megijima and Ogijima have seen vacant houses transformed into permanent art installations through the "Art House Project," with some formerly empty buildings now occupied by young artists and entrepreneurs who moved to the islands after visiting the festival. Teshima, once infamous for an illegal industrial waste scandal in the 1980s, has been reborn through projects like Christian Boltanski's "Les Archives du Cœur," which records and preserves visitors' heartbeats.

The economic impact has been equally significant. A region once facing terminal decline now hosts over 800,000 visitors during each Triennale year. Hotels in Takamatsu and nearby cities reach capacity, ferry companies add special routes, and restaurants and shops experience unprecedented activity. More importantly, dozens of new businesses have established permanent operations in response to growing year-round tourism, ranging from cafés and guesthouses to artist studios and craft workshops.

Yet the festival has not been without controversy and challenges. Some elderly residents initially viewed the influx of contemporary art with skepticism. "In the beginning, we wondered if these strange objects were really art," admits Yoshiko Kagawa, 83, who has lived on Ogijima her entire life. "But now we see how they bring people to our island and tell our stories." Others have questioned whether the economic benefits truly reach all community members, or if the artistic transformation risks becoming a form of cultural gentrification.

The festival has evolved to address these concerns through deeper community participation. Recent editions have emphasized local culinary traditions, craft practices, and performing arts alongside contemporary visual art. Volunteer programs enable residents to serve as guides and interpreters of their islands' histories. Educational initiatives bring students from nearby schools to engage with artists during installation periods.

Perhaps most significantly, the Setouchi model has inspired similar initiatives worldwide. From remote Scottish islands to Italian mountain villages, communities facing depopulation and economic challenges are looking to art-based revitalization strategies. Festival directors from four continents have visited the Setouchi region to study its approach, and Fukutake and Kitagawa regularly advise international cultural projects.

As the Triennale prepares for its sixth edition in 2025, the question becomes not whether art can transform declining rural communities—the islands of Setouchi have definitively proven it can—but how this transformation can evolve sustainably. Recent editions have emphasized environmental restoration projects, renewable energy initiatives, and digital connectivity to address broader challenges facing island communities.

Standing on Teshima's shore as sunset turns the Inland Sea to gold, one can see fishing boats returning to harbor alongside art tourists catching the day's last ferries. This coexistence of traditional life and contemporary cultural engagement represents the festival's greatest achievement: not merely creating a world-class art destination, but breathing new life into communities that were fading into history. In the quiet beauty of these islands, the Setouchi Triennale has offered a compelling answer to that initial question posed by Fukutake decades ago—yes, art can indeed reverse decline, but only when it grows from and remains rooted in the places and communities it serves.