Kengo Kuma hates concrete. The Japanese architect, whose practice revolves around manipulating materials to make his work disappear into its surroundings, has tried everything to avoid using it: building a shiny, corrugated Steel House in central Tokyo, museums made entirely of stone or Japanese paper, and an office building façade, constructed from wooden strips, that appears almost transparent depending on the angle of view. Which is why Kuma’s latest project, a modest experiment created at the behest of renowned designer and curator Kenya Hara, seems truly monumental: a block of light-penetrable concrete, made by casting the stuff around a network of cutting-edge plastic optical fibers. “If light can pass through concrete, then the shadows of people pass-ing by and images can easily penetrate a sealed space,” says Hara. “This is a material that shakes the reality and meaning of space.”

Kuma’s game-changing invention is one of a dozen commissioned for “Tokyo Fiber ’09: Senseware,” a touring exhibition that debuted during the Salone del Mobile in Milan in April. As the show’s curator, Hara asked 16 designers to develop futuristic product concepts in partnership with some of Japan’s most technologically advanced synthetic textile manufacturers—companies, such as Teijin and Mitsubishi Rayon, who make everything from next-generation thermoplastics to super-absorbent nanofiber fabrics. 

The point, says Hara, is to propel innovation in both the design and textile industries forward by means of co-evolution, a biology term that observes how the needs and characteristics of two enti-ties can influence one another’s development—the way the location of nectar on a flower has come to determine the shape of a honey-bee’s mouth, for instance. “There are many appealing fiber products out there, but useful purposes for them haven’t been discovered yet,” Hara explains. “So the issue is to accelerate co-evolution to find these new applications.” In other words, if Panasonic’s design team is introduced to Teijin and the two work together on a concept for a small, extremely energy-efficient robot that cleans spills using Teijin’s polyester nanofiber, Teijin gains useful feedback and practical exposure to the market, while Panasonic gains a resource for future product development. (The most obvious successes to come from the inaugural 2007 Tokyo Fiber exhibition were in the fashion world: Louis Vuitton and Chanel sent synthetic “super organza” dresses down the catwalks after spotting the ultra-lightweight fabric in the show.)

“The culture of fabric in Japan is very different from the one in Eu-rope or America,” affirms French-born, Tokyo-based designer and architect Nicolas Gwenael, principal of the firm Curiosity. He’s known for his experimental light projects—at last year’s Milan Furniture Fair he presented a much-talked-about installation of illuminated balls hovering on vertical air jets—and his contribution to “Senseware” is a whimsical bench woven from the same ultra-flexible plastic optical fiber Kuma used in his concrete. The bench grows more or less luminous as users approach or walk by. “I was very concerned about the high-tech feeling of the material itself, concerned it could end up being a very cold and dry design,” he says. “I proposed an organic pattern for the bench that would guide the light but also have a hand-made feeling. This was the challenge, to connect the two pillars of Japanese culture: the most advanced technology and the highly sensitive craftsmanship that will create an emotional connection with the user.”

The experimental Tokyo fashion collective Mintdesigns also sought to evoke emotion with their project, albeit in a more provocative way. Commenting on the medical masks many Japanese city-dwellers don to avoid urban toxins—“wearing them often makes you feel down,” laments group spokes-person Naoko Jansen—Mintdesigns chose to present a more playful alternative. With manufacturer Asahi Kasei’s Smash, a highly thermoplastic non-woven fabric that’s lightweight and extremely durable, the designers used a hot press to mold new masks in the shape of chimpanzee mouths and a human form Jansen describes as “perfect beauty.” He says that in fashion, while the first priority is to make fun, comfortable clothing, finding new materials can benefit the design process if they improve the end-user’s experience of the garments. The problem is that “while Japanese high-tech materials are definitely innovative, once they’re used to make products, you typically see very boring designs,” he says, echoing Hara’s sentiment.

For that reason, Hara selected designers for the show with especially strong points of view. But the ultimate goal was to inspire eventual market applications for the featured textiles, and some of the projects, like Ban’s carbon fiber chair and the Panasonic wip-ing robot, seem imminently commercial in and of themselves. Ross Lovegrove, who’s no stranger to working at the vanguard of design technology, envisioned a feather-light backpack crafted from Sakase Adtech’s Triaxial Woven fabric, which is made using two warps and one weft to disperse weight in three directions instead of two. Nendo, the Tokyo studio of rising design star Oki Sato, used Smash to construct a forest of lovably awkward mushroom-shaped lamps. Inspired by traditional Japanese paper lanterns, Sato’s team applied heat to the fabric until they were able to shape it—using pressurized air in a method similar to glass-blowing—into seamless, frameless translucent lights.

Monica Khemsurov is a freelance design writer, curator and consultant in New York City.  Most recently she spent three and a half years as senior editor at I.D. magazine, where she covered design trends and traveled the world scouting the best emerging talent.  She regularly covers design for The New York Times' T Style magazine and Details.