Hitoshi Morita

Hitoshi Morita | Built | 2024

Your works often balance geometry and fluidity. How do you decide when to keep order and when to introduce disruption?

Because I often work with 3D software, my starting point is usually order. Geometry, physics, and structure provide a clear framework to begin with. But during the process, I listen to the work itself. When it feels too controlled or distant, I sense the need to introduce irregularities. For me, this decision is intuitive rather than calculated. Sometimes the disruption appears in movement, but more often it comes through light or color. A subtle shift in brightness, a tone that breaks harmony, or a glow that feels unusual can add warmth and human presence. I find beauty in these small deviations, which make the work more alive and emotionally resonant.

Many of your pieces are loops. What attracts you to loops as a form of motion design, and what do you think they reveal about rhythm and perception?

While I often create loops in my personal practice, my professional work is not limited to them. Many commissioned projects involve sequences with beginnings, transitions, and endings. Still, I am deeply drawn to loops as a form. They carry a sense of continuity and infinity—you can watch them without needing to know where they start or end. For viewers, this creates a meditative quality, a rhythm that feels endless. For me as a creator, loops are also a useful format because they allow me to focus purely on the movement itself—the feeling of motion, its rhythm and texture—without the need for narrative progression. This combination of infinite viewing and concentrated exploration is what makes loops so compelling in my practice.

Hitoshi Morita | Facing The Curve | 2024

Could you describe the role of intuition versus technical planning in your creative process?

Intuition often comes first in my process. I might begin with a feeling, a mental image, or a rhythm I want to explore. But at the same time, I also find inspiration in technical aspects. Sometimes a new tool, a specific shader, or even the constraints of 3D software suggest directions I would not have imagined otherwise. For me, intuition and planning are not separate stages but parts of the same dialogue. Intuition provides energy and emotion, while technical structure gives clarity and form. Toward the end, I often return to intuition again—adjusting timing, light, or color until the work feels alive. In this way, intuition and technique constantly inform each other, each capable of sparking the other.

Hitoshi Morita | Motion | 2025

How do Cinema 4D and After Effects complement each other in your practice?

In my current series, Cinema 4D is where most of the motion and timing are resolved. It provides the structure, geometry, and rhythm of the work. After Effects, in this context, plays a different role. I rarely adjust timing there—instead, I treat it almost like a renderer. It is the place where I refine the look: adjusting color, contrast, and light, adding subtle layers of texture or distortion, and shaping the final atmosphere of the piece. Of course, there are projects where I use After Effects more actively for motion or compositing, but in this ongoing body of work, its main function is to give nuance to the visual surface. Together, Cinema 4D and After Effects complement each other as construction and refinement, foundation and finish.

Hitoshi Morita | Motionre | 2025

Your work is shared widely across design communities. How does audience feedback or visibility influence your evolution as an artist?

Sharing my work daily has created an ongoing dialogue with the design community. Audience feedback often gives me fresh perspectives—sometimes people notice qualities in a piece that I was not fully aware of myself. These responses do not determine what I make, but they remind me that the work can live in many different ways once it is out in the world. Visibility also brings connection. Because my work circulates online, I have been able to reach artists and studios around the world, leading to conversations and opportunities I would not have had otherwise. In this sense, feedback and visibility influence me less by shaping my decisions directly, and more by reinforcing the idea that motion design is part of a larger exchange. They encourage me to keep exploring, knowing the work continues to resonate beyond me.

Hitoshi Morita | Sloth | 2024

You often mention the relationship between geometry, light, and texture. Could you expand on how you explore this triad in your daily practice?

In my daily practice, I treat geometry, light, and texture as three elements that constantly interact. Geometry provides the foundation—the rhythm and order of forms. Texture adds tactility, grounding the image with imperfections that make it feel more human. Light, however, is the most playful element for me. I approach it almost like paint on a canvas. It is where I allow my whims and intuition to enter most freely. A slight shift in brightness or a color glow can completely change the mood, turning a strict structure into something warm or poetic. By experimenting with this triad every day, I explore not just how things move, but how form, surface, and illumination can come together to create an emotional presence.

Hitoshi Morita | Meeting At The Vertex | 2024

What do you find most challenging in maintaining both consistency and constant exploration in your work?

The challenge is that consistency and exploration can easily pull in opposite directions. If I focus too much on consistency, the work risks becoming repetitive. If I pursue exploration without limits, I can lose the thread that makes the work recognizable as mine. In my current series, I address this by using a loose format—a recurring diamond-shaped frame, placed at the top and bottom or sometimes only at the bottom. This framework gives the work a consistent identity, while leaving space inside it for experimentation. Within that boundary, I can test new rhythms, colors, and textures without losing coherence. Daily practice also helps: small experiments accumulate, and the balance between stability and change emerges naturally over time. The ongoing challenge is to keep the core alive while letting the surface evolve.