Beyond Silk: Rethinking Human-Silkworm Relationships Through Design
Metamorphonic by Yuta Ikeya
Metamorphonic by Yuta Ikeya
Interspecies Design: Listening to Silkworms
In a quiet room, music resonates—not crafted by human hands, but shaped by the delicate movements of silkworms. For centuries, the domestic silk moth, Bombyx mori, has been nurtured exclusively for its precious silk, valued primarily for the fibres it provides. Traditionally, these silkworms spin their cocoons, only to be boiled before they can complete their metamorphosis.
But what if our bond with silkworms could evolve? What if, instead of merely taking from them, we could truly coexist?
The presence of silkworms is subtle, almost imperceptible. Unlike pets or larger creatures, they do not call out or express themselves in ways we instinctively understand. Connecting with a silkworm challenges us; they lack the familiar expressions and body language that elicit our instinctive care. Their world may seem silent to us—yet beneath the surface, there is more.
In the research project Metamorphonic by Yuta Ikeya, sound becomes a gateway to sensing their hidden presence, opening our hearts and minds to a new way of understanding coexistence.
Metamorphonic by Yuta Ikeya
Rethinking Our Relationship with Silkworms
For centuries, the human-silkworm relationship has been defined by extraction. The silk industry has shaped their evolution, domesticating them to the point where they can no longer survive in the wild. Their sole purpose, in human terms, has been to produce silk—a commodity of luxury, revered for its softness and strength.
But in Metamorphonic, the question is different:
What if our relationship with silkworms wasn’t about what they can give us, but about recognising them as living beings in their own right?
Instead of harvesting their fibres, designer Yuta Ikeya chose to harvest their movement, their subtle presence, their quiet way of existing. Over four months, he lived alongside the silkworms, designing three habitats that allowed the creatures to complete their life cycle uninterrupted. These habitats were not cages or farms but spaces of cohabitation—designed not for efficiency, but for experience. The project sought to explore the possibility of a more mutual, less transactional relationship between humans and the domestic silk moths.
And at the heart of this experiment was sound.
Metamorphonic by Yuta Ikeya
Hearing the Invisible, Sensing Non-Human Time
By translating the silkworms’ movements into ambient music, the designer creates a bridge between species. The silk moths, often overlooked as mere producers of a material, now shape an evolving soundscape—an audible imprint of their existence. The soft, shifting tones reveal their quiet rhythms, their wandering paths, their interactions with their surroundings. In doing so, the project offers a new way of experiencing an insect’s life, one that bypasses the barriers of human perception and fosters a different kind of connection.
But beyond movement, Metamorphonic also engages with time—one of the most fundamental differences between humans and non-humans. Silkworms experience life on a different scale, dictated by their own biological cycles rather than by human schedules. Their days are measured in slow feeding, steady moulting, the silent transformation from caterpillar to cocoon. Their world does not adhere to deadlines, appointments, or clocks; it moves at a pace that is at once ephemeral and ancient, dictated by instinct rather than urgency.
For Ikeya, this meant surrendering control. The project unfolded according to the silkworms’ rhythms, not human expectations. Sound became a way to translate this temporal disconnect—by listening to their movements, humans could attune to their time, a time that stretches and contracts in ways we rarely notice. It was no longer about imposing human order on nature, but about learning to recognise and exist within a non-human temporality.
We cannot see the world through the eyes of a silkworm, nor feel the world through its delicate touch. But sound—something fluid, immersive, and atmospheric—allows us to perceive them differently. It transforms the silkworms from passive subjects of an industry into active agents in a shared environment.
Instead of harvesting silk, Metamorphonic harvests presence, making their otherwise invisible world audible.
Metamorphonic by Yuta Ikeya - Video
Metamorphonic by Yuta Ikeya - three types of habitats: The Dome, where caterpillars were fed and grew; The Temple, where they spun their cocoons; and The Tower, where moths lived and eventually laid new eggs.
More-Than-Human Design
The idea of designing with non-humans, rather than for them, challenges centuries of anthropocentric thought. In design, we are taught to centre human needs, human behaviours, human desires. Metamorphonic rejects this hierarchy and instead asks:
Can we design for a species we don’t fully understand, without centring our own desires?
Materiality and temporality are central to this question. Silkworms move at their own pace, indifferent to human schedules. Their life cycle—egg, larva, pupa, moth—unfolds in weeks, guided by instinct rather than urgency. For Ikeya, this meant surrendering control, adapting to the silkworms’ rhythms rather than imposing human timelines.
Yet even in this attempt at cohabitation, the constraints of human-centred design remained. The insects depended on human care, their survival entwined with the project’s timeline.
The tension between intention and reality is what makes Metamorphonic so compelling—not just as an experiment, but as a reflection on the complexities of more-than-human design.
Beyond the Project: What Does It Mean to Coexist?
As the soundscape of Metamorphonic fades, the questions it raises linger. In a world where ecosystems are collapsing under human impact, how do we rethink our relationships with the species we rarely notice? Can we move beyond extraction and instrumentalisation towards something more reciprocal, more attuned to the needs of others?
Rather than offering simple answers, the project invites us to listen—to the rhythms of an insect’s life, to the possibilities of new forms of connection, and to the limits of our own perception. It shifts the conversation around more-than-human design from theory to necessity, urging us to reconsider our place within the web of life.
Perhaps the silkworms have been speaking all along.
We just haven’t been listening.
Bombyx mori - domestic silk moth
Metamorphonic
by Yuta Ikeya
https://www.yutaikeya.com/projects/metamorphonic
Design research project at Industrial Design master’s program at Eindhoven University of Technology
Supervisor: Bahareh Barati
video
photography
Courtesy of Yuta Ikeya
words
Nina Zulian