Kurt, Merve ECOPOIESIS AND MIYAZAKI’S CINEMA: POETIC INTERACTION WITH NATURE AND A NEW ECOLOGICAL PERSPECTIVE

ECOPOIESIS AND MIYAZAKI’S CINEMA: POETIC INTERACTION WITH NATURE AND A NEW ECOLOGICAL PERSPECTIVE

Merve Kurt

is an interdisciplinary researcher, poet, artist, and practitioner working at the intersection of expressive arts, ecological thought, and social justice. She holds graduate degrees in social sciences and humanities, and her current research explores ecopoiesis, posthumanism, and cinematic aesthetics. With over a decade of experience working with international NGOs and in community-based humanitarian projects, she integrates critical theory with creative practice to examine human–nature relations, ethical aesthetics, and the healing potential of art. Her poetic and visual works reflect a commitment to more-than-human narratives, affective ecologies, and transformative imaginaries. She currently resides between Edinburgh, UK and Diyarbakır, Turkey.

Abstract

In this article, the author explores the concept of ecopoiesis through the ecological and aesthetic dimensions of Hayao Miyazaki's cinema. Drawing on Stephen K. Levine’s poietic ecology framework, the analysis focuses on Princess Mononoke, Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind, and Spirited Away to investigate how nature is represented not merely as a passive background or resource but as a co-creating, sentient subject. The paper first elaborates the theoretical foundations of ecopoiesis, rooted in Heidegger’s notion of poiesis and extended through Levine’s expressive arts perspective. It additionally places these ideas in context these ideas within Japanese cultural philosophy—particularly the Shinto worldview, mono no aware, and yūgen—to highlight the cultural resonance of Miyazaki’s work. This shows that Miyazaki’s films offer an embodied, sensory, and ethical relationship with nature that transcends dichotomies such as nature vs. technology or preservation vs. exploitation. His films act as poetic sites where ecological awareness and existential responsibility intertwine. In the end, it is argued that ecopoiesis, as manifested in Miyazaki’s narratives, offers not only an analytical lens but also an alternative life orientation—an aesthetic, ethical, and co-creative mode of being with the world in the face of intensifying ecological crises.

Keywords: ecopoiesis, Hayao Miyazaki, poietic ecology, expressive arts, nature as subject, Japanese aesthetics, Heidegger, environmental cinema, ecological ethics, Spirited Away

 

Introduction

In an era increasingly shaken by ecological crises, the role of art—particularly cinema—in reshaping how we engage with nature has become increasingly significant. Climate change, the loss of biodiversity, environmental pollution, and social injustices collectively highlight the urgent need to regard nature not merely as a “resource reservoir” or as “romantic scenery,” but as a “partner” that co-produces meaning with humankind. Here, the concept of ecopoiesis affirms that human existence inherently contains a “poietic” (creative) potential to co-construct with nature, positing that nature, too, participates actively as a subject in processes of creation [12].

This article aims to examine Hayao Miyazaki’s cinema through the lens of ecopoiesis. One of the leading figures in Japanese animation, Miyazaki offers not merely aesthetic storytelling but also a complex, layered, and at times contradictory vision of nature. Films such as Princess Mononoke, Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind, and Spirited Away transcend the simplistic binary of “conservation” vs. “exploitation” in depicting human–nature relationships. In these works, forests, rivers, and animals emerge as characters that possess subjectivity as richly as their human counterparts.

The article will first discuss the theoretical foundations of ecopoiesis, then assess how Miyazaki’s cinema intersects with this concept, and, in the concluding section, explore how ecopoiesis and Miyazaki’s works may offer transformative possibilities in the context of today’s environmental crises.

Theoretical framework: Ecopoiesis and poietic ecology

To grasp ecopoiesis in depth, one must first address Martin Heidegger’s concept of poiesis, followed by Stephen K. Levine and Alexander Kopytin’s ideas on “ecopoiesis” and “poietic ecology.” Subsequently, we will consider how this approach provides a foundation for the domain of art, particularly film.

Poiesis: Heidegger and the creative nature of humanity

The term poiesis (from the Ancient Greek ποιεῖν, poiein) carries meanings of “to create,” “to bring forth,” and “to generate.” It denotes not just technical production, but also the poetic, artistic, and existential process by which something is brought into being. In Aristotle’s philosophy, poiesis stands alongside praxis (action) and theoria (contemplation) as one of three essential modalities of activity, implying a “meeting with being” beyond mere technical manufacturing.

Martin Heidegger, in his essay “The Question Concerning Technology” [7], enriches the modern understanding of poiesis by examining technology not merely as an instrumental function but as a mode of “unconcealment” (aletheia). According to Heidegger, modern technology represents a perspective that objectifies nature, reducing it to a consumable “standing reserve” (Bestand). Yet an earlier form of creativity—poiesis—embodies a mutual openness in which both humanity and nature come into meaningful presence in an ontological “coming-forth.”

In this process, nature is not a passive entity. Instead, it serves as the “Earth,” which never fully surrenders itself to human cognition, containing a mysterious and resistant dimension [12]. Hence, poiesis does not merely encompass creation; it constitutes a poetic, ethical, and existential relationship with nature.

Ecopoiesis: Stephen K. Levine’s approach

Ecopoiesis is an approach that invites the rethinking of human–nature relations not only on ecological but also ontological, ethical, and aesthetic levels. In Stephen K. Levine’s (2022) formulation, it signifies a “poetic mode of existence,” wherein humans are not only shapers of the world but also shaped by it [12]. This reciprocal exchange involves not just humanity as a subject but also a world that beckons, feels, and responds. Poietic ecology rejects a merely romantic ideal of man–nature unity, instead adopting a philosophical perspective that recognizes human creativity while acknowledging Heidegger’s notion of the “Earth” as a domain that remains inexhaustible and resists full domination.

In his article “Ecopoiesis: Towards a Poietic Ecology,” Levine enumerates eleven principles under the heading Principles of a poietic ecology:

The first principle underscores that humans are shaping beings. Rooted in Aristotle’s idea of the human as zoon poietikon, or a “creative animal,” it aligns with Heidegger’s view that creation is not merely technical production but a revealing of existential truth [12, 7]. Likewise, Levine emphasizes that while humans have the capacity to shape their environment, shaping should be regarded as a response rather than an exercise of unilateral control. Analogous to Gadamer’s hermeneutic circle, each act of shaping engages in a dialogue with what precedes it—this is Levine’s second principle. Humanity stands in relation to what has come before; this does not strictly determine us, but it provides a framework for creativity [4, 12].

The third principle posits that human existence unfolds in a mode of possibility. Consistent with Sartre’s stance that “existence precedes essence,” it asserts that humans can choose and direct their being in ways not yet actualized [21]. This freedom, however, is not without limits. The fourth principle speaks to the finitude of human existence: humanity is mortal, and we alone possess the awareness of our own mortality. Heidegger’s concept of Dasein highlights this as “being-toward-death,” compelling us to act not as an omnipotent creator-god, but as a finite shaper cognizant of our limitations [5].

The fifth principle reminds us that Earth’s dimension perpetually lies beyond our sphere of power. Hence, Levine recommends an attitude of “awe [12],” echoing Heidegger’s insight (in “The Origin of the Work of Art”) that nature is never fully unveiled [6]. It retains something hidden, resisting total human control.

According to the sixth principle, humans exist as embodied beings, not purely mental entities. Drawing on Merleau-Ponty’s phenomenology, the body is not merely a tool but the fundamental medium through which we engage the world [13]. The seventh principle goes further, suggesting that sensory perception holds a cognitive dimension. Levine challenges Kant’s assertion that the senses are “blind,” stating instead that our sensory experience actively pre-forms meaning prior to rational categorization [12, 8]. This idea echoes Heidegger’s notion that “language is the house of being,” implying that the senses, like language, possess a capacity for revealing [6].

The eighth principle proclaims our “aesthetic responsibility” to shape the world [12]. Rooted in the original sense of aisthesis (pertaining to the senses), Levine argues that aesthetics is not mere decoration but an ethical-political awareness [12]. According to the ninth principle, beauty arises from sensory wonder rather than symmetrical perfection [12]. This idea echoes the “sublime” concept debated by Burke (1757/1990) and Kant (1790/2000), affirming that awe, rather than harmony, often underlies the perception of beauty [3, 9].

The tenth principle asserts that art not only represents what is but points to what could be, suggesting a revolutionary, future-oriented potential for art. Finally, the eleventh principle argues that nature itself can be viewed as a work of art, recalling Heidegger’s assertion that “the art work is the strife between Earth and World.” Nature is thus a “struggle” or “mysterious tension” that calls for neither mastery nor subjugation but participation and response.

Levine’s principles broaden the human–nature relationship beyond mere ecological sensitivity; they also embrace a poetic reimagining of creation, of being, and of ethical engagement. Humans function not merely as consumers but as witnesses, creators, and perceivers. Conceiving of nature as a work of art involves not a distanced aesthetic but a shared poetic existence. It invites us to address ecological concerns not just through scientific and technical means, but through ethical and aesthetic awareness.

Levine’s ecopoiesis approach has special significance in art forms where nature is personified, felt through embodiment, and at times symbolically resists, as evidenced—among other settings—in Hayao Miyazaki’s films. Miyazaki’s relationship to nature avoids both romantic idealism and technological fetishism, instead highlighting nature’s agency to transform and be transformed. Viewed this way, ecopoiesis provides both a theoretical and experiential key.

Ecopoiesis in cultural and aesthetic contexts

Ecopoiesis is not merely an environmental ethic or aesthetic appreciation. Rather, it posits a poetic way of thinking about our existential entwinement with nature. Stephen K. Levine argues that humanity is not just a shaping agent, but also shaped by a world that summons us to respond ethically, sensorially, and poetically [12]. This perspective resonates profoundly not only with Western philosophy but also with Japanese cultural traditions.

For centuries, concepts of “unity” and “fluidity” have defined Japan’s relationship with nature. The Shinto belief system holds that every natural entity—stones, rivers, mountains, trees—contains a kami, or spirit [10]. Instead of objectifying nature, this worldview forms a symbiotic, ritual practice of life. It aligns with ecopoiesis by regarding nature as valuable in itself, not merely for human use. This contrasts with the modern Western view of nature, especially after Descartes, which often positions the human as subject and nature as object [11].

Japanese aesthetic thought underscores this perspective through the concept of mono no aware, the melancholic appreciation for life’s transience and fragile beauty [22]. Levine’s emphasis on human finitude and the aesthetic responsibility toward nature closely parallels mono no aware. Discovering beauty in transience reflects Levine’s notion of “sensory wonder” [12]. Whether in Japanese tea ceremonies, cherry blossom viewing, or Zen gardens, aesthetics arises alongside nature’s fluid rhythms. Humans do not dominate but instead accompany the flow of nature [19].

Likewise, in Japanese poetry and art, nature is not a backdrop but an active subject. Haiku, for example, often captures a single natural moment in striking sensory awareness, bypassing a Kantian reliance on rational cognition. Levine’s argument for sensory pre-formation of meaning [12] finds a direct parallel in Japanese aesthetics, wherein beauty resides not in the object but in the relational, poetic encounter. Ecopoiesis, in this sense, functions less as an imposed theoretical framework and more as a philosophical rearticulation of an existing cultural sensibility.

The notion of “Earth,” as advanced by Heidegger and expanded in Levine’s ecopoiesis, correlates with the Japanese concept of yūgen—an inexplicable depth hinted at in a mist-shrouded mountain or the wavering silhouette of bamboo [23]. Yūgen embodies what lies beyond form, summoning a sense of ethical distance and creative silence [12]. A stance in shaping the world involves not external manipulation but an inner listening, reminiscent of the spare simplicity of Sumi-e paintings, calligraphy, or ikebana arrangements [2]. Rousseau’s contrast between French and English gardens finds a parallel in the Japanese garden, where natural design is not artificially imposed but co-shaped by nature’s own rhythms [20].

Hayao Miyazaki’s films illustrate these ecopoietic concepts on a cinematic stage. Instead of merely presenting nature as scenery, Miyazaki depicts it as an agent—winds, forests, animals, spirits that think, remember, and interact [18]. In Princess Mononoke, the rage of forest gods suggests that nature is not just in need of protection but retains its own volition and power. Spirited Away explores the existential alienation of a world that has lost its connection to nature, dramatizing its renewal through a poetic transformation. Such transformations are neither merely technical nor moral but ecopoietic encounters that highlight an experiential, ongoing reciprocity.

In short, Levine’s ecopoiesis approach envisions not just a theory but a fully embodied, ethical, and aesthetic lifestyle. Historical resonance with Japanese culture and aesthetic tradition underscores how art, ritual, and everyday life converge in a living tapestry of ecopoietic practice. Miyazaki’s cinema revitalizes this perspective for modern audiences, neither retreating into nostalgia nor idealizing nature, but offering an attitude of humility and co-creation with the vulnerable yet vibrant more-than-human realm.

Miyazaki’s cinema and ecopoiesis

Hayao Miyazaki (b. 1941) stands as a seminal figure in Japanese animation. Works such as Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind (1984), Princess Mononoke (1997), and Spirited Away (2001) repeatedly address the delicate balance between humanity and the natural world. The 2021 English translation of Turning Point: 1997–2008 [14] details the director’s creative processes and reflections during that era. Miyazaki frequently highlights nature not as a “romantic setting” but as subjects that can be fierce or compassionate, never merely decorative.

Princess Mononoke: The poietic ecology of human–nature conflict

Princess Mononoke (1997) exemplifies Miyazaki’s depiction of nature not as a passive backdrop but as a transformative and resisting force. The film centers on the conflict between Iron Town—an industrial settlement—and the gods, beasts, and spirits of the forest. This conflict eschews simplistic good–evil binaries, portraying a multi-layered network of relationships between humans and nature [16]. The film avoids both naive romanticism and uncritical exaltation of technological progress, an avoidance that ecopoiesis helps clarify.

Stephen K. Levine frames poietic ecology as an interweaving of ethical, aesthetic, and ontological dimensions in human–nature relations [12]. Such multiplicity is evident in Princess Mononoke. The forest gods—Moro the wolf deity, the Deer God, Nago the boar god—are not merely “representations of nature” but unique beings who think, feel, and rage. Their agency echoes Levine’s assertion that “nature is not passive but possesses its own potential as Earth [12]”. Heidegger (1971) characterizes Earth as simultaneously revealing and concealing, emphasizing that nature both reveals meaning and withholds something [6]. Within the film’s narrative, nature is not a neutral resource but an agent imposing ethical and aesthetic limits.

Lady Eboshi, whose industrial ambition strips the forest, also demonstrates compassion toward women and lepers by integrating them into her community—an illustration of the contradictory tensions at play [16]. Ecopoiesis rejects oversimplified rhetoric of “protect nature,” pointing instead to an inherently ambiguous ethical space. Although industrial production seemingly yields social good, it also obliterates the poetic, sensory dimension that binds humans and nature. This tension underlines Levine’s eighth principle of “aesthetic responsibility”: ignoring this responsibility leads to destruction [12].

Princess Mononoke’s center is the twofold form of the Forest Spirit—a giver of life by day, a fearsome “Nightwalker” by night—symbolizing nature’s capacity to create and destroy. This dynamic evokes Kant’s notion of the sublime while resonating with Levine’s ninth principle, which holds that “beauty arises from awe and sometimes fear [12, p. 67].” Nature is not merely harmonious; its inscrutability, anger, and grandeur consistently remind humanity of its boundaries. In line with Heidegger’s (1977) critique of technology as reducing nature to a “standing reserve, [7]” Princess Mononoke portrays an encounter with nature as a poetic openness, inviting existential reflection and ethical disquiet.

Miyazaki (2021), in his book Turning Point, reflects on the portrayal of the human–nature relationship in his films, describing it as an 'unresolvable dilemma' [14]. This corresponds to ecopoiesis in rejecting definitive solutions or utopian harmony in favor of a living tension requiring constant ethical engagement. There is no absolute peace between humans and nature, nor a total victory for one side. The conflict instead catalyzes awareness and change. Levine’s tenth principle states that art shows not only what is but what could be [12]. In Miyazaki’s film, Princess Mononoke, the single recommendation for the future is a reconnection with nature achieved through sensory attention and poetic mindfulness.

Ashitaka, the protagonist, manifests a “poetic ethics” by standing between the forest and Iron Town without taking an absolute side. Merleau-Ponty’s phenomenology suggests that embodied encounters yield ethical insight [13]; Ashitaka’s embodiment as he engages both human society and natural spirits reveals an aesthetic sensibility enabling him to act empathically. His relationships with San and Moro resist domination, foregrounding attentiveness, dialogue, and solidarity. Thus, Ashitaka epitomizes a cinematic representation of ecopoietic subjectivity.

Princess Mononoke’s settings function as emotional landscapes rather than mere story backdrops. The misty depths of the forest, the flowing of streams, blooming flowers, and footprints of the Deer God collectively convey an aesthetic partnership with nature. A perceptual realm aligns with Levine’s notion of “preformation of meaning” in the senses [12]. The natural world in this film thus becomes not merely narrative but also a sensorial and poetic call to the viewer, illustrating that cinema can be an expression of existential interrelationship with nature.

In conclusion, Princess Mononoke neither proposes naive integration of human and nature nor posits an annihilative clash. Instead, it depicts ecological crisis within a philosophical and ethical framework marked by tensions. Because life itself is contradictory, Levine’s ecopoiesis embraces these inherent contradictions as a poetic ethic [12]. To live poetically with nature transcends preservation alone; it entails sensitive co-transformation, finding beauty amid boundaries. Miyazaki reveals this mode of being: The forest is not merely trees but rather a poetic scene where existence meets meaning.

Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind: Ecological catastrophe and renewal

Released in 1984, Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind is an early crystallization of Miyazaki’s cinematic approach to the human–nature relationship and serves as a visual precursor to the ecopoiesis concept. Set in a post-apocalyptic world, the film depicts the Toxic Jungle—a forest teeming with giant insects (notably the Ohmu)—seemingly threatening to humanity, yet ultimately revealed as a space of rejuvenation for the polluted Earth [15]. This parallels the ecopoietic dynamic of mutual shaping. Nature here is not a final wasteland, but a living Earth with its own laws, rhythms, and memory.

Levine defines ecopoiesis not only as an aesthetic category but also as an ethical form of existence wherein humans perceive the world through the senses, transforming themselves in the process [12]. Nausicaä embodies this process. She engages not in a war against nature but in dialogue with it, listening to the giant insects and sensing the forest’s regenerative potential [15]. This “poietic encounter” resonates with Heidegger’s notion of poiesis as an uncovering of veiled truth [7]. More than a scientist rationally dissecting her environment, Nausicaä becomes a being who discerns meaning through bodily intuition, exemplifying Levine’s principle of “sensing as preformation of meaning [12].”

Nature, in this narrative, is neither purely “contaminated” nor hopelessly “ruined.” Rather, it rebuilds a balance on its own terms, despite humanity’s destructive legacy. In an ecopoietic view, nature is no static paradise to be restored but a field of perpetual becoming. Discovering pure water sources underground and learning the forest’s purification function confirm nature’s aesthetic shapes imbued with ethical substance. The once-terrifying insects (Ohmu) emerge as carriers of defense and memory, echoing humanity’s historical errors and demanding ethical co-creation.

Levine’s notion of “aesthetic responsibility” underscores how Nausicaä’s decisions reflect not only logical but also poetic awareness [12]. The forest’s aesthetic—constantly shifting fungi, vibrant colors, breathing earth—subverts classical definitions of beauty. In line with the ninth principle of ecopoiesis, beauty arises from awe and an encounter with the unknown [12]. Nausicaä’s awe is not a stance of dominating technology but a recognition of human limits, acknowledging a potential for coexistence with nature.

Because humanity is shaped by its past, yet retains freedom to choose, shaping (or “shaping-back”) also applies to people’s ethical frameworks. Sartre’s philosophy of existential freedom parallels Nausicaä’s journey: She not only alters the world but also transforms herself [21]. Thus, the film becomes not merely an ecological critique but a poietic narrative of re-formation.

In the final scene, Nausicaä sacrifices herself to stop the Ohmu stampede. This is no standard heroic trope but an affirmation of partnership with nature rather than conquering it. Levine’s ecopoiesis reiterates that humans should live within the recognition of their finitude (fourth principle) [12]. Nausicaä’s willingness to die underscores that awareness of mortality engenders respect for nature as a co-creative partner rather than a mere resource or aesthetic object. The encounter with the Ohmu enacts an ethical awe echoing Heidegger’s Earth concept, emphasizing the inviolate mystery and tenacity of nature [6].

Consequently, Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind frames human–nature relations not as a question of conquering or “fixing” nature but as a co-created existential field. Instead of extolling technology or moralizing its use, it stresses a poetic witnessing and sensory openness. Through ecopoiesis, the film transcends typical environmental narrative to become a statement on existence itself. Nature is a site of renewal for both the planet and humanity, prompting a synergy of transformation. In this cinematic poiesis, humans are creative, finite beings capable of responding to nature rather than exploiting it.

Spirited Away: Symbolic and ritual creativity

Spirited Away (2001) merges themes of nature, identity, ritual, and transformation, offering a compelling cinematic realization of ecopoiesis on an individual scale. The film revolves around Chihiro, a ten-year-old girl who, while moving to a new home with her parents, stumbles into a world inhabited by spirits. Instead of a purely fantastical realm, this spirit world is an aesthetic and symbolic reality in which nature is endowed with agency and presence. Chihiro’s loss of identity and her journey to reclaim it reflect both personal maturation and her evolving connection to the natural/spiritual dimension [17]. Viewed this way, the film exemplifies the core premise of ecopoiesis: humans do not merely shape nature but are themselves shaped and reborn through their sensory encounters with it [12].

A standout sequence is the appearance of the “stink spirit,” a seemingly foul, unidentifiable mass that Chihiro cleanses in a bathhouse ritual, revealing a polluted river spirit beneath all the debris. The waste extracted (bicycles, metal scraps, garbage) symbolizes traces of human impact on nature. Yet this suggests not that nature is irreversibly wounded, but that it can heal when assisted by an empathetic, ethical, and creative collaboration. The scene closely aligns with Levine’s principles of “aesthetic responsibility” and the notion that “beauty arises from awe” [12]. Here, beauty emerges not from harmony but from recognizing potential life amid rubble.

Miyazaki (2021) clarifies in Turning Point that such relationships with nature are both ecological and symbolic [14]. The spirit world represents repressed images of nature returning to confrontation. Chihiro’s experiences involve body, ritual, and memory. Echoing Heidegger’s view that “language is the house of being” [6], Spirited Away suggests nature has its own language—a language not of reason but of ritual and the senses. Chihiro must engage not through discourse but through physical touch, cleansing, and empathy. This idea echoes Merleau-Ponty’s (1962) claim that “the body carries the meaning of the world,” inseparable from thought or action [13].

Ritual plays a central poietic role in the film. The spirit bathhouse not only facilitates cleansing but reimagines a space where nature and humans can reconnect. It becomes an arena in which estrangement and pollution are confronted, consistent with Benjamin’s (1969) notion of jetztzeit (“now-time”), wherein the past resurfaces in symbolic form. Chihiro’s journey unfolds not just in space but also in layers of time—childhood, memory, and bodily sensitivity come together to enact ecopoietic transformation [1].

Spirited Away’s aesthetic design augments this transformation. The spirit world resists simple categorization; it brims with fragrances, sounds, textures, and lights. Such multi-sensory richness encourages viewers to engage with the film on a bodily level as well. Levine (2022) argues that senses are not passive but inherently creative, priming meaning formation. Nature in the film thus becomes an active subject in the “poetic fabric” of the narrative [12]. This multi-sensory tapestry spotlights the expressive potential of animation. In Chihiro’s arc, lines, sounds, rhythms, and gaps coalesce to articulate nature’s voice in cinematic form.

Sartre’s existential ethics also inform Chihiro’s evolution. Sartre (1943/2007) posits that human essence is defined by action rather than predestined nature [21]. Initially timid, Chihiro embraces empathy, care, and a new self through her sensory bond with nature. This re-creation of self surpasses mere personal growth, developing instead into an emergent communal being—exemplifying the third ecopoietic principle of “existing in possibility” by making ethical choices that shape a shared future [12].

Hence, Spirited Away shows that nature is not a powerless victim but a co-author of meaning. Ecopoiesis here does more than propose an environmental perspective; it demonstrates how we might live existentially in communion with nature. The film underscores that nature, though aesthetically shaped, likewise shapes humanity—an interlocking relationship. Scene after scene, the viewer feels and ultimately internalizes this synergy. By the time Chihiro returns home, she is no longer the same child; she has, through nature and ritual, become a differently awakened person.

Discussion and analysis

A critical reading of Miyazaki’s cinematic oeuvre through the conceptual lens of ecopoiesis enables a deeper understanding of the aesthetic, ethical, and ontological dimensions of his work. Instead of offering a simplistic environmental narrative, Miyazaki's films stage complex ecological entanglements where artistic creation becomes a mode of existential engagement. Within this interpretive framework, several interwoven dimensions emerge:

Nature–Human Relationships: Miyazaki moves beyond the Western dualisms (human as ruler of nature vs. human as part of nature) by imagining a sphere of interaction where new forms emerge from both conflict and collaboration. In Princess Mononoke, for example, the same human activities that harm nature also incorporate social justice. This echoes the fundamental tension in ecopoiesis—that coexistence with nature is neither total harmony nor pure antagonism, but an ongoing process of dialogue, sensing, and reshaping. Heidegger’s notion of poiesis suggests humanity shapes its environment poetically, while Earth remains a mysteriously resistant dimension [7]. Miyazaki’s films illustrate this poetic dynamic aesthetically.

Responsibility and Art: Ecopoiesis pushes art’s function beyond merely “making beauty.” As Stephen K. Levine emphasizes, aesthetic experience involves a sensory witness and an ethical jolt [12]. Films like Spirited Away convey empathy and ecological consciousness through nature-based rituals, symbols, and bodily experiences, prompting viewers to reconsider their own world in a poietic sense. Miyazaki’s concept of beauty avoids idealization, situating itself instead in the friction of contradictory experiences—a stance in harmony with ecopoietic aesthetics [12].

Childhood and Imagination: In Spirited Away, the child’s perspective exemplifies direct, bodily, and intuitive engagements with the environment. This corresponds to Levine’s sixth and seventh principles on the sensory dimension’s formative role in meaning-making [12]. Miyazaki’s child characters, unencumbered by adult estrangement, embody aesthetic openness, poetic sensitivity, and ethical intuition. Ecopoiesis thus highlights childhood’s creative potential as symbolic of humankind’s sensory capacity.

Technology: Ecopoiesis challenges the view of Miyazaki’s cinema as simplistically “anti-technology.” In Nausicaä or Howl’s Moving Castle, technology can be destructive or reparative, depending on whether humans acknowledge their finitude and operate poetically in dialogue with nature. Heidegger (1977) remarks that technology, practiced as a form of poiesis, can reveal existential truth. Levine calls for “poietic design” grounded in aesthetics and ethics [12].

Therefore, Miyazaki’s cinema exemplifies not only an application of ecopoiesis but also a lived ethic and aesthetic practice. Thinking with nature, creating alongside it, and responding through an embodied openness can serve as a new poetic beginning for both cinema and human existence.

Conclusion: Ecopoiesis and Miyazaki’s vision of hope

By engaging the concept of ecopoiesis with Hayao Miyazaki’s film worlds, this study offers more than an aesthetic analysis; it extends an ethical and existential invitation to reconsider our relationship with nature. Works like Princess Mononoke, Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind, and Spirited Away do not simply preserve nature or treat it as scenic backdrop but portray it as a self-directed force that influences and is influenced by humanity. This parallels Stephen K. Levine’s (2022) poietic ecology perspective, emphasizing how humans shape nature even as nature shapes them, fostering both sensory attunement and moral accountability [12].

Ecopoiesis extends beyond scientific or policy dialogues concerning environmental crises by centering art, the senses, and poetic awareness. Miyazaki’s cinema stands as a perfect embodiment of this idea: at a time when rational solutions may fail to resonate and technical data can become dehumanizing, encountering a polluted river spirit or the silent watchfulness of a forest can awaken ecological consciousness. Levine’s notion of aesthetic responsibility draws the viewer into a broad ethical field, experienced through color, sound, ritual, and the body. Instead of passive observation, the viewer is implicated in nature’s story, moving from spectatorship to empathy.

Miyazaki’s perspective transcends Western-centric ecological narratives. Nature is neither purely idealized nor is humanity utterly culpable; rather, contradictions coexist. In Princess Mononoke, Lady Eboshi’s industrial violence overlaps with progressive social aims; in Nausicaä, nature redeems itself following humanity’s catastrophic mistakes; in Spirited Away, personal rebirth occurs through ritual engagement with nature. This multifaceted structure aligns with ecopoiesis, which rejects dogmatic solutions and underscores “poetic encounters.” The gap between humanity and nature acquires significance through these events—a flower in bloom, the cleansing of a spirit—moments that crystallize ethical and aesthetic obligation.

In Miyazaki’s view, technology also finds new meaning when placed within a framework of human finitude and a co-creative stance toward nature. His flying machines, walking castles, and mechanical wonders can be agents of transformation if they maintain a poetic conversation with nature. Poiesis involves not merely shaping but also perceiving, listening, and responding, often going beyond language into gesture, silence, and sensory experience.

Facing climate crises and social inequities, the poetic-ecological thinking advanced by ecopoiesis is more vital than ever. It reconceptualizes nature not solely as a problem but as a realm to be inhabited and co-created. Miyazaki’s films show that reimagining nature is possible not only conceptually but also through bodily and emotional channels. We do not merely “know” nature; we reintroduce ourselves to it daily—in the dawn dew, in a forest footstep, in a shifting breeze.

Ultimately, the intersection of ecopoiesis and Miyazaki’s cinema suggests not just an academic construct but a nascent way of living. Rooted in art, the senses, responsibility, and reciprocal transformation, it resonates with a time when nature can no longer remain silent and humankind can no longer remain the absolute subject. This reciprocal poiesis may be a source of hope. Miyazaki’s works visually manifest that hope: neither utopia nor despair, but rather a call to shared living, shared suffering, and shared beauty. Ecopoiesis thus serves not only as a concept but a sensory, ethical, and aesthetic invitation—encouraging us to listen anew to the Earth, each other, and ourselves.

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Reference for citations

Kurt, M. (2025). Ecopoiesis and Miyazaki’s cinema: Poetic interaction with nature and a new ecological perspective. Ecopoiesis: Eco-Human Theory and Practice, 6(2). [open access internet journal]. – URL: http://ecopoiesis.ru (d/m/y)