Introduction
One of the things that has left a particularly strong impression on visitors to the Osaka-Kansai Expo venue is likely the distinctive design, based on red and blue tones, that evokes eyes or cells. Separate from Myaku-Myaku, the official character, it stood out prominently among the venue decorations, and even came to be affectionately known among visitors as “Komyaku.” The Expo Association’s recent publication of guidelines for fan creations based on this “Komyaku” seems to carry significance beyond merely establishing rules for fans.
This move can be read as a form of intellectual property and brand strategy addressing the question of how the memories of a major event like the Expo can be preserved in society after it closes. In this article, I would like to consider the significance of the “Komyaku” fan creation guide from three perspectives: copyright, co-creation, and urban branding.
A Shift from “Don’t Use It” to “Use It with Peace of Mind”
What is noteworthy about these guidelines is that, rather than banning fan creations outright, the Expo Association has clearly expressed a willingness to allow them under certain conditions. As long as the use is non-commercial and private on the part of individuals, people are permitted to create illustrations, digital images, costumes, plush toys, and the like, and post them on their personal social media accounts or blogs. On the other hand, the sale or distribution of goods using fan-created works remains prohibited.
This distinction is extremely important. Under copyright law, while the act of creation itself may be possible within the scope of private use, once the work is posted on social media, it would normally exceed the bounds of “private use,” meaning the rights holder’s permission would generally be required. By clearly specifying the conditions in advance and defining the permissible scope, the Association enables fans to create and share their works without legal anxiety.
In other words, these guidelines are not so much a relaxation of rights enforcement as they are a case of the rights holder establishing rules and institutionally embracing fan activity. Rather than treating the protection of intellectual property and the spread of culture as opposing goals, the approach here seeks to reconcile the two.
Why Is “Komyaku” So Interesting?
What makes “Komyaku” so intriguing is that it was not originally designed as an official character, but instead developed within the venue decorations and became culturally recognized through the name given to it by visitors. Its official name is said to be “ID,” representing “individual life,” yet the name that actually gained widespread traction was “Komyaku,” an affectionate nickname that spread organically on social media.
This reflects a key feature of modern brand formation. A brand does not become powerful simply because its sender defines it unilaterally. It acquires real social depth only when the audience gives it a name, assigns meaning to it, and invents ways of using it. Through the accumulation of impressions such as “it feels like a childlike version of Myaku-Myaku,” “it’s cute seeing it all over the venue,” and “I want to walk around the venue wearing self-made Komyaku goods,” “Komyaku” seems to have evolved from a mere design motif into a symbol of shared experience.
That is precisely why these guidelines matter: they serve to retroactively acknowledge the fan practices that had already emerged. Rather than saying that the Association created a culture from scratch, it would be closer to reality to say that it has accepted, from the standpoint of IP rules, a culture that had already been growing on the ground.
The Real Issue in Preserving Expo Memories
The article repeatedly refers to the “inheritance of memory.” This is the most important point. Large-scale events like the Expo generate excitement while they are taking place, but they also face the risk of being rapidly forgotten after they close. At such times, simply managing officially created logos and characters in a strict manner makes it difficult for those memories to remain embedded in everyday life.
By contrast, actions such as fans making their own keychains, posting them on social media, and actually wearing them at the venue tie the memory of the event to personal experience. Memories do not last only because of official messaging; they endure when individuals re-edit them and bring them home through their own words and handiwork. These guidelines provide institutional support for precisely that process.
Particularly striking are the voices of visitors who enjoyed making handmade Myaku-Myaku keychains during the Expo period. The feeling that “it would be exciting to wear something I made myself at the venue” captures the very essence of a participatory event. By becoming not just spectators but also, in a small way, creators, visitors turn the Expo from a consumed event into a personal experience. The lifting of restrictions on “Komyaku” fan creations seems to lie on an extension of that idea.
Its Skill and Limits as an IP Strategy
From the perspective of intellectual property strategy, this policy is quite skillful. By continuing to control commercial uses such as sales and distribution while encouraging personal creation and sharing, it can lower the cost of brand diffusion while preventing disorderly commercialization. It is a design that seeks to balance rights management and community building.
That said, there are also limits. As Professor Kawamura of the University of Marketing and Distribution Sciences points out, for something to remain beloved over the long term, it is not enough for the design simply to be interesting. A narrative tied to the Expo’s worldview of “life” and “connection” must continue to be told and retold. This is a very important point.
In reality, strong IP does not endure on visual impact alone. It becomes a long-term asset only when people share what meaning is embedded in it, why it has that form, and what values it is connected to. While “Komyaku” is visually powerful, it is still unclear how fully the underlying concept of “individual life” has permeated society. The challenge going forward is not merely whether fan creations will spread, but how those creations will connect back to the ideals of the Expo.
Possibilities for Expansion into Urban Branding
As its creator, Mr. Hikichi, has suggested, the idea of deploying “Komyaku” in tourism guidance, signage, and municipal public relations in order to enhance a city’s sense of unity and branding is also highly interesting. This is because it proposes transforming an Expo-derived design from an event-limited symbol into an asset for urban landscape and communication.
If this works well, the Expo will become not just a one-time event, but an opportunity to renew the image assets of the city of Osaka. In general, when people talk about the legacy of an event, they tend to focus on buildings or transportation infrastructure. But what may truly endure are the visual languages that people encounter repeatedly throughout the city. If seeing them makes people recall “the atmosphere of that Expo,” that is surely a legacy in its own right.
Even so, for that to happen, “Komyaku” must remain more than a mere decorative symbol; it must continue to be something to which citizens and visitors can attach positive meaning. The more broadly it is expanded into administrative and tourism settings, the more important shared meaning becomes, alongside the design’s freedom and appeal.
Conclusion
At first glance, the publication of the “Komyaku” fan creation guide may seem like a small piece of news, but in fact it is highly suggestive. It embodies the idea that culture can be fostered not by closing off intellectual property, but by opening it under certain conditions. It also reflects a strategy not of confining Expo memories to official archives, but of prolonging them within everyday life through fan creations and social media sharing.
The success of an Expo cannot be measured solely by attendance figures or buzz during the event period. It must also be evaluated in terms of what remains afterward and how it continues to be talked about. In that sense, creating an environment in which people can safely make, share, and keep “Komyaku” as a personal memory carries considerable significance.
What will matter from here on is whether “Komyaku” will remain merely a cute design, or whether it can become a cultural symbol that calls to mind the Expo’s ideals of “life” and “connection” in everyday life. These guidelines may well be worthy of recognition as a first step toward opening up that possibility.