[No. 183] Yoshimune Nonomura

The first time I walked up the gentle slope from Hiyoshi Station toward the Keio Futsubu School, I was 12 years old. I never imagined that I would end up spending 15 years in this town, from junior high and high school through university and graduate school. When Professor Naoki Yoshioka, who supervised me in graduate school, asked me to write this column, I was filled with nostalgia for the town's radial street layout.

Six years after entering the Keio Futsubu School, I went on to the Faculty of Science and Technology, first in Cluster 3 and then into the Department of Applied Chemistry. I was actually interested in biology, but the Faculty of Science and Technology didn't have a biology department, so I chose chemistry thinking it was the closest thing (is that really a good reason...?). What I was really interested in was club activities. For some reason, I became obsessed with the idea of climbing a mountain in winter—a snowy one at that!—and so, with no experience whatsoever, I knocked on the door of the mountaineering club. By June, I found myself climbing Mount Tsurugi in the Northern Alps from the Kurobe Dam, without really knowing what I was getting into. I would get exhausted on traverses and fall off when rock climbing, making me a bit of a problem member, but those four years spent on the ridges of the Alps for 100 days a year, through all four seasons, were the best.

When I went on to graduate school, most of my drinking buddies had found jobs, and club activities were over, so I had some free time on my hands. I figured it was time to actually study, so I decided to reread my physical chemistry and inorganic chemistry textbooks from the beginning. And you know what? It was fascinating! It had been 10 years since I had studied seriously—not since my junior high entrance exams—and I rediscovered the joy of learning. The research theme I received from Professor Hidenari Inoue of analytical and coordination chemistry was "Synthesis and Spectroscopic Properties of Metal-Substituted Chlorophylls." I would extract chlorophyll from spinach bought at a local grocery store, synthesize various derivatives, and analyze them using some rather niche methods like electron spin resonance and Mössbauer spectroscopy. After entering the doctoral program, Professor Yoshioka taught me the basics of organic synthesis and molecular orbital calculations. I was thrilled by the super-niche world where I could see how slight differences in functional groups or distortions in molecular structure could dramatically change the shape and energy of molecular orbitals, which in turn related to photosynthesis and enzyme activity. Back then, I looked forward to going to the library almost every day to copy the latest papers and then consulting with my professors about new research themes based on what I'd read.

Professor Inoue's guidance style at the time could be summed up in one word: laissez-faire. As I recall, after joining the lab in April, I only had about two discussions with him before the mid-term presentation during summer break. On the other hand, whenever I went to him for advice, he would talk with me for hours, and in the end, he'd say something like, "Well, why don't you just give it a try?" and then buy the reagents for me. There were several times when we would leave the lab late at night together, get into a discussion on the Toyoko Line, and end up having him treat me to sushi somewhere around Jiyugaoka. Don't follow trends; think for yourself and just try it! Looking back, I feel that I developed this stance during the six years I spent under the guidance of my professors in the Yagami labs.

After completing graduate school, I joined Kao Corporation. Since I had a Ph.D., I assumed I'd be assigned to a basic research department, but to my surprise, I was sent to the Cosmetics Research Laboratories! During my new employee training, I received my very first lessons in cosmetics and makeup. At the time, Kao had only recently entered the cosmetics industry and was still figuring out how to compete by creating cutting-edge products. All I was told in my first interview was, "Nonomura-kun, create something amazing that's never been seen before!" I switched my specialty from coordination chemistry to surface chemistry, and my days were spent covered in powders and oils, developing new materials and formulation technologies for foundations, lipsticks, and even body soaps. Once I started, I found it to be quite interesting! The world of product development was full of unknowns and unsolved problems, and I remember getting excited, thinking, "Wow, I could write a paper on just about anything I do here!" Moreover, I had the opportunity to be mentored by world-class experts in surface chemistry at work and to have discussions with fellow researchers. I was even able to give presentations at academic conferences and write papers in between product development projects.

And so, 10 years went by. One day, as I was looking through an academic journal on my commute, I saw a faculty position opening at a university for my specialty, "surface chemistry." Hmm? Couldn't I apply for this? The desire to pursue research as my heart dictated in the free environment of a university began to well up inside me. Research in a corporate setting was rewarding and often well-funded, but it also came with the frustration of not being able to easily take on challenges in unknown territory where the outcome is uncertain, and having to persuade everyone around you step-by-step before proceeding with your research. And so, my job search began. Since it was my first time applying for an academic position, I prepared my resume while seeking advice from research colleagues and friends, and sent it off to the university... Unfortunately, I was not hired by the first university whose opening I saw, but I was accepted by the Faculty of Engineering at Yamagata University and took up my post at the Yonezawa campus in the spring of 2007.

More than a decade has passed since I established the surface chemistry laboratory at Yamagata University, and I have sent off over 70 graduates and postgraduates. The lab's concept is "The Chemistry of Deliciousness and Beauty." So far, we have been able to propose a "biomimetic tactile sensing system" to investigate the diverse and delicate textures that humans feel, a "naturally derived antibacterial powder" to control the human skin microbiome, and a mechanism for how humans perceive a moist feeling. While daily life has its ups and downs, being able to advance new research while discussing things back and forth with students is a true blessing.

Thirty years after graduating from university, I sometimes get contacted by old friends I've lost touch with, which makes me reminisce about the years I spent at Yagami. There was an atmosphere of taking on new challenges, one by one, no matter how small, and I feel that the spirit of being a pioneer is still being passed down.

To all prospective students, Yagami is a fun and stimulating place! We hope you'll join us.