Matsui Fuyuko: Reclaiming and reaffirming the nihonga

Text and Interview by Jorge Larrañaga

Although it would sometimes appear to be the case, contemporary Japanese art is fortunately not as flat ‑neither in content nor execution– as the superflat sketches by Murakami. Over and above the manga style, there is a group of artists determined to recover traditional engraving and painting techniques and adapt them to the modern age in harmony with the traditional techniques which in the hands of ageing craftsmen and forgotten experts seemed condemned to oblivion. From among this group of young artists, Matsui Fuyuko is perhaps the one who has best been able to reinterpret pure nihonga art, without the need to be an iconoclast. In Matsui’s work, the natural pigments used in the process of nihonga construction form a mass arising from an ethereal void, which then metamorphose into ghostly forms resident in the imagery of traditional Japanese terror. Although both style and technique used are purely Japanese, an extremely disturbing fatality, reminiscent of 18th century romanticism is evident. In addition, the use of a traditional scroll contributes strongly to the creation of an atmosphere which invites contemplation in half shadow, similar to that achieved in the constricted space (tokonama) of a tea house.

As well as participating in the “No Border” exhibition at the Tokyo Museum of Contemporary Art (MOT), which is where she was really recognised, whilst sharing space with other young promising nihonga artists, Matsui has already had three individual exhibitions. Her last exhibition, called “Narcissus”, is a revindication of the artist, at a moment when her artistic career has been eclipsed by her appearances in the media. Named “Woman of the Year” in 2006 by VOGUE Nippon, Matsui’s beauty, and her appearance in various media as if she were a model have transformed her into “the beautiful artist who paints eccentric pictures”, whilst practically ignoring the importance of her work. However, Matsui reinterprets narcissicism as a kind of individual reaffirmation, where the reflection seen is that of herself as an artist, stripped of all the frivolous labels of self-complacency attributed to her by the media.

Some months ago you presented your PhD at the prestigious Tokyo National University of Art, an academic achievement which is not common among the majority of artists. What inspired you to do this? Do you have an ambition to teach?

It is true that in Japan it is not a common step to undertake a PhD in Fine Art, and it was during a visit to Europe that I realised how valuable a PhD is, and perhaps that is what decided me to do it. But my ambition is to be an artist, not an academic.

What is your opinion of the Japanese art market, where young artists have to rent gallery space in order to exhibit their work?

There are some artists who pay up to 2500 euros in order to exhibit their work for a week in a gallery, although there are also galleries which specialise in contemporary art and who select artists. In my case, my work has been recognised from the beginning and I have not been placed in this position, but I think that if the artists are confident in themselves and about the quality of their work, it could be a good way of presenting their work. However, it is frequently the case that artists present their work too soon. Before exhibiting whatever work at any price in several galleries, I think it is better to first develop your style in order to exhibit work of quality from the start.

What is your opinion of biennials and other collective events in the world of art?

I was at the Venice biennial, and in the Kassel Documenta, and whilst it is true that it is difficult to find anything interesting among so many works, I think that what is important about these exhibitions is the ability to bring together artists from different countries and traditions in one space.

Is there any contemporary Japanese artist whose work you like?

No, no-one.

Some years ago, Makoto Aida presented work commissioned for exhibition in the contemporary art fair in Madrid (ARCO). Would you agree to underake a commission? Would you like to see your work exhibited in a fair like that?

I would not mind undertaking a commission, I would see it as a challenge. I would like to see my work exhibited internationally, but that is a decision I would make in consultation with the gallery which represents me (Gallery Naruyama). Whatever, I imagine that we would be very careful about the location.

I recall that in a previous interview, you said that you used photocopies to enlarge your sketches before painting. Do you use any other non-traditional techniques?

I always use strictly tradicional nihonga techniques. Other artists mix these techniques with other, modern ones, but I think that an artist should specialise in one technique in particular, in order to be able to control it completely and thus achieve full expression. Sometimes the use of several techniques produces the sensation of seeing something inconclusive and full of imperfections, because the artist has incorporated many techniques without controlling any of them completely.

Nevertheless, although you always use tradicional techniques, your style seems to have a certain similarity to European Romantic art from the end of the 18th century.

This is not something I seek deliberately. We live in the age of globalization, and even whilst painting using traditional techniques, influences from the past to MTV have their effect on me. Thus my art is the product of the times in which we live, and especially of the style in the air in present-day Japan, and is not backward looking.

Many Japanese artists are clearly influenced by manga. What is your opinion of this trend?

I think manga is an interesting culture, but it is no more than a sub-culture and cannot be considered as art. I would like people to have more appreciation of traditional culture, and to discover that it is a strong, beautiful and erotic art.

Recently you have become a popular figure, with many appearances in fashion magazines and on television, media which would seem to give more importance to your physical appearance than to your art. Are you worried about this banalisation?

I am an artist, not a model. My public appearances are made from the standpoint of an artist, and it is not my problem if others pay more attention to my physical appearance than to my art. In fact, I receive a lot of proposals to make advertisements and appear on television which I systematically refuse.

Takashi Murakami could be considered an example of the “total artist”, with many appearances in the media, and a body of work which is popular and extremely commercial, who frequently collaborates with the big brand names. What is your opinion on this?

My art is not commercial. It is visceral, and probably is not popular with the majority of the public, but I do not intend to change it. On the other hand, if my art as it is were to become extremely popular, I would have no problems in collaborating with a big firm.

Your last exhibition, “Narcissus”, is a clear reference to narcissism. Do you consider yourself to be narcissistic?

Yes, I’m narcissistic, but not in the sense of spending the day looking at myself in the mirror. The word narcissism has negative connotations, but it is simply a mechanism for resisting personal phobia, the result of strengthening personal identity.

Was it a deliberate choice to produce an exhibition based on this subject?

On this occasion, the subject of narcissism was on my mind, and my work reflected this. However, normally it is only after producing a number of works that I perceive the unity and can think of a name for the exhibition.

You say that you have been inspired by classical artists such as Soga Shohaku or Hasegawa Tohaku for some of your works. Was there a particular inspiration for this last exhibition?

There wasn’t a conscious inspiration, nor did I try to follow any particular model. Nevertheless, looking at my paintings afterwards, you can see similarities with anatomical studies from the Edo period, and animal bites are a recurring theme in scrolls dealing with the Buddhist hell (jigoku-e).

Artists such as Tenmyouya Hisashi, Akira Yamaguchi, Mise Natsunosuke or yourself have given rise to a tendency known as neo-nihonga. In addition, you exhibited collectively with some of these artists at the MOT. Is it possible to speak of a group?

I do not think you can really talk about a group, more just of a tendency. Each one of us realises their work independently.

Jorge Larrañaga is art critic and freelance photographer based in Tokyo (Japan).