Julian Opie Interview at London Studio for GINZA SIX
Q. How did you start the project “Marathon. Women.” ?
I looked at photos and videos of the GINZA SIX space and developed the concept for my work using VR simulations. I was impressed by the previous works; they all appeared to be very serious projects. I was also interested in the exhibition environment itself. My starting point was to create a work that would make sense in this bustling space and yet blend in effortlessly. Galleries and museums are like a row of white rooms, but the real world is not like that. Taking art outside and attempting to bring it to the attention of more people in a space like GINZA SIX is an interesting task.
I am quite careful with public art projects. They should be engaging but not annoying. People might wonder, “Why is this huge work of art here?” For example, how would you feel if you saw a sculpture on a cliff overlooking the sea? It would be intrusive and would be an annoying presence that urbanizes the environment.
Works in progress, including pieces related to “Marathon. Women.” (to be exhibited at GINZA SIX) at Julian Opie's studio in Shoreditch, London.
Q. What did you take into consideration about GINZA SIX as the site?
GINZA SIX is located in a very urban environment, and there is an atrium that extends over four floors in the center of the building, from the second to the fifth floor. To take advantage of this space, I thought of hanging artworks from the top of the atrium with cables so that they could be seen from anywhere on the four floors. The atrium itself is rectangular, so the form was designed to fit within it.
The size of the LED screen is about 10 meters long, 8 meters wide, and 1 meter high. It is not overwhelmingly large, but kept to a human scale. It is constructed like a box that is open both above and below, so that one can see in and out when looking up from below, and in and out when looking down from above. From the side, the perspective is as if you are looking at the side of the box.
Q. The actual work is a moving image of female athletes running.
When I was filming people walking in the park, joggers kept passing in front of the camera, and I felt annoyed. But when I reviewed the footage later, I found their movements very interesting. The backpacks, earphones, and water bottles they carried moved rhythmically, and it was a very nice moving image. That made me think of depicting a competitive runner.
Running is a fundamental human activity. Humans used to chase and hunt animals until they became exhausted and collapsed. Our legs, posture, and body structure are optimized for this. Running is a movement that is still deeply rooted in human instinct, and most people can relate to it.
Q. Are your runners modeled on any particular athletes?
I was thinking of contacting a running club in London, then I was approached by Team GB, who wanted me to make some prints for fundraising. It was a total coincidence, like looking for a house and the perfect property appeared. We were looking for runners, and then a team of top athletes showed up.
In return for making prints for them, I was given permission to film the men's and women's teams training on the track. Because they were running so fast, I filmed them about 50 meters away. I think I filmed eight men and eight women passing about 10 times. These still and moving images gave me enough material to work on the project for six months.
The seven runners in “Marathon. Women.” were modeled after athletes from the British Olympic Team.
Q. Why are only female athletes running in the work at GINZA SIX?
Many sports are divided between men and women, so it would seem strange to mix them. We chose the female runner team because we had more usable footage of them. Also, the female runners are slightly slower, so their movements are easier to see on the screen. There was also more visual variety: hair in buns or ponytails, in full-body outfits, or sometimes with midriffs showing.
Artists always encounter social and political issues, and I feel responsible for that. But at the same time, I'm reflecting the reality around me. Men and women compete separately in professional sports. It would have seemed strange to mix genders.
Q. What about the size of the athletes on the screen?
The screen is roughly one metre high, and the runners on it are about half the size of actual people. The smaller an object is, the slower it appears to move. In other words, if a life-sized runner were running, she would appear faster. Because they are about half the size, they appear slower than they actually are, even though they are running at real speed. The composition is natural—someone laps someone who's going slower.
I'm always trying to find natural ways to make decisions, so it feels natural to the viewer. Andy Warhol said, “If you have to make a decision, something is wrong.” Every decision should be a logical step out of the previous one. In reality, we are always making decisions, but I try as much as possible to find that logic.
Prototype of “Marathon. Women.” The runners on the screen are about half the size of actual people, which makes them appear to be running slower than they actually are.
Q. Can you tell us a bit more about “natural ways to make decisions”?
When we try to cross a river, we can only use the boulders in front of us. Rather than deciding, “I'm going to paint this today,” I paint from the flow of what I’ve done so far. Once I get to the halfway point, I can’t change direction—I can only use the boulders I can reach by jumping.
It’s like opening doors into a dark room and learning bit by bit what is usable. Eventually, light appears and I can make works from all these things. However, I can't suddenly decide to become an abstract painter or oil painter. I need to reach those decisions through the path I’ve taken.
Q. Many of your works have the theme of movement.
Movement is one of the richest ingredients of expression, as are colour and scale. You can make something feel exciting, calm, or funny by using movement in different ways. It can make the subject matter more present and alive. If you are reading a book in your room and something moves at the edge of your vision, your brain notices it immediately. It could be someone attacking you, it could be an enemy, it could be a friend. Movement is a powerful signal that tells us to react.
I have used every kind of human movement I can think of: blinking, smiling, dancing, babies crawling, walking, running to catch the bus, athletes running, dancers dancing, drunken Saturday night dancing—each of these movements has a different quality, and the possibilities for expression are endless.
Spring 2025 solo exhibition at Lisson Gallery, New York exploring the walking figure through paintings, sculptures, and animations.
Q. How can LEDs be used to express movement?
The screen for this piece is like a long, thin LED ticker tape showing information such as temperature or stock prices. Displaying information is fundamental to the use of LED technology. In reality, the light simply turns on and off—the light source itself does not move. Yet, the brain perceives this as movement. Animation works the same way. When similar images are shown in succession, the brain perceives them as motion.
In the work for GINZA SIX, for example, the athletes appear to be running across a long screen, though there’s no actual physical movement. Because the LEDs are positioned both inside and outside the screen, viewers can see the runners from different angles—inside and outside. LEDs today are advanced, yet they’re fundamentally similar to ancient mosaics or beadwork—all are systems of display.
Q. Tell us about the element of colour.
Colour is a decorative element, but it’s also something that doesn’t actually exist. Colour is how our brains interpret different wavelengths of light. In reality, we’re seeing wavelengths, not colour itself.
Colour is also a “symbol” that conveys information. The athletes in this project are seven women, each represented by a different colour: red, blue, yellow, green, etc. This means the runners are not seen as individuals, but as part of a team—such as the “red team” or the “blue team.” I think viewers can naturally follow the runners, like “the yellow one” or “the blue one.”
Q. Your work has a consistent style, yet you use a wide range of materials and techniques.
When drawing by hand, I tend to use a thick black felt-tip pen and paper. This, for me, is a very immediate way to express information. In other words, I’m transforming the images in my mind into a visual, structural, physical, and sculptural “language” and putting them into the world. What is a line? What is a drawing? The possibilities are truly endless. There is always room for exploration within that diversity.
Stone, for instance, carries a strong sense of permanence. In my project about children, I carved their images into black granite. The material has a heavy, historic feel, which contrasts with the cuteness of children. I think these two elements can work together to create richer meaning in the work.
There’s often a back-and-forth process, where technology is found to be useful for a particular image. I frequently leapfrog between image and technology, and then from technology back to image. Sometimes, I discover a new technology but can’t use it for several years—until the right image comes along. Conversely, I may have an image in mind, but it can take a long time to find the right technology to realize it.
Work in progress at the artist’s London studio. The series explores the theme of children through materials such as stone and wood and various techniques.
Q. Are you keen to use the latest technology?
The late artist James Rosenquist was a billboard painter, and his paintings were based on billboard images. He said he always referred to imagery that was already a little bit old or used.
I don't want to use the latest technology that nobody has seen, either. The technology would overwhelm the artwork. I only want to use technology for “expression.” When people say, “There's a new technology—you should look at it,” I tend to be a bit suspicious.
I also use lenticular printing in my work, where the picture changes or moves depending on the angle from which you look at it, but this is a technology that has existed since the 19th century. Animation technology also developed around the same time and continues to be used today in the form of cartoons and animated films.
Virtual reality (VR) is a relatively new technology, but I first encountered it through computer games. From headsets to goggles, the VR experience has evolved. It’s fascinating in terms of allowing you to Virtual reality (VR) is a relatively new technology, but I first encountered it through computer games. From headsets to goggles, the VR experience has evolved. It’s fascinating in terms of allowing you to “experience with the whole body.”
One of the LED-based public art installations showcased in Los Angeles and Baltimore to coincide with the artist’s spring 2025 solo exhibition in New York
Q. How do you create experiences through your works?
To enhance the experience through the viewers’ five senses, I have used music in my exhibitions. Instead of hearing footsteps or camera clicks, the audience hears sounds I have chosen. I also added scents to the exhibition, using air fresheners to introduce smells I selected, rather than leaving the space with random scents. This was also meant as an expression of humour.
There are many other ways to experience the world besides the five senses. In particular, spatial awareness is a powerful one. It involves physically feeling the whole space, using a sense of balance and scale. VR can be very useful as a means of reproducing visual and physical experiences in a realistic way. I was using VR as a tool for building exhibitions, but I found that I often enjoy being in virtual space more than being in reality. I am now creating a few exhibitions without any actual artworks in the space; you only experience the exhibition through VR goggles. However, if you think too hard about any method, you may, conversely, realize how incomplete it is.
Q. What are your thoughts on using AI for your work?
I work with and use AI (Artificial Intelligence) as a positive tool rather than seeing it as a threat to creativity. These days, there is software and apps that allow you to convert your photos into a comic book style, as well as those that let AI convert photos into Warhol-style paintings or even Opie-style portraits. You could file a lawsuit over this, but I thought it was interesting. It means that my style is a kind of shareable drawing technology.
Many people have copied the style of manga, and Egyptian drawings were painted within a set of rules kept by generations of artisans over thousands of years. When I think about it, I wonder if my own way of drawing could be considered a “style” rather than just personal expression.
I am currently trying to give AI some rules and have it draw portraits based on them. If successful, the AI can draw portraits of visitors, which will become part of the exhibition on the spot. Portraits are very sensitive regarding usage rights and privacy. The AI-based portrait project will address this issue, as the portraits are created by the visitors themselves, by their own choice. We are planning to present this project as part of an exhibition in Bangalore, India, next year.
The artist is developing a portrait project where an AI converts photos into Opie-style minimalistic portraits.
Q. Could you talk about your connection to Japan?
I have visited Japan many times since the 1990s. I have always been warmly welcomed, and working in Japan is one of my pleasures. My first exhibition was in Nagoya, and from there I began working with galleries in Tokyo and also created public artworks, including some in Takamatsu.
I am also interested in the imagery of Japan and the history of Japanese art. Early in my career, I came across Ukiyo-e prints. I was particularly drawn to Hiroshige and Utamaro, but I also like Harunobu. Rather than wanting to incorporate Ukiyo-e into my own work, I likely recognized an echo of my own interests and style in them.
For example, the black outline of the face in Utamaro's paintings struck me with its natural and clear beauty. Some people may compare my work to Utamaro's style, but for me, Utamaro is a “subject of study.” We all learn by mimicry. Children mimic their parents, mimic their friends. They look at books and mimic what they see and read. That's how we learn and function in the world.
From an exhibition held at Tokyo Opera City Art Gallery in 2019.
Q. You have made works that reference Utamaro and Hiroshige.
I have created a series of portraits referencing Utamaro, using the same composition but with people holding objects like smartphones. I drove around Mount Fuji, roughly following the pathway of the Tokaido, and then made a series of animated films as a tribute to Hiroshige. It started with the idea of what Hiroshige might have done if computer technology had been available.
Hiroshige always references movement in his prints: a flag flying, a bird crossing the sky, children running down a street, rain pouring down on a bridge. Ukiyo-e is a static format, but the movement is always implied. Using technology, I was able to make the rain move, add the sound of rain falling, and have birds flying across the screen.
I'm not suggesting that I am Hiroshige's successor; rather, I make a playful homage that expresses my respect and affection for him. At the British Museum’s exhibition “Hiroshige: Artist of the Open Road,” held from May to September 2025, my work was displayed as that of a contemporary artist influenced by Hiroshige, which was a great honour.
The graphic quality of Japanese art is exceptional, with a consistent style and tradition evident from Ukiyo-e to manga. Looking at the works of early Showa-period woodblock print artists such as Goyo Hashiguchi and Hasui Kawase, a clear artistic lineage emerges from Hiroshige to Hasui to Hayao Miyazaki.
My strongest inspiration as a child was Hergé's “The Adventures of Tintin. ” In a way, French-language manga, so to speak, are works of art with a narrative and a visual language. Hergé and Warhol were friends, and Warhol drew pictures of Hergé. They were also interested in Hiroshige. I am honoured to be part of this chain of influences and references.
“View of Nambu Bridge from Route 52” (2007) from a series paying tribute to Hiroshige. Computer animation depicting a scene of rippling water and cars crossing the iron bridge.
Q. Is there something you want to convey to viewers through your work?
I am often asked what I think people will take away from looking at my work. I don't have a clear answer, but to be honest, it’s not really my business. I see myself as a toddler playing in a sandpit or an explorer discovering a new world. I’m not there to tell others what to think or guide anyone’s thought process. Showing my work is more like an invitation to join me in playing, investigating, or simply looking at things.
I'm not very good at expressing myself in words—drawing is my craft. I don't particularly like having explanatory texts beside my works, nor do I favour audio guides offering explanations. There are no hidden messages, alternative logics, or stories that have to be understood.
That said, I do feel a desire to share what I’ve created. I want to show it to people, rather than keep it wrapped up and stored in the basement. Yet after exhibiting my work, I don’t hang around to watch how people view it. I’m not a musician who interacts with an audience or encourages people to clap along. There are no performance elements in my work—I’m not good at that, and I’m too shy.
What I can do is create things that are engaging and interesting to look at. It would be good if something comes out of that and transfers to other things.
The top floor of the artist’s studio showcases his art collection, which spans ancient Egyptian, Japanese, 17th- and 18th-century European, and contemporary art.
Q. Have you had an experience of art “transferring” to other things?
I collect different kinds of art—contemporary, ancient, Japanese, and 17th- and 18th-century European. I become interested in things because they seem to jump out at me, probably because they relate to what I am making or show me what I could create.
Recently, I went to see the Yoshitomo Nara exhibition in London with my daughter. On the way home on the underground, we both laughed because everyone around us looked like Nara’s characters. We took the logic, mood, and style of the exhibition and projected them onto the world around us. To me, that’s a sign that the art resonated deeply—Nara’s works touched something within us, affected our perspectives, and changed how we see the world.
Some artists may consider a work “complete” once it is finished and leaves their hands. However, I do not consider a work “complete” until it is placed in front of someone and an interaction starts between the work and the viewer. For me, that shared “experience” is everything. I hope many visitors will come to GINZA SIX to look at my “Marathon. Women.” and feel free to accept it, reject it, or laugh at it. All of these reactions are valuable and form the essence of the work itself.
（2025.6 Interview）
Photos: Norman Wilcox-Geissen
Interview & Text: Megumi Yamashita(Architabi)
Direction in London: Runa Anzai(kontakt)
Production & Editing direction: Yuka Okada(81)
Q. How did you start the project “Marathon. Women.” ?
I looked at photos and videos of the GINZA SIX space and developed the concept for my work using VR simulations. I was impressed by the previous works; they all appeared to be very serious projects. I was also interested in the exhibition environment itself. My starting point was to create a work that would make sense in this bustling space and yet blend in effortlessly. Galleries and museums are like a row of white rooms, but the real world is not like that. Taking art outside and attempting to bring it to the attention of more people in a space like GINZA SIX is an interesting task.
I am quite careful with public art projects. They should be engaging but not annoying. People might wonder, “Why is this huge work of art here?” For example, how would you feel if you saw a sculpture on a cliff overlooking the sea? It would be intrusive and would be an annoying presence that urbanizes the environment.
Works in progress, including pieces related to “Marathon. Women.” (to be exhibited at GINZA SIX) at Julian Opie's studio in Shoreditch, London.
Q. What did you take into consideration about GINZA SIX as the site?
GINZA SIX is located in a very urban environment, and there is an atrium that extends over four floors in the center of the building, from the second to the fifth floor. To take advantage of this space, I thought of hanging artworks from the top of the atrium with cables so that they could be seen from anywhere on the four floors. The atrium itself is rectangular, so the form was designed to fit within it.
The size of the LED screen is about 10 meters long, 8 meters wide, and 1 meter high. It is not overwhelmingly large, but kept to a human scale. It is constructed like a box that is open both above and below, so that one can see in and out when looking up from below, and in and out when looking down from above. From the side, the perspective is as if you are looking at the side of the box.
Q. The actual work is a moving image of female athletes running.
When I was filming people walking in the park, joggers kept passing in front of the camera, and I felt annoyed. But when I reviewed the footage later, I found their movements very interesting. The backpacks, earphones, and water bottles they carried moved rhythmically, and it was a very nice moving image. That made me think of depicting a competitive runner.
Running is a fundamental human activity. Humans used to chase and hunt animals until they became exhausted and collapsed. Our legs, posture, and body structure are optimized for this. Running is a movement that is still deeply rooted in human instinct, and most people can relate to it.
Q. Are your runners modeled on any particular athletes?
I was thinking of contacting a running club in London, then I was approached by Team GB, who wanted me to make some prints for fundraising. It was a total coincidence, like looking for a house and the perfect property appeared. We were looking for runners, and then a team of top athletes showed up.
In return for making prints for them, I was given permission to film the men's and women's teams training on the track. Because they were running so fast, I filmed them about 50 meters away. I think I filmed eight men and eight women passing about 10 times. These still and moving images gave me enough material to work on the project for six months.
The seven runners in “Marathon. Women.” were modeled after athletes from the British Olympic Team.
Q. Why are only female athletes running in the work at GINZA SIX?
Many sports are divided between men and women, so it would seem strange to mix them. We chose the female runner team because we had more usable footage of them. Also, the female runners are slightly slower, so their movements are easier to see on the screen. There was also more visual variety: hair in buns or ponytails, in full-body outfits, or sometimes with midriffs showing.
Artists always encounter social and political issues, and I feel responsible for that. But at the same time, I'm reflecting the reality around me. Men and women compete separately in professional sports. It would have seemed strange to mix genders.
Q. What about the size of the athletes on the screen?
The screen is roughly one metre high, and the runners on it are about half the size of actual people. The smaller an object is, the slower it appears to move. In other words, if a life-sized runner were running, she would appear faster. Because they are about half the size, they appear slower than they actually are, even though they are running at real speed. The composition is natural—someone laps someone who's going slower.
I'm always trying to find natural ways to make decisions, so it feels natural to the viewer. Andy Warhol said, “If you have to make a decision, something is wrong.” Every decision should be a logical step out of the previous one. In reality, we are always making decisions, but I try as much as possible to find that logic.
Prototype of “Marathon. Women.” The runners on the screen are about half the size of actual people, which makes them appear to be running slower than they actually are.
Q. Can you tell us a bit more about “natural ways to make decisions”?
When we try to cross a river, we can only use the boulders in front of us. Rather than deciding, “I'm going to paint this today,” I paint from the flow of what I’ve done so far. Once I get to the halfway point, I can’t change direction—I can only use the boulders I can reach by jumping.
It’s like opening doors into a dark room and learning bit by bit what is usable. Eventually, light appears and I can make works from all these things. However, I can't suddenly decide to become an abstract painter or oil painter. I need to reach those decisions through the path I’ve taken.
Q. Many of your works have the theme of movement.
Movement is one of the richest ingredients of expression, as are colour and scale. You can make something feel exciting, calm, or funny by using movement in different ways. It can make the subject matter more present and alive. If you are reading a book in your room and something moves at the edge of your vision, your brain notices it immediately. It could be someone attacking you, it could be an enemy, it could be a friend. Movement is a powerful signal that tells us to react.
I have used every kind of human movement I can think of: blinking, smiling, dancing, babies crawling, walking, running to catch the bus, athletes running, dancers dancing, drunken Saturday night dancing—each of these movements has a different quality, and the possibilities for expression are endless.
Spring 2025 solo exhibition at Lisson Gallery, New York exploring the walking figure through paintings, sculptures, and animations.
Q. How can LEDs be used to express movement?
The screen for this piece is like a long, thin LED ticker tape showing information such as temperature or stock prices. Displaying information is fundamental to the use of LED technology. In reality, the light simply turns on and off—the light source itself does not move. Yet, the brain perceives this as movement. Animation works the same way. When similar images are shown in succession, the brain perceives them as motion.
In the work for GINZA SIX, for example, the athletes appear to be running across a long screen, though there’s no actual physical movement. Because the LEDs are positioned both inside and outside the screen, viewers can see the runners from different angles—inside and outside. LEDs today are advanced, yet they’re fundamentally similar to ancient mosaics or beadwork—all are systems of display.
Q. Tell us about the element of colour.
Colour is a decorative element, but it’s also something that doesn’t actually exist. Colour is how our brains interpret different wavelengths of light. In reality, we’re seeing wavelengths, not colour itself.
Colour is also a “symbol” that conveys information. The athletes in this project are seven women, each represented by a different colour: red, blue, yellow, green, etc. This means the runners are not seen as individuals, but as part of a team—such as the “red team” or the “blue team.” I think viewers can naturally follow the runners, like “the yellow one” or “the blue one.”
Q. Your work has a consistent style, yet you use a wide range of materials and techniques.
When drawing by hand, I tend to use a thick black felt-tip pen and paper. This, for me, is a very immediate way to express information. In other words, I’m transforming the images in my mind into a visual, structural, physical, and sculptural “language” and putting them into the world. What is a line? What is a drawing? The possibilities are truly endless. There is always room for exploration within that diversity.
Stone, for instance, carries a strong sense of permanence. In my project about children, I carved their images into black granite. The material has a heavy, historic feel, which contrasts with the cuteness of children. I think these two elements can work together to create richer meaning in the work.
There’s often a back-and-forth process, where technology is found to be useful for a particular image. I frequently leapfrog between image and technology, and then from technology back to image. Sometimes, I discover a new technology but can’t use it for several years—until the right image comes along. Conversely, I may have an image in mind, but it can take a long time to find the right technology to realize it.
Work in progress at the artist’s London studio. The series explores the theme of children through materials such as stone and wood and various techniques.
Q. Are you keen to use the latest technology?
The late artist James Rosenquist was a billboard painter, and his paintings were based on billboard images. He said he always referred to imagery that was already a little bit old or used.
I don't want to use the latest technology that nobody has seen, either. The technology would overwhelm the artwork. I only want to use technology for “expression.” When people say, “There's a new technology—you should look at it,” I tend to be a bit suspicious.
I also use lenticular printing in my work, where the picture changes or moves depending on the angle from which you look at it, but this is a technology that has existed since the 19th century. Animation technology also developed around the same time and continues to be used today in the form of cartoons and animated films.
Virtual reality (VR) is a relatively new technology, but I first encountered it through computer games. From headsets to goggles, the VR experience has evolved. It’s fascinating in terms of allowing you to Virtual reality (VR) is a relatively new technology, but I first encountered it through computer games. From headsets to goggles, the VR experience has evolved. It’s fascinating in terms of allowing you to “experience with the whole body.”
One of the LED-based public art installations showcased in Los Angeles and Baltimore to coincide with the artist’s spring 2025 solo exhibition in New York
Q. How do you create experiences through your works?
To enhance the experience through the viewers’ five senses, I have used music in my exhibitions. Instead of hearing footsteps or camera clicks, the audience hears sounds I have chosen. I also added scents to the exhibition, using air fresheners to introduce smells I selected, rather than leaving the space with random scents. This was also meant as an expression of humour.
There are many other ways to experience the world besides the five senses. In particular, spatial awareness is a powerful one. It involves physically feeling the whole space, using a sense of balance and scale. VR can be very useful as a means of reproducing visual and physical experiences in a realistic way. I was using VR as a tool for building exhibitions, but I found that I often enjoy being in virtual space more than being in reality. I am now creating a few exhibitions without any actual artworks in the space; you only experience the exhibition through VR goggles. However, if you think too hard about any method, you may, conversely, realize how incomplete it is.
Q. What are your thoughts on using AI for your work?
I work with and use AI (Artificial Intelligence) as a positive tool rather than seeing it as a threat to creativity. These days, there is software and apps that allow you to convert your photos into a comic book style, as well as those that let AI convert photos into Warhol-style paintings or even Opie-style portraits. You could file a lawsuit over this, but I thought it was interesting. It means that my style is a kind of shareable drawing technology.
Many people have copied the style of manga, and Egyptian drawings were painted within a set of rules kept by generations of artisans over thousands of years. When I think about it, I wonder if my own way of drawing could be considered a “style” rather than just personal expression.
I am currently trying to give AI some rules and have it draw portraits based on them. If successful, the AI can draw portraits of visitors, which will become part of the exhibition on the spot. Portraits are very sensitive regarding usage rights and privacy. The AI-based portrait project will address this issue, as the portraits are created by the visitors themselves, by their own choice. We are planning to present this project as part of an exhibition in Bangalore, India, next year.
The artist is developing a portrait project where an AI converts photos into Opie-style minimalistic portraits.
Q. Could you talk about your connection to Japan?
I have visited Japan many times since the 1990s. I have always been warmly welcomed, and working in Japan is one of my pleasures. My first exhibition was in Nagoya, and from there I began working with galleries in Tokyo and also created public artworks, including some in Takamatsu.
I am also interested in the imagery of Japan and the history of Japanese art. Early in my career, I came across Ukiyo-e prints. I was particularly drawn to Hiroshige and Utamaro, but I also like Harunobu. Rather than wanting to incorporate Ukiyo-e into my own work, I likely recognized an echo of my own interests and style in them.
For example, the black outline of the face in Utamaro's paintings struck me with its natural and clear beauty. Some people may compare my work to Utamaro's style, but for me, Utamaro is a “subject of study.” We all learn by mimicry. Children mimic their parents, mimic their friends. They look at books and mimic what they see and read. That's how we learn and function in the world.
From an exhibition held at Tokyo Opera City Art Gallery in 2019.
Q. You have made works that reference Utamaro and Hiroshige.
I have created a series of portraits referencing Utamaro, using the same composition but with people holding objects like smartphones. I drove around Mount Fuji, roughly following the pathway of the Tokaido, and then made a series of animated films as a tribute to Hiroshige. It started with the idea of what Hiroshige might have done if computer technology had been available.
Hiroshige always references movement in his prints: a flag flying, a bird crossing the sky, children running down a street, rain pouring down on a bridge. Ukiyo-e is a static format, but the movement is always implied. Using technology, I was able to make the rain move, add the sound of rain falling, and have birds flying across the screen.
I'm not suggesting that I am Hiroshige's successor; rather, I make a playful homage that expresses my respect and affection for him. At the British Museum’s exhibition “Hiroshige: Artist of the Open Road,” held from May to September 2025, my work was displayed as that of a contemporary artist influenced by Hiroshige, which was a great honour.
The graphic quality of Japanese art is exceptional, with a consistent style and tradition evident from Ukiyo-e to manga. Looking at the works of early Showa-period woodblock print artists such as Goyo Hashiguchi and Hasui Kawase, a clear artistic lineage emerges from Hiroshige to Hasui to Hayao Miyazaki.
My strongest inspiration as a child was Hergé's “The Adventures of Tintin. ” In a way, French-language manga, so to speak, are works of art with a narrative and a visual language. Hergé and Warhol were friends, and Warhol drew pictures of Hergé. They were also interested in Hiroshige. I am honoured to be part of this chain of influences and references.
“View of Nambu Bridge from Route 52” (2007) from a series paying tribute to Hiroshige. Computer animation depicting a scene of rippling water and cars crossing the iron bridge.
Q. Is there something you want to convey to viewers through your work?
I am often asked what I think people will take away from looking at my work. I don't have a clear answer, but to be honest, it’s not really my business. I see myself as a toddler playing in a sandpit or an explorer discovering a new world. I’m not there to tell others what to think or guide anyone’s thought process. Showing my work is more like an invitation to join me in playing, investigating, or simply looking at things.
I'm not very good at expressing myself in words—drawing is my craft. I don't particularly like having explanatory texts beside my works, nor do I favour audio guides offering explanations. There are no hidden messages, alternative logics, or stories that have to be understood.
That said, I do feel a desire to share what I’ve created. I want to show it to people, rather than keep it wrapped up and stored in the basement. Yet after exhibiting my work, I don’t hang around to watch how people view it. I’m not a musician who interacts with an audience or encourages people to clap along. There are no performance elements in my work—I’m not good at that, and I’m too shy.
What I can do is create things that are engaging and interesting to look at. It would be good if something comes out of that and transfers to other things.
The top floor of the artist’s studio showcases his art collection, which spans ancient Egyptian, Japanese, 17th- and 18th-century European, and contemporary art.
Q. Have you had an experience of art “transferring” to other things?
I collect different kinds of art—contemporary, ancient, Japanese, and 17th- and 18th-century European. I become interested in things because they seem to jump out at me, probably because they relate to what I am making or show me what I could create.
Recently, I went to see the Yoshitomo Nara exhibition in London with my daughter. On the way home on the underground, we both laughed because everyone around us looked like Nara’s characters. We took the logic, mood, and style of the exhibition and projected them onto the world around us. To me, that’s a sign that the art resonated deeply—Nara’s works touched something within us, affected our perspectives, and changed how we see the world.
Some artists may consider a work “complete” once it is finished and leaves their hands. However, I do not consider a work “complete” until it is placed in front of someone and an interaction starts between the work and the viewer. For me, that shared “experience” is everything. I hope many visitors will come to GINZA SIX to look at my “Marathon. Women.” and feel free to accept it, reject it, or laugh at it. All of these reactions are valuable and form the essence of the work itself.
（2025.6 Interview）
Photos: Norman Wilcox-Geissen
Interview & Text: Megumi Yamashita(Architabi)
Direction in London: Runa Anzai(kontakt)
Production & Editing direction: Yuka Okada(81)
「Marathon. Women.」