Interview with Nihonga artist, Rie Saito. Saito will hold a solo exhibition at Isetan Urawa Store starting December 4, 2024. Please enjoy reading this interview by the art consultant Takashi Watari!
Related article: Interview with artist, Rie Saito (part 1)
Related article: Interview with artist, Rie Saito (part 2)
Painting as a hobby never crossed my mind – Interview with Nihonga artist, Rie Saito
Ideas come to me at night; I make refined sketches in the morning.
Your solo exhibition is coming up soon and I understand you must be busy. What kind of schedule do you keep every day?
I used to plan my schedule around my part-time job, but now that I can focus on my art, I get up at 9 am and paint until 2 pm. I don’t eat much for breakfast; I try to eat onigiri when I can.
From 2 pm to 4 pm, I make my lunch and do household chores. I paint again between 4 pm to 8 pm. Then, I have dinner and take a bath at 10 pm. Afterward — and I know this isn’t good, but especially before exhibitions — I stay up until 2 am painting.
Right, it’s crunch time before your solo exhibition. Previously, you mentioned that your evenings were focused on Kotsugaki (outline drawings using Sumi ink before adding color).
I used to do that, but recently I’ve been generating most of my ideas at night. My thoughts are calmer in the mornings, and I found it to be better suited for things like Kotsugaki. I usually think about what I want to draw in the evenings after 8 pm. The next morning, I transfer the draft onto tracing paper and make a clean copy, then go straight to work on the outlines.
I see, so you have a regular rhythm for your paintings?
My schedule used to be much more haphazard, but I’ve gotten to a place where I’m able to hold exhibitions, which also means I have to create more paintings and thus have gotten into a regular routine. I’m not a morning person, so I get going around 9 am. It’s a little later than I’d like, but this pace works best for me and allows me to concentrate better in the evenings.
Things to consider when holding a solo exhibition
When you’ve decided to hold a solo exhibition, where do you start your thought process? Things such as theme, what you want to draw, how many, etc.
I think it’s a really good idea to decide on a theme first. In a group exhibition, I usually look at finished paintings and think of a theme based on them. For solo exhibitions, I like to deliberate on a theme first; “Dragon’s Palace” or “Amusement Parks” for example. Then, focusing on the theme, I come up with ideas from scratch, draft them out, and then finally turn them into a painting.
The mermaid princess, a traditionally European concept, is depicted with black hair and a scarlet carp for the lower half of her body. The crab is holding cherry blossoms in both of its claws; is it admiring the cherry blossoms or the princess? The artist not only changes the motif to one of Japanese, but she also creates a piece overflowing with Wa, a Japanese sentiment.
Do you have a number of things you keep in mind and choose the theme from that list, or do you wait for inspiration to strike you?
This may sound contradictory to how I described my process, but there was a time when I liked painting mermaids, goldfish, and other water creatures. I wondered what these creatures had in common and came up with the theme of “Dragon’s Palace”.
This year’s exhibition theme is “Reiwa’s Ryu-Gu-Jo 2”, which follows last year’s “Reiwa’s Ryu-Gu-Jo”. How did you decide upon that?
I thought that my fans would like a continuing series, and that’s how I decided on this year’s theme.
Do you think about the number of works or their dimensions for the collection?
Having done a solo exhibition at this venue before is a huge bonus since I know how to showcase the room and wall space. I will prepare more pieces. While I understand that the smaller-sized pieces are easier for customers to display in their homes, I think it’s much more enjoyable to have work with a variety of dimensions in a gallery space. Having a good mix of sizes, in addition to a variety of shapes — both vertical and horizontal — prevents the venue from feeling monotonous. I put a lot of thought into it for this exhibition. There will be vertical, horizontal, and square pieces.
Once you come up with ideas for the paintings, is that when you think about whether you want to showcase them vertically or horizontally?
I don’t think about whether I want to draw a vertical or horizontal painting, but rather as an idea of what size or aspect ratio would be best for the particular painting. Having a variety of dimensions for the venue is key, but in the end, I have an idea when I’m painting and I draw it in such a way that I think would look good.
You have a good collection of water-related motifs such as carp and goldfish, as mentioned earlier.
Yes, but it’s not like I’m trying to focus on water-related creatures.
Changes in character themes – from mysterious to auspicious
Your previous paintings featured Kappa and mermaids, whereas your recent pieces feature different creatures, such as dragons from the zodiac, goldfish, and carp motifs. These recent motifs could be considered more auspicious — what’s your take on it?
Perhaps there was a part of me that was attracted to the shadowy element. I’ve personally experienced many worries and anxiety in the past, and I felt a strong kinship with things that lived in the dark such as Yokai during that time. That was partly why I worked with those themes. Recently, my perspective has gradually shifted to that of the viewer, and it’s important to me for the viewer to enjoy the paintings as well.
The auspicious red and white-bodied dragon holds not treasure balls, but fireworks with its claws. The fireworks have the “celebration” inscription, and the dragon is setting it off.
I’ve always liked Japanese folktales, Grimm’s, and other Western fairy tales. These stories usually include Yokai, monsters, and gods. I was interested in the creatures that appeared and transformed in those fairy tales and I used them as themes. When I was younger, I was more interested in Yokai and other creatures of darkness, but I’ve recently preferred gods or other creatures that bring luck or are auspicious.
How do you go about researching auspicious creatures? Do you use books and other literature, or do you go in person to learn about the stories?
I like collecting books about this theme. I have some about Chinese lucky charms, some of which I haven’t seen in Japan. I’m interested in fortune-telling and have books in that field as well.
Occasionally, I get ideas from illustrated reference books, even though it’s not exactly academic research. Ukiyo-e prints are helpful as well, and I’ve been referencing them a lot lately. For example, I wanted to know why the motif of grapes and squirrels are recurring themes in Ukiyo-e, and I discovered that grapes (budou) and squirrels (risu) are two living organisms that were favored by warriors because of its wordplay “discipline (ritsu) in martial arts (budou) ”. It becomes an opportunity for me to apply the knowledge and ideas I’ve gained from viewing other paintings to my work.
An image comes to mind, then you give it a title that makes you chuckle.
You’re an artist who is known for paintings born from wordplay. Some examples are titles such as Hipparidako (being in great demand, or a pulled octopus), Unagi Nobori (rapid increase, or a climbing eel), and Uki Uki Ryu (cheerful, or floating).
The paintings are often literal meanings of the wordplay — do you think of the words first, then come up with the image?
For me, the image comes first, then I apply it to the wordplay. I wait until the painting is completed, look at the finished picture, and search for a word that’s fitting as its title. This is quite by coincidence.
Almost like a copywriter.
Maybe I might have a hidden talent there! On the other side, when I hear of painters who make drawings that are inspired by words, I think it’s amazing.
That’s very interesting. But for most people, the picture of Uki Uki Ryu (Floating Dragon) — quite literally a dragon floating in the sky with balloons — doesn’t usually come to mind.
Dragons typically fly on their own, but I thought it would be adorable for there to be a dragon that enjoys flying with the use of balloons. In Japan and China, dragons are noted for their formidable image similar to a god, which is difficult to blend into everyday life. For the owner of this painting, I wanted a more endearing dragon instead of a scary-looking dragon hung on the owner’s wall and welcoming them back to their home, so I came up with this.
Is it the same idea for the Koi no Taki Nobori (Carp Climbing a Waterfall) to become Unagi no Taki Nobori (Eel Climbing a Waterfall) and finally to Unagi Nobori (Climbing Eel)?
The Unagi Nobori was inspired because I wanted to make a painting that’s a nod to the locals of Urawa, Saitama, which is famous for its eel restaurants.
The waterfall is illustrated with a gradation of vertical lines in a long and narrow composition. The addition of Ukiyo-e style waves adds variety and momentum to this painting.
Ah, Urawa is famous for its eel restaurants!
When I did a little more research, it turned out that eels do climb waterfalls.
A video starts playing in your head? That doesn’t happen to others, my mother said.
When do those ideas come to you? Is it at night when you’re straining to think about what to paint, or does it just come to you at random in your daily life?
Ideas can pop up at pretty much any time. I think about what it is, what it means, and then start drawing. Images and ideas come to me very clearly in my head, but it’s not in the form of a finished painting, — more like a movie.
Kind of like a movie playing in your head?
Yes, that’s right. The video playing in my head was too distracting when I used to work part-time. I might have been working at a factory or a restaurant, but in my head, there would be strange and mythical creatures appearing and doing all sorts of things incessantly. I thought everyone else also experienced this to some extent and wondered how they controlled it, only to find out it wasn’t like that for others, not even my mother. It was unnerving, but at the same time, it’s always been like that for me, so I just kept it in check and went on as usual. I practiced and trained myself to focus, and am now able to go about my daily life without too many distractions.
Looking back at my notebooks from elementary school, there were Pokemon and other doodles typical of an elementary school kid, but there was also a woman with a naked upper body, which could be seen as eccentric. In second and third grade, I used to draw naked women and mermaids. The motifs themselves haven’t changed much.
If I were to paint a dragon for profit, I wouldn’t be able to do that. Instead, I just try to capture the image that comes to my mind, like in the instance of the dragon in a fluffy sky. The ideas just keep coming to me, so I’m never worried about that part. I used to think this imaginative brain was a problem, but recently have come to appreciate it.
If I don’t output the images, it’s disruptive having them all move around on their own. Instead, by putting these images down on paper and drawing, I can clear my head and everyday life becomes a lot more manageable.
When you draw the rough sketch, do you have a concept in your mind already, or do the composition, colors or other things change?
My method is to make a relatively detailed rough draft, so once I get it down on paper, I just go with it. I don’t make too many changes during the process. Once I’ve created a rough sketch, I go with that initial image. For some reason, colors work better if I follow my instincts and work straight from my image, rather than by theory.
I heard a story that you won a freehand circle drawing competition. Can you tell me a little about that?
I was asked to draw a circle at my cram school, and I guess my circle was quite accurate. The cram school chose mine to represent them in a math competition (Practical Mathematics Proficiency Test). I didn’t win the competition, but I placed high and received a commemorative gift. I wasn’t consciously trying to draw a perfect circle though.
Does that mean that for you, it’s not as difficult to make a line drawing from a concrete image that comes to your mind?
On my part, it feels like I’m just receiving whatever image pops into my mind. All the sketching practice I was doing in art prep school helped me a lot. Without that, I wouldn’t have been able to draw so well. People tend to think that my paintings have nothing to do with sketches, but I couldn’t have done it without my drawing skills. I think I’m able to draw a variety of creatures because I spent a great deal of time and focus developing my sketching skills.
I’ve always been drawn to painters whose ideas are original
Are there any painters who have had an influence on you? I remember you mentioned being incredibly moved by Tawaraya Sotatsu’s The Wind and Thunder Gods; do you have any other favorites?
Back in middle school, I got into Escher’s paintings. You know, the optical illusion painter, with perpetual motion of water, or ones that feature birds and tessellations.
The Trompe l’oeil drawings.
I was also drawn to René Magritte’s paintings after seeing his works at the Utsunomiya Museum of Art. It was unusual and exceptional, not due to the intensity of the drawing, but because the painting itself is completely unexpected.
This one isn’t a painter, but I’m also a fan of Shinichi Hoshi. His creativity makes a huge impact, even with short sentences. That’s why I got into René Magritte and Shinichi Hoshi. Osamu Tezuka and Grimm’s Fairy Tales were my favorites as well. I loved the short manga that Osamu Tezuka wrote.
What about Dali or other surrealist painters?
Dali is visually impressive because he expresses something that I don’t understand. René Magritte is more convincing for me. It’s like there’s a rift between reality and another world, and you’re jumping from reality to a supernatural space. I feel more of a kinship with René Magritte. With Dali, his paintings demonstrate his brilliance, and I think they’re great, but I only like them an average amount.
You often paint goldfish. Speaking of goldfish, Kuniyoshi Utagawa is famous for his Kingyo Zukushi (An Assortment of Goldfish). I thought perhaps your goldfish paintings served as an homage to that of Utagawa’s and wondered if I could ask about that.
I actually didn’t know Kuniyoshi Utagawa, and was wondering who he was when I was told that my paintings resembled his. It was only later that I learned he was an Ukiyo-e artist. I painted the goldfish around the time I painted Mana Ita no Koi (Carp on a Cutting board), or shortly thereafter. When I showed that painting to people around me, I got comments that it was similar to Kuniyoshi’s work. That’s when I started looking at Kuniyoshi’s paintings.
As I recall, my father was fond of Ukiyo-e and would often go to the Ota Memorial Museum of Art and other museums to collect pamphlets. I was a small child then and must’ve looked at them without remembering the artists. I thought the pamphlets were quite interesting and I used to look at them, so I think I was probably unconsciously influenced by it.
I see, perhaps looking at the pamphlets as a young child later surfaced in your mind in the form of goldfish sports day, Bon Festival Dance, fireworks viewing and other pictures of goldfish illustrated with the four seasons?
That might be the case. It was something that just popped into my mind on its own. It wasn’t like I was trying to draw goldfish in combination with seasonal customs, but my childhood and seasonal memories showed up in my drawings.
Do you conduct research for your paintings? Last time, for example, you used both the Tone River fireworks and the wooden roller coaster “Regina II” at Tobu Zoo as motifs.
Oh yes, I go quite a bit. At the Saitama Aquarium (Hanyu City, Saitama), where freshwater fish are the main attraction, there are plenty of koi. I also go to the Art Aquarium Museum (Chuo-ku, Tokyo) to see goldfish. I’m the kind of person who can’t paint unless something moves me, and I try to go there regularly.
I also try to go and look at flowers, because I can’t paint them without seeing them. I see lotus flowers at Kodai Hasu no Sato (Ancient Lotus Village, Gyoda City, Saitama), and for irises, I visit Shobu Joshi Ayame En (Kuki City, Saitama), near where I live. I also go to Ashikaga Flower Park (Ashikaga City, Tochigi) to see a variety of flowers in bloom.
What are you into these days?
I’ve gotten into Ukiyo-e recently. I became a member of the International Ukiyo-e Society and I attended an academic conference a few days ago to hear a talk being given.
Which Ukiyo-e artists draw your attention?
I’m interested in Kuniyoshi Utagawa, Kyosai Kawanabe, and Yoshitoshi Tsukioka. In high school, I was more of a fan of the Rimpa school of painting, but now I’ve turned to Ukiyo-e. As I mentioned, my interests started with Escher and Magritte, then turned to Tawaraya Sotatsu of the Rimpa school. My tastes and interests vary and change over time.
I think there’s an underlying commonality there. Escher, René Magritte, and the Ukiyo-e painters near the end of the Edo period all have something in common in terms of playfulness, unexpectedness, and the enjoyment of painting freely.
You might be right. I don’t use the paintings as a reference, but I think it’s a combination of things I liked and saw often that surfaced on its own.
Painting as a hobby never crossed my mind
In the previous interview, we talked about the six arduous years you spent preparing to take the entrance exam. It requires massive effort, energy, time, and mental strength. What would you say you learned through the process?
On the technical side of things, I’ve benefited from developing the skills for the fundamentals of drawing, painting conventions, and compositions. One of my strengths is that I can immediately put those images in my head together into a painting, owing to those years of training.
On the mental and spiritual side, my days back then were so harrowing that now I feel ready for anything since I overcame that part of my life. You can tell by my paintings that the darkness in my mind has disappeared. Even when I draw monsters, the fear and grief aren’t there anymore since that fundamental part of myself has shifted. I used to have a very anxious and negative mindset throughout elementary and middle school, constantly plagued by worries that something might happen. Now that I’ve experienced failing the college entrance exam six times, I feel that there’s not much worse that can happen, and even so, I can probably get through it. It’s as if having suffered a major injury and survived, everything else seems to feel like just a scratch.
I understand you persisted to enter Tokyo University of the Arts (Tokyo Geidai) because you wanted to become a professional painter, but did you ever wonder if it would have sufficed to paint as a hobby?
There were times when I thought about quitting painting, but something kept me from stopping. I’ve been painting for too long, I think. It never occurred to me to paint as a hobby.
So you were determined to become a professional painter, if you wanted to keep on painting?
In a sense, yes. It wasn’t that I was consciously deciding to make painting my job, but rather that it never occurred to me to have another occupation and paint on the side as a hobby.
You’re on your way to establishing yourself as a painter. How have the support and cheerleading from your friends and family been?
I went to high school with a fine arts program, and when I told my parents about my decision to go there, they readily agreed. I think they were happy to hear me say I wanted to do something because I’d really only been interested in art and never asked for anything before. They really supported me during this transition time. Financially speaking, my grandmother supported me, but she wasn’t supportive of the idea. She merely thinks that if I want to do it, then I should just go try it. Deep inside, she seems to think it would be better if I were to go work at a company and paint as a hobby. I’m grateful that my parents, who are the closest to me, are both very supportive and understanding, and that’s why I’m able to continue painting. My younger brother cheers me on and is supportive as well.
My high school friends were people who, like me, attended the fine arts program. The acceptance rate for an arts university was extremely low, which meant that we were all friends and rivals, especially when it came to school grades and test scores. Despite that, high school life was normal, fun, and a genuinely good environment.
How do you feel about spending your days as a painter now?
I’m incredibly grateful to be able to have made my passion my profession. I still wonder how the world of art will grow for me personally in the future. I wouldn’t go so far as to say that I’m worried, but I hope to go beyond selling paintings. I hope that my future will include drawing book covers, illustrations, and other print media.
I hope people will enjoy coming to see my year-end exhibition
Similar to last year, this solo exhibition will be held just before the New Year. Is there anything in particular that you’d like the attendees to see in your work?
The word Hippari Dako is used here as a wordplay to mean being sought after. Perhaps this would be the illustrated definition. The picture is one of good luck, and it’s also fun to imagine what’s going on with the octopuses. This Nihonga painting is completed in the style of Ukiyo-e woodblock prints, with antique colors applied to the paper.
In my previous exhibition, we put an emphasis on good luck. Since the New Year’s holiday will soon be upon us, I hope that people will enjoy seeing paintings like Shishimai (lion dance), Unagi Nobori (Climbing Eel), and Hippari Dako (Pulled Octopus) and welcome the New Year on a positive note.
Next year is the year of the snake in Japan. Will you have any pieces related to snakes?
I have about four pieces. You’ll have to wait and see them at the venue. I think people will have fun seeing them, and it’ll make those born in the year of the snake extra happy!
I look forward to seeing your paintings at the solo exhibition. We can’t help but chuckle when seeing your unique ideas come through the paintings. Thank you very much for your time today.
(Interviewed and written by Takashi Watari, Art Consultant)
Rie Saito, Nihonga artist bio
The artist trained her technique by repeatedly sketching realistic drawings during her entrance exam years. Since then, she has shifted from drawing realistic objects to the images that pop up in her mind. The images are diverse, ranging from kappa, mermaids, and other yokai (monsters) creatures to dragons, phoenixes, and other god-like beings. Despite the somber subject matter, nothing is frightening or horrifying about the paintings — the creatures have quirky and somewhat comical expressions on their faces. The anthropomorphic carp and goldfish have a playful quality that’s reminiscent of Choju Giga (Animal Caricatures) and Ukiyo-e by Kuniyoshi Utagawa.
The paintings are titled with wordplays, and we can’t help but smile upon seeing the unexpected combination of the painting and the title. Many of the paintings are also inspired by traditional Japanese and Chinese auspicious beliefs, good fortune, and longevity. The artist has put a lot of thought into bringing together the joy of seeing the paintings and wishing happiness to those who buy them.
The artist’s creative ideas expand from one series to the next and we can certainly expect great things from her in the future.
1990 Born in Tokyo, resides in Saitama
2020 Graduated from Kyoto University of the Arts, Faculty of the Arts, with a major in Nihonga
2017~ Group Exhibitions in department stores nationwide
East Asia Culture City 2017 Kyoto Partnership Program, Asian Corridor, Contemporary Art Department Special Cooperative Projects, Kyoto Student Art Auction, Honorable mention
2018 The 44th Contemporary Children’s Art Exhibition, Tokyo Metropolitan Art Museum, Rookie of the Year award
2020 The 46th Contemporary Children’s Art Exhibition, Recommended society member
2022 Solo Exhibition, Isetan Urawa Store (2023 and 2024)
Description of Rie Saito’s work Uki Uki Ryu (Floating dragon)
A dragon, according to the Shincho World Art Dictionary, is an imaginary spirit animal that originated in ancient China. No one has ever seen one. From the dragons depicted on the ceilings of temples to those appearing in books and manga such as Harry Potter, Delicious in Dungeon, and Frieren, most dragons regardless of origin are fear-provoking. They are said to have an unbelievable and unbreakable power.
This dragon by the author? It has stopped flying on its own and floats to a height far above Mt. Fuji with eight delightfully colorful and festive balloons decorated with polka dots, stripes, and stars wrapped around its body. It seems to be enjoying swimming in the air. The dragon’s expression is sharp, but not scary. As the title suggests, the dragon may be excited. It evokes a feeling of friendliness and closeness with the dragon, such that you might be tempted to call out to it. The artist says these images pop up in her thoughts. In a sense, she is a modern artist with a fantastic imagination.
The sky in the background appears to be a blurred print. The title is written in a thin rectangular strip of red cloth in the upper right corner, and the character “Ri” for Rie Saito is encircled above a seal of approval stamped in the lower right corner as if to indicate a stamp of modification (aratame-in). At first glance, this work appears to be an Ukiyo-e print of the Edo era, but it is actually painted on paper. The artist is a fan of Ukiyo-e artists Kuniyoshi Utagawa and Kyosai Kawanabe, and their influence shows in this work. The artist shares a unique sense of painting pictures that entertain people with her candid and carefree imagination, unrestrained by conventional frameworks. Her paintings shouldn’t be seen with a solemn face.
(Description by Takashi Watari, Art Consultant)
Details of Rie Saito’s exhibition
Rie Saito, Nihonga Exhibition ~Reiwa’s Ryu-Gu-Jo 2 (Reiwa’s Dragon’s Palace 2) ~
December 4th (Wed) to 10th (Tue), 2024
Last day closes at 17:00
Isetan Urawa Store 6F, The Stage #6 Art
Free admission
This is a solo exhibition by Rie Saito, a Nihonga painter residing in Saitama. She paints goldfish, carp, dragons, mermaids, and other Ayakashi (monsters) that live in water. The Dragon’s Palace is depicted as a place that welcomes imaginary creatures without judgment of good or evil. The humor-filled works express one way of dealing with the chaos of the modern age in the artist’s way. Please visit Reiwa’s Ryu-Gu-Jo 2 (Dragon’s Palace 2), where you’re bound to enjoy and lose track of time while swimming through the exhibition.