In The Studio: Asa Hiramatsu
Note: This interview is a re-transcription of a conversation between Speciwomen’s founder Philo Cohen and Tokyo-based painter Asa Hiramatsu from 2018. At the time, Cohen lived in Tokyo and went to visit Hiramatsu’s studio on the outskirts of the city.
《雲 IV / Cloud IV》パネルに油彩 / Oil on Wood Panel, 2018.
《黒雲 / A Black Cloud》合板に油彩 / Oil on Plywood, 2017.
《存在 / Existence》パネルに油彩 / Oil on Wood Panel, 2018.
Philo Cohen for Speciwomen: Talk to me about some of the themes of your work. Your relationship with boundaries, and void, and link. Is there a story behind that?
Asa Hiramatsu: I have land, crowd [inside], the whole world, maybe, I have that, inside. And, there is nothing there, you know sometimes there is a chair, [but it doesn’t have any meaning]… but I stayed, alone, and there is nobody, but I can see, or I can feel the sign, that someone maybe was there a long time ago, but they have gone, and I walk there, alone, and I see a lot of things.
I painted that scenery, which I saw inside. It isn’t the real scenery; I took it from inside. In real life, there is always a cloud, it's like a museum. Today I can see a different cloud, and it connects, the inside and outside. Before this coming exhibition, I had a tube-like world, like this real life, and inside the one. I thought they were separated, because for me, something inside me was very important, and only for me, and I can be totally free inside, but the outside, I have to be different sometimes. I realized that I don’t have to have a border between inside and outside. There is a cloud, all the time. So inside, I saw the totally same clouds, but outside, the same clouds, you know, always. So I realized that, so since I realized that the clouds melt the border, and it becomes one.
PC: Do you put yourself in front of the work you’re about to start, think of it, and then paint? Or do you wait to feel it?
AH: Every time it happens, it happens at the same time.
PC: You’ve had this link with clouds ever since you were a child right? Has it ever evolved? And if it has, how has it evolved?
AH: No, it’s evolved just recently, because kids don’t have full reasoning. The whole “I like this, I dislike this,” is very natural, but it is something that adults practice differently than children. And I want to follow it. It supports me a lot, because it’s natural, and it's not artificial. I do feel like I talk to my childhood self, and she helps me a lot. It is something that child-me used to think about. For example, there is one of what I saw in childhood because on the ground it was too noisy for me. You know, too many people. Of course I know that each person has a story, and they are so nice, but, sometimes it was too much for me, so I wanted to go up and above the clouds. It looked so calm, and I thought that I could be alone, totally alone.
PC: When I looked at your earlier work it seems you did more narrative and objects, like really descriptive paintings. Was the cloud present?
AH: At the time, I didn’t have a way to access it, so no. I couldn’t quite express my main motif. The clouds are always beside me, and I knew that. But I didn’t know the way to get to them, you know? I didn’t know how to take the inside out, and put that inside a painting. But, that journey was necessary to get to where I am, here, today.
PC: What do you hope they find?
AH: I don’t hope for anything. It’s always up to them, because as I told you, you might be very sad today, or you might be very excited today; I don’t know. But once in front of the painting, the painting will listen to you. But inside always, and I don’t want to speculate about other people’s experiences. Because I’ve been working in a gallery for a long time and in a gallery I’ve seen something happening, between the customer and the work. It’s always different, depending on the person. If you stand in front of it, I’ll see something different than you and if I bring other friends here, I’ll see something different then them too.
PC: It’s great that you have been at the gallery and gotten to see that.
AH: I think so; that’s why, before, to be honest, I didn’t go to university and I didn’t learn the art. I don’t have any technique, I just know what I want to do. But finally, it's okay for me. I have confidence in myself and my work despite not going to university. Because when other students stayed in university, in learning art or painting, I went to museums. A lot. And I stayed in front of the paintings, and I didn’t have to talk to a teacher or professor, it was always only me. So I talked to the paintings, and I didn’t talk about what I thought to anybody, you know it was just a treasure for me. So I stayed in front of the paintings for many years alone. That experience and that time supports me a lot. Finally I think about it like this, but before I didn’t think this way about not going to university.
PC: The gallery seems to have maybe been sort of transitional, because when you wanted to be a curator and worked at the gallery, maybe it gave you confidence. What year did you start at the gallery, working there?
AH: Ten years ago?
PC: Ok, so before you started making work. And do you always make work here?
AH: Yes.
PC: When did you get this space?
AH: Two years ago. I really love this tiny place. It’s really vocal, and old, and not beautiful. It’s very close to the next apartment. I love everything around here, like the train, and many trains come and go, but you don’t hear it.
PC: The process of layering, has it changed?
AH: No. It's always been like this. I like this texture. Since I was a kid, I prepared everything on the table for dinner with my mother, so she let me choose the dishes. The ones that would suit the foods. So, I coordinated it. And my mother has a lot of dishes. I fell in love with this texture. So, it’s always been at the beginning since I started painting.
PC: How do you start? From when it's blank? What’s the first thing when you start a painting?
AH: So when I paint, I make the pallet. But at the same time I make the base. I think this is very original because I didn’t learn how to paint.
PC: Do you have a moment when you feel it's done? Like, the work isn’t done.
AH: I have several points that I feel are completed. I divide the painting in pieces in my brain. At the beginning it was a full piece, and at the end of the process I imagine dividing the painting into like 16 or 20 small pieces. If this painting will be alive in the future, maybe this could be damaged and broken, and the people in the future will see this painting in pieces but even one piece, I want this like or like this. When it gets to that stage it means it is nearly completed. If I like the texture, that means I am getting close to finishing. But if I don’t like it, that means I have to work more. Another point is, when I feel the sign. Sign means something invisible, but I think there is something. For example, ghosts. We don’t see ghosts but we see something. In English I don’t have the right words for it.
PC: In French you would say, beyond life. Ghosts come from there.
AH: For example, grandmother, grandfather, they passed away, but they are here. So if I feel something similar to that inside my painting, that means the end.
PC: I wanted to ask you, because you told me about the cloud, but I also see plates or woodcuts in your work, and I love the plates. What’s the story behind that?
AH: These scenes are from inside me. But when I draw the plates, I put real plates in front of me, and I see it and the painting, so it’s different. So, sometimes I have to go back to reality which helps me a lot. Like the noise of the railway. In a sense I am out of reality, with a painting, but I should be back to reality, not to take a break, but to see my painting from far away. So the plate drawings get me to reality because I draw the real plates. So I need to draw plates between the process.
PC: Like you need the sculpture?
AH: I like drawing the plates, and I like making the sculpture, and going back to this painting. So it’s like a process.
PC: During the whole work process, how much do you think about being a woman?
AH: I never think about sexuality. Because I told you, I don’t like using the border. But, one of my good friends, he is 63 years old, he always says, “the artist should have women inside.” He always says this. He means women have sensitivity and strongness inside, so when I think in that way, I think I am a woman, but I don’t care. I think women are so strong. But no, I don’t think about it.
PC: I feel like the more I ask people over the years, the more fluid it gets. I think in the past few years people from all over the world have sort of loosened up their definition of gender and sexuality, and it's more loose, and no boundaries. Before it was really set, so that’s so interesting to see.
AH: I don’t want to impose a definition of sexuality on anyone, just for them to be with the paintings. I just want people to be with the paintings, and as a result maybe it will be effective. But I don’t judge any of that. Only the customers will think that I am a female artist, or if they find something woman in a sense. And I let them go, thinking that way.
PC: I just wanted to ask you, because sometimes people are like “Yes! I’m a woman!” and sometimes they aren’t. It’s interesting to hear everyone’s answers on that. Is there anything else you want to tell me or if I didn’t ask something?
AH: My first solo exhibition I let all the customers touch the paintings. I got a call in the gallery and someone said, “you did something wrong.” But I wanted to have it like that because I work with texture and every time I go to a museum I want to touch the paintings. But of course, I can’t. I work with textures and I know the textures of my work and I want to let the customers feel that. I am the artist, having the show, so I am free to do what I wish. So I said, “please touch the paintings!” Everyone was so surprised, but many people are a little bit nervous in front of the painting. I don’t know why, but I cut the pressure. You can touch the paintings. They said, “oh no I can not do that” but once they touch the painting “oh my god” and I see them with their senses. I was happy to see that happen.