Student days when I didn't know "what I wanted to draw"

"Was your student life at Aichi Prefectural University of the Arts going well?"

As long as the challenges were raised, things went smoothly. You are given themes like painting landscapes and people, so you just need to respond accordingly. But I hit a wall for the first time during my graduation project. Not knowing what I wanted to draw, I drew both fish and people. Even when I paint thinking it looks good, I don't truly feel it from the heart, so I end up losing my brush. Because I could respond to the given theme, I joined the classical painting laboratory. Looking back now, I might have avoided copying in some ways.

Aichi Prefectural University of the Arts Horyuji Kondo Mural Reproduction Exhibition Hall

"What kind of person is the teacher doing?"
The moment I re-examined myself as a writer

"After leaving the work of copying national treasures, did you immediately transition to the artistic activities you do now?"

No, that wasn't the case. In my first year, I didn't have much work, but from the second year, I was offered an art lecture at a local junior high school, which led me to start teaching. I taught art at a kindergarten, and while I hadn't lost my income, I hadn't established myself as an artist either. The Inten was a bit far away, and I tried out small exhibitions, painting neat pictures with the kind of 'I hope it sells' at the time. At that time, a middle school student asked me. "What kind of person does Dr. Tanaka do?"

"That's a question that really makes you notice."

I was quite troubled by the answer to the question, "What do you do?" I painted, but I felt there was nothing else. I consider myself a painter, but when asked, "What do you paint?" I couldn't answer, and it made me realize that I still don't have a clear label as an artist. "I paint this kind of picture," there was nothing to say. I think the students asked casually, but looking back now, that question was significant.

"Did that bring changes to the work?"

That's right. Around that time, a piece of kachofutsutsu I casually drew was suddenly selected, and the selected piece would become my research theme. I started drawing birds by the water, thinking, 'So this is my direction,' but I got tired halfway through and realized I couldn't keep drawing forever.

"What!? Why was that? ”

I got tired of it. When I draw, I put my heart into it. But when I see the works I return to exhibitions, they feel empty and empty, like they painted birds skillfully. It wasn't a technical issue, but rather that the judges saw through my lack of enthusiasm and kept rejecting me. From there, the dark age of searching for themes began. In the end, I must have struggled for about two years.

"Jiran"
Author: Hiroaki Tanaka

"The expression of light on the surface is very striking, but how does that glow come about?"

When looking at the sea, I think the most beautiful thing is definitely the light. Rather than focusing on the waves themselves, I have been thinking deeply about how to depict the sparkling reflections of light. Perhaps it's not about the sea, but about drawing light itself. Even in the same sea, the way the light enters and the waves change each time, so I try to capture the air I felt at the moment and my own feelings of "how beautiful it is." All these drawings are pointillism, so people often say, "That's tough," but I've never disliked detailed work since I was young. Ideally, you could apply it with a sticky coat, which would be faster, but that wouldn't make it light. It doesn't look like it's shining. So you gradually layer the dots, and when you do that, the light starts to float.

"So pointillism was necessary to paint light."

I tried different ways to draw, but this method was the closest to the light I saw. Draw, erase, and draw again, repeating this process many times to add depth. It's not good to just leave the surface shiny. I want depth and the feeling of light coming out of the water, so I layer it multiple times. As I learned from copying national treasures, trying to finish quickly usually leads to failure, so for now, I have no choice but to take it slow and build up each piece one by one.

"Does the light of the sea seem likely to continue as a theme to continue painting in the future?"

That's right. It feels like painting the sea, but in reality, it's like drawing something different each time, so it's endless. I got tired of the birds, but the sea is still okay. Every time I see it, I discover new things, so I think I'll keep painting for a while longer.