The Third Chapter : Interview with Atsushi Hamazaki (English ver.)
Every artist is guided by something that cannot always be seen, yet quietly gives meaning to everything they create.
In this conversation, Atsushi Hamazaki reflects on a practice devoted to making the invisible perceptible. Through paintings that evoke atmosphere, memory, and quiet resonance, he shares how experiences across cultures, music, and everyday life have shaped a visual language rooted in connection rather than representation.
Beyond every finished work lies a way of sensing the world that reaches across distance, time, and memory. The Core Message invites readers to encounter that quiet resonance through the artist's own words.
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Q. Thank you for joining us. To begin our conversation, we are curious to know how you define your identity as an artist at this moment and what central theme most occupies your thoughts.
A.During the COVID-19 pandemic, I was unable to go out, and the musical activities I loved had also come to a halt. I felt a profound sense of confinement. It was during that period that I began painting, seeking a point of contact with the world outside.
I play the harmonica in a band.. When I could no longer perform, I wanted to express visually the heat, atmosphere, and intangible exhilaration of music. That impulse became the starting point of my work.
My work is no longer simply about “turning music into paintings,” but the underlying theme—making the invisible visible—has remained unchanged.
Q. This chapter is titled "The Core Message." If you were to describe the "anchor" or the most fundamental intention that holds your practice together, what would it be?
A.Through painting, I want to capture the “air” that lingers in a place.
I have a sense that invisible resonances arise between people, places, and moments throughout the world, transcending time and location. I believe that air may be what carries and connects those resonances.
Air cannot be seen. Yet it quietly carries traces of people, emotions, memories, and something like the temperature of a place. Perhaps that is why we can resonate, in some way, with people far away and with people who lived in the past or may live in the future.
I spent time working abroad in the United States and Indonesia. Despite differences in culture and language, I experienced firsthand that there are indeed moments when people can connect with one another intuitively.
Just as music brings people together beyond words, I hope my paintings can allow viewers to sense the resonance and connection between people.
Q.Is there a specific piece among your works that you feel most clearly embodies this "core message"? We would love to hear the story behind that work and why it holds such a special place in your heart.
A.《Whishing Your Peace Silently》 was created following my grandmother’s death.
As a child, I found death terrifying because it seemed to mean that someone precious to me would disappear completely. Now, although grief is undeniably present, I feel that people continue to remain connected in some way even after they have passed away.
Human beings are also creatures who forget. As time passes, traces of a person’s presence and our memories of them gradually fade. That is why I want painting to create a space that reawakens those feelings and invites us to turn our thoughts toward those who are absent.
For me, painting is a device that brings invisible air and traces of presence into being, quietly connecting person to person, past to present, and life to death.
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| Wishing Your Peace Silently |
Q. Artists often find themselves returning to a certain inquiry. What is the persistent question you find yourself asking through your art, regardless of how your style may change?
A. Living in different countries and working in an office, and engaging with music, I continue to ask what I can offer people through painting. At the same time, I am interested in what shapes our sensibility and aesthetic consciousness as Japanese people. By moving between different cultural spheres and observing the distances and atmospheres that emerge between them, I am searching for a form of expression unique to me.
Q. In an era of rapidly changing trends, how do you maintain your own pace and stay focused on the voice that matters most to you?
A. To express the air I want to paint, I place great importance on “ma”—the pauses and spaces within the image. Perhaps it reflects my temperament, but I am naturally drawn to quiet compositions rather than crowded compositions. I used to think that a work needed a powerful impact in order to move people. As I continued making art, however, I realized that this is not necessarily the case: strong emotions can also reside in stillness and empty space. In this emphasis on “ma” and silence, I feel a kinship with the aesthetic of “ma” found in Japanese art and gardens.
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| Look Up to the Sky |
Q. During the creative process, is there a specific moment or a sensation of "rightness" that tells you a piece has successfully captured your intended message?
A. There are moments when the composition and colors come together and I feel that the world within the image has become whole. In particular, when a motif such as a bird ceases to be merely something placed on the canvas and becomes organically connected to the space, its atmosphere, and the world of the work, I feel that the piece has truly come into being. When an object connects organically with the image as a whole, I know everything has fallen into place.
Q. Beyond the final result, what part of the "act of creating" itself do you find most precious or aligned with your personal values?
A. Alongside “ma,” I value the atmosphere created by the presence of natural and man-made elements and animals as they shape the air of a work. My paintings are built through relationships between space and objects. For that reason, I take time to consider what to place, where to place it, and in what colors. I also pay attention to the symbolism each object carries. Birds, for example, move across boundaries and often appear as symbols of messengers. Human figures, on the other hand, can easily impose a fixed image on the viewer, so I deliberately avoid depicting them directly.
Q. Looking back, was there a specific experience that shifted your focus from purely aesthetic concerns to a deeper message within your work?
A. As I considered what painting can express precisely because it is painting, I began to focus not only on visual beauty but also on the presence a work carries. I see painting not as a mere image, but as something that conveys something beyond itself..
In works that attract me, such as those by Morikazu Kumagai and Matisse, I sense not only decorative qualities but also a quiet presence and a gaze toward life. There is something in them that allows existence itself to quietly rise beyond form and color.
I am deeply drawn to works that convey presence without overexploiting, and I aspire to develop my own expression in that direction.
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| Midnight Journey |
Q.As your practice has evolved, how has your core message shifted or become more defined over time?
A. The fundamental concept of making the invisible visible has remained unchanged since I began painting. As I have continued working, however, I have increasingly sought to express the quieter qualities of atmosphere and presence. This reflects my wish for viewers to feel the presence of others through my work, as well as a shift toward entrusting more of the experience to each viewer’s imagination. I hope my work can become a starting point for sensing the presence of “something that is not here.”
Q. Thank you so much for sharing such thoughtful insights with us today. As we conclude our conversation, what kind of internal conversation do you hope a viewer has with themselves when they spend time with your work? What is the "echo" you hope stays with them?
A. People can resonate with one another beyond culture, language, and time. I would be happy if my work could offer a moment in which viewers encounter that feeling.
I paint with an awareness that my paintings do not end within the canvas; they remain connected to the people, places, and memories that extend beyond it.
Even when someone or something is far away, there are moments when we suddenly sense its presence.
I hope my work can become an entry point to that kind of resonance.
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| Path to the Mystical |
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