Maya Fuji
Meeting Place_Acrylic & Airbrush on Wood Panel_48 x 36 x 1.5 in 2022Born in Japan and raised in the California Bay Area, is inspired by both her cultural heritage and the exploration of the liminal space she lives in as an issei (first-generation) mixed-race woman in the United States. She is fascinated by traditional Japanese mythology and folklore, as well as Showa and Heisei–era subcultures, and expands on these themes within the context of her personal experiences. A recurring theme in her work is the exploration of what forms our sense of identity, and how that can shift during one’s lifetime on account of generations living abroad. Imbuing the complexity of being multicultural, multinational, and multiracial is central to her works, as her paintings contrast the nostalgia of childhood memories with underlying feelings of being a foreigner simultaneously navigating Japanese and American communities. She illuminates self-discovery through narration and investigation of the otherness she has felt throughout her life, and uses it as a catalyst to reconnect with and reclaim space within her heritage.
Solo exhibitions include SWIM Gallery in San Francisco and YOD Gallery in Osaka. She has shown group exhibitions with New Image Gallery in Los Angeles in addition to Glass Rice and Hashimoto Contemporary in San Francisco. Fuji has been featured in publications such as New American Paintings, Friend Of The Artist, It's Nice That, Immigrantly Podcast, and was the winner of the Innovative Grant in 2023.
Interview With Maya Fuji
1. Hi Maya, tell us about your background. How and when did you first start to paint?
As a self taught artist, I’ve always painted and had some sort of artistic interest. I had taken some city college classes such as screen printing in the past, but started spending a lot more time painting during the 2020 lock down. With all the free time on my hands, I was able to experiment and develop my visual language.
2. What is your process like? How do you begin to work?
I think of my paintings as a method of storytelling, so I usually start with exploring what narrative I’d like to share through my paintings. This helps me brainstorm what symbols or colors to include when conceptualizing. I then make a digital sketch on Procreate and play around with the color palette until I have a decent idea of what the painting will look like. In the past, I dialed in the digital version of the painting pretty precisely, but lately I’ve been keeping it a lot more loose to allow spontaneous experimentations as I paint.
3. Your background as a first-generation mixed-race woman born in Japan and raised in the California Bay Area is a central theme in your work. Could you explain how this liminal space influences your artistic perspective and the exploration of identity in your art?
Over the last year I’ve explored how Japanese and American culture (specifically Kanazawa and Bay Area culture) intersect within me, becoming more of a central theme in my work. Earlier works of mine focused on exploration on how to remain connected to my Japanese heritage while living in the US. However recently I’ve shifted into exploring how ethnically mixed people, immigrants, and children of immigrants retain certain practices and traditions while letting go and picking up others. The longer I spend time in the U.S. I’ve noticed the way certain habits have shifted and morphed, often re-emerging as new ways of being. I often surprise myself by the unexpected ways certain parts of each culture have taken root within me. We tend to think of tradition as something stationary, from the past, and passed on for generations, but I wonder what it means to carry tradition across the ocean to a new place, where it interacts and reacts with the local customs, beliefs, and other cultures of that region. How does tradition exist within pockets of immigrant communities and what ripples can it have if it were to become part of the greater local community?
4. Your work seems to navigate the complex feelings of being multicultural, multinational, and multiracial. How do you convey these layers of complexity and contrast in your paintings, particularly when exploring the nostalgia of childhood memories and feelings of being a foreigner?
I often draw from memories of places or people I’ve spent time with, moments that stand out and leave a lasting visual impression in my mind. My experience of spending extended time and attending school in both countries help create a unique perspective that I share through specific symbolism I place throughout my paintings. I use this as a way to build connection and meaning to each story told through my paintings.
5. Traditional Japanese mythology and folklore, as well as contemporary subcultures, are sources of inspiration for your work. How do you blend these elements to create a narrative that reflects both your cultural heritage and personal experiences?
I interpret mythology, folklore, and superstition as a way our ancestors passed on wisdom to future generations. I often find these influences in my modern day life, whether I knowingly behave in a particular way or not. I think lessons stemming from ancient wisdom often inform contemporary subcultures, and I draw from these organic connections as a way to tell my own story.
6. Describe a real-life situation that inspired you.
Earlier this year I was part of a group exhibition with Rosa Projects, and at the end of the opening all the participating artists found ourselves sitting in a circle as a part of an impromptu artist talk. We all came from different cultural and ethnic backgrounds, and we ended up sharing our pasts, what pushes us to make art, and what narrative we want to convey through our practice. While a lot of the work was quite different at first glance, we all had similar underlying messages about creating connection and community and I felt it was a very uplifting moment.
7. How has the city you are living and working in influenced you and the art you make?
Growing up in the Bay, we always referred to it as a bubble. It's a place with a very liberal mindset, and I spent my entire life surrounded by an extremely diverse community. I was also lucky enough to grow up with a whole friend group of mixed Japanese kids, and I could relate to and share similar experiences with them all throughout my life. In my paintings, I always focus on the joy and celebration of being part of the diaspora, and think of my art practice as a way to connect and build community. Being from the Bay Area bubble and having people I could relate to allowed me to focus on the joy.
8. As you continue your artistic journey, how do you envision your exploration of identity and cultural heritage evolving? Are there new themes or directions you’re eager to explore in your future artwork?
A theme I’ve been wanting to explore for a while is traditional cuisines such as Kyoto style Kaiseki. It is a course meal that is heavily informed by legend, mythology, spirituality, and seasonality. The dishes are made to look like its own form of art, and each bite has a specific reason it's being served at that specific time of year, on a specific type of plateware. I had the opportunity to work at a Kyoto style Kaiseki restaurant in the past, and would love to incorporate the history and culture of this cuisine in my visual art practice.
9. What projects are you currently working on, and how are they building upon your previous work?
I’ve currently been exploring the idea of the Japanese concept of Tsukumogami, the animism of a household object that obtains a spirit or soul over a century. They were often represented as little spirits of mundane day to day objects such as tansu shelving, koto or biwa instruments, fans, and futon covers. I have contemplated what these Tsukumogami spirits would exist as, not only in the modern day, but if they had followed my family to the Bay Area. Would they only exist in Japanese households or would they coexist with other spirits that predated them? Could knowledge, wisdom, or oral tradition take life? I also wonder how it would affect our way of living if we treated our belongings with the care and respect we’d give something that we believed to have a spirit. Maybe it would shift the way we currently produce waste or treat the world with a false sense of abundance.
