Yuzo Saeki, a painter of beautiful "lines" and "noise"

May 10
6 min read

Updated: Jun 5

Saeki Yuzo, "The Postman" (Collection of Nakanoshima Museum of Art, Osaka). A portrait that highlights the subject—the postman—by simplifying the background to the extreme. A masterpiece painted shortly before the artist's death. — **"The Postman"** Saeki Yuzo / Collection of Nakanoshima Museum of Art, Osaka

I like the painter Yuzo Saeki.

I think the first time I saw his work was in a junior high school art textbook. The famous "The Postman."

I clearly remember being drawn to it, though I don't know the reason why.

The reason I’m starting with this story is that I organized my bookshelf during Golden Week.

While it's not like I have a vast amount, I have exhibition catalogues and art books on hand.

Renoir, Monet, Degas, and other Impressionists; Cezanne, Gogh, Gauguin, and other Post-Impressionists; and later Picasso, Matisse... and so on. The famous names are lined up rather indiscriminately, but among them is a catalogue of Yuzo Saeki.

Of the two catalogues I have, the newer one is from the retrospective held at the 2023 Osaka Nakanoshima Museum of Art 1st Anniversary Special Exhibition.

As I gazed at the catalogue, I remembered when I viewed it, exactly three years ago at this time of year.

■ The 2023 Retrospective and Memories of a Beautiful Museum

At that time, I was working in academic affairs and headed to this exhibition with a fellow artist.

I was interested in the architecture itself of the modern, newly opened Osaka Nakanoshima Museum of Art, and the museum houses a vast collection of works by Yuzo Saeki, who was from Osaka.

I was very much looking forward to this retrospective, as it was a special exhibition that brought his works together in one place with the cooperation of other museums.

Additionally, combined with the scenic riverside location of Nakanoshima, I remember well that the weather was fine that day, making it a perfect day for a stroll.

■ Yuzo Saeki’s "Noise" and the Alignment of Preferences

What was wonderful about this retrospective was that the works from his early years to his final years were displayed chronologically, allowing me to trace the painter’s journey.

It goes without saying that the works are excellent.

I believe the excellence of Saeki's work lies in the "noise."

Normally, noise tends to be thought of as something negative to be avoided, but in his case, it is not "unnecessary noise" but "necessary noise."

I usually work on my art based on "Modism" and from that perspective, one might want to say, "Isn't something like noise unnecessary?"

But that is not the case.

Modism, which values subtraction, and Saeki's expression, which at first glance may seem like addition. It may appear contradictory, but it is not simply a matter of superficial information volume.

"What to select in order to express the essence"

The noise he left behind is the bare minimum—in other words, "minimal." In fact, his works are engraved with vibrant lines and rich touches of only what was reflected in Saeki's eyes (heart), and everything else is brilliantly omitted.

When I found the common thread of "the extraction of essence and its method" within this expression that I had been drawn to for no reason since before I can remember, I believe that this is the very reason why my younger self was attracted to Saeki's work, and the reason why I still love it so much today.

■ Facing the Agonizing Self-Portrait—Courage Gained During a Time of "Hesitation"

Saeki Yuzo, "Self-Portrait" (Collection of Nakanoshima Museum of Art, Osaka). A self-portrait painted on the back of "Notre Dame at Night," depicting the artist standing still with his paintbrush. His own face is painted over with intense brushwork. — **"Self-Portrait,"** Yuzo Saeki / Collection of the Osaka Nakanoshima Museum of Art / Work painted on the reverse side of **"Notre-Dame at Night"**

Now, it is not that I want to discuss technical theory, but the reason I felt it was truly good to have gone to this exhibition is that I was able to see that "Self-Portrait" in person.

It is an extremely famous painting, but what made it so impactful was the poignant reality: "Ah, so even Saeki hesitated and was driven into a corner to this extent..."

A self-portrait where the face is crushed and mangled, standing in a daze with a paintbrush in hand.

He must have been in a state of considerable mental distress.

Saeki grew up in a relatively wealthy family and traveled to France in high spirits, carrying the pride of having mastered advanced techniques in Japan. However, in France, he was harshly criticized and torn to pieces.

He received no recognition at all and was dismissed as being "old-fashioned (too academic)." How great must the shock have been, to have his very self denied and not accepted at all.

That helpless frustration is condensed within that painted-over face and that standing pose.

At that time, I had just lost my mentor and was in the midst of hesitation over "what and how to draw, and what and how I should teach." I clearly remember facing that painting at such a time and receiving a painful amount of courage, thinking, "Even Saeki harbored conflicts deep enough to fall into self-despair." It was a work I had seen several times before, but I remember that on that day, by touching the original painting while tracing the painter's journey chronologically, that sense of despair and frustration reached me directly, and I gazed at it for a long while. After all, the overwhelming power radiating from an original painting is something that can never be fully captured through prints or a screen.

■ Not a Life-and-Death Creation, but the Pursuit of Pure "Enjoyment"

From this point, the so-called "Saeki style" gradually begins to emerge.

He established his own painting style, depicting the streets and posters of Paris with his unique touch.

The landscape paintings from the period when he returned to Japan and worked there are also intriguing, but he eventually returned to Paris, continued to paint, and there he met his end.

Regarding his death, it is often said that "he was a painter who staked his life on his art."

However, I sense a slightly different nuance. I cannot help but feel that he was simply in a state where "he enjoyed drawing so much that he couldn't help himself."

Once Saeki finally returned to Paris, I wonder if he simply could not suppress the urge to draw—much like a child becoming completely absorbed in play.

His pure desire to "draw" outweighed any concern for his physical condition, and he continued to stand on street corners even while being struck by the rain. Of course, I understand the historical fact that his end was a death from illness after being driven to a mental breaking point.

The situation must have been anything but optimistic.

Still, rather than a tragic determination to shave away his life, it was the result of being driven by the joy of drawing—to the point where he surpassed the physical limits of his body.

I feel that perceiving it this way brings us closer to the true nature of that pulsating "touch (brushwork)."

Saeki Yuzo, "Placard-posting" (Collection of Artizon Museum). An oil painting that captures the advertisements, letters, and overlapping colors plastered across a Parisian street corner with intense brushwork. — **"Posters"** Saeki Yuzo / Collection of the Artizon Museum

■ The True Value of Getting Lost and Crawling Forward

To immerse oneself in what they love and live thinking only of that, just as he did—that is no easy feat.

I feel that this kind of pure immersion is what led to the touch (brushwork) of Saeki’s later years—which stripped away the unnecessary and grew in strength.

If only we could have seen another world painted by an elderly Saeki—what kind of scenery would he have shown us?

While that remains within the realm of imagination, there is no doubt that he was an artist who, despite his frail health, left behind works filled with soul during the most feverish period of his life.

I am moved by his intense way of life, but what remains even more deeply in my heart is the image of him during his "period of hesitation."

Famous artists and successful individuals—though it is clear if one thinks about it calmly that this is not the case—tend to be perceived as having succeeded with less effort than others, or as having overcome their struggles with effortless grace.

However, they too—just like us—agonize, hesitate, crawl forward, and somehow manage to overcome the walls in their path.

Everyone surely has their own struggles that others cannot see. When I remember how Saeki taught me this fact through that self-portrait, I receive great courage.