In 1993, Jasper Johns was awarded the Praemium Imperiale for Painting, the annual, international award honoring outstanding contributions to the development, promotion, and progress of the arts. While in Tokyo, he met with his old friend, artist Keiji Usami, who interviewed Johns for the literary journal Herumesu (Hermes). Reiko Yanagi was the interpreter between Usami and Johns. The conversation was published only in Japanese on March 9, 1994 in Herumesu, No. 48. This blog post features a Castelli Gallery translation from the original publication.
Jasper Johns, Watchman, 1964
Oil on canvas with objects (two panels)
85 x 60 1/4 inches (215.9 x 153.04 cm.)
ARTISTIC DEPARTURE
Keiji Usami: People are saying that Japan has become prosperous, but that is not really true: in order to arrive at the Okura Hotel at 10:00, I had to leave my home around 8:30 and then be in a crowded train for an hour. (Laugh).
Jasper Johns: It takes over two hours from Narita airport.
KU: The concentration of people living in cities, combined with prices for the land as high as nowhere else in the world, is dragging down not only the economy, but also the standard of living. And perhaps, the world of contemporary art is in even poorer conditions than the standard of living. Well, let's leave this subject out of the conversation for now.
Japanese contemporary art has grown under the influence of European and American contemporary art, but I personally don't think there are many Western artists who had developed a deep connection with Japan. Jasper, you are one of the contemporary American painters who is closest to us. Not only did you have a retrospective exhibition in Japan, but you also created Watchman, one of your most important works, in Japan, in 1964.
And now you came back to Japan, after quite a long time to receive the Praemium Imperiale. I came here today hoping that we could remember the past together, while also talking about how you feel these days and if you have any plan for the future.
JJ: What am I thinking about these days? I am not sure I have much to say..., but this may be a good occasion to think about things together.
I have been away from Japan for a long time, and as I was preparing to return to Japan after a long time, I started to think about what my connections with Japan have been, and of course, one of the most important points of connection between me and Japan was Yoshiaki Tōno. Tōno came to America at the end of the 1950s. I don't know how he heard about my work, but out of the blue he came to visit me. I was surprised that Tōno had come from such a distant country to meet with me. Probably it was through Tōno that Mr. Shimizu, of Minami Gallery, became interested in my work, and the relation between me and Japan started from here.
KU: It was thirty years ago, but do you remember your first exhibition in Japan?
JJ: I definitely remember the exhibition that happened while I was living in Japan, even if I am a little confused now on whether that was my first exhibition or not.
KU: Up until then, we knew of your work through art magazines, but then you actually came to Japan, made your work here, and had an exhibition. For us in Japan, to see your work being created here, next to us, was an event that brought great surprise and joy. Because it made us feel like you were right here, close to us.
This may not be directly related to you, but we were young people in Japan, aspiring to make new art in the post-war years, and we felt that the narrative developed by modern Western art in places very far away was now unfolding right in front of us through you.
JJ: Until the 1950s, American contemporary art rarely made its way to Japan, and the number of painters and artists who came to Japan was extremely small. Sam Francis and I are among the few painters who did come to Japan.
KU: First of all, if I can say something: in Japan, when the news arrived about the movements in Europe that wanted to reform painting, starting with Dadaism, they arrived at the same time as the news about the new Abstract Expressionism in America. We perceived this as the feeling of a double-punch. To say it more clearly, Duchamp and the American contemporary art of Pollock arrived to us at the same time. In what way should we stand up to this double-punch? This question was our starting point. In this context, I felt that you were integrating both artists and opening new horizons. I felt a strong affinity with you because, like me, you were a painter, rather than someone throwing punches.
Compared to this situation, Jasper, how was your youth? The generation before yours was the first generation of the New York School. You were simultaneously exposed to the work of the first generation of the New York School of artists like Pollock and Newman, and to the European Dada. This was in the 1950s, when you were in your twenties. This must have been different from the double-punch we were experiencing in Japan, but I wonder, would it be possible to see some analogies between the two?
JJ: Well, I think it was somewhat different regarding the first generation of New York School. I spent my childhood in South Carolina. Over there, I was in a rural area more than a town, and there was no art. I went to New York in my late teens and stayed there for a number of years, but at the time I wasn't seriously thinking about becoming a painter. Then, I went to the military. In New York, I happened to see some European art. For the most part, things on display at MoMA, like Braque, Picasso, Klee, and Munch... Around that time, a relatively large Munch exhibition opened, and I remember seeing it. Then, I saw a Cezanne exhibition that opened at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. At the Metropolitan Museum of Art I also saw a very large Van Gogh exhibition. This was between the late 1940s and the early 1950s? However, at the time I didn’t have any contact with the art circles. Pollock was just starting to attract attention, appearing in magazines like the person of the moment.
As for me, after being in the military for about a year and a half, I was sent to Sendai, where I spent six months. It was the first time I was in a “foreign country.” I was coming from a terribly limited world, and for me this was a very valuable experience.
When I returned to New York in 1953 or 1954, the art scene was growing, and that is when I first started to get involved. Mainly through Rauschenberg, though… Because he knew the art world of that time very well. Even if I say the art world, by comparison to today, it was a very small environment. There were maybe twenty or thirty artists that one could think were really interesting. And, of course, they all knew each other.
Anyway, that was the first time I witnessed a painting taking shape before my eyes. And from there, I kept learning: what does an artist think about the work he is doing? And what do other people think about it? I learned how to become an artist by stealing those methods. Of course, to them I added my own thoughts.
So, to answer the question you asked me earlier, when I returned to the United States from Japan after completing my military service, the New York art scene was full of life, and, just like that, I was drawn into it. It was just like this.
Jasper Johns, Target with Four Faces, 1955
Encaustic on newspaper and cloth over canvas mounted by four tinted-plaster faces in wood box with hinged front
33 5/8 x 26 x 3 inches (85.3 x 66 x 7.6 cm.)
ABSTRACT EXPRESSIONISM: BEYOND THE FIRST GENERATION
KU: Today in American contemporary art there are many trends, but I would like to ask you what kind of bridge do you think exists between the visual world created by the so-called Pop artists like you and Rauschenberg in the 1960s and the first generation of American artists like Pollock, Newman, and Rothko?
JJ: I don’t think I have a direct relationship with the first generation of Abstract Expressionism. And I don’t think that the actual message that was present in the work of the first generation, appeared in our work in a modified form.
Even among artists of our generation, there are many who did works that follow the flow of painters of the so-called first generation like Rothko, Pollock, and Newman, but often, no matter what, their work ended up looking too similar to that of the first generation and not very original, because either their background ideas or their style were, in a certain way, borrowed.
There certainly was an audience that supported artists who had been strongly influenced by the first generation. What I mean is that America wanted more and more of what was created by the first generation. Therefore, even works that had little originality, to a certain extent, were popular, but that is when I think we appeared on the scene. We brought something different from the first generation of Rothko, Pollock, and Newman, and conversely, I think we were supported precisely for this reason.
KU: Looking back now, the influence of Barnett Newman’s work is quite strong. If you go now to MoMA, you see the European art movements of the first half of the twentieth century, and then, to break away from them, there is Pollock’s dripping and Barnett Newman’s Vir Heroicus Sublimis. These works generate a fundamentally different impression on us. One can clearly see that Pollock and Newman created a new trend in contemporary art in America. That trend continues up to this day and has now become mainstream, and I can see that, in a way, their ideas have been inherited by the young generation of today, though we must still examine the quality of those ideas. What are your thoughts on that?
JJ: First of all, MoMA is currently rehanging its collection. (Laugh). In any case, Newman is a very important figure.
KU: What I meant to say is that the work of artists today -- I don’t know if I should mention any names here, but for example, Walter de Maria’s installations, Richard Serra, and Dan Flavin and, close to us, On Kawara’s work consisting only of dates -- the works of these artists completely nullify the contents of their expressions and create only the frameworks for them. Work like this is now the mainstream. This created the context to elevate the first generation of artists like Pollock and Newman to the status of masters. And now, from our point of view, it looks that Jasper’s work seems to take a distance from that of the younger generation of contemporary American artists…
JJ: I feel it is very difficult to connect my work to an art movement, in general. Because I don’t work looking at what other people do, basically I paint according to myself. It is not that I am ignoring them, of course not, and it may happen that I use as feedback for my work, things that I felt or I reacted to when looking at works that you are calling the mainstream; however, I don’t understand where your definition of “mainstream” comes from. In other words, does something become mainstream based on the number of times it is on view in galleries or exhibitions, or somehow because of the atmosphere of the times?
Because what forms that mainstream is so vague, it is difficult defining my position toward it, and in addition, given that I don’t clearly understand where that mainstream exists, it is difficult to even answer how I relate to it.
KU: Yes, of course. I say of course because I feel strongly that this is the time we have to create by ourselves our own framework of expression. And we have to do it by ourselves, even if it is not a unique circumstance of Japan.
Because until now America had the leadership in contemporary art, how could we get involved in it, what ideas could we bring? This was our general way of thinking. But instead of this, I think that we must create a new framework completely opposing concepts such as the nothingness of content or the sublimation of content. I am now thinking that your work, that currently may appear to be outside of the mainstream, once again could become a starting point.
JJ: Yes, if we talk about making a framework, when I was young, I also wanted to establish a new framework, and, if you ask me what I was aiming to do in those days, I wanted to do something that didn’t exist yet, that other painters were not doing. If looking at a work that I had done, I saw any element that reminded me even a little bit of the work of another artist, I would throw it away without thinking twice and redo something different.
However, if it becomes a matter of extending this to include the entire culture, I mean, if we try to talk about making a framework that keeps into consideration the entire culture, I don’t know if I have any suggestions to offer.
KU: It feels like we are asked to enter history once again. That is why I now became extremely critical toward contemporary American art. Of course, I say this because I was there myself, I grew up within that logic.
JJ: I am wondering if I relate to your feeling toward Abstract Expressionism. Because until Ab-Ex in America there was no international art. And, maybe, the Ab-Ex artists shared the same state of mind with the Japanese artists you mentioned? In other words, Americans of the first generation tried to react to the avant-garde movements of Europe. Basically, because America until then was not recognized as a place for international art, the artists of Ab-Ex tried to make it become one, precisely like the artists in Japan are trying to make it in Japan now….
Jasper Johns, Skin II, 1973
Charcoal and oil on paper
25 1/4 x 40 1/4 inches (64.1 x 102.2 cm.)
FROM THE PLACE OF CREATION
KU: Recently, I started to feel ambivalent toward American Abstract Expressionism. Of course, it provided a sense of freedom and opened possibilities, but, on the other side, it also became the source for the mainstream of contemporary American art which I mentioned earlier. The work of an artist does not exist detached from the circumstances that make that work possible; however, I think that the place of the artist’s work should be a place that allows for varied interpretations. Next, I would like to talk about the workplace from a slightly different angle. You did a work titled Skin.
JJ: I did several works titled Skin…
KU: I am thinking of a work that looks like a body painting, from the waist to the lower back to the buttocks, made with ink. Recently, I was looking at some art books, and when I saw this work, I was moved by how wonderful it is. I think that this work tells perfectly the quality of Jasper Johns’ art.
JJ: Thank you. (Laughs).
KU: I think that you must have been extremely conscious of this: there is a shift from the sense of sight toward a purely intuitive perception. The liberation from the limits of the eye….
JJ: I don’t know if you have ever seen this, but if you wrap a piece of paper around the head of a person and then pour ink on it, and then you unfold it, you obtain something that looks like the map of the head of that person. I started to do this from the head, and then I wanted to try with other parts of the human body. This is what became the Skin series.
Jasper Johns, Target with Plaster Casts, 1955
Encaustic and collage on canvas with objects
51 x 44 inches (129.5 x 111.8 cm.)
KU: Even in 1955, in your series of “Targets,” you addressed a subject similar to what you did with “Skin.” In Target with Four Faces, rather than putting eyes above the “Target,” you put mouths and noses. In other words, beyond sight, you dealt with the five senses
JJ: In a book that I am reading now, a book by an art critic who is writing about my work, it is written something similar to what you are saying, but this is not something I personally ever paid any attention to. In that book, the art critic says that there is no human head in this work for the same reason you mentioned.
If you ask me, there are no eyes in the work simply because, as a practical matter, I couldn’t put plaster above an eyeball and make a mold of it. (Laughs).
KU: I believe that the “Target” came to be a symbolic expression, as we can also say for “Skin.” A “Target” is something for the eyes. However, you don’t make targets to look at with eyes, you make targets to touch, you make targets that we can perceive with the body. Don’t you think? Basically, I feel that when you create texture, you come to make work that moves from the eye to a more intuitive, or more physical, experience.
Jasper Johns, Figure 5, 1955
Encaustic and collage on canvas
17 3/8 x 14 inches (44.1 x 35.6 cm.)
JJ: Yes, that is right. I made a Target in which I used small doors (Note: Target with Plaster Casts, 1955). To see the work, you must touch it. This goes with what you were saying. I always wanted my work to be something to “feel.” To see is a proactive action, and it requires adequate movement and effort. In other words, to see you have to act, you have to move your body: this is what I think it is “to see.”
KU: You employed various methods to develop this though, and among them, I think that one that really stands out, is what is called overlay (repetition), to repeat layers, repeat layers of marks. I have been greatly influenced by this myself…
JJ: Explain to me a little bit more what you mean by overlay.
KU: For example, the literal overlay of the numbers 0, 1, 2, 3,.. but even when you use a single number, like for example 5, even in this case you treat it as a situation in which you do an overlay.
JJ: I made mistakes with the overlaying and had to redo it so many times, but that too is the nature of the act of doing overlay.
KU: You use the technique of layering both in the “Targets” and in the “Maps.” There is a layering as a symbol and there is a layering as an action, and they continue to overlap, and the feeling is that the map gradually materializes through the layering of the action. You use both paint and encaustic, right? Because the strokes of the encaustic are visible, one can easily see that several layers are overlapping. When dealing with symbols, I think you use two methods: layering them one on top of the other, and assembling them (arranging them in parallel lines). And these methods, open your work to various horizons.
When you deal with only one symbol, if we take 5, as an example, it is the single stand-alone 5, but you thought of a method to make it complex. I think you were doing that very consciously.
Jasper Johns, 0 Through 9, 1961
Oil on canvas
54 x 41 1/4 inches (137.2 x 104.8 cm.)
Jasper Johns, Spring, 1986
Encaustic on canvas
75 x 50 inches (190.5 x 127 cm.)
JJ: In a certain sense, creating something complex from a single symbol was a conscious decision. If you ask what I was thinking, what I was most interested in, as you said, I would layer several elements and I would wonder: the people who look at it, to what extent can they read what is there, if something is there?
Where does this come from? For one thing, the same thing can be completely different depending on who is looking at it. Consider for example the case of people with visual impairment touching an elephant: one person will say it is like this, and another person will say it is like that. In other words, people have different ways of seeing things. In addition, people can see more than one thing at once. For example, you can read the newspaper while watching the television. Even if you are reading the newspaper, if there is any breaking news on television, you can read both at the same time.
These two things really draw my interest: one is that the way of seeing things changes according to the individual, and the other is that people can see multiple things at the same time. The works based on overlaying originate from here.
KU: We can say that this method, I believe, addresses problems that concern the fundamentals of our imagination. And you are still following it, right?
JJ: Yes, but what do you think? (Laughs).
KU: You used symbols in various ways, and that came to an end more or less in the second part of the 1960s. The typical Jasper paintings that used symbols as a motif came to an end. The motif of the work you are doing now changed from the maps and targets, numbers and alphabets you did in the Sixties, and from the work you did in the Seventies, right? The motifs are changing, or maybe what changes are your inspirations, the things that motivate you. Please talk a little bit about these changes, since I myself don’t know much about them.
JJ: I got bored. There are several reasons regarding the change of motifs, but one is that I got tired, and I moved on to different things because I wanted to enjoy myself a little bit more. Then there is the experimental aspect, right? If I try to do this, where will it lead me? I was interested in things that were completely outside of my control, and maybe this produced a shift toward different motifs.
When it comes to change, I think it also happens that, as much as an artist wants to keep changing, he can’t, and there is repetition. We are always searching for true innovation, for new things. But to keep changing, for an artist, is very difficult.
KU: In your recent work, there is an "ambiguous figure." From one side, you see a vase, from the other side, the head of a person: you can only see one at a time, they can’t be seen simultaneously. The complexity of this kind of double-meaning figures differs from that of the overlaying. So, I get the feeling that there is a shift from overlaying toward ensemble.
JJ: What should I say… In a sense, it is a minor matter, but…
KU: Works featuring such ensembles began to appear around the time you made the large work According to What, 1964.
Jasper Johns, According to What, 1964
Oil, charcoal, and graphite on canvas with objects (6 panels)
88 x 191 3/4 inches (223.5 x 487 cm.)
JJ: I still intend to work using both overlaying and assembling. Overlaying is no longer as evident as before. Therefore, while I am still using overlaying, since the way I do it has changed, because of this, it may be perceived as you said, that there is a shift toward assembling. Lately, I have been doing tracings of other artists’ work (Note: Picasso, Munch, Grunewald) and incorporating them in my work, and for this I definitively use overlaying. I hope people discover the various layered effects throughout these works.
KU: Earlier on, I asked why you did overlays in the 1950s and 1960s, and I think one reason is that you aimed to avoid subjective expression.
A 5 that is disappearing, a rough 5, a 5 that is melting away… but, in its complexity this is a 5, and you position yourself in a place in which without calling it subjectively as the 5 that is disappearing, you describe the complexity of its appearance. However, when it comes to assembling or to tracing and quoting various things in these arrangements, am I correct in saying that the relation between the subject and the thing that becomes the motif shift quite a lot, particularly the position of the subject, right?
JJ: That is right.
KU: I would like to ask you if a certain awareness to combine everything you have done up until now is starting to emerge.
JJ: I think it was already the case. (Laughs). When I make a work, I always aim to do something different from the work I have done until then. And maybe this is what generates in my work a sense of coherence or lack of coherence.
KU: It is interesting that it has both aspects. When you talk about combining elements, you may refer to two ways of thinking: one is integrating what you have done until now, and the other one is integrating the ideas and way of seeing of many people from an art historical standpoint, like in the tracing of Grunewald and Picasso you have used in recent works. I believe both of these aspects are present…
JJ: Maybe so. Of course, it is a combination of elements from my own work and from the work of other artists of the past, but also of various elements from the outside world at the time in which I am living. Because of this, it is a combination of abstract and figurative things. When I deal with things outside me, there is a coherence even in the lack of coherence which comes to refresh me.
KU: Are you familiar with the Czech writer Milan Kundera?
JJ: I have read his work.
KU: In Kundera’s work, there are texts in which the clock is used as a metaphor. The image of “progress” is associated with the moving of the hands of the clock, and the image of the total “space” is associated with the face of the clock, and he uses expressions like “remaking the face of the clock” or “moving the hands.” This metaphor is interesting, and if we go back to the conversation we had at the beginning, I feel that American Abstract Expressionism is the force that wanted to move the hands of the clock, and, in so doing, American contemporary art became the mainstream. I think that your recent work has changed in the direction of remaking the face of the clock, but what do you think?
JJ: I am not sure if I connect to the clock metaphor. While I have never clearly painted a clock, I have often been using motifs that have associations with clocks. In the 1950s, I once tried to incorporate a clock in my work. However, it wasn’t a clock that you could see, you could simply hear the ticking. But I ended up destroying it.
KU: This is the first time I am hearing about it. That is interesting. I was hoping to talk about dealing with real “time” using the face of the clock, but let’s save that for another time.
JJ: Yes, I think so too! (Laughs).
I HAVE NO PLAN WHATSOEVER
KU: I would like to hear a little bit about Jasper Johns’s current work and life.
JJ: I work almost all day long… or I intend to. But I don’t know if this is of interest to other people. I live between New York and Saint Martin, in the Caribbean. I used to go to Paris and to Los Angeles to do prints, but that was about ten years ago, I don’t do it anymore. Sometimes I do prints in New York.
KU: I moved my studio to the countryside recently. You moved to work in the countryside quite early, to Stony Point (Note: a suburb of New York), and now you have a studio on the island of Saint Martin. What do you think about working away from the city?
JJ: It doesn’t make much of a difference for me, except maybe that the phone doesn’t ring. That’s about it. It is a place where the light is beautiful, but this is not something particularly unusual either. On the island, there is no so-called “intellectual life,” and if there is something you want to do, you need to bring it with you.
KU: When you are an artist, it doesn’t mean that because you want to make a work you are able to do it, I think that in order to be able to work, you compete with many social requests, with social pressure; and I think that this force that pushes me forward has decreased compared to the 1950s and 1960s. How do you feel about this kind of social force?
JJ: The social environment, in some cases, can be encouraging, but it can also be disheartening.
KU: In the past five or six years we have witnessed some very big historical developments, and in the political sphere, we have entered a turbulent time as well. Currently, we are in a situation of great upheaval. Though the art world may not directly be involved in this, what do you think about this, what do you feel?
JJ: Of course, in some ways I have been influenced by the historical and political changes of the past few years. Even in the art world of New York City alone, which is relatively small, things have changed quite a bit in the last ten years. People change as they get older, and so does their way to relate to things and their attitude toward them. Don’t you think so?
KU: Yes, I think so.
JJ: Regarding the current situation, I think this is a time that we feel unable to grasp it in its entirety. From here, what emerges are fragments, fragmentation, and, if you ask about this fragmentation, concretely, and in what shape it appears in my work, speaking for myself, I would not be able to say it clearly.
KU: As of right now, a work with a sense of totality is prone to go in the direction of eliminating the subject. In other words, the more we move toward a world without subject, this gives us the optical illusion of one perfect totality, and it starts to feel like that. I have a strong impression that a work with a sense of totality in contemporary art is a work in which human beings do not have a presence. I feel that way. That is why, since the only work I can do is fragment-like work, I think that I have to once more redefine the position of those fragments. Is that even possible?
JJ: Indeed, I am doing exactly the same thing, because fragments have become the reality. This is what I have always been doing, dealing with the part and the whole or, for example, how one thing can be seen completely as another thing. So, if you think that this is the present situation, on this point, your opinion overlaps with mine.
KU: We are running out of time, but lastly, Jasper, I would like you to talk a little bit about your vision for the future. Do you have any projects, or maybe just a feeling of the type of work you would like to do from now on?
JJ: I have no plan whatsoever. I just want to keep doing what I am doing now. I will send you photos of my work. That is the best way. (Laughs).
KU: Yes, sure but... (Laughs). As for the development of my work from now on… I take it a piece at a time.
JJ: I don’t understand that. Recently, I started to have a strong feeling that the work I was doing was going to be my last one. But even if this is what I thought, the only certainty I had is that this will not happen! (Laughs.)
KU: Well, thank you very much for your time.
Keiji Usami and Jasper Johns
October 26, 1993
Okura Hotel, Tokyo
Jasper Johns, artist
Keiji Usami, artist
Interpreter: Reiko Yanagi
This interview took place when Jasper Johns visited Japan at the end of October 1993 to attend the award ceremony for the 5th Praemium Imperiale (sponsored by the Japan Art Association).
Translated from the Japanese by BBC, October 2026
All artwork images: © 2026 Jasper Johns / Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York