Interview with Artist Hideji Terada

For me, the purpose is to express Japanese folk culture through images. I don’t think I choose particularly special subjects.

When it comes to materials, I’m not strict about it, but I feel that — despite the differences — I tend to choose methods that could, in some form, have been reproduced in the past.

I don’t categorise my works by technique. The combination of different methods reflects my personal preference, but more than anything, I have used whatever means allowed me to realise the expression I was looking for.

It comes from being born in this place, and from the everyday life I shared with my parents and grandparents. They, too, inherited certain ways of living, thinking and feeling from their own parents and grandparents. That line of transmission continues directly to us today.

What interests me is this ongoing continuity of ordinary life and culture — the things that may not seem special, but have been passed down quietly from generation to generation.

Research is an essential part of my practice. I draw on historical materials to find ideas and stories through which I can depict the people. In that sense, my work relies on the records left behind by those who came before us, as well as on the efforts of the people who have preserved, edited and passed them on.

I use both.

The ideas themselves mostly come from offline sources — from past experiences, of course, but also from books and, at times, from fieldwork. I use online research mainly as a way to find and access those materials.

Sometimes I come across other ideas while searching, but for now I usually research with a specific purpose in mind.

I use ink because it has always been something familiar and close at hand, both in the past and today. I feel that not using anything particularly special brings me closer to the themes I am working with. I am drawn to what exists within ordinary, unspectacular things — and this is why I imagine a kind of beauty created by the people, for the people; a beauty that exists before it is elevated to the status of art.

In Japanese graphic design from around the 1960s onwards — a period I particularly like — there are many works that still stand out as highly individual forms of expression. They have had a strong influence on me, in the sense that they made me want to create something like that myself.

At the same time, I see this more as an influence on my artistic expression. I don’t think I have the skill to produce that kind of work as design within the context of client projects.

If you are asking whether I can freely adapt my expression in response to a request, then no, I cannot.

The forms I am working with now are the result of creating while searching for my own style. I think about the themes that give rise to those forms, and I set certain constraints for the expression.

When I change the form of expression, I start by changing the theme. I need to decide why it should take that particular form. In that sense, I am not very flexible. It is only as a result that my work may appear to take on various different styles.

All of my works are based on themes drawn from Japanese everyday life, customs and events — in other words, from our folk culture. Although I work across different media, everything remains an expression of that same theme.

The vases, lanterns and shochu were made possible through the cooperation of the people who produce them, who supported the creation of works for my solo exhibition. Each of these objects has long been close to the lives of ordinary people.

In the exhibition “Tamiga”, using media other than paper was an attempt to approach the theme from multiple angles. I wanted to see whether these different forms could lead viewers to rediscover, or newly recognise, how various things, objects and practices are embedded in everyday life and culture.

I sometimes make engimono — auspicious objects or lucky charms.

The reason I chose the raised paw of the maneki-neko was that I began to think about what separates an ordinary cat from a lucky beckoning cat. The difference, of course, is the raised paw. So I imagined the paw itself as a kind of concentrated form of good fortune, and gave that idea physical shape. The phrase “maneki-neko’s paw” also contains a playful pun.

I imagine that in the past there were many more shops selling auspicious objects than there are today. For this work, I created a kind of fictional story around those shops: that they might once have competed with one another, each claiming that their lucky charms brought more good fortune than anyone else’s.

They were recently reprinted, so they are now available again.

Hand-Drawn Lettering Book, third edition

https://ec.teradahideji.com/items/147599506

For this publication, I brought together around 300 drawn letters and illustrations that I had previously shared on social media. The book is both an archive of my lettering work and a personal document. Over time, my way of drawing letters has gradually changed, shaped by new knowledge, shifting interests and different points of fascination. Looking back at these changes has become a valuable learning experience.
 

ODOLI Book, third edition

https://ec.teradahideji.com/items/113726581

The solo exhibition “ODOLI” held in 2023 consisted of 100 “mono-tachi” dancing freely in unconventional forms, accompanied by musical words from folk songs in various regions of Japan, posters and original drawings. This book is a collection of all the exhibited works.

Solo Exhibition “Tamiga” Catalogue, the new publication

https://ec.teradahideji.com/items/147600860

This exhibition explored the prayers and wishes embedded in Japanese ceremonies, beliefs, and customs that have been passed down as part of daily life. It unearthed the sensibilities of “the people” that underlie these traditions from a contemporary perspective.

For this exhibition, I am challenging myself to work on a larger scale than in my previous drawings.

The exhibition coincides with Kyoto’s Gion Matsuri, one of Japan’s most important festivals. During this time, forces of misfortune that are normally kept at a distance are invited in, enshrined, and then ritually sent away. This act of welcoming, honouring and releasing them is connected to the idea of senkyaku.

Inspired by the structure of the festival, I chose the title “Welcome Them In, Celebrate, and See You Next Year.”

I am currently in the process of creating the works.

Hideji Terada Solo Exhibition
“Welcome Them In, Celebrate, and See You Next Year”

10 July – 26 July 2026

At haku kyoto, @haku_kyoto
566 Nakanomachi, Shimogyo-ku, Kyoto, Japan

There is no particular place that I would describe as special to me. The closest would probably be Yoyogi Hachimangū. Whenever I have the chance, even when there is no special occasion, I go there to pay my respects.

What makes it special to me is precisely the fact that it has become part of my life in an ordinary, unexceptional way.

The places that inspire me are those where I can sense traces of the past and of history within everyday life.