Painting the Pause: Misato Suzuki
Uprise Art: Where are you from and where do you reside?
Misato Suzuki: I was born and raised in Aomori, Japan, and I currently reside in Encinitas, California.
UA: What necessities do you require when making your art?
MS: Podcasts, music, coffee, and charcoal pencils by the General Pencil Company.
UA: Describe a typical day in the studio for you.
MS: After seeing my girls off to school, I brew some coffee. My day begins by listening to Japanese podcasts and catching up on events in Japan. As I listen to the news, I gaze at my paintings, reflect on my thoughts, and sip my coffee—all while continuing to paint until it’s time to pick up the girls.
UA: What is the most difficult part of the artistic process for you?
MS: For me, the hardest part is definitely just getting started on a blank canvas. Once I'm in it, the toughest moments are when I hit a wall—like when I lose my direction or realize what I’m making looks nothing like what I pictured in my head, and I have no idea how to save it.
UA: Are there any aspects of your process that are left to chance?
MS: Yes. This connects to what I mentioned earlier, but when things go wrong during the creative process, the resulting outcome—arising from spontaneous, accidental occurrences—often turns out even better than expected. Since this happens quite frequently, you could say that I do, in fact, leave things to chance.
UA: How do you choose your materials?
MS: I love working on raw canvas treated with a matte medium—it preserves the natural color and lets the texture breathe. Instead of paint just sitting on top, I want the pigment and the surface to become one thing. Leaving patches of bare canvas as negative space is a big part of that too; it keeps the work feeling open and alive.
UA: How has your work developed in the past few years, and how do you see it evolving in the future?
MS: In the past few years, I feel like my colors and compositions have finally clicked. That shift really happened because I started asking myself more why I’m making a piece before diving in. I still work intuitively and let the process guide me, rather than sticking to a strict plan, but I’m much more intentional now about the story behind each series—where my patterns come from and what the palette represents. It’s made my connection to the work feel a lot deeper.
UA: What are you currently working on in the studio?
MS: This summer, I moved into a new space—my first relocation in 12 years—and was immediately swamped with a constant stream of commissions. Now that those are completed, I’m in the process of resetting my studio environment while brainstorming ideas for my next body of work.
UA: Have you always worked with paint? Are there different materials you’ve experimented with in the past?
MS: Yes, I primarily use acrylics these days, but when I first started studying painting at university, oil painting was the mainstream.
UA: How did you develop your process? What led you to it, and how did you know it was the right one to pursue?
MS: My work today is really the result of simplifying things in my own way—cutting out the extra noise and leaving open space. Still, there are moments when I’m pulled toward the complete opposite, creating dense compositions with tons of layers. Going back and forth between those two extremes feels just like how I navigate my identity between Japan and California. I have no idea if it’s the 'right' path, though—I feel like I’m still very much in an undercurrent.
UA: Do you find that your environment relates to your work? Either in the studio or outside of it?
MS: Living in California while maintaining deep roots in Japan is a huge source of inspiration for me. Being away from home actually makes me think more about my Japanese identity, and comparing the two cultures helps me notice things I might otherwise miss. This awareness carries directly into my daily life. I’ve come to realize that my creative process doesn't stop when I leave the studio. Running a household, raising teenagers, and dealing with daily responsibilities aren't obstacles to my art—they are part of it. The rhythms of everyday life, the challenges, and the emotional highs and lows all feed into my work. My art and my life are completely inseparable.
UA: What tangible objects or intangible moments are you most interested in representing through your works?
MS: We live in a society where everything feels like it needs a clear, definitive answer, so I’m really interested in representing those intangible moments of pause and open-endedness. In my paintings, I intentionally leave 'empty space' on the canvas. By combining those unpainted areas with a thoughtful color palette, I hope to share the beauty in things that are incomplete, and remind people that it’s okay for things to remain a little ambiguous.
UA: How do the different elements form and color come together in your works?
MS: I create my work by embracing the "discrepancies" between colors and shapes—whether that means a slight gap or an irregular form defined by imperfect lines. There is a unique beauty in combining these flawed elements; they bring a distinct softness to the piece and reveal a captivating interplay between contrasting components.
UA: How does your choice of color inform the final piece?
MS: For me, the choice of color establishes the very foundation of a work. From that first breath, color weaves the narrative together and brings the piece to its ultimate completion. In that sense, one could truly say that color is everything in my work.
UA: Where do you find your day-to-day inspiration?
MS: I find raw inspiration in the everyday details that surround me: the color palette of a textile hidden in a magazine, the pattern of a floor, the quality of light amidst a dense crowd, a memory fragment, or a single frame from a film. Ultimately, I am inspired by the things that evoke a sense of quiet wonder or trigger a distant memory, transforming ordinary, fleeting moments into the visual poetry of my paintings.
UA: Are you influenced by any author or non-visual artist? Or an artist that does something completely different than you?
MS: Yes, all the time. I pull a lot from music, traditional Japanese crafts, and live performance—especially Noh, Jōruri, Flamenco, and the choreography of Pina Bausch, as well as the poetry of Shuntarō Tanikawa. Anything overflowing with real, raw human emotion gets to me.
UA: Are you formally trained? Who did you study with?
MS: Meeting a local painter by chance changed everything for me. I was completely captivated by her work, and that encounter is ultimately what inspired me to major in art at university. Later on, I had the good fortune of studying under two remarkable professors. One, a painting professor, opened my eyes to the path of graduate studies. The other, a sculpture professor, offered far more than just academic guidance. Through his lifestyle—tending his own grapevines and apple trees, and even making his own wine—he embodied an ideal vision of what it means to be an artist. I feel truly lucky to have crossed paths with such inspiring, grounded mentors.
UA: Do you remember the first work of art that captured your attention?
MS: It was the landscapes and portraits painted by my first oil painting teacher—the woman who inspired me to pick up a brush in the first place. Walking into her studio and seeing her work for the first time left a huge impression on me. Her lines had that decisive yet imperfect energy you see in Egon Schiele’s work. I was so drawn to that feeling that I started painting myself, and I’ve been fascinated by Schiele’s raw, psychological expression ever since.
UA: Do you admire or draw inspiration from any of your peers who are also working now? Have you ever collaborated, or would you? How solitary is your art-making process?
MS: I find the work of Japanese photographer Shingo Goya deeply inspiring —I love his colors and the quiet vibe of the objects he captures. Painting is mostly a solo process, so collaborating is how I keep things fresh and exciting. I’ve put my art on skateboards and knitwear, which was super fun to see in real life. Looking ahead, I want to explore entirely new directions—such as collaborating with a poet or applying my designs to ceramics.
UA: Is there any artwork on display in your home/studio? Whose is it?
MS: I have pieces by Katsuo Design and Umar Rashid—they’re actually friends I used to share a studio with back when I lived in Los Angeles. I also display a ceramic piece by Adam Silverman that I collected.
UA: What’s one of your favorite objects you own? What’s the story?
MS: My favorite objects are vintage books and a few cameras my grandfather left behind. I picked them out from his extensive collection, and they always remind me of our annual year-end family slideshows—it’s a great way to keep his memory close. As for my books, I’ve tracked down several rare editions from around the world. I’ve always loved tangible objects, so I really appreciate the feel and craftsmanship of antique paper.
UA: Is there something people would be surprised to learn about you?
MS: I once lived on a dairy farm in Indiana for an entire year.
UA: What’s next for you?
MS: I intend to continue focusing deeply on my studio practice, just as I always have, while constantly striving to push my work to a higher level. At the same time, I hope to expand my reach and share my art by holding more exhibitions in the future.
Published November 13, 2026
