Interview with Acky Bright
The artist discusses his first solo show in New York, how leaving his desk job was the best decision he ever made, and how art can transcend borders and bring people together.
By Kyoko Sato, photos by Aaron Lee Fineman
October 28, 2024
Osaka-born, self-taught artist Acky Bright began his artistic career at 17, designing pochibukuro (small money envelopes) for Kabuki-za, Tokyo’s principal kabuki theater. Throughout his journey, he worked as a graphic designer and in promotional roles but found the work unfulfilling. In 2019, he made the pivotal decision to fully dedicate himself to being an artist. Since then, Acky has seen remarkable success and has never looked back on his desk job.
Japan Contemporaries recently sat down with Acky to discuss his rapid rise in the art world, the power of art to transcend borders, and the unique joy of creating collaborative artwork in New York with his fans. He emphasized how these deeply human experiences, especially the joy of individual creation, are important in an increasingly electronic world. “I want to show that the process of creating art is fun… I hope that when people see my work, they go home and feel inspired to draw themselves.” He continued that there is a joy in the process where the time spent working on a singular piece of art transcends anything that simply writing a prompt into a machine can match. “It’s something only artists can experience, and if that feeling comes across, even a little, I’d be happy.”
Acky’s first solo exhibition, “Acky Bright: Studio Infinity,” is being held at the Japan Society from October 4, 2024, to January 19, 2025. Some exhibition-related events and promotions have been arranged by Anime NYC and Kinokuniya Bookstore. As part of his New York tour, he also performed a live drawing session at the Kinokuniya booth during New York Comic Con (October 17-20, 2024), celebrating the release of his art book, “B/W.”
Acky Bright (@acky_bright) • Instagram photos and videos
Acky Bright Studio Infinity trailer: Acky Bright: Studio Infinity at Japan Society
Japan Contemporaries (JC): What do you think about working on the global stage as a Japanese artist?
Acky Bright (AB): I think it would be great if more people did what I’m doing. I didn’t have a benchmark to follow, but two years ago, I got an artist visa from the U.S., and that made me feel like I really had to make things happen. If I’m enjoying myself, I hope more people will feel like they want to try too. I want to meet more people who want to step out and take chances, even if they’re not hardcore into fine art. The U.S. is a place where anyone has a chance, so I hope people think, “If he can do it, maybe I can too.”
JC: That’s a wonderful mindset!
AB: I don’t overestimate myself; I keep things in perspective. The key is to enjoy the process.
JC: You have a distinct accent. Where are you from?
AB: I’m from Osaka. But right now, about 90% of my work is in the U.S. Since around the pandemic, I’ve been getting more and more jobs overseas.
JC: Is your base in Japan still in Osaka?
AB: No, it’s in Tokyo. I’ve been there for over 10 years. I started working under the artist name Acky Bright around 2019. Before that, I mainly did graphic design and promotional work. I used to work without using my name. In 2019, something clicked, and I decided to put my name out there and start doing art. That’s when I also started doing live drawing for the first time.
JC: What was the reason behind that decision?
AB: One reason was that I wanted to work overseas. Another was that I felt stuck in promotional work—it wasn’t fun for me anymore. Then I thought, “Oh, right, I can draw. So maybe I should put my name out there and market myself.” That’s when I started posting my work on Instagram and other platforms. Many artists discovered me, and things started expanding from there.
JC: It’s only been five years, yet your work has grown so much.
AB: Even I’m surprised. I never thought I’d be able to do so much. It’s a strange feeling to be here in New York, drawing at places like Japan Society and Comic-Con.
JC: Is this Japan Society exhibition your first solo show abroad?
AB: Yes, it’s my first solo exhibition in the U.S. I think it’s also Japan Society’s first time hosting an exhibition like this, so I felt a bit of pressure and wondered if I was the right fit.
JC: The exhibition started in August 2024 as a limited preview. How has that gone?
AB: It’s been great. Young artists always come to watch me draw, sit next to me, and start sketching together. That makes me really happy. This kind of thing is unique to New York; I’ve never experienced anything like it before. Even in Japan, when I’ve done live drawing for two weeks straight, I never had an experience like this.
JC: It sounds like you’ve experienced New York’s sense of freedom. When we enter the exhibition, the first thing we see is A-Un. Was that a theme you personally chose?
AB: Yes. For this exhibition, I created a new series called KBK-18. My first paid job as an artist was when I was a teenager, around 17, drawing designs for pochibukuro (small money envelopes) for Kabuki-za. I turned the Kabuki Jūhachiban (selected 18 Kabuki plays chosen by the 7th generation Ichikawa Danjūrō) into child characters, and I drew several of them. So when I thought about this being my first solo exhibition in America and the history of Japan Society, I wondered what it would be like to draw Kabuki characters now, mixing them with American culture, anime, and manga. I decided to create cyberpunk versions of Kabuki Jūhachiban. From there, I thought that the works for this exhibition should have Japanese themes, which is how I ended up choosing A-un for the entrance.
For this live drawing as well, the theme is Japanese culture. I’m drawing the Four Guardian Beasts that protect the four directions: Genbu (North), Seiryu (East), Suzaku (South), and lastly, Byakko (West), which will complete the set.
JC: Was it just by chance that your first work focused on Kabuki?
AB: It was because someone I knew was involved in that kind of work. But I’ve always liked Japanese culture—Kabuki, Rakugo, and so on. Growing up in Osaka, I also went to see Bunraku as a kid, and I’m familiar with Noh and Kyogen as well.
JC: Are you entirely self-taught when it comes to drawing?
AB: Yes. I’ve been doing illustration work and drawing manga since I was a teenager. When I started my own design company in my early twenties, I worked by myself. I’ve never been part of an organization or had any formal academic training. That might have caused some struggles along the way, but it also allows me to take on projects like this one in America without hesitation and just enjoy the experience.
JC: When you first started drawing this Suzaku wall, where did you begin?
AB: I usually start with the eyes. In this case, I began with Suzaku’s eyes. During live drawing, I draw freely as I go, but I need to capture the interest of people passing by. That’s why I start with faces or eyes. When I draw a face, it grabs people’s attention. So, I try to get the face done as quickly and boldly as possible.
JC: In your drawing we see a Suzaku bottom center, along with a girl, a skeleton, and an Oni bottom right. Do you come up with these elements as you go along?
AB: There are different ways to approach drawing. While I develop the main motif like this, I’m working in a scratch style, so if I were to create each motif in full detail one by one, I wouldn’t be able to create any overlap. That’s why I draw the motifs separately. I use the sense of balance I’ve honed from graphic design to maintain the overall layout while I draw. Also, when there’s an audience, even if I’m filling in black areas or adding touches, that might not be interesting for them to watch, so I deliberately create new elements in the white spaces to entertain them. Since I have to keep drawing whenever I’m in the gallery, I adjust as I go. This is more of a performance than studio work, so I take a performance-based approach. I don’t use drafts or guidelines; it’s all done ad-lib. Otherwise, it would be tough to maintain the right mindset when drawing in front of people for long periods. If it feels like I’m making mistakes or getting bored with the drawing, the process becomes mentally exhausting. That’s why I try not to set a specific goal and just go with the flow, even though I make lots of mistakes, but I incorporate those mistakes into the drawing. Also, I can’t stop, so when I’m drawing and people are watching, if I start overthinking, I’ll freeze up. To avoid that, I have a plan, like, “If I get stuck, I’ll draw this part,” or, “While I’m working on this, I’ll think about how to handle that section,” so I’m constantly thinking about the whole piece and drawing without stopping throughout the day.
Drawing without having a set plan is challenging, like needing to keep your fridge stocked so you can cook at any time. That’s why it’s important to always be drawing and staying sharp. During live performances, the approach is different, and I make mistakes, but it’s also a reminder to myself that I still have a lot to learn. Every time I think, “You’re not there yet,” but that motivates me to try harder next time.
I also have a message and theme I want to convey. I want to show that the process of creating art is fun, and I want people to feel like, “He looks like he’s enjoying himself while drawing.” I hope that when people see my work, they go home and feel inspired to draw themselves. Nowadays, you can see so many artworks on your smartphone, but I want to communicate the amount of time and effort an artist puts into creating a single piece. With AI becoming more prevalent, before we talk about whether it’s good or bad, I want people to understand that the fun of drawing lies in the process. It’s something only artists can experience, and if that feeling comes across, even a little, I’d be happy.
JC: Is doing this as a performance, where people are watching you, a challenge for you?
AB: Yes, it’s a challenge, but it’s also fun. I’ve done live performances in China, America, and Japan, and no matter the country, people’s reactions are the same. They’re seeing something large-scale and done in scratch style, something they usually don’t see on a screen, so it’s interesting and rewarding. I’m drawing partly to make people say “Wow!”
JC: It’s a form of communication, then.
AB: Yes, exactly. In terms of the quality of the finished work, of course, something drawn on a small piece of paper with a pre-draft will be more polished. But I’m not trying to say, “Look at how perfectly finished this artwork is.” For me, it’s all about the process. I believe the piece is only complete when I’m physically there, working on it. Often, when I see the finished piece, I think, “I could have done better,” but that’s part of live drawing. It has a charm that’s different from digital work, and I believe this type of piece can only be created in this particular environment and on this scale. More than anything, it’s a time that reminds me I need to keep pushing myself as an artist.
JC: Speaking of this piece, the theme is the four mythical beasts. Do you imagine a story involving these creatures as you draw them?
AB: That’s a question I get asked a lot. I actually like leaving some gaps for the viewer to interpret. People often ask me to give my works titles, but I don’t usually title my pieces. I prefer to leave room for viewers to think for themselves. If you explain a face as “sad,” for example, then everyone views it with that preconceived notion. But if someone else sees that same face as “angry,” I think it’s better to allow for that kind of interpretation. I’m not against titles, and when I draw manga, I do create stories. But with these kinds of artworks, I like letting the audience come up with their own thoughts.
JC: I noticed that the faces of the girls you draw are often quite striking, and they tend to look unhappy. Is there a reason for that?
AB: That’s an interesting question. Originally, I didn’t really enjoy drawing female characters, even before I started working as an artist. I did it for work, of course, but not as part of my personal creations. However, when I decided to pursue art professionally, I realized that being able to draw women is important, especially in the Japanese art scene, so I started practicing. As for whether they look unhappy—well, in my drawings, the girls are usually paired with mechanical elements. I think that’s because I felt a bit shy about drawing women in a more natural, unadorned state. There was some resistance and embarrassment in drawing them as they were, without the mechanical parts. I was more used to drawing older men, so by adding mechanical features, I was trying to hide my awkwardness. This style, where the girls are fused with machinery, ended up becoming my signature and is one of the reasons I became well-known. Maybe the girls look unhappy because, deep down, I don’t really want to keep drawing them anymore! (Laughs) I hadn’t thought about it that way before. Instead of making them smile, I aim to give them a strong, cool presence—like something a middle-school boy would think is awesome.
JC: You often combine opposing concepts like cute and cool, white and black, life and death. Is that something you consciously aim for?
AB: I think that’s something I explain afterward. There are things that can only be combined within a drawing, things that don’t exist in reality. So instead of drawing something real, I prefer to create things that don’t exist. I’m not good at drawing from reference materials, and it’s easier or more freeing for me to draw things that don’t exist because there’s no need for accuracy. I don’t usually look at photos or real-life references when I draw, as I don’t enjoy it. By combining different ideas, I can create something new, and I think that’s how my style developed.
JC: Do you have any goals or things you’d like to try in the future?
AB: I’m involved in various activities, so I’m heading in multiple directions. There are different opinions in the industry, like whether someone doing contemporary art should also be involved in commercial work. But one thing I want to do is create intellectual property (IP), whether it’s a manga, a film, or an anime. I really admire Akira Toriyama, and when he passed away, people all over the world, regardless of race, religion, or culture, mourned him. That shows just how many fans he has. Only entertainment, art, and music can transcend borders and bring people together like that. Even though I’m on a much smaller scale, I also have fans around the world, and I want to create a community where people enjoy my work without conflict or war.
Another goal is that I plan to do more live drawings overseas next year, and I want to spread the joy of creating murals. If there are opportunities for exhibitions, I’ll take them. As long as I can do what I want at the right time, I feel like there’s a place for someone like me in this big world. There aren’t many people in Japan drawing American comics, and it was a first for McDonald’s to use an individual artist like me for their packaging. I’m interested in doing things no one else has done before, and it’s not about fitting into any particular art context or being popular in Japan. Because I have a track record in the U.S., I’m given more chances by different people. I don’t want to limit myself, so I do a lot of different things—manga, American comics, contemporary art—and I feel like my overall style of working is my artwork. In the future, people might doubt whether ideas come from AI, but I think individual activity itself will become a form of art.
Kyoko Sato has written for Art Review City, Shukan NY Seikatsu, New York Standard on Gallery Tagboat and ONBEAT. She is the co-publisher of Japan Contemporaries.
Aaron Lee Fineman was nominated for a Pulitzer Prize in Breaking News and was part of a team that contributed to The New York Times winning a Pulitzer Prize for Public Service for the coverage following the September 11, 2001 terrorist attacks. He has also contributed to publications including The Wall Street Journal, The Washington Post Magazine, TIME, and Newsweek, among others.