Samurai Baroque Basara on Steroids – Gold and Blood, Katanas and Motorcycles in the Art of Tenmyouya Hisashi
Art on the Warpath
Gold does not always signify beauty, and tradition is not always peaceful. Tenmyouya Hisashi is an artist who grabbed Japanese painting by the collar and shook it so hard that dust first fell from the gilded folding screens, followed by blood. The samurai of historical scrolls transformed into a disquieting fusion of bushidō warriors, yakuza, and graffiti artists. His style—neo-nihonga—is not just a revival of classical Japanese aesthetics but its brutal deconstruction. This is art that does not bow to tradition but also does not ignore it—it stares it straight in the eye and asks: What’s left of you?
His paintings are war. War between the past and the present, between pure aesthetics and the aggression of street subcultures, between what is sacred and what is blasphemously beautiful. Kamikaze (2003) does not pay homage to suicide pilots—instead, it turns their fighter plane into a bosozoku vehicle adorned with gangster motifs. Baku (2010) is not a sweet guardian of dreams—it is a powerful yōkai, equally capable of devouring hope and fear. Fighting Spirit (2008) does not depict noble warriors but rather a savage, lawless battle—a metaphor for fighting against oneself and the world.
Tenmyouya is an artistic gunslinger who fits into no category. He is too modern for nihonga traditionalists but too brutal for pop-culture aesthetes under the superflat banner of Murakami. He criticizes both blind imitation of the West and the conservatism that has turned nihonga into a closed sanctuary. He refuses to accept the division of Japanese art into “pure” and “tainted.” His style is Basara—the same Basara we know from the samurai baroque of the Sengoku period—visual extravagance, rebellion, and unashamed power.
Is his art militarism, or is it the deconstruction of the warrior myth? Does it glorify violence, or does it expose it? One thing is certain—it cannot be ignored. Tenmyouya Hisashi forces the viewer to think, provokes, and asks uncomfortable questions about Japan’s identity. Are you ready to step onto this battlefield?
Who is the Artist?
Tenmyouya Hisashi is one of the most intriguing contemporary Japanese artists, redefining the boundaries between traditional nihonga painting and modern Japanese aesthetics for years. He creates in the unique style of neo-nihonga, merging ancient symbolism with modern techniques and themes inspired by samurai culture, street art, and the gangster glamour of the yakuza. He currently lives and works in Saitama, and his work is represented by Mizuma Art Gallery in Tokyo.
Beginnings
Tenmyouya was born in 1966 in Tokyo, at a time of Japan’s rapid modernization, when tradition and modernity clashed in nearly every aspect of life. Unlike many of his contemporaries, he did not receive formal artistic training. Instead, he began his career in the design industry, creating album covers for music releases. This experience sharpened his aesthetic sense and taught him how to combine visual appeal with a strong message.
Although his work in graphic design provided stability, Tenmyouya felt that it restricted his creative freedom. He began painting independently, searching for a style that would bring something new to contemporary Japanese art. In the 1990s, he increasingly exhibited his work in competitions and galleries, gaining recognition as an artist who boldly deconstructed traditional nihonga forms. His paintings began attracting critical attention due to their striking combination of classical techniques and aggressive, rebellious motifs, which aligned him more with street aesthetics than academic painting.
The turning point in his career came in 2001, when he formulated the concept of neo-nihonga, opposing both the dominant trends of traditional nihonga and modern Western painting. His approach was controversial yet captivating, as it proposed a new path for Japanese art—one that not only recreates the past but creatively reshapes it.
Current Work
Today, Tenmyouya Hisashi is an established artist who regularly exhibits both in Japan and internationally. His paintings and installations have been featured in prestigious galleries and museums, and collectors appreciate his distinctive vision of Japanese art. While Hisashi’s work often sparks controversy—especially regarding its militaristic and historical references—his pieces are also full of humor, irony, and a conscious play with Japanese iconography.
Tenmyouya is currently associated with Mizuma Art Gallery, one of Japan’s leading contemporary art galleries, which promotes artists seeking to create something entirely new and bold. Beyond painting, he also engages in interdisciplinary projects, including collaborations with brands and paint manufacturers like Turner Colour Works, with whom he developed a special line of acrylic paints in traditional Japanese color schemes.
Neo-Nihonga – Revival and Deconstruction
Concept
To understand neo-nihonga, one must first recall what nihonga itself is. Nihonga is a style of Japanese painting that emerged during the Meiji era as an attempt to preserve traditional aesthetics in the face of growing Western artistic influences (yōga). Nihonga is characterized by the use of classical materials such as mineral pigments, ink, and animal glue, as well as themes inspired by nature, Buddhism, and mythology. Though its creators declared their commitment to the "Japanese spirit", the style gradually became institutionalized, transforming into a conservative, academic form of art, often criticized for being disconnected from contemporary realities.
In opposition to this, Tenmyouya Hisashi introduced the concept of neo-nihonga in 2001, describing it as a radical refresh of Japanese painting through modernization and deconstruction. In his view, contemporary nihonga had lost its authenticity, closing itself off from new ideas and clinging blindly to traditional materials and the hierarchical structure of the art world. Neo-nihonga retains the spirit of old Japanese artworks but uses modern techniques and themes that better reflect contemporary Japan.
Techniques and Materials
Unlike classical nihonga, which requires the use of natural pigments, ink, and washi paper, Tenmyouya deliberately chooses modern media. His works are created with acrylic paint, which allows for more intense colors and aggressive brushstrokes. Instead of traditional silk or paper, he often paints on wood, referencing historical techniques used for byōbu (folding screens) and fusuma (sliding doors).
His linework resembles the precision of ukiyo-e woodblock prints, but it is more dynamic, often featuring sharp contours, gold backgrounds, and strong contrasts, giving his paintings a dramatic, battle-ready character. In some pieces, the artist incorporates graffiti elements and scratching techniques, adding rawness and a street-art aesthetic.
Inspirations and References
Tenmyouya’s neo-nihonga is not merely a simple imitation of past styles—it is a conscious reinterpretation, blending various elements of Japanese tradition and modern pop culture. His main influences include:
- Ukiyo-e – Dynamic compositions and expressive contours
- Rinpa school – The use of gold backgrounds, ornamentation, and decorative elegance
- Momoyama-period painting – Monumentality and expressive intensity
- Samurai military aesthetics – Warriors in armor, symbols of strength and honor
- Japanese street subcultures – Yakuza, bosozoku, graffiti, and irezumi tattoos as modern forms of expression
Before we analyze his individual works, let’s first take a closer look at this bold, original artist’s paintings.
神風
(Kamikaze)
Kamikaze
- Tenmyouya Hisashi, 2003, Museum of Contemporary Art Tokyo
One of Tenmyouya Hisashi’s most controversial works, Kamikaze (2003), at first glance appears to embrace classical Japanese battle aesthetics, but beneath its surface lies a multi-layered play of meanings. The painting depicts a Mitsubishi A6M Zero, the legendary fighter plane of the Japanese Navy during World War II, which in his interpretation is radically transformed. The artist reimagines it as a bosozoku vehicle—modified like the flamboyant motorcycles of Japanese biker gangs, featuring extravagant decorations, elongated exhaust pipes, aggressive lines, and rebellious emblems. The golden background, typical of traditional Japanese painting (such as the byōbu folding screens from the Momoyama period), enhances the monumental feeling of the piece while simultaneously deconstructing the past.
The symbolism of Kamikaze unfolds on multiple levels, confronting the viewer with Japan’s relationship with its own history. The title refers both to the kamikaze pilots of the war and the "divine wind" that was said to have saved Japan from Mongol invasions (more on this here: Kamikaze – Two Divine Typhoons of Life, One Grim Wind of Death). However, instead of paying tribute to wartime heroism, Tenmyouya creates a sarcastic deconstruction of Japan’s militaristic mythos. By transforming the Zero into an exaggerated, gang-inspired machine, he points to how modern Japan subconsciously mythologizes its war history while simultaneously distancing itself from it, unsure of how to truly confront its legacy. The work also serves as a critique of masculinity, which has long been embedded in Japan’s warrior archetype—from samurai, through kamikaze pilots, to modern bosozoku gangs.
Kamikaze can also be seen as a rebellion against the status quo of Japanese art and its entanglement in nationalist narratives. Unlike classical nihonga, which often avoids controversial themes, Tenmyouya provocatively blends war motifs, street subculture, and Japan’s modern identity, raising the question: Has Japan truly come to terms with its wartime past? Though dynamic and almost heroic at first glance, the work contains elements of irony, grotesque, and unease, forcing the viewer to reflect on how contemporary society interprets its history. In this way, Tenmyouya does not merely reinterpret art—he challenges nationalistic myths embedded in it. There are also alternative versions of this concept, including the transformation of the kamikaze plane into a mecha (a robotic war machine, as seen in anime).
獏
(Baku)
Baku (The Mythical Dream Eater, Yōkai)
- Tenmyouya Hisashi, 2010, Japan Society, New York
Tenmyouya Hisashi’s Baku (2010) depicts the mythological creature known as baku, a "dream eater" from Japanese folklore. Traditionally, baku is described as a chimera-like being with features of various animals—often depicted with the body of a bear, the trunk of an elephant, the eyes of a rhinoceros, and the paws of a tiger. In Tenmyouya’s version, however, baku is transformed into a monumental, almost divine figure, emerging from a decorative golden background that evokes traditional Japanese temple paintings and byōbu screens. Its intricate body patterns resemble both classical Japanese textile motifs and irezumi tattoos, associated with yakuza culture (more on irezumi tattoos here: Irezumi: The Japanese Art of Ukiyo-e Masters in Yakuza Tattooing). By merging tradition and modernity, the artist elevates baku to an almost sacred status.
In folklore, baku serves a dual role—it protects people from nightmares, but at the same time, it can consume dreams and hopes if not properly fed. Tenmyouya emphasizes this duality of hope and fear, portraying baku as both a powerful guardian and an ambiguous force. In his interpretation, it is not merely a gentle dream protector but a figure of uncertainty, balancing between protection and threat. This resonates with the human subconscious, where dreams can be both a source of inspiration and terror (more on dreams in Japanese culture here: Hatsuyume – The First Dream of the Year: Planning a Year with Strength, Wisdom, and Discipline).
Baku can also be read as a metaphor for modern Japan, which struggles with its own identity. In Tenmyouya’s vision, baku is no longer just a benevolent spirit of the subconscious—its monumental, divine form evokes an unfathomable force, resisting any clear interpretation.
One might see in this an analogy to Japan itself, a country that cherishes its traditions while simultaneously reconstructing them in new contexts, not always with full awareness. The artist seems to suggest that the past is not static—it is a living element of culture, capable of being both a source of strength and a burden. What was meant to protect can also consume—just like baku, which in folklore devours not only nightmares but also the dreams of the sleeper.
The golden background, typical of traditional Japanese aesthetics, serves both as a symbol of sacredness and a decorative function. For centuries, Japan has constructed its visual identity around idealized images of harmony, beauty, and spiritual tranquility—motifs present in classical nihonga, wabi-sabi aesthetics, and Zen Buddhist art. However, in Baku, this gold is not just mystical—it serves as an ironic contrast: its monumental brightness envelops a being that is both a guardian spirit and a potential danger. Through this, Tenmyouya underscores the duality of historical memory, which can be both the foundation of culture and its weight. Just as modern Japan cannot entirely escape the shadow of its past, so too does the viewer remain suspended between admiration and unease when facing the formidable presence of baku.
モダンジャパン: 鎌倉九侍
(Modern Japan: Kamakura Kyū Samurai)
Modern Japan: Kamakura Nine Samurai
- Tenmyouya Hisashi, 2001, Contemporary Japanese Youth Culture Scroll
The painting Modern Japan: Kamakura Nine Samurai depicts nine young men dressed in modern clothing, posing in front of the Great Buddha of Kamakura (Kamakura Daibutsu). The figures exhibit a range of postures and attributes—some hold traditional samurai katanas, while others wield graffiti spray cans. Their attire is a hybrid of classical and contemporary elements—some wear samurai kabuto helmets or shinobi masks, while others adopt hairstyles reminiscent of samurai tonsures but in a modern, stylized manner. Their stances and gestures draw inspiration from contemporary hip-hop subcultures, reinforcing the fusion of historical and modern aesthetics. In the corner, a boombox is adorned with samurai-related ornaments, such as arrows, battle banners, and a folding fan.
The background creates a stark contrast with the figures—the Buddha statue exudes tranquility and spiritual depth, but it is also defaced with colorful graffiti, disrupting the image of sacred serenity. Completing the scene, a flock of birds soars across a blue sky, with greenery visible in the distance, all drawn in a style reminiscent of Edo-period ukiyo-e prints.
The Great Buddha of Kamakura, one of Japan’s most iconic landmarks, traditionally symbolizes unchanging spiritual harmony. In Tenmyouya’s piece, however, it serves as a backdrop for a new generation, seemingly in the process of redefining Japan’s identity. The juxtaposition of samurai weaponry with graffiti cans highlights the clash of old and new ideals—samurai values versus youth counterculture. The aggressive and dynamic color palette mirrors traditional Japanese painting, but its intensity suggests tension between past and present.
Tenmyouya challenges the idealization of history, questioning whether modern Japan still carries the samurai spirit or has abandoned it for contemporary values. By placing symbols of traditional warriors alongside elements of street rebellion, he provokes the viewer to consider whether tradition and modernity can coexist, or must remain in constant conflict. Through neo-nihonga, Tenmyouya refuses to offer clear answers, instead leaving the viewer to construct their own interpretation.
闘魂
(Tōkon)
Fighting Spirit
- Tenmyouya Hisashi, 2008, Mizuma Art Gallery, Tokyo
Tōkon (Fighting Spirit) is one of Tenmyouya Hisashi’s most dynamic and introspective works. The painting depicts a battle scene, where warriors with muscular physiques, dressed only in scant fundoshi loincloths, wield various weapons, primarily spears and bows. At the center of the composition, a lone warrior is surrounded by enemies—his back is covered with an irezumi tattoo featuring a dragon, a symbol of both strength and defiance against conventional social norms (as well as an allusion to yakuza culture). The entire scene pulsates with energy, as if it were a frozen frame of an intense fight.
The background of the painting (or rather the "floor," as the perspective is presented in isometric view) is a deep navy blue, which enhances the intensity and contrast of the composition. In contrast to classical battle paintings, where golden backgrounds often symbolized sacred prestige, Tenmyouya entirely rejects this element, giving the scene a raw, almost theatrical drama. The navy tones further deepen the sense of chaos and depth, making the warriors’ silhouettes even more vivid and dynamic.
Tenmyouya draws inspiration from traditional battle paintings of the Sengoku period, but he transforms them into a modern artistic language, blending samurai iconography with elements of counterculture. The composition is intense, filled with movement, and its isometric perspective lends the battle a distinct narrative quality.
Symbolism of the Work
The core symbolism of Tōkon revolves around internal struggle, both on an individual and societal level. The artist himself describes the painting as a "meta-level self-portrait," in which he portrays the internal conflict of his own mind through the visual metaphor of a battlefield. "It is a struggle between the contradicting yet inseparable parts of my ambiguous mind, translated into a painting of a battle scene," Tenmyouya explains.
The warriors, clad in only loincloths and adorned with tattoos, evoke samurai and sumo wrestlers, but also the modern subcultures of yakuza and bosozoku. The weapons they wield are traditional symbols of Japan’s warrior spirit, yet their portrayal suggests a primitive, almost primal battle for dominance rather than an honorable samurai duel.
Meaning and Philosophy
Tōkon can be interpreted as an existential study of conflict, both on a personal and societal level. Tenmyouya references Marcel Duchamp, who created Rrose Sélavy as his alter ego—a medium through which he could explore different facets of his identity. Similarly, in Tōkon, the warriors themselves serve as Tenmyouya’s "alter ego," embodying the tension between instinctive brutality and intellectual reflection on art.
The work can also be read more broadly—as a metaphor for Japan, which constantly struggles with its identity, attempting to reconcile its warrior, militaristic past with its modern, peaceful society. Tenmyouya offers no clear answers, leaving the viewer suspended between admiration for the warriors’ power and unease over their raw aggression. In this sense, Fighting Spirit is more than just a battle scene—it is a philosophical reflection on the very nature of conflict, both historical and psychological.
Philosophical Concepts in Tenmyouya Hisashi’s Work
Tenmyouya Hisashi’s art delves deep into Japanese tradition, yet it also serves as a rebellion against the rigid aesthetics of Nihonga. His works combine samurai iconography, historical painting styles, and modern subcultures, creating a new artistic language that can be seen as a redefinition of Japanese national identity. His philosophy is antagonistic toward otaku culture (unlike, for instance, the superflat movement of Takashi Murakami), rejects the aesthetics of Zen, and instead embraces the baroque, extravagant tradition of Basara.
Basara – The Baroque of Japan
Basara is a term originating in the Nanbokuchō period (14th century), when warriors and feudal lords demonstrated power and individuality through extravagant lifestyles, lavish clothing, and flamboyant combat tactics. In later centuries, the spirit of Basara continued in the kabukimono—rebellious warriors from the 16th and 17th centuries, whose defiant behavior openly challenged the norms of Edo-period society (more on kabukimono here: Kabukimono Longing for War: Free Spirits, Deadly Rogues, and Madmen in Women’s Kimonos).
Tenmyouya’s works fully embody this tradition. His warriors, muscular and covered in tattoos, are not the restrained samurai of the bushidō code but relics of the Basara era, reminiscent of mythical Japanese heroes like Benkei or Shuten Dōji. His artistic style is a counterweight to the minimalism of wabi-sabi and the monochromatic tranquility of Zen, instead embracing ornamentation, intense colors, aggressive composition, and theatricality.
Furthermore, Tenmyouya distances himself from otaku culture, which has dominated contemporary Japanese pop culture. He does not trivialize or simplify Japanese iconography but instead treats it as a living organism, evolving while retaining its raw power.
Graffiti and Street Art in the Japanese Context
Graffiti, as a countercultural phenomenon, is far more marginalized in Japan than in the West. Japanese society emphasizes order and collectivism, which means that traditional street art is often perceived as extreme anti-social vandalism rather than a form of artistic expression. Aware of this, Tenmyouya does not imitate Western graffiti but instead adapts its rebellious spirit to Japanese tradition.
One of his most interesting artistic approaches is the fusion of graffiti and kanji, as seen in works like 大和魂一匹狼 (Yamato damashii ippiki ōkami, "The Spirit of Japan – The Lone Wolf"). This phrase references the romanticized myth of the lone samurai, who operates outside the system, yet still embodies the essence of bushidō. Tenmyouya paints these words on wooden fragments of old Japanese houses, giving them an additional dimension—they are not just symbols of rebellion, but also physically rooted in Japan’s history.
This approach allows him to merge street art with traditional Japanese aesthetics, creating a style that is not just modern but also deeply embedded in Japan’s historical visual language.
Hostility Toward "Western" Trends in Contemporary Art
For over a century, contemporary Japanese art has grappled with its own dualism—the division between Yōga (Western-style painting) and Nihonga (Japanese-style painting). This artistic schizophrenia emerged as a result of the Meiji modernization, when Japan began aggressively absorbing Western painting techniques while simultaneously striving to preserve its artistic identity (a tension that, in fact, extends beyond art and affects nearly all aspects of Japanese life).
Tenmyouya transcends this rigid dichotomy by creating Neo-Nihonga—art that draws from Japan’s past but does so in a revolutionary rather than conservative way. His style rejects the rigid Nihonga tradition, which had become confined to mineral pigments and classical techniques, while also critiquing Western experimental art, which, in his view, often lacks substance and meaning.
His opposition to "empty experiments" in the spirit of Jackson Pollock does not mean he rejects modernity—quite the opposite. His work reflects a deliberate effort to ensure that Japan develops its own artistic path without blindly imitating the West. He refuses to copy American artistic models, but neither does he remain trapped in a rigid past—instead, he seeks to create a new artistic identity, one in which Japan finds its own artistic trajectory.
Tenmyouya is neither a traditionalist nor a Western-style postmodernist. He is an artist who redefines Japanese art on Japanese terms, without any inferiority complex toward the West.
Tenmyouya Hisashi – Reception and Controversy
Tenmyouya Hisashi’s art extends far beyond a simple reinterpretation of Japanese tradition. His style—fusing warrior aesthetics with a radical approach to history and culture—provokes both fascination and controversy. As the pioneer of Neo-Nihonga, he has transformed one of the most rigid genres of Japanese art into one of the most dynamic, reshaping how Japan views its own past.
His influence on modern historical painting in Japan is undeniable. By rejecting "pure Nihonga" and dismissing traditional artistic hierarchies, Tenmyouya has opened the door for younger artists to experiment with hybrid styles, in which classical elements are reinterpreted through a contemporary lens. Neo-Nihonga, though inspired by Japanese tradition, is not a mechanical reproduction of the past—it is a conscious search for identity, one that does not shy away from controversial themes such as war, militarism, and Japan’s cultural schizophrenia.
Unlike classical Nihonga painters, who focused on beauty and harmony, Tenmyouya injects his works with energy, rebellion, and tension, forcing the viewer to reconsider what "traditional" Japanese art really is. This uncompromising approach has inspired new generations of artists, encouraging them to deconstruct and reinterpret their cultural heritage.
Although his art was initially a local phenomenon, Tenmyouya has achieved international recognition, exhibiting in Tokyo, New York, and Hong Kong. His works have been displayed in institutions like Japan Society in New York, proving that his radical vision resonates beyond Japan’s borders.
Tenmyouya is often compared to Takashi Murakami and Akira Yamaguchi, but his artistic path is entirely different. He does not employ the flat, simplified aesthetics of "Superflat", nor does he blend traditional painting with industrial motifs as Yamaguchi does. Instead, Tenmyouya revives the unique Basara aesthetics of Japan’s warrior past, bringing it back to life with aggressive compositions and modern painting techniques. While Murakami’s art draws from pop culture, anime, and commercial aesthetics, and Yamaguchi merges classical styles with contemporary mechanical imagery, Tenmyouya remains deeply rooted in the spirit of Japan’s "warrior culture"—but in a radical, contemporary form.
However, it is impossible to discuss his work without addressing the controversy it generates. Critics frequently accuse him of militarism and nationalism, pointing to his paintings of warriors, battle scenes, and references to Japan’s historical power. But does he glorify strength, or does he simply force a deeper reflection on history?
Some see his works as nostalgia for the samurai era, while others view them as deliberate deconstruction and critique of national myths. Tenmyouya does not avoid controversial themes—he engages directly with symbols that carry Japan’s historical burdens, but he offers no definitive answers. He is not an apologist for Japan’s militaristic past, nor does he ignore its significance—instead, he positions it within the broader discourse of art and contemporary Japanese identity.
So, is Tenmyouya Hisashi a right-wing artist, or simply a provocateur? Do his works genuinely promote Japan’s warrior spirit, or do they expose the myths built around it? Regardless of the answers, one thing is certain—his art is radical, unique, and impossible to ignore.
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未開 ソビエライ
An enthusiast of Asian culture with a deep appreciation for the diverse philosophies of the world. By education, a psychologist and philologist specializing in Korean studies. At heart, a programmer (primarily for Android) and a passionate technology enthusiast, as well as a practitioner of Zen and mono no aware. In moments of tranquility, adheres to a disciplined lifestyle, firmly believing that perseverance, continuous personal growth, and dedication to one's passions are the wisest paths in life. Author of the book "Strong Women of Japan" (>>see more)
Personal motto:
"The most powerful force in the universe is compound interest." - Albert Einstein (probably)
Mike Soray
(aka Michał Sobieraj)
未開 ソビエライ
An enthusiast of Asian culture with a deep appreciation for the diverse philosophies of the world. By education, a psychologist and philologist specializing in Korean studies. At heart, a programmer (primarily for Android) and a passionate technology enthusiast, as well as a practitioner of Zen and mono no aware. In moments of tranquility, adheres to a disciplined lifestyle, firmly believing that perseverance, continuous personal growth, and dedication to one's passions are the wisest paths in life. Author of the book "Strong Women of Japan" (>>see more)
Personal motto:
"The most powerful force in the universe is compound interest." - Albert Einstein (probably)
Mike Soray
(aka Michał Sobieraj)
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