Born in Harare, Zimbabwe, in 1986, Moto Yoshikuni moved to Japan in 1996 and later studied oil painting at Tama Art University, graduating in 2015. His practice draws on memories of his childhood in Zimbabwe, bringing together people, landscapes, and personal recollections through painting. In 2019, he founded MOTO magazine, a platform combining interviews, paintings, and informal conversations with Africans living in Japan, while exploring questions of identity, migration, and cultural exchange.

Please tell us about the themes and concepts common to your works. Are there any artists or forms of expression that have influenced you? 

I paint portraits of people I met in Zimbabwe, where I was born and raised. Since 2019, I have been conducting interviews with African friends living in Japan and compiling them into a magazine called “MOTO Magazine.” The concept behind this work is encounter — and re-encounter — with others, near and far, through paintings and interviews, and this cannot be separated from the long histories of colonialism and postcolonialism. 

There are countless artists and forms of expression that have influenced me, but here I would like to mention Helen Lieros (1940-2021), a painter who worked in Zimbabwe. When I was 9 or 10 years old, I attended her open studio at Gallery Delta, which she and her husband founded and ran. She was the one who encouraged me to become a painter after seeing my drawings. She was also the first adult who didn’t treat me like a child. I can still remember those days as if it were yesterday, when I was completely absorbed in painting under the sunny outdoors.

You grew up in Zimbabwe to Japanese parents and moved to Japan when you were 10 years old. I imagine you witnessed different forms of “belonging” wherever you went. 

The feeling of “belonging” to a place changes over time. I was born and raised in Zimbabwe, but my parents were originally immigrants from Japan. In 1996, when we came to Japan as a family, it represented a return to the homeland for my parents, but for me it was an immigration. Because of this, Japan has always felt somewhat foreign to me. At the same time, I have continued drawing, something I began in childhood. Drawing is the only moment when I feel a tangible continuity between my childhood and the present, between Africa and the place where I now stand. 

In 2023, I held an exhibition at the home and studio of the late graphic designer Kiyoshi Awazu titled Konkyochi, which means “Base of Operations” or “Hood.” I wrote the following in the statement:
“Kiyoshi Awazu made the desolate wasteland of the postwar era his base, but this studio could also be considered another base for his expansion onto the streets. On the other hand, I wonder where that would be for us. While the places where we take root vary, the place where we can gather, paint, and pass on our work to future generations may not necessarily be home or our homeland. Something is beginning from a place that feels more like a ‘hood’ than a ‘home’.” 

I don’t know if you would call it “belonging,” but I believe that a place that serves as a shelter in moments of crisis is something you find and create for yourself. 

You currently live in Japan, but art by Black artists and art with Black themes seems to be gaining more attention overseas. The Japanese art world is very slow to change, and until COVID-19, Black history and its representations were not widely known to the general public. Do you feel any difficulty in creating and presenting your work in countries and markets where that theme is not yet well known? 

I used to paint portraits of the Zimbabweans who were close to me when I was a child. After moving to Japan and going through many twists and turns and periods of trial and error, I started painting people from Zimbabwe again for my graduation project at Tama Art University (2015). I remember that when the professor critiqued my work, the actual subject of my painting was completely ignored, and the comments focused only on technique. It felt as if depicting Black people was outside their vocabulary. This implies that Black people don’t exist in their world, and I still sense this tendency in some parts of the Japanese art world. 

At the same time, during my studies, I encountered Edward W. Said’s Orientalism in a lecture. What kind of people are depicted by what kind of people? What I had vaguely felt before was put into words, and from that point on, I became more conscious of the politics of representation. My paintings are my gaze towards the people I depict, not a representation of them. Furthermore, I graduated from the oil painting department, and studying Western art history reveals that the representation of Black people became taboo due to reflections on colonialism and racism. In recent years, for example, Dana Schutz’s painting Open Casket, exhibited at the Whitney Biennial 2017, drew intense criticism for allegedly exploiting the historical suffering of African Americans. Therefore, there was certainly a sense that depicting Black people was a transgression of taboo.

You mentioned you started drawing at a young age. How do you feel your art has evolved in recent years? Are there any themes or techniques you find more appealing now than before? 

I created MOTO Magazine, which compiles interviews with Africans living in Japan, because I wanted to step outside the framework of art. Instead of drawing portraits as I did in my childhood, I wanted to understand who these people were in their own words. 

It is like doing cultural anthropological research, but not quite at the same time. It is also different from so-called socially engaged art. Rather, I was drawn to the magazine format because it allows for the inclusion of content that is both diverse and intimate. Since I conduct the interviews as an artist, I always include a portrait of the person I interview. On the subject of oral histories, I am also a big fan of Kazuko Fujimoto’s book, Women Who Eat Salt: Oral Histories of Black Women in North America. I have great respect for Ms. Fujimoto’s work. 

Could you tell me about any exhibitions that have particularly impressed you so far? 

When I was living in Harare, the capital of Zimbabwe, there was an art gallery near my house, and I remember being impressed by an exhibition of local artists that my mother took me to see there. My mother bought a pastel painting of a Zimbabwean woman preparing dinner by a hearth. I like that painting; it has a real sense of everyday life. 

More recently, I think the exhibition at the Gifu Prefectural Museum of Art, Blows Like a Monsoon: Contemporary Afro-Asian Arts on the Great Journey and Exchange (running until June 14, 2026), where my work “Arrival” is on display, is particularly significant. I was asked to exhibit it, and it made me reflect on my position within the history of exchange between Africa and Japan—as someone who has also migrated and moved across continents. In the first half of the exhibition, the Sumo and Entertainment Screen, believed to depict Yasuke, a Black man said to have served Nobunaga, will be on display. In the second half, the Nanban Screen, which also depicts Black figures, will be exhibited (both works are held by the Sakai City Museum). Personally, I would like to learn more about Japanese people who emigrated to Africa (Japanese immigrants/Japanese diaspora). 

Visit his website: https://www.motoyoshikuni.com