"Manga," "Art," and "Advertising"

We spoke with Shiriagari Kotobuki, who transitioned from Kirin Beer's advertising department to manga artist and then to artist, holding highly acclaimed solo exhibitions last year such as "Kaiten-ten" and "Yuruwa." He is active across various genres.

Why I wore two hats

Originally, I wanted to enter the world of popular art rather than fine art. I chose the Graphic Design department at Tama Art University because I preferred things like illustrations—art that many people could see. Advertising is a similar world, isn't it? Many people see it, laugh, and enjoy it. So, I always thought I'd like to become a manga artist someday. But upon graduation, I didn't have a specific path to drawing manga, and that's when I got hired by Kirin Beer (laughs).

Shiriagari Kotobuki

Back then, advertising was really exciting. I joined the company in 1981, around the time Shigesato Itoi's "Oishii Seikatsu." (Delicious Life.) campaign came out. If you wanted to create something interesting in a short video format, that era meant you had to make ads. I was pretty busy, so I only drew manga here and there on weekends, but I wore two hats for 13 years.

I quit the company because, well, around age 36, I started seeing myself in a managerial role. I felt it would be boring to move away from the front lines in advertising. Compared to that, there was still so much I hadn't done with manga. I wanted to draw this, I wanted to draw that, but I never had the time, and maybe I held back a bit out of deference to the company. So, I took the plunge and quit.

I've always disliked pushing my individuality or anything like that. I thought that true individuality wasn't about constantly changing what you do, but about leaving something lasting behind. For example, beer brands have that authentic, mature image, or celebrities have pure-hearted or serious-minded personas – there's all this image-building, right? But for a writer, once you create that image, you get tied down by it, don't you? So I wanted to be someone who could do anything, which is why I changed my art style every time I drew.

Well, it's kind of like just going with the flow. I don't have anything I really want to do. If someone tells me to do something, I figure I can probably make something work by adapting to it.

Differences in media, differences in audience

Advertising, art, and then entertainment like manga—what's the difference in the media world? Well, the creators don't change at all. The creator doesn't change at all, but the people paying the money do. Advertising is paid for by clients, while manga, music, and other media-based things are a world where you sell something for 100 yen to 10,000 people. On the other hand, there's the art world where you sell something for 10,000 yen to one person. So, naturally, regardless of what I personally want to do, I have to consider the people who will buy the work.

Last year I was doing mostly art, and advertising increased a bit, but now manga has decreased. It's almost exclusively newspapers. That said, it's almost daily work, so it's tough (laughs). That sort of thing changes from time to time.

The approach to production and how I engage with each project differs. Even with manga, when I draw for a magazine like 'GARO' versus drawing for the 'Asahi Shimbun', it's less about the publisher and more about the different audience at the other end, so I do change things. Advertisements are different too—the purpose is different, the audience is different. It's less about changing based on media or genre, and more that each piece changes a little bit. I still feel like I'm holding onto that line—drawing what I want to draw, not drawing what I don't want to draw.

What I did with art last year was similar to what I did in my early manga days: using parody as a starting point to question what manga even is, poking fun, trying to make people wonder. Even in the "Rotation Exhibition," things like the kettle that only becomes art while spinning—art when it spins, just an ordinary object when it stops—isn't that weird? But doing it in a museum makes it look legitimate.

I really love making people go, "Huh?" or doubt things.

I did say earlier that I've done various things to suit people, but after decades of doing this, I feel like my own preferences, my own idiosyncrasies, have surprisingly come out over the last year or so.

"Shiriagari Kotobuki's Contemporary Art: Rotation Exhibition" Held in Tokyo, Aichi, and Hyogo in 2016-2017

Fiction and Reality

Honestly, I'm more inclined to distance myself from media right now. That's why I've been going to art shows and events. I like virtual reality, but it scares me. Those things aren't so much about painting a picture; they create a fictional story inside the viewer's head and let them play there. I feel like there's too much of that lately, and maybe we should look at reality a bit more.

So, for example, I want to trip someone up from behind when they're passionately saying "This is great!" or give them a little pinch on the cheek when they're getting carried away. I do want to pull them back to reality.

As for myself, I'm not exactly energetic. I'm always complaining about feeling sick and leaving work early, then suddenly heading out for drinks. On the other hand, I'm not exactly carefree either. I brood and worry about things.

During the "Revolving Exhibition," I was in the master's form. I wish I could be like that. But I can't achieve that kind of enlightened detachment, like someone who's mastered their path. I'm just a worried old man...

I hate losing, so yelling "Gyaaah!" or "Waaah!" or complaining about how tough things are feels embarrassing, right? Always seeming carefree makes you look more relaxed and cool, doesn't it? If you show too much weakness, it's a bit... That said, I can't compete with others. I guess I'm just timid. That's probably why I try to go somewhere different from everyone else to live.