Street Nihonga

Mirikitani recalled studying Nihonga in Japan during the 1920s and 1930s under esteemed masters Kimura Buzan (1876–1942) and Kawai Gyokudō (1873–1957). This painting reflects that training through meticulous brushwork and imagery rooted in Nihonga aesthetics, particularly in its depiction of a hawk perched on a pine tree—a motif associated with the Kano school, whose style deeply influenced Nihonga artists. Founded in the 14th century as the official painting academy for Japan’s military elites, the Kano school flourished until the 19th century, favoring auspicious subjects such as pine, bamboo, and plum, along with animals like tigers and hawks, symbolizing power and prosperity. Mirikitani’s use of the hawk-and-pine motif, combined with his refined brush technique capturing the bird’s poised presence, demonstrates his deep engagement with this painting lineage. The recurrence of the hawk motif in later works, such as untitled (hawk and plum tree), attests to his continued pride in the Nihonga tradition.

Two photographs from the late 1940s show a young Mirikitani presenting an ink painting of a carp—an emblem often tied to Hiroshima, Mirikitani’s hometown—to Charles F. Seabrook (1881–1964), owner of Seabrook Farms in Cumberland County, New Jersey. After World War II, Seabrook Farms—then among the nation’s largest frozen- and canned-vegetable producers—worked with the War Relocation Authority to recruit Japanese Americans newly released from incarceration camps, offering jobs and housing in the company town of Seabrook Village. Within a year of recruitment beginning in January 1944, nearly 1,000 people had relocated to Seabrook. By late 1945, documented employment exceeded 1,600, with totals reaching into the thousands by the late 1940s. For many, Seabrook became both a refuge and a tightly managed industrial enclave that supplied food to the U.S. military during and after the war. Mirikitani’s gift captures this complex moment of resettlement, labor, and rebuilding community in postwar America.  

Two photographers, Satō Tetsurō (b. 1961) and Matsuzaki Mikiko (b. 1970), captured Mirikitani on the streets of New York during the 1990s and 2000s. After working at a publishing company, Satō became a freelance cameraman. In New York, he documented various unhoused individuals, including Mirikitani. In Satō’s photograph, Mirikitani is seen drawing with crayons on a rolled sheet of paper beside his drawing of a bird facing the viewer, suggesting that he is displaying the piece to the camera or passerby.  

Matsuzaki backpacked through Southeast Asia in 2000 and became fascinated by photography. She then went to New York to study the medium and photographed Mirikitani in various settings. Unlike Satō’s images, which often reflect Mirikitani’s awareness of being photographed, Matsuzaki’s photographs captured him more candidly, seemingly without him noticing the camera. In Matsuzaki’s photograph, Mirikitani is shown sipping a drink in a relaxed manner with one hand while holding food in the other, within his makeshift living space on the streets. Displayed together, Satō’s and Matsuzaki’s photographs reveal Mirikitani’s everyday life and artistic practice on the streets from multiple perspectives.  

The 2016 documentary Memories of Mirikitani (Mirikitani no kioku), directed by Masa Yoshikawa, features Satō and Matsuzaki speaking about Mirikitani. 

While living and working on the streets of SoHo, Mirikitani often sold his drawings to neighborhood residents who came to know him personally. One evening, Robert Sawyer purchased a painting of a cat that Mirikitani had created on a round wooden tabletop—an example of the artist’s inventive use of found materials. The moment was captured in a photograph by Sawyer’s wife, Charlotte. A longtime advertising professional and poet, Sawyer later reflected on the encounter in his poem “Mirikitani on Prince Street,” describing the artist’s improvised studio on the sidewalk: 

His tools neatly laid out: rolls of paper, sheaves of cardboard, 
Stacks of spiral-bound notebooks. 
A soup can filled with plastic pens, a cigar box with crayons— 
All within hand’s reach. 

Sawyer’s recollection offers a vivid glimpse into Mirikitani’s resourceful artistry and the quiet dignity of his creative practice amid the bustle of SoHo.