They Hang Me in Tokyo: A Barbarian Artist’s Life-Changing Journey to Master Nihonga, the Traditional Art of Japan

by Allan West

Enter the hidden world of Nihonga art in this one-of-a-kind memoir blending West and East.Hidden deep in the heart of Tokyo, a small shop sells something hardly known to the outside world. A coveted permanent pigment infused with minerals and gemstones, this rare paint has been used for centuries by Nihonga masters and few others. Nihonga, a living tradition of Japanese painting known for its blend of naturalism and abstraction, fine, delicate lines, and ethereal beauty, is a world wrapped in mysticism, inaccessible even to most Japanese people.

For American artist Allan West, finding the permanent pigments to use for his burgeoning art career became an obsession. Against all advice, Allan moved to Japan to seek out the hidden world of Nihonga and unlock its secrets and profound beauty. His quest took him from Carnegie Mellon and the safety of his Western roots to the bustling streets of Tokyo to learn from the masters. Driven by an unwavering commitment to his passion as an artist, West was not prepared for the challenges of being a barbarian in a culture steeped in tradition and formality.

Blending culture clash, determination in the face of obstacles, and triumph over what’s never been done, They Hang Me in Tokyo is the amazing true story of Japanese customs, art secrets, and a foreigner’s relentless quest to belong. When West rejected modernism to study with one of the five reigning “mountains” of traditional Japanese painting, he took on a transformative journey of struggle and acceptance spanning continents and gaining him worldwide recognition.

They Hang Me in Tokyo is a vivid tapestry of contrasting cultures that shows the boundless creative possibilities when passion meets perseverance. Enter the mesmerizing world of Nihonga in this captivating memoir of acceptance.

Genres: Art

272 pages, Kindle Edition

Published October 10, 2024

About the author

Allan West is a renowned figure in the world of Japanese Nihonga painting, celebrated for his unique blend of traditional and contemporary art forms. His illustrious career has seen his artworks exhibited in over eight countries, including prestigious museums such as the Smithsonian’s National Museum of American Art and Japan’s Reihokan Museum. A disciple of the esteemed Kayama Matazo, West has earned accolades from notable entities like the Japanese Foreign Ministry for his contributions to preserving and innovating Japan’s traditional arts. His mastery in creating large-scale folding screen paintings and hanging scrolls has captivated audiences worldwide, making him a prominent figure in the art sanctuary of the Nihonga tradition.

West’s expertise extends beyond his artistic skills; he is a mission-driven artist dedicated to pioneering new frontiers in Japanese painting. Through his innovative fusion of Rimpa and Kano brushwork, West has emerged as both a custodian of traditional Japanese painting and an avant-garde Nihonga innovator. His work is not only a testament to technical mastery but also a reflection of his deep understanding of minerals, which he skillfully incorporates to create dynamic changes in his paintings with shifts in light. His use of gold and silver leaf showcases a dramatic, awe-inspiring effect, while his playful touch rooted in auspicious themes adds an unconventional elegance to his work. West’s unique artistic vision has made a significant impact in both traditional and modern art circles, spreading his appeal far and wide.

Allan West’s background is as diverse as his art. He holds a BFA from Carnegie Mellon University and an MFA from Tokyo University of the Arts, Japan’s most prestigious arts program. Under the tutelage of Kayama Matazo, a giant in traditional Japanese painting, West honed his skills and vision. His media presence is extensive, having been featured on all major Japanese television networks and numerous magazines—even gracing the cover of a few. Notably, his gallery is a highlighted stop in the Lonely Planet Guidebook for Japan. West’s career is marked by significant achievements, including creating backdrops for operas, concerts, and dramas at renowned venues like the Tokyo National Theater and the Beijing National Grand Theater. His work has been exhibited in over 35 museums worldwide, underlining his international acclaim.

Discover the world of Allan West and experience the fusion of tradition and modernity in Japanese Nihonga painting. Visit www.Allanwest.jp to delve into the captivating universe created by this remarkable artist.

Reviews

[Glen · Rating 3 out of 5]

I won this book in a goodreads drawing.

An artist goes to Japan to find a certain kind of paint. When he finds it, he gets thrown out of the store.

Then we get a description of his journey as an artist, and his preparations to become well known enough to use the forbidden paint.

Very interesting.

[DC Palter · Rating 5 out of 5]

What do you do if you’re a high school boy in Washington, D.C. who enjoys painting plants but finds it impossible to create fine lines with the stiff, viscous oil paints that come out of tubes? Who wants to create something permanent, but knows watercolors and dyes fade with time?

You research the history of art and realize Renaissance artists created an undercoat layer using glue made by boiling the protein out of rabbits, and made their own paints by mixing marble dust into linseed oil.

So you start making your own paints adding powered chemical pigments into the mix and end up with a smooth, matte finish. And then someone tells you artists in Japan had been doing something similar for over a century.

You have only one choice. You have to go to Japan.

This is how Allan West began his journey as a leading nihonga artist. He started by studying art at Carnegie Mellon, but at a time when most artists were focused on the abstract and shocking to achieve notoriety and fame, Allan remained wedded to concepts of beauty and permanence. He didn’t fit in. So he decided to take time off from school to teach English in Japan.

In July 1982, he packed his bags with empty sketchbooks and set off for the town of Zentsuji, in Kagawa, Shikoku.

But there he found only the same oil paints in tubes he could buy at home. And the same attitude he’d heard for years:

You’re a Westerner, right?…Why would you want to come all the way here, when you have Picasso and Van Gogh?

Most artists in Japan follow Western art, sometimes adding Japanese-influenced designs into Western techniques. But he had found the key — it was the tight-knit world of nihonga that he wanted to join. But though he was in Japan, he was no closer to becoming a nihonga artist.

Nihonga (日本画) is a Japanese style of painting that uses mineral pigments together with other organic pigments. Nihonga began in the Meiji era as a response to Western-style painting arriving in the country.

Nihonga emphasizes the beauty of traditional Japanese arts while adding Western-style perspective and shading. Pigments derived from natural materials including sumi ink, shells, coral, and semi-precious gems are mixed into a glue solution called nikawa made from deer protein.

Unfortunately, there were only 10 shops in all of Japan that specialized in nihonga pigments and all were in Tokyo and Kyoto, with 4 around Ueno Park near the Tokyo University of the Arts.

The Tsukuba Expo in 1985 gave him the opportunity to visit Tokyo. When he walked into one of the shops, he was entranced by the materials.

"No chemical color could have such hypnotic beauty. Everywhere I looked, the pigments were made from natural minerals — ground gemstones — lapis, malachite, agate, and jasper…I imagined a painting with such tantalizing color in the background would emit a low, musical hum. I would never again be satisfied with the plastic superficiality of the chemical pigments I had been using."

But when he tried to buy a small supply, he was told, “This store is only for the patronage of the great master painters,” and rudely shown the door.

His year of teaching finished, Allan went back to Carnegie Mellon. But now the sway of modernism held no attraction for him. He returned to painting flowers and trees despite the attitude at the time that beauty was merely decorative.

So after graduation from CMU, he headed back to Tokyo, hoping to join Tokyo University of the Arts, where most of the masters of nihonga studied. He wasn’t accepted into the program. They did, however, allow him to audit the classes, and the following year, accepted him as a graduate student.

During that time, he found shops that would sell him the materials he needed, and met Mami, the woman who would become his wife once he could convince her father he’d be able to provide for her.

Later come commissions, but only slowly and reluctantly. Nihonga was a dying art and the few places that displayed it wanted works by the masters, not a foreigner.

But Allan persevered through hardships and a lack of funds. Through commissions that cost more in supplies than they paid. Through earthquakes and yakuza land dealers taking over the neighborhood where his studio was located. Through art dealers who stole his works and museums who wouldn’t display his name.

But now he’s up against his biggest challenge — dwindling supplies of the materials he needs as the art form slowly disappears.

"Year by year, the number of nihonga painters is decreasing and with them go the livelihoods of many people who are indispensable to our work. The craftspeople who create the materials I need are gradually dying out…I will do all I can to keep it alive for as long as possible, until the materials I need are no longer available — then I will be able to look back and know I did all I could."

This memoir is a remarkable story of a remarkable man. Full of humor and satisfaction, despite all the challenges he had to overcome, this story is a pleasure to read.

Before picking up the book, I knew nothing about the world of nihonga other than a handful of works I’d seen at a few museums. Although this book is about the person, not about nihonga, I’ve come to appreciate the immense effort and skill that goes into making and applying the special paints and techniques unique to nihonga.

I highly recommend this book to anyone who wants to read a heart-warming story of a talented artist who overcame the challenges of life in Tokyo as a foreigner making a name for himself in this uniquely Japanese art form.

I received a review copy of the book as an editor of Japonica.

[Richard Newton · Rating 5 out of 5]

Review: They Hang Me in Tokyo (Allan West 2024)

When I began reading Tokyo-based artist Allan West’s memoir, They Hang Me in Tokyo (Bankroft Books, 2024), I confess I braced a bit. I had no doubt In Tokyo would be well-written, as I was familiar with West’s artwork, which has an intelligence, unapologetic passion and, yet, a gentle spirit. This prepared me for an engaging and technically well-executed read. However, having my own decades of Japan experiences and writing about them in my own way, I prepared myself to envy In Tokyo, perhaps to the point that I would want to walk away from it, jealous and resentful of another writer’s effort surpassing my own. My apprehension was misplaced: Instead, what I felt was kinship with the author. I rooted for the adolescent, then the teenage, Allan, who discovered a love for painting early and was obliged to navigate round various societal, academic and familial rocks and eddies, and then again as he came into his own with proven talents, but self-restricted by his obsession with a narrow – and to many, exclusive, misunderstood or unachievable -- realm of Art: Traditional Japanese Painting (Nihonga).

Allan West and I were born within a year of each other and both spent our early years in and around Washington, D.C. We each carry warm memories of exploring the National Gallery of Art in the heart of the District of Columbia. We both first visited Japan in the early 1980s. On one hand I easily pictured West’s scenes, places and situations described, both in the District and in Japan. But our respective experiences many times diverged and, for the vast majority of my read, I turned myself over to the strength of his writing to see what I have never experienced regarding his personal challenges, triumphs, disappointments and determination. Fortunately for this reader, West’s skill in conveying images and emotions with words soars and is on par with the kind that he possesses with the brush.

Many fish-out-of-water memoirs offer little more than tales upon repeated tales of goofing up, embarrassing oneself or committing a string of cultural blunders. This is a trap, both for the author and for the reader, with the latter growing tired of an author’s “Here I go again!” cultural pratfalls. In Tokyo contains its share of zanily discomforting moments (West’s first bike, the too small and awkwardly cute Minky MoMo, and the young toughs he encounters one night while pedaling home come to mind), but it offers more. This memoir’s foundation is art: West’s pursuit of getting it right, and, then, when he’s reached an initial professional plateau, finding and developing the paths to make ends meet through his craft. This is set against the backdrop of modern Japan, West’s meeting and making a life with his wife and partner Mami, and an array of never-ending challenges that include dwindling supplies of ancient pigments, yakuza landlords, impossible deadlines, an intensely protective would-be father-in-law, and even the fiery demise of a centuries-old temple. In Tokyo thus offers the reader an experiential depth and a pace I’ve rarely encountered.

While West’s obsession with traditional Japanese art forms In Tokyo’s thematic foundation, readers will find relationships are integral to this theme. The ones West forms and deepens during his journey, whether with college professors, neighbors, clients, gallery owners, museum curators, or the president of a multi-generational high-end nori (dried seaweed) producer, keep the story’s narrative fresh.[1] The evolution of West’s relationship with his parents, especially his father, a pragmatic Washington, D.C., attorney, threads its way through In Tokyo, climaxing in several emotionally compelling pages towards this memoir’s closing.

______

[1] And not just any college professors: West studied his craft and graduated from both the prestigious Carnegie Mellon University in Pittsburgh and the Art Center of Tokyo University. West also amply, but not overly, footnotes They Hang Me in Tokyo -- providing readers with historical tidbits, narrative context and, as needed, sources.

Another heart-stirring chapter describes a one-night, on-stage, collaboration between West and jazz vocalist Susan Osborn, along with West’s wife, Mami, and an audience which provided an inspirational X factor. When Osborn suddenly breaks into Jean Sibelius’ Finlandia (a favorite of mine that never fails to stir the heart) and West, as if possessed, answers with a frenzy of painting, we read the following:

Every moment was charged with tension and emotion until I suddenly found myself sobbing. There was no plan. No signal. But we both knew when [the painting] was done. Mami’s cheeks were wet. I put my brush down as the music stopped. The lights lowered, and I embraced her. . . "


Would I recommend They Hang Me in Tokyo to everyone? No. Only to those who enjoy reading about art, Japan, relationships, overcoming challenges, passion and love. Or about such things with a skosh of zaniness mixed in.

.

[Leanne · Rating 5 out of 5]

In fiction, they call it the inciting incident: the moment that sets the story in motion. For painter Allan West that moment came in a burst of inspiration when he was still a young student in Washington DC. Japan was not yet on his radar, but he had already set his sights on becoming a painter. Not impressed with synthetic oil paints and headache-inducing thinners, he decided to come up with something better. First stop was the Library of Congress, where he embarked on a study of painting techniques, leading him to some old Renaissance recipes that made use of rabbit-skin glue to create gesso and linseed oil for blending natural pigments. Not only did this enable the gem-like quality of the Old Masters, but it also boosted the longevity of the paintings. Imagination on fire, he began to experiment, before arriving at his own innovation, mixing pigments in the rabbit-skin glue.

Calling this his “world-changing invention,” he was soon stunned to learn that this was the same technique used in traditional Japanese painting. And so, West made up his mind to travel to Japan to see how it was done with his own eyes. A beautifully-written memoir in short snappy chapters, They Hang Me in Tokyo is also a time-slip back to the days before mass tourism and the Internet, when sometimes to find answers you had to visit libraries or get on an airplane. But traveling to Japan back in the 80s was just the start, for he soon discovered gaining entry into the secretive world of Nihonga painting would not be that easy.

Nihonga is a relatively new term that was coined during the Meiji period, basically just to make a contrast between traditional Japanese painting and Western art. Interrogating the definition, what we really find is a difference in materials. For a thousand years, Japanese painting has mainly been executed on silk or washi paper, using natural pigments, ground from shells, corals, and semi-precious stones like azurite, malachite, and cinnabar. These pigments are then blended with an animal glue binder, like deer glue.

Anyone with even a passing knowledge about Japan understands how important craftsmanship is. And nowhere is this more so than in the fine arts. The book remarkably begins with the young West struggling to locate one of the few shops selling these pigments in Tokyo. Before even getting to this point, he’d had to teach himself a decent level of Japanese. Hopes high, he enters the shop and sees the object of his desire, and picking up a glass bottle, a voice thunders from behind the counter. Yep, the owner has ordered him to leave at once! He does not sell to hobbyists.

This is when West fires his engines. Setting his sights on the finest MFA program in Japan, he continues studying language tirelessly. His attempt comes close and they say he can audit classes. He knows they must expect he will give up, but the reader knows he won’t. By this time, he has fallen in love with Mami, whose father will only allow the marriage if he gains entry into the prestigious program. And so West, does the work. After a year of auditing, he is encouraged to apply again and is accepted.

This is a story about artistic obsession and incredible grit. But it is also a love story. West loves Japan, and he loves his wife Mami. He also has unresolved issues with his father, regarding his choice to embark on what is—let’s face it—a tough career. As West, slowly achieves a level of mastery that few outsiders have achieved in the arts in Japan, his father recognizes both his son’s achievement and his incredible talent. How could he not?

Beyond the realm of human relations, this is another love story: a tribute to a dying way of life and art. Nihonga painting grew in part out of the Kano school, which is the longest artistic tradition in the world, having spanned three centuries. But this is only the half of it, for the craft that West has learned goes back a thousand years. And there is a web of interlocking crafts people who have their own long lineages. From the pigment sellers and washi paper makers to the gold leaf beaters, these materials are disappearing because the crafts people can no longer stay in business anymore. The younger generation is not interested and it is not financially viable. West writes about this poignantly as he steadfastly continues to promote a traditional way of life and culture, from his studio in Yanaka, Tokyo. Encompassing the way he has chosen to live in harmony with his neighbors to his preference in traditional clothing with an artist’s flair, to promotion of traditional tools and materials, his art becomes a Gesamtkunstwerk—ad the memoir is highly recommended reading!

[Reader Views · Rating 5 out of 5]

Not many shops in America will throw you out because you lack high credentials in your field.

But it happens in Japan. It happened to Allan West when he tried to purchase pigment for a color he sought to mix for his painting. The shop owner prohibited West the pigment, saying he wasn’t qualified. Saying he needed certification from the emperor. And noting he was obviously not Japanese.

This event pretty much set the tone for West’s career as a fine artist in Japan as presented in Allan Wests’ memoir, “They Hang Me in Tokyo: A Barbarian Artist’s Life-Changing Journey to Master Nihonga, the Traditional Art of Japan.” By now it’s been a long career, or perhaps rather a long struggle. An American by birth and upbringing, but an artist by calling, West somehow could never silence the siren call of the Japanese aesthetic.

In particular, he wanted to study Nihonga, a traditional Japanese painting style that uses ink, and mineral and organic pigments on silk or paper. To do so he needed to immerse himself in a very Japanese world of ancient custom, family dynasties in pigment production, national judgment of his technique, and what Americans not as polite as West would almost certainly call racism. (The word appears nowhere in his book.)

Yet the artist persisted. He faced Japanese motorcycle gangs and battled wits with the yakuza, the Japanese mafia. He became fluent in the language and married a Japanese woman, though even this translated into a challenge to his painting talent.

He opened a studio and grew close to the neighbors in his little block. He experimented with technique and dressed in the local way. He became a master painter in the Japanese style, to the point where he may now credibly lament the slow weakening of Japanese painting traditions, as pigment-producing families die out and customs fade.

“They Hang Me in Tokyo,” at 292 pages, never demurs in relating West’s defeats, which have been numerous, but it also never complains. Rather, setbacks are related with the neutral calm of a police report, as the early rejections slowly gave way to acceptance and even celebration and eminence. After 40 years in Japan, West has exhibited all over Europe, Japan, and America, including at the Smithsonian.

“I lived for art,” says the artist. And indeed, he still lives, in Tokyo with his wife and three children. His book, arranged in vignette-sized chapters around the major questions of his life, ought to interest anyone who has ever set off across the desert known as the artist’s journey, or in fact anyone who has ever faced reversals.

It’s an often lonely trip, and not everyone arrives somewhere pleasant. But often the most difficult journeys make the best stories, and Allan West’s book “They Hang Me in Tokyo” seems to prove that. He makes travail, and its subsequent triumph, a pleasure to read.

[Jonelle Patrick · Rating 5 out of 5]

Allan West wasn't always an internationally acclaimed master of nihonga—the art of painting with powdered gemstones on gold and silver leaf—but this delightfully candid memoir is filled with stories of how he carved out a place for himself in that most traditional of Japanese arts.
From getting kicked out of the pigment store he spent years trying to find, to the proprietor knocking on his door forty years later, this memoir isn't just about mastering the techniques of painting in an exceedingly non-Western way. It's about how opening oneself up to Japanese culture comes full circle, and delivers insights into the workings of one's own heart.

Allan is a master storyteller, and it's not just his triumphs he's thought deeply about, but the missteps and pitfalls that ambushed him along the way. Like all foreigners who wash up on Japanese shores and stay, it's the failures that most often lead to greater understanding, and his gentle and humorous way of talking about the lessons he learned from things that blocked his path ring true no matter who you are or where you live.

[Patricia · Rating 3 out of 5]

I bought the book because I am also learning Nihonga and a painter using Iwaenogu in North America. I found the book to be a little disappointing. I wanted to hear more about his journey with the technical side of the material/medium. How he struggled and discovered the techniques, how he learnt traditional masters’ techniques, and etc. As the first foreigner(I assume) professional Nihonga artist, there is a lot about cultural perception difference to art that could have been covered. Instead, I found large part of the book to be about his love life, which I am less interested in. Overall, it is an easy read and I would recommend to people who are interested in a glimpse to the world of Nihonga, but nothing super technical and educational.