In our conversation, Toshihiko unpacks the tension between personal authenticity and societal conformity, drawing parallels between human domestication and the cultural pressures that suppress individuality. Through his thoughtful reflections, he invites us into a world where painting becomes an act of reclaiming lost instincts—a quiet rebellion against the soft tyranny of "fitting in." His story is not just about art, but about survival, autonomy, and the fragile beauty of resisting the currents of modern life.

 The Prince Edit (TPE): Okuya Toshihiko, tell me a bit more about yourself and your pathway to becoming the artist that we see today? Especially since you've made a stylistic shift in the last 10 years.

Okuya Toshihiko (OK): I have been working as an illustrator for some time. I could not say that it was my own work, because I was drawing pictures in response to the client's request. I also had to deal with a lot of stress because I had to make corrections over and over again.

Of course, I was also simultaneously working on painting as I pleased, and when I imported a pencil drawing I had made on a whim about ten years ago into my computer and colored it, I felt strangely liberated. I felt as if I had regained the feeling of painting as a child. I get confused when I use paints, but not on the computer. I have long wanted to use color more and more because I am not good at color. The computer has been an advantage for me in this respect.

TPE: In our previous exchange, you described painting to me as an act of resisting self-domestication. Can you elaborate on what self-domestication means to you in the context of art and society?

OK: It is known that during the stage of human domestication of animals, the animal's nature becomes more docile and its body shape changes over the generations. It is thought that dogs and cats were domesticated not only through human involvement, but also through their own involvement in coexistence with humans. This is called self-domestication, and it is said that humans also domesticated themselves as they became socialized. There is a tendency for the jaws and teeth to become smaller and the personality to become more submissive. Intense emotional outbursts have been suppressed, indicating a change in the ability to lead a calm and smooth social life.

Furthermore, it is believed that beyond biological changes, culturally humans are internalizing various ideas (social contract, capitalism, individualism, etc.) and are undergoing self-domestication.


TPE: What prompted you to learn, discover and explore this concept of self-domestication?

OK: When I was working as an illustrator (and there are many types of illustrations), I had to create a work that met the client's intentions. To put it bluntly, the real author was the client, and I was merely a tool.  Of course, I was happy to willingly produce the kind of work that the client wanted, and to have it accepted. In retrospect, it seems to me that I was trapped in something, perhaps I was willingly enslaved.

This is a relatively common situation in Japan as a free labor situation, but when I looked back at how I had become accustomed to working in such a situation, I realized that this was indeed “self-domestication.“


TPE: How did you come to the realization that painting could be a form of escape from societal constraints? Was there a particular moment that gave you this idea for you?

OK: I believe that drawing is by nature a violent act. Children's drawings are violent, as if their purpose is to deface the paper. As a child, that may have been pleasant and enjoyable. I've come to realize that while I used to draw freely and as I pleased as a child, somewhere along the way I started drawing constrained and exemplary pictures. By nature, painting is not something that someone tells you to do.

Even if the world does not approve of the picture, I am absorbed in it. I even forget about my dinner when I paint.

TPE: Do you see self-domestication as something inherently negative, or do you think it has benefits as well?

OK: Self-domestication is not a negative thing, in fact, it is beyond any such judgment. It has emerged as humans have socialized and continues to develop over time. It seems certain that the rate of violence and war killings is decreasing as humanity becomes more civilized.  Yet, even today, wars and massacres continue unabated. Why is this? It is that there are two types of aggression: reactive aggression and active aggression. One type of violence is reflexive and is committed in a fit of rage; the other is rational and premeditated. It is the former that has been suppressed by self-domestication, while the planned violence of the latter has become more cunning and sophisticated, including collusion.

Also, in everyday life, cultural pressures toward domestication may be more problematic than biological self-domestication. As they say, you have to be in tune with everyone, you have to behave yourself, etc...  In Japan, there is a word “Kūki wo yomu” (to read the air), and we have to optimize ourselves in the midst of social pressure to be the same. I believe that there are a certain number of people who find it difficult to live in such a situation.

TPE: Many artists struggle with the balance between personal expression and societal expectations. How do you navigate this tension in your own work?

OK:People who paint pictures paint pictures even if they are left alone.

Even if someone does not tell them to paint, they have already done so. I think that's fine with me, but it's not enough in general. If you paint, it is natural to want to be recognized and known.

Social imperatives are utilitarian and capitalistic, and they condition us to adapt to such a society. We accept this as if it were our own will.
I myself have been asked things like, "So, do your paintings sell?" or "So, will this make you famous?" And I suppose that's how it's generally thought of – that if it doesn't turn out that way, it's meaningless. It may be inevitable to think, “I have to be useful for something,” or “I have to get some kind of benefit.” However, that is still a kind of domesticated state, I suppose.

Perhaps it is better to think of painting as a kind of instinct.


TPE: You mentioned that civilization itself is a form of self-modification. Do you think art has the power to challenge or disrupt this process? If so, how?

OK: I think that is very difficult.

For a person like me, painting is a really small thing in the eyes of the world.

All I can do is sit in a corner, without worrying about anyone (trying to avoid getting involved in the game of musical chairs that society plays), and continue the act of painting over and over again.

There is a bird called the cuckoo. The cuckoo secretly lays its eggs in the nest of the great reed warbler. When they hatch, the cuckoo chicks push the other eggs out of the nest and drop them, pretending to be the great reed warbler's chicks. The great reed warbler thinks the chick is its own and raises it by carrying food to the nest. After leaving the nest, the cuckoo flies around in the sunlight without a hint of ill humor (as a matter of course).

In a natural environment, this would be normal. However, as a human being, not a bird, I believe this is unjust and unacceptable.

Certainly, even though humans have become less violent and more gentle in character, self-domestication is probably less involved in ethical issues. After the transition from a natural to a cultural environment, aren't the wealthy people smiling carefree in front of sumptuous food in sunny, clean restaurants the veritable cuckoos of our time? Because even though the places are far apart, violence is strictly present, and an invisible and unfair game of musical chairs is being played over and over again.

TPE: Do you think creating art for oneself as an individual is an essential part of resisting the concept we’ve been discussing?

OK: Painting seems to be an outgrowth of individualism, but this idea of valuing the individual is very important and was suppressed in times when collectivism was in power.

Today, personal freedom is accompanied by the word “self-responsibility”. The world is urging us to take responsibility if we want to do what we want. In Japan, even when a journalist is kidnapped in a conflict zone, public opinion arises that "it is his own fault, so there is no need to rescue him." Journalists are not doing this for the love of it, but to fulfill their responsibility to society, and yet the public still voices such opinions.

On the other hand, those in power do not take responsibility when scandals come to light, and they use their power to cover up scandals. Now that inequality has grown to the extreme, a self-centered and narcissistic individual with enormous power may be able to use IT and other means to incite the obedient (but cruel to their adversaries) masses. This may also be because the masses are fragmented as individuals.

These problems are beyond my control.

However, feeling such absurdity as absurdity may be the beginning of resisting self-domestication (if I can call it that).

I want to paint in a small community.

I don't know what kind of painting I want to do.

I always want to paint different pictures, and I don't have the desire to plan out what I am going to paint. It's like I'm just doodling and then something comes out of it.

I just draw with this kind of feeling.

TPE: What would you want your younger self to take away from the concept of self-domestication, your art practice and how it relates to the world and society we are living in today?

OK: You/I then are not the same as I am now. (Of course.)

When I was in high school, I was a Pink Floyd fan.

You were listening to "Animals" back then. The emotions I felt then still resonate 50 years!