Selected by Mae Engelgeer

In 'Eyes of Gold', we invite some of our favourite tastemakers with a golden eye to select three works from the Bisou collection. Each guest explains their choices and shares how these pieces might live together in their space.

Tell us a bit about yourself

I am a Dutch Textile designer with a love for tactility, colors and graphic composition. Currently me and my family of 4 are living in Kyoto, Japan because of my interest and fascination for this country, the people and most of all the craftsmanship. Inspired by all things around, I create objects and spaces through my creative voice that respect and reinterpret the possibilities out of tradition and Heritage. 

You’ve selected three works from Bisou, what drew you to each?

Sometimes you come across something that just feels familiar. That’s what happened with 'Masse Noire' by Kumi Sugaï. The ribbed texture in those orange-sand tones immediately reminded me of my own textile pieces, it pulled me in. I love how graphic it is, without being overly aligned or symmetrical. It’s playful, and I could somehow sense it was made by a Japanese artist. It also taps into my interest in more masculine work.

Ever since I first stepped into the world of Faan Olgers, I’ve been intrigued by it. His work has such a distinct character, it feels incredibly honest. I remember visiting his atelier and meeting the artist and craftsman himself: completely and purely devoted to his practice. You feel that presence in 'FOV 999'.

There’s a real sense of movement in Sadamasa Motonaga's 'Stretching White'. I’m drawn to the energy in the colors and the way the fades are used, that really connects with my own interests. The title also gives it a more contemporary, almost casual feel, which I like. Overall, the piece feels very open and free.

Would you display these together, or would they live in different spaces?

Totally depends on the location actually. One way I think it is beautiful to give artworks the space they need, so there is a true focus on each individual piece. Nevertheless I noticed while selecting these works that together they represents also something about me, so to have these together in a space would feel very complete and nurturing in a way. I’m drawn not just to work I immediately connect with, but also to pieces that create tension or curiosity, art I don’t fully understand yet but that still resonates

It really depends on the space. On one hand, I think it’s beautiful to give each artwork the room it needs, so there’s true focus on the individual piece. But while selecting these works, I realised that together they also reflect something about me, seeing them in one space would feel complete, even a bit nurturing. I love it when a work sparks curiosity.

Is there a piece from this selection you'd love to ask the artist a question about?

I would love to know more about Kumi Sugaï’s techniques and way of working. I can imagine how inspiring it would’ve been to witness him in his atelier, just to observe his process. Reading about how he was introduced to Western painting techniques and how he blended those with Japanese influences really resonates with where I find myself now, living in Japan. He’s a true source of inspiration, and I would applaud and thank him for the work he has left behind.

Thank you for your beautiful words. Sadly, we can’t ask Sugaï directly anymore, he passed away in 1996, but there’s a lot we do know about his journey and how he worked.

When he moved to Paris in the early 1950s, it marked a real turning point. At the time, he had already trained in traditional Japanese calligraphy and painting, but it was in Paris that he encountered Western modernism in full force. He began experimenting, blending calligraphic sensibilities with geometric abstraction, bold color, and structure. His early work was more expressionist, often textured and gestural, but over time it became increasingly graphic and precise. You can really see this balance between intuition and control, between East and West, in his later works.

Around the early 1960s, Sugaï made a radical shift: moving from oil paint to acrylics, from gestural to hard-edged. He started using clear, flat colors, often in compositions that echo road signs or mechanical symbols, influenced, in part, by his love of cars and the visual clarity of European signage. His surfaces became smooth and matte, carefully executed using tape and silkscreen techniques to control line and shape.

He was also a prolific printmaker. Over his lifetime, he created hundreds of lithographs and screen prints, working closely with master print studios in Paris. These works weren’t just reproductions, they were a fundamental part of his practice, allowing him to refine his visual language and reach a broader audience.

It’s very special that this resonates with your own experience of living in Japan now, Sugaï’s work still speaks across time and place.

A Little Background on the piece

Masse Noire is a lithograph created by Kumi Sugaï in 1964 for the Kassel Biennale (Documenta III), printed in an edition of 200. One copy is held in the collection of the Shizuoka Prefectural Museum of Art in Japan. One copy is also available at Bisou Gallery, scroll down to find it. The work measures approximately 56 × 76 cm. 

The lithograph draws directly from an earlier oil painting of the same title, made in 1963. That canvas (circa 130 × 191 cm, signed “SUGAÏ 63”) was part of Sugaï’s textured early abstract work and was exhibited in Japan before later being sold at Christie’s in Paris.

In translating Masse Noire from oil to lithograph, Sugaï refined the composition and added colour as well as some more geometric forms. This piece shows the beginnings of Sugaï moving from the raw, tactile, organic surfaces of his earlier work toward the crisp geometry of his hard-edge abstraction later on. This transition also reflects a broader shift in his practice during the early 1960s, as he increasingly embraced printmaking and visual clarity and also slowly moved away from oil towards acrylic paint. 

Sugaï’s participation in the 1964 Kassel Biennale marked a high point in his growing international recognition. He had previously shown at Documenta II (1959) and returned for Documenta III, further establishing his presence in the postwar European art scene.