Between the Real and the Surreal: A Dialogue with Kyoka Katori

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Kyoka Katori, also known by her birth name Xin Li, is a rising interdisciplinary artist who has exhibited internationally, from New York to Tokyo. With a foundation in Japanese traditional aesthetics and influences from French Baroque culture, Katori blends oil painting, digital media, and sculpture to create deeply introspective works. Her art explores themes of identity, societal expectations, and existential contemplation, often employing rich symbolism and delicate contrasts. A graduate of Shanghai International Studies University, Katori continues her artistic journey at the New York Academy of Art.

Kyoka Katori’s body of work stands out for its seamless fusion of introspection, symbolism, and surrealist expression. Her unique visual language delicately balances the tension between tradition and modernity, particularly through her exploration of identity, existence, and the unseen forces that shape us. Katori's use of intricate details, ethereal forms, and symbolic imagery creates a deeply layered narrative that often invites viewers into meditative reflection. Her art goes beyond mere aesthetic beauty; it challenges the viewer to confront the complexity of life’s paradoxes—fragility and strength, visibility and invisibility, personal identity and societal conformity.

What sets Katori apart is her ability to transcend cultural boundaries, incorporating elements from both Eastern and Western influences. Her works are imbued with a quiet yet powerful presence, where each piece functions not just as an object but as a portal into deeper emotional and philosophical questions. Through her manipulation of form, light, and texture—whether in painting, digital media, or mixed materials—Katori's art becomes a space for silent but profound dialogues on the human condition, the fleeting nature of time, and the universal quest for self-realization.

Introduce yourself in three words.

Introspective, deep, gentle.

What was the first piece of art you ever created? How has your art evolved over the years, and what significant changes have you noticed in your style or themes?

The first significant piece I created was Untitled (2017), an oil painting that depicts a grayscale and muted landscape of a pond on a cloudy day, using shades of gray, brown, and deep green. At that time, I was exploring introspective themes through natural scenery, and this painting reflected my own emotional state—quiet, yet layered with depth. Over the years, my art has evolved from these muted, nature-inspired pieces into more surreal and symbolic works that delve into the complexities of identity and existence.

How do the cultural differences between Shanghai and New York shape your approach to art? Are there specific elements from each culture that you find yourself repeatedly drawing upon?

The cultural differences between Shanghai and New York have deeply influenced my approach to art, as both cities offer contrasting perspectives on tradition, modernity, and individuality. Growing up in Shanghai, I was surrounded by a rich history and cultural heritage, especially traditional Chinese art forms like calligraphy and ink painting. These elements instilled in me an appreciation for fine details, symbolic meaning, and a deep connection to nature. On the other hand, New York has exposed me to the vibrant, fast-paced world of contemporary art, where experimentation, boldness, and self-expression are celebrated. This fusion of traditional and modern influences is reflected in my work through the combination of intricate details and daring, surrealist compositions. I often find myself drawing upon both cultural backgrounds—the balance between restraint and freedom—as I explore themes of identity, rebellion, and transformation.

“A Flower Is Not A Flower” pays homage to Ryuichi Sakamoto. How do you translate the essence of his music into visual art, and what aspects of his work resonate most with you?

A Flower Is Not A Flower was created in memory of the Japanese musician Ryuichi Sakamoto. In this painting, I aimed to reflect the quiet melancholy and meditative nature of his music. The solitary white flower coexisting with withered branches symbolizes the duality of life and death, an echo of the transient beauty and impermanence that Sakamoto often explored in his compositions. The deep blue tones and delicate brushwork were chosen to create a dreamy, introspective atmosphere. As viewers gaze upon the painting, I wanted them to feel as though they were hearing the soft, lingering notes of Sakamoto’s piano, as if the melody of A Flower Is Not A Flower were gradually taking shape before their eyes. The interaction between the real and the ideal, the material and the spiritual, is a core element of both his music and my artwork.

Can you describe your typical creative process from initial inspiration to the finished piece? How do you maintain your creative flow and overcome creative blocks?

My creative process often begins with a quiet moment of reflection or an encounter with a piece of music, literature, or an emotional experience that deeply resonates with me. From there, I sketch out rough ideas, allowing the concept to evolve naturally. I then focus on choosing the right medium—whether it’s oil painting, mixed media, or digital tools—that will best communicate the themes I’m exploring. I immerse myself in the work, often revisiting personal memories or philosophical questions that inform the piece.

To maintain my creative flow, I embrace flexibility, allowing the artwork to guide me rather than forcing a predetermined outcome. When I face creative blocks, I find stepping away from the piece and engaging in other creative activities, like journaling or listening to music, helps me reconnect with the initial inspiration. Meditation and solitude are also essential tools for me to overcome mental roadblocks and tap into the deeper emotional layers of the work.

In your works like “Deep River” and “Entwined Vines,” how do you leverage digital tools to create depth and emotion that might differ from traditional mediums?

I use digital tools to enhance the fluidity and complexity of my compositions in ways that traditional mediums sometimes cannot achieve. Digital painting allows for a greater range of manipulation in textures, layers, and lighting, which I use to build a sense of depth and atmosphere. For example, in Deep River, the smooth transitions of colors and the ethereal blending of forms would be challenging to replicate with oil or acrylics alone. The digital medium enables me to experiment with light and shadow more freely, creating an immersive and emotional landscape.

Your pieces often use rich symbolism, such as the blindfolded dolls in “Katori’s Blind Dolls.” Can you share the significance of these symbols and how they contribute to the narrative of your works?

In Katori’s Blind Dolls, the blindfolded dolls represent innocence, vulnerability, and the way society often blinds individuals to their true selves. The dolls are a recurring symbol in my work, reflecting themes of identity and societal expectations. The blindfold is a metaphor for the invisible constraints and pressures that shape how we perceive ourselves and others. By blinding the dolls, I aim to depict how societal norms and cultural conditioning prevent individuals from fully seeing their own worth or potential. This tension between individuality and conformity is a core narrative in many of my pieces, and the dolls serve as both fragile figures and silent witnesses to the struggle for self-realization.

Who are your top three artistic heroes, and how have they influenced your work?

My top three artistic heroes are Leonora Carrington, Ryuichi Sakamoto, and Yoshitaka Amano. Leonora Carrington’s surrealism has had a profound influence on me, especially her ability to create dreamlike worlds that blur the lines between reality and fantasy. Her work inspires me to explore deeper emotional and psychological landscapes in my own art. Ryuichi Sakamoto’s music, with its delicate balance between melancholy and serenity, resonates with my approach to visual storytelling. His compositions remind me that beauty can often be found in subtlety and contrast. Lastly, Yoshitaka Amano’s intricate, ethereal illustrations have greatly shaped my love for detail and elegance in my works. His ability to create otherworldly characters and environments inspires me to push the boundaries of imagination in my own creations.

Have you ever experimented with unconventional materials or methods in your art practice? If so, can you share a memorable experience and the impact it had on your work?

Yes, I have experimented with unconventional materials, particularly in my mixed media pieces. One memorable experience was when I incorporated fragments of vintage fabric and delicate lace into a painting. The texture and history embedded in these materials added a layer of nostalgia and fragility to the work, evoking themes of memory and decay. This experiment changed the way I approached composition, as I started to think more about the tactile qualities of the materials I used, as well as the stories they could convey. It was a turning point for me, leading to more multi-dimensional and layered pieces that blend traditional painting techniques with unexpected textures and materials.

Have you found that audiences in different countries respond differently to your work? Can you share an experience where the cultural context of the viewer significantly altered the interpretation of your art?

Yes, I’ve noticed that audiences from different cultural backgrounds often bring unique perspectives to my work. One notable experience was during my exhibition in Tokyo, where many viewers immediately connected with the subtle Japanese cultural references in my pieces, such as the symbolism of dolls and nature. The nuanced details that might be overlooked by Western audiences, such as the emotional weight of certain floral symbols or the restrained expressions of figures, were deeply appreciated by the local viewers in Japan. In contrast, when exhibiting in New York, the reception was more focused on the existential and surrealist aspects of my work, with audiences drawn to the emotional complexity and dreamlike qualities of my pieces. This experience has made me more aware of how cultural context can shape the way my art is interpreted, and I enjoy seeing how different audiences find meaning in various elements of my work.

Art on Screen

Editor: Christine Lee