top of page
Takeshita_One day in the sandbox_2025.jpg

Mai Takeshita
at Alison Bradley Projects 

By Jonathan Goodman, March 23, 2026

One Day in the Sandbox, 2025
Dyed mud pigment, mineral pigment, silver leaf, color pencil, charcoal, and nikawa (animal glue) on hemp canvas
38 1/4 x 171 7/8 inches

Only twenty six years old Mai Takeshita is not only painting but is also caring for a child just out of infancy. Her work is highly original, not exactly nihonga, a painting genre from the late 19th century but it has a subtle delicacy that keeps it very much in the field of east asian painting. It is often hard for a western audience to fully understand the delicacy of this work; it does not come out of any western tradition we could easily associate with. But then, that is the painting’s charm. Much of the work is evocative and intuitive in a place very close to water color. The beauty of the work is dependent on the artist's ability to suggest rather than to state straight forwardly. This makes her art neither difficult nor obscure but it does demand a different type of attention than that we would apply to western art of the same time. 

​

The paintings themselves tend not to make a lot of logical sense, some can read them as slightly skewed statements. Alison Bradley Projects has been putting out unusual artists from Japan for a number of years now, and Takeshita's show fits well within this vein. We can see the subtle independence that is so much a part of the artist’s imagination; the main room holds four of Takeshita's larger paintings. 

​

“One Day In the Sandbox” ( 2025), must evoke the small child the artist is raising. It shows a rectilinear parallelogram with a child's red pale and shovel lying in a sand box. Clearly, this is a personal expression but it is not confessional so much as it is descriptive; this gives the work a greater strength than something too personal. The informal immediacy of the composition denies a rational structure, but that is of little matter. Instead, experience is handled lightly and well.

Shelf, One Day, 2024
Dyed mud pigment, mineral pigment, silver leaf, and nikawa (animal glue) on cotton canvas
63 3/4 x 102 5/8 inches

In “Shelf and Electric Cable” ( 2025), a thin wire dangles, making a loop in the upper left of the painting. In the middle and to the right we have a black and white vase from which three slightly wilted stems of Philodendron arise. The plants are simple and not overly expressive but they are a bit of nature in contrast to the cable that hangs next to them. As for the shelf, its shape is hard to read; it simply supports the pot. There is a patch of blue in the lower right whose function is hard to read. Next to it, beneath the shelf is a white bowl containing household objects.

​

Takeshita’s sense of improvisation is highly developed, but she is also describing contemporary life even if it is far away from New York city. Sometimes we might worry about how all of world technology and culture are merging into a questionable geographic unity. We can go so far as to query whether this is truly a Japanese painting. In the two works that we've looked at, it is hard to make that assertion. Takeshita occupies a space that is somewhere in between the influence of nihonga and the international contemporary style so many people practice. The themes are particular to her life rather than being universal. 

​

The structural center piece of “Quiet chair” (2025) is a simple folding chair with steel legs. On its back are two coats. On the left we see a dust colored overcoat, beneath it, on the right side is a black and white hoody whose fabric is printed with flowers. Behind this arrangement is a mobile with birds. While this is a modest piece, it also communicates the strength of everyday life. Indeed, Takeshita is determined to render her conventional existence in the closest of terms. This makes the work interesting, even if little drama does not enter the work. 

​

In, “Shelf, One Day” 2024, a diptych of a rather crowded bookshelf supporting an array of miscellaneous objects. Takeshita’s sense of the understated pulls us into an appreciation of materials and objects we might easily pass by. On the bottom shelf to the left, we see a blue basket of children’s stuffed toys in disarray. On the middle level there are groups of pens, pencils and brushes, their verticals stand in quiet contrast to the long horizontal of the shelf. On the top level there is a calendar, a suggestion of a potted plant and some toys. Most of the time we don't notice these collections of minor materials, but Takesita's implied point aligns with the richness of a conventional, non heroic life. The modesty facing us shows how good art, even art that is close to children's illustration, results in a variety and richness of effect.

​

In the end, it is a mistake to assert global proportions to paintings about private life. Takeshita is wonderfully quick at rendering the impression of things. Her structures are not meant to take over the painting. Instead, they fill the space with a quick, almost tentative atmosphere. We may not be fully given to such modesty, but we must remember that the artist is rendering her life. Sometimes it is important to know the background story of the artists making the work, and in this case we do know. As a result it is easy to sympathize with someone who finds so much pleasure in rendering everyday life.

Takeshita_Quiet chair_2025.jpg

Quiet Chair, 2025
Dyed mud pigment, mineral pigment, pastel, charcoal, and nikawa (animal glue) on hemp canvas
63 3/4 x 51 1/4 inches

bottom of page