Hiroyuki Suzuki on Atelier 17: A Written Interview
- artsan
- 21 hours ago
- 8 min read
From 1973 to 1977, Japanese artist Hiroyuki Suzuki worked at Atelier 17 in Paris, the experimental printmaking workshop founded by Stanley William Hayter.
In this written interview, Suzuki looks back on his time at Atelier 17, recalling Hayter, his close relationship with Hector Saunier, the workshop’s international atmosphere, and the experiences that continued to shape his work after Paris.
Before Joining Atelier 17
Before coming to Paris, could you briefly tell us about your artistic training and the kind of work you were making?
For three years, I studied in the art program at a high school, where I learned Japanese-style painting (nihonga), Western-style painting, and sculpture. However, I never felt entirely comfortable with such rigid, academic art education. Around that time, I visited an exhibition of Masuo Ikeda's prints. I was captivated by the freedom of his work, and it was through that experience that I discovered the world of printmaking.
How did you first learn about Atelier 17 and Stanley William Hayter?
At that time, there was no place in Nagoya where I could study printmaking, so I moved to Tokyo to learn the medium. As I visited galleries, I met an artist who had previously worked at Atelier 17. Through our conversations, I learned about Stanley William Hayter, the atmosphere of the workshop, European art, and life in Paris. Those stories sparked my interest in Atelier 17.
What led you to leave Japan and join Atelier 17 in Paris?
While living in Tokyo, I studied printmaking for a time. I also had the opportunity to work as an assistant to the sculptor Morio Shinoda and, for a short period, to assist Tomio Miki. Seeing so many artists at work made me realize that, if I stayed in Japan, I might unconsciously come to rely on the support of those around me or simply drift along with my circumstances. I wanted to find out for myself what I could accomplish on my own. As I searched for a place where I could continue making prints, I discovered Atelier 17. Above all, I wanted to distance myself from everyone else's influence and create a world that was entirely my own.
Life and Printmaking at Atelier 17
What do you remember about your first visit to Atelier 17?
I was due to begin at Atelier 17 in September, but I arrived in Paris about a month earlier. I decided to stop by the studio simply to have a look around before starting. To my surprise, although it was the summer holiday, Hayter was there. After speaking with him for only a short time, he told me, "Why don't you try working right now?" I was quite taken aback. That unexpected encounter marked the beginning of my work at Atelier 17.
Could you describe the studio itself and its atmosphere?
At the time, Atelier 17 was located on Rue Daguerre in Paris's 14th arrondissement. It consisted of three rooms. One was a large workspace where about ten people could prepare sketches and work on their plates. Another contained a single press for printing. The third was used for etching the plates and for cleaning them after printing.
The studio was filled with everyone's tools and materials, which were scattered about in a rather untidy way, giving the place a well-worn, lived-in character. Each artist worked in their own individual style, and the atmosphere was so inspiring that you naturally felt compelled to start creating yourself.
What was a typical day like at Atelier 17?
There were around twenty to thirty members at the time. The studio was divided into morning and afternoon sessions, and I attended in the afternoons. My days were entirely self-directed: I would work on sketches, prepare printing plates, make proof prints along the way, take breaks at a nearby café, and watch more experienced artists printing their work. Everyone was free to use their time as they wished.
How did Stanley William Hayter teach and interact with the artists in the studio?
I believe he was already in his seventies by then. He came to the studio once or twice a week and gave advice to each artist individually. Rather than behaving like a traditional teacher, he treated us more like younger colleagues or fellow artists. It is rare to find someone who was as exceptional both as an artist and as an educator as Hayter.
Was Hayter the type to give specific instructions, or did he encourage artists to discover their own methods through experimentation?
He never lectured to the group in a classroom-style setting. Instead, he worked with each artist individually, offering advice that suited each person's pace and way of working. He never imposed his own ideas about printmaking on anyone.
We first learned his viscosity printing technique and the use of the burin, but what we chose to do after that was left entirely to our own initiative and independence.
What kinds of artists did you meet and work alongside at Atelier 17?
Among the artists were Gérard from Vietnam, Juan from Peru, Han Mok from Korea, and Mylène from Sweden. There were also several Japanese artists, including Yasuyuki Kihara, Hiroko Yamamoto, and Kazumi Hiasa.
I became especially close to Hector, Hayter's assistant. He gave me invaluable advice about printmaking, and after I returned to Japan we remained in close contact until the year he passed away. Many years later, we were even able to hold a two-person exhibition together in Japan.
Are there any memorable encounters or conversations from your time there that you would be willing to share?
During the latter part of my stay, I spent weekends—when the studio was officially closed—helping Hayter and his assistant Hector print their works.
Among my most treasured experiences was printing Hayter's collaborative work with Samuel Beckett (1950), as well as a plate by Yves Tanguy dating from around 1938. Having the opportunity to handle the original plates and encounter these works firsthand was an extraordinary privilege.
Artists from many different countries gathered at Atelier 17. How important was this international environment to you?
The studio brought together both established artists and newcomers, each with different cultural backgrounds, nationalities, and personalities. Simply being able to work alongside such a diverse group in the same space was an invaluable experience.
I learned a great deal from the attitudes and approaches of the other artists. It also helped me realize that behind every artistic technique lies a deeper cultural and historical background. That understanding enabled me to see my own work from a broader perspective and to reconsider my own position as an artist.
During your time at Atelier 17, what techniques, materials, or methods did you experiment with?
The first thing I learned was Hayter's viscosity printing technique, using a single plate to print multiple colours. As time went on, however, I deliberately reduced the number of colours I used, eventually concentrating almost exclusively on black and silver.
Atelier 17 encouraged experimentation—not only with engraving, colour, pressure, and materials, but also with the printing process itself. How did this experimental spirit influence your understanding of printmaking?
I believe viscosity printing represented a major innovation in the history of printmaking and opened up entirely new possibilities for the medium. More importantly, it taught me the importance of not being bound by established techniques, but of always seeking something new.
At the same time, I began to feel that viscosity printing tended to produce similar kinds of plates, which in turn often resulted in works that resembled one another. After returning to Japan, I built upon what I had learned through viscosity printing, but gradually shifted toward working with multiple hard copper plates, developing my own approach to printmaking.
Did your experience at Atelier 17 lead you to think of the printing plate not simply as a tool for producing images, but as a material object in its own right?
While I was making viscosity prints at Atelier 17—using metallic colours, particularly black and silver, to create grid-like compositions with meticulously layered structures—I began to think of the plate itself as a series of layers within the metal.
Through the processes of engraving, scraping, polishing, and erasing the plate—acts that all involve removing rather than adding material—I came to realize that the surface of the plate is never uniform but is composed of countless layers. Moreover, the process of building up these layered structures while experiencing the physical resistance of the material is inseparable from the passage of time.
This way of thinking became the foundation of my later work. It developed into reliefs that emphasize the layered nature of metal plates, drawings built through the repeated accumulation of dots, monotypes that foreground the body's physical engagement with the medium, and paintings in which I replaced the metal plate with canvas, incorporating the texture of woven fabric into the image.
Although I have worked in many different media, I believe that much of my work has grown out of a single ongoing attempt: to express depth not as an illusion on a flat surface, but as something inherent within the surface itself.
Looking Back
How did your years at Atelier 17 influence your work after you left Paris?
At Atelier 17, I actually moved in the direction of avoiding chance, creating works based on careful planning and precise calculation. However, years later, when I began working with monotype, what I had learned at Atelier 17 resurfaced in a different way.
Unlike intaglio printmaking, monotype freed me from many of the medium's technical constraints, allowing spontaneity, physical engagement, and chance to play much more direct roles in the creative process. Over time, I also came to think of artistic practice as a means of drawing out something unknown within myself—or rather, something beyond myself—through the interaction between myself and the process of making.
Beyond what you learned at Atelier 17, in what ways did your work develop independently?
As I mentioned earlier, I see everything I have created as growing out of what I learned at Atelier 17, while gradually developing in my own direction.
In my thirties, I spent about a year and a half in the United States, where I assisted Shusaku Arakawa in the production of his prints. Working closely with him gave me a deep insight into his ideas about art, and I found his thinking tremendously stimulating.
In what ways do you think Atelier 17 differed from a conventional art school or printmaking workshop?
Unlike an art school, where students are often of a similar age and at a similar stage of their careers, Atelier 17 brought together artists of different generations, levels of experience, and nationalities from all over the world.
Being surrounded by such diversity naturally exposed me to a wide range of perspectives and values. It was an environment where new ideas could emerge without being constrained by conventional ways of thinking. The open and generous atmosphere that Hayter and his assistant Hector created continued to define the studio even long after its founding.
What do you think is the most important legacy that Atelier 17 has left for artists today?
Over more than five centuries of intaglio printmaking, classical techniques have been handed down from one generation to the next. In that context, Hayter's development of viscosity printing was undoubtedly a groundbreaking achievement. Yet I believe his greatest contribution was something even more significant: he came from England to Paris and created a place unlike any other.
Atelier 17 resonated with the spirit of Surrealism at the time, but its importance extended far beyond that particular moment. Long afterwards, it continued to function as a place where artists from different countries and cultural backgrounds could work together, united by the shared language and purpose of printmaking.
It is remarkable that Atelier 17 had already created, as early as the 1930s, an environment that embraced diversity and encouraged artists to challenge and inspire one another—values that remain deeply relevant today. I sincerely hope that this spirit will continue to live on at Contrepoint.
This interview was translated from the original Japanese into English by Art San Gallery and subsequently reviewed and revised by Hiroyuki Suzuki.
This interview was also prepared in connection with the Atelier 17 Project, which documents the history and legacy of Stanley William Hayter’s workshop and its artists.
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