The Japanese-born, New York–based artist Sho Shibuya wakes early. Really early. He goes for a run of exactly 3 miles, and on the way back, picks up a copy of The New York Times from his neighbourhood newsstand. He doesn't subscribe because then the broadsheet would come in a roll and that would damage the paper.
Back at home, he looks out through a small window, studies the sky, unfolds the Times - its 12 by 22 format, a size he compares to a typical New-York apartment-sized window - and he begins to paint onto the front page.
For years now, this ritual has repeated itself with a singular consistency: sunrise, run, newspaper, acrylic, color.
Paint pots in Sho Sibuya's studio - photography Nir Arieli
The resulting works — delicate gradients brushed over the day’s headlines — helped make him one of the defining aesthetic chroniclers of the Covid-19 pandemic and, in the years since, he has not let up.
He has cited the conceptual artist On Kawara as a major influence, particularly Kawara’s Date Paintings, which documented each day with single-minded precision. “I became obsessed with his practice of capturing time,” Shibuya has said.
But where Kawara compressed time into typography, Shibuya renders it atmospheric. At first glance, his paintings appear almost disarmingly simple. Bands of orange dissolve into red. Powder blues fade into bruised greys. Entire front pages vanish beneath glowing colorfields, interrupted only by fragments of text peeking through the paint, a bit like submerged memories.
Sho Shibuya with February 11, 2026 - photography Nir Arieli
The simplicity is deceptive. Shibuya's work exists in the tension between the rhythm of nature and the unrelenting, take-no-prisoners frequency of the news cycle.
"My work comes from a deeply subjective and narrow place," he says. "Each morning, I read the newspaper and feel something. I transfer that feeling into the artwork."
"I can’t ignore the fact that if I painted the same sunrise on a traditional canvas, it wouldn’t carry the same weight. The contrast between political news and the stillness of nature creates a charged, dynamic reality. The newspaper, anchored in time by its daily cycle, adds a unique layer of context and value. It is fragile, fleeting, and immediate, just like the moment I’m trying to capture."
Sho Shibuya with February 11, 2026 - photography Nir Arieli
On June 11, Artspace and Monacelli are releasing a very limited Sho Shibuya limited edition. February 11, 2026, is an edition of 25 + 6 APs. It is a silkscreen with 21 colors on Coventry Rag 320gsm paper, signed and numbered by the artist, and measuring 22 3/4 x 12 1/2 inches. It is priced $1,500.
Talking to Artspace about February 11, 2026 Shibuya explains: “On that particular date, the sky had an unusually bright and vivid color. I felt that intensity of color resonated with the concept of this edition, so it felt like the right image to use.”
Sho Shibuya working on February 11, 2026 - photography Nir Arieli
Inspired by one of the brightest winter mornings of the year in Manhattan, February 11, 2026 channels a feeling of renewal. “It is a sunrise, and a sunrise always represents hope. No matter what happens in the world, the sun rises again the next day.”
"As Japanese people who believe in the concept of “Eight Million Gods,” we understand that every object holds a spirit. This belief teaches us to cherish things deeply—to treat even the most ordinary items, like newspapers or metro cards, with reverence."
The edition is created to coincide with the publication of Rainbow Dreams: Color and Light in Contemporary Art and the print reflects the same sense of wonder and visual delight that defines the publication – a celebration of color in its most powerful forms. Proceeds from the sale of the edition will benefit the Ali Forney Center, supporting LGBTQ+ youth with housing and other essential services. We asked Shibuya about February 11, 2026 and his wider practice.
Sho Shibuya with February 11, 2026 - photography Nir Arieli
Can you tell us about the original image this edition springs from?
This image comes from my Sunrise From a Small Window painting series. Each painting begins with a real sunrise seen from my apartment window. On that particular date, the sky had an unusually bright and vivid color. I felt that intensity of color resonated with the concept of this edition, so it felt like the right image to use.
What is the specific thing about the image that makes it right for this moment?
It is a sunrise. Sunrise always represents hope. No matter what happens in the world, the sun rises again the next day.
Sho Shibuya working on February 11, 2026 - photography Nir Arieli
Rainbow Dreams as a book and concept celebrates artists who use color and light as symbols of optimism, resilience, and community. What do color and light mean to you?
I never try to control color and light. It is impossible to control them, because they come from nature. My role is simply to observe and translate what appears in the sky.
Could you describe your process for choosing the colors in your work?
Every morning when I wake up, I take a photograph of the sunrise from my apartment window. I then paint based on the colors from that sunrise photograph, using the newspaper from the same date. In that sense, the colors are chosen by nature and by that specific moment in time.
Sho Shibuya with February 11, 2026 - photography Nir Arieli
What feeling would you like people to experience from this edition and are you surprised by people’s responses to your work?
Many people are surprised that the colors come from the actual sunrise. People often think the colors reflect my emotions, but they are really taken directly from the sky. Because there are so many colors, some people don’t believe they are real. But if you look closely, they are always there.
Look out for the edition, which launches on June 11.
Sho Shibuya with February 11, 2026 - photography Nir Arieli
Sho Shibuya - February 11, 2026 - photography Garrett Carroll
Sho Shibuya - February 11, 2026 - photography Garrett Carroll
