Royal Road is the Way of Bronica from Japan Exposures on Vimeo.
In 2010 I met up with Tony Hilton, the author of the book Bronica: The Early History and Definitive Collector’s Guide. Tony and I went to a place in north-west Tokyo called Kami-Itabashi, trying to find remaining traces of Zenzaburo Yoshino’s camera company.
Be sure to also read the previous article Mr. Zenza’s Rolls-Royce.
Normally I don’t feel like taking photo book titles too seriously, but in this case I was not really sure whether my understanding of the word to ramble was correct. Indeed, it can be interpreted as talking a long walk for pleasure or to walk or go from one place to another place without a specific goal, clear purpose, or direction.
I also have spent many hours, if not days, taking long walks in various Japanese cities taking photographs. The photo walk is a common activity and popular in Japan. The goal was to take photos of people in the streets going on about their daily business. Taking photos this way is surely pleasurable and even more so it is to find that you have taken interesting photographs that are worth showing to others. You go into the darkroom or work on the computer and do your processing, crank up contrast and the intensity of your pictures. You think of the next place that you could go or travel to, to take more photos. But the thought that keeps lingering in my mind is the second meaning of the ramble. The lack of goal, purpose or direction. Not that these are necessary all of the time. Still, it somewhat leaves a void and the thought that perhaps the rambler is not privileged, but condemned to ramble, and the photographs may bear witness to this.
Takehiko Nakafuji has been traveling the world and documenting it for nearly 20 years. The following photographs come from his latest work, STREET RAMBLER, which sees Nakafuji in such diverse places as Cuba, New York, Paris, Russia, Shanghai, Berlin, and his native Tokyo.
STREET RAMBLER is available in the Japan Exposures Book Shop.
As the old saying goes: “those who do not know history are doomed to repeat it.” Then again, while reading Terry Bennett’s fascinating book “Photography in Japan 1853-1912â€, historic repetition seems almost inevitable as despite developments in society and technology, human nature is hardly changing at all and distinct personalities are thriving to define key moments in history.
The book, which is digestibly structured in portions of decades, starts out with a fireworks of “firstsâ€. The first photograph taken in Japan, the first photograph taken of a Japanese, the first photograph taken by a Japanese, the first photo studio by Japanese and foreigners alike and even the first Paparazzo-type shot of a ruling Japanese Emperor. These events, however , are simply the correlation with developments of Japan as a whole. Photography is a side-effect of political and geo-political developments in Asia at a greater scale. We soon realise that this book is not only fascinating for the reader interested in photography alone, but provides ample historic and cultural context on Japan as a place as well. This is much appreciated and holds some surprises, even for those of us who think of ourselves as being familiar with it. For example, I was surprised that in those days it was prohibited for any Japanese to leave the country. Violations would be punished by execution. You can perhaps imagine (and this is covered in the book) the treatment of foreigners by the armed population.
Above: Japanese Wrestlers by T. Enami
Photography is always as much a technological phenomenon as it is a sociological one, perhaps even more so and even today. It should therefore not surprise anyone that the advance of photography in Japan is primarily driven by the rise of the medium in English-speaking countries, which is to say the United States and the British Empire. In these cultures, photography always seemed to have a special position. With a few exceptions, British and American residents are also the key persons bringing photography, sometimes on the sidelines of other engineering activity, into Japan. In an age where only the privileged were able to travel themselves, but the masses knew that the wider world existed, there was an enormous appetite for pictures taken in far-flung places. While our view focuses on Japan in this case, this is probably by no means exclusive to Japan.
The developments in trade, and especially maritime trade, make the arrival of photography on the sidelines of the forced opening of the country seem completely inevitable. The treaty forced into effect by Perry’s Black Ships triggered, what seemed like a primitive isolated jungle tribe to be propelled into modern civilisation as if a fast-forward button was pressed. It is fascinating to think about how much intellectual potential laid untapped during the feudal era Japan that ended in the 1850s.
Edward Meyer Kern, American Cemetery, Gyokusen-Ji Temple, Shimoda, Japan ca 1855
As one would expect, the early photographic activities are dominated by Western technology and personalities. In the course of a relatively short time — how appropriate for photographic history — a transition is made that put the medium into Japanese hands under Japanese cultural terms. It is a perfect adoption process at which end photography is comfortably embedded and placed into the Japanese cultural fabric, of course as one would expect it to occur in other cultures too. There is no further need for the rest of the world to steer the course of developments. This seems like an obvious truth that can also applied to other disciplines, but here photography serves as a suitable case study. There is one aspect, that Bennett occasionally highlights, which is to separate technical ability from artistic ability. These are, unsurprisingly, up to this day two different things in photography, in any culture.
The book is a fascinating treasure trove of information and artifacts, which I found surprisingly engaging and entertaining for the reader. The lifestyles and work ethics of the personalities involved make it a very vivid read. True to the somewhat ephemeral nature of photography itself, there are constant reminders on the perilous Japanese environs and the vulnerability of the photographic medium. Earthquakes and, above all, fires and more fires cause an entire artistic legacy to be lost forever. Add to that the curious practice of studios buying other photographers’ works and marketing them as their own and you are set up for a never-ending mystery filled with conundrums around who did what and under what name! And more often than not, a sparkling career is ended by, what nowadays seem like trivial illnesses or conditions that were capable of ending someone’s life. I was relieved to observe that life expectations increased over time and by the end of the book, there is the odd personality getting over 90 years old, whereas around 50 years seemed to be more common in the 1850s.
Once more regarding the repetition of history: the improvement of image quality afforded by 19th century photography, you can easily find yourself looking into the eyes of people, and to some extent scenery, that belie the fact that they existed over 100 years ago. Personalities, their desires and goals, their practices and methods do not seem to have changed enough to make it appear that it happened a long time ago. Perhaps not even the now dominating digital photography and the distribution means of the internet are really changing this — we might well be in the 1850s of the digital age right now. The photographic activities we see are just the manifestation of what has always been there and what we want photography to be for us.
Japan Exposures would like to thank Tuttle Publishing for their support during this review.
Top photo:Â Kusakabe Kimbei (1841-1934) circa 1880 location Yokohama, Japan hand painted albumen print
I have to confess I had never heard that along with the well-known kamikaze suicide air pilots, the Japanese military had also employed suicide divers, human land mines, suicide boats, and manned torpedoes as they desperately tried to reverse their worsening fortunes in the last months of World War II. It is the manned torpedo program that forms the backdrop for Hiroshi Uemoto’s poignant Kaiiki, although its poignancy is a subtle one not readily apparent upon first view.
This isn’t a historical or documentarian look at Imperial Japan’s suicide mission program or the soldiers tasked with carrying out their tragic missions, but rather a book of landscapes, or more precisely seascapes. Nor is the sea Uemoto photographs — specifically the Seto Inland Sea, where the Imperial Navy maintained three training sites for their manned torpedo program — a rough, violent one that could help illustrate such an emotionally fraught act as sacrificing your life for a stipulated greater good. The sea we’re presented with is a disturbingly calm one, where the trail of a speeding fishing boat is the most violent thing that can be seen.
The photographs contained in the book are all in the square format, and masterfully composed. The square aids in enforcing a defined stillness, although within the square the distances and scope of the seascape and shoreline are not inconsequential. There is an expansiveness — and a surprising amount of variety — to Uemoto’s framing. The approach is much like the Seto Inland Sea itself, which is semi-enclosed (see a map here) and in many ways more like a large lake than a sea. (The Japanese title 海域 kaiiki translates to “sea area” or “waters”, as in the expression “territorial waters”.)
Although as mentioned there is a lot of variety in how Uemoto presents the Sea, there is also in the editing of the book a deliberate repeating of certain vistas, scenes shot perhaps at slightly different angles, or with slightly different foreground or background elements, where we can’t be certain whether they are of the same place or not. This has the effect — like that of the square — of keeping us mentally boxed in. Not in a negative or aggressive way, but to say, let’s stay here for a while, perhaps there’s more here than meets the eye, perhaps these views have stories to tell us if only we can have the patience to look, and listen.
The photos are almost all dark and moody, some almost impenetrably so, and many feature heavy cloud cover or foggy haze. Many may have been shot at night, although this isn’t obvious. In lesser hands this darkness could easily push the viewer to frustration rather than wonder. (The publisher Sokyusha deserves kudos for the masterful printing of what couldn’t have been easy material to work with.) But here this darkness also draws us inward, compelling us to look further, make sure we haven’t missed anything, playing upon our natural inclination to suspect there must be things lurking in the shadows.
It’s not in the shadows, of course, but that which lurks under the sea’s surface, that contains the mystery, and the suspicion that all may not be well here. A more tangible guide to what underlies all these seascapes is the handful of non-seascapes that Uemoto includes in the book, say of tunnels that must have served some military use or the one shot of a torpedo, most likely one displayed in connection with the Kaiten Memorial Museum that is located on Otsushima island, the main training site for the kaiten program. These work well to hint that this is not simply a book of landscapes, that there is a larger purpose at work, while for the most part remaining subtle enough so as to not derail the overall mood of the book. (My one bone to pick with the book is the slight tonal misstep of including two photos of a group of figures walking through the tunnels. They are probably high school boys on a school excursion, but their school uniforms give them a slightly military air and the connection is a bit too obvious for my tastes.)
Uemoto provides an afterword (available, along with a map of the area, in English in addition to Japanese) that gives a brief background of the kaiten program. In this day and age of agenda-inflected buzzwords, “suicide bomber” is a hard concept to come to grips with without the corresponding invective, but if we separate the men who carried out their training and eventual suicidal missions from the authorities who dictated them, it is difficult to fathom the psychological turmoil these young men must have been going through as they looked out from the island out onto the sea. As Uemoto writes, “I could not possibly convey here just how taut their state of mind must have been at the time. Yet the color of the sea and the aspect of the island remain unchanged today.”
There is such an obviousness to the latter statement, and yet reading this I was taken aback a bit. Of course, but for minor details here and there, the sea we gaze upon through Uemoto’s lens is the same one these young men looked upon. It is the constant and steadfastly innocent party to that which man has chosen to do with what it wants to.
Uemoto also uses the afterword to tell us a bit of he came to photograph on Otsushima. He writes that it was one of the first places he went to when he took up photography in the mid-1970s as he looked for something to shoot, but that he was unprepared to reconcile his relatively comfortable upbringing with that of the young men who prepared to die there some 30 years earlier. Comparing himself at that time to them, he writes:
[…]I recall feeling pathetic for having come of age during Japan’s economic growth spurt (that is, an era of materialism and greed) and I departed the island as if to flee from it. Now, approaching my sixtieth year, I am finally visiting this island again, feeling that I may now be able to direct my camera at it.
One can only wish more young photographers would flee from their chosen subjects in such a manner, for the intervening years and maturity have helped Uemoto produce a measured and reflective work of subtlety and craft that, much like the usually placid water surface Uemoto has captured, invites us deeper, but doesn’t submerge us.
Kaiiki is available in the Japan Exposures book shop.
Charlotte Dumas is a photographer based in Amsterdam. Her latest book,
Anima, features the burial horses of Arlington Cemetery.
Japan Exposures: First of all, congratulations to your personal “Japan Exposure” in IMA Magazine! Could you describe how the feature came about?
Charlotte Dumas: I think the first time one of my publications was featured in IMA was the issue previous to this one with the publication Repose. Then right after they contacted me again because of the publication ANIMA which I’ve done last year and shows 14 portraits of the burial horses of Arlington National Cemetery near Washington DC. I portrayed the horses at night in their stables as they were drifting to sleep. During the day they work pulling the caissons that carry the caskets of deceased soldiers of the US. Charlotte Cotton was asked for this issue to name some of her favorite books and included this one in her choice. I was very happy about that.
Japan Exposures: Can you please describe your photographic interest and background, including the relation to Japan (if any), and the some detail around the work that was featured?
Charlotte Dumas: I think I mentioned this above already a bit but I mainly take portraits of animals and have been doing so since 2001. My main focus is on animals that are of some significant importance to us either practically as well as symbolically. Because it’s becoming increasingly rare to use animals being used for labour (although some professions are gaining popularity) and their continuing disappearance in our daily life I try to find places and situations where they are still prevalent in a specific function such as police or army horses or search dogs (see Retrieved -on the search dogs of 9/11) or where they encounter us by their overlapping habitat, such is the case in my most recent project which will be published next month ‘The Widest Prairies’ (oodee publishing) which focuses on the wild horses of Nevada that roam the residential areas of the desert population.
Japan Exposures: Do you think your work was of particular interest to a Japanese audience, and if so, can you explain why?
Charlotte Dumas: I wouldn’t be able to say for certain but I know that one of my earlier series (Day is Done resp.) did get some attention in Japan. This series involved lying down roman army horses and I think ANIMA is definitely a series that a Japanese audience can appreciate for it’s spiritual character. The vast and rich history of animals in mythology in Japanese (and in general) culture is in many ways a great inspiration to me as a photographer researching each of my subjects. There is always a strong connection to the history of each subject both in reality as in the depiction and place they have in art history.
Japan Exposures: Here at Japan Exposures, we get numerous requests from people asking for advice to get noticed in Japan, which you have obviously accomplished. What is your advice to achieve this?
Charlotte Dumas: I’ve been making (small) books since 2005 on my own behalf sometimes in close collaboration with different publishers. I think doing this is a great way to distribute ones work internationally and allowing it to be seen by people who can then in their turn recommend it to a larger crowd making the work more known. It’s a very democratic process that I am a big fan of. It is really nice to get the recognition from people who buy and celebrate your books.
Japan Exposures: Language barrier aside, we believe that the Japanese photo world is unique and extremely broad, photography and photographers seem abundant. What is your impression?
Charlotte Dumas: I think Japan has a great and excellent eager audience that loves art and photography and follows it very closely. There is a great public interest I think and worth investigating as well as (trying) to take part in. I am planning my first trip to Japan next spring to photograph and can’t wait to experience the culture myself.
Japan Exposures: Are you interested in Japanese photography and if so, can you elaborate what you like about certain work or artists?
Charlotte Dumas: One of the books and work that springs to mind immediately is that of artist Akito Tsuda and his book Street Cats, brilliantly done and beautiful direct work. I love the very personal approach that many Japanese photographers incorporate in their work and feel affinity with that for sure.
I appreciate greatly the work by Daido Moriyama and this I say not just because of the famous photo of the street dog. I just saw a fantastic show titled ‘With a Trace: photographs of absence’ curated from the Bidwell collection at the Akron museum of Art that included a wonderful work by Moriyama on the ungraspable factors and layers of life.
Shinya Arimoto was born in 1971 in Osaka. He won the No.35 Taiyo award in 1997 and set up TOTEM POLE PHOTO GALLERY in 2008. Arimoto has been photographing and exhibiting work since 1994. Currently teaching photography at the Tokyo School of Visual Arts, he has supervised and lead the artist-run Totem Pole Photo Gallery since founding it in 2008.
John Sypal is an American photographer who has lived in Japan since 2004, and joined Totem Pole in 2010.
Please also see this and this special gallery with more images by Shinya Arimoto.
Japan Exposures: ç§é”ã¯æ–°å®¿è¿‘辺ã§ä½•å›žã‹å¶ç„¶ã«ä¼šã£ã¦ã„ã¾ã™ã。有元ã•ã‚“ã¯æ¯Žæ—¥ã‚«ãƒ¡ãƒ©ã‚’首ã‹ã‚‰ä¸‹ã’ã¦æ’®å½±ã—ã¦ã‚‹ã¨ã„ã†ã‚¤ãƒ¡ãƒ¼ã‚¸ã§ã™ã€‚ã“ã®ã‚„ã‚‹æ°—ã¯ã©ã“ã‹ã‚‰ç”Ÿã¾ã‚Œã¦ãã¾ã™ã‹ï¼Ÿ
We’ve randomly run into each other many times in Shinjuku over the years. My image of you is that you’re always out with your camera around your neck photographing. Where does this desire come from?
Shinya Arimoto: 都市ã®è·¯ä¸Šã¯é£½ãã‚‹ã“ã¨ãŒãªã„ã§ã™ã€‚åŒã˜å ´æ‰€ã‚’æ©ã„ã¦ã„ã¦ã‚‚ã€ã™ã‚Œé•ã†äººã¯æ¯Žæ—¥é•ã†ã€‚ãã®ä¸€çž¬ä¸€çž¬ã‚’見ã¦ã„ãŸã„ã¨ã„ã†æ¬²æœ›ãŒã‚ã‚Šã¾ã™ã€‚
I never get tired of the streets of the city. Even though I walk the same streets, it’s different people passing every day. I have a desire to look at each moment as it happens.
JE: ãã‚Œã¯ç´ 敵ãªè¨€è‘‰ã ã‘ã©ã€ä»–ã®äººé”ã‚‚åŒã˜ã“ã¨ã‚’考ãˆã‚‹ã§ã—ょã†ï¼ˆç¬‘）。有元ã•ã‚“ã¯è¨€è‘‰ã ã‘ã§ã¯ãªãã€å®Ÿéš›ã«è¡Œå‹•ã—ã¦ã„ã‚‹ã¨æ€ã„ã¾ã™ã€‚一ヶ月ã«ä½•æ—¥é–“「撮影ã€ã‚’ã—ã¦ã„ã¾ã™ã‹ï¼Ÿã€€å¤§ä½“何時ã‹ã‚‰ä½•æ™‚ã¾ã§ï¼Ÿã€€ä¸€æ—¥ã«ä½•æœ¬ãらã„ã®ãƒ•ã‚£ãƒ«ãƒ を撮影ã—ã¾ã™ã‹ï¼Ÿ
That’s a common sentiment about shooting on the streets but what’s different about you is that you’re really out there all the time making work. About how many days a month do you shoot? What kind of hours?
SA: ä»–ã®ä»•äº‹ãŒç„¡ã‘ã‚Œã°ã€åŸºæœ¬çš„ã«ã¯æ¯Žæ—¥æ’®å½±ã«è¡Œãã¾ã™ã€‚去年ã®å¤ãªã©ã¯å…¨ã仕事ãŒãªã‹ã£ãŸã®ã§ã€æœ¬å½“ã«æ¯Žæ—¥æ’®å½±ã—ã¦ã„ã¾ã—ãŸã€‚æ£åˆé ƒã«æ–°å®¿ã«ç€ã„ã¦ã€æ—¥ãŒæš®ã‚Œã‚‹ã¾ã§æ’®å½±ã—ã¦ã„ã¾ã™ã€‚ãªã®ã§æ’®å½±æ™‚é–“ã¯å£ç¯€ã«ã‚ˆã£ã¦å¤‰åŒ–ã—ã¾ã™ã€‚
ç§ã®å ´åˆã€è¡—ã§å‡ºä¼šã£ãŸäººã«å£°ã‚’ã‹ã‘ã¦æ’®å½±ã™ã‚‹ã“ã¨ãŒå¤šã„ã®ã§ã€ã¾ãšå¤§åˆ‡ãªã®ã¯æ’®ã‚ŠãŸã„人ã¨å‡ºä¼šã†äº‹ãŒé‡è¦ã§ã™ã€‚ã“ã‚Œã¯å¶ç„¶æ€§ã®å•é¡Œã§ã‚‚ã‚ã‚‹ã®ã§ã€ãã®ç¢ºçŽ‡ã‚’上ã’る為ã«å¤šãã®æ™‚間を〈街ã«ã„る〉ã“ã¨ã«è²»ã‚„ã—ã¦ã„ã¾ã™ã€‚
If I’m not at work, I’m going to shoot every day. When I’m not teaching, such as last summer, I was out there every single day. I arrived in Shinjuku around noon, and shot until sunset. The time I am able to photograph varies depending on the season though. In my case I often communicate with those who I photograph on the streets so it’s important that I just get out there to meet who’s out there. Depending on who I meet depends on random encounters so in order to increase my chances I need to increase the amount of time I spend out photographing in the city.
JE: 一日ã«ä½•æœ¬ãらã„ã®ãƒ•ã‚£ãƒ«ãƒ を撮影ã—ã¾ã™ã‹ï¼Ÿã€€ã¾ãŸä¸€ãƒ¶æœˆé–“ã§ã¯ã©ã®ãらã„ã®æ•°ã«ãªã‚‹ã§ã—ょã†ã‹ï¼Ÿ
How many rolls of film do you shoot a day? A month?
SA: 一日ã«10本撮る日もã‚ã‚Œã°ã€å…¨ã撮れãªã„日もã‚る。平å‡ã™ã‚‹ã¨ä¸€ãƒ¶æœˆã§50本ãらã„ã§ã—ょã†ã‹ã。
Some days it is not possible to shoot at all, other times I’ll shoot 10 rolls a day. The average is probably about 50 rolls a month.
JE: プライãƒã‚·ãƒ¼ã®å•é¡Œã¯ã€ç¾åœ¨ã®ã‚¹ãƒˆãƒªãƒ¼ãƒˆãƒ•ã‚©ãƒˆã‚°ãƒ©ãƒ•ã‚¡ãƒ¼ã«ã©ã®ã‚ˆã†ãªå½±éŸ¿ã‚’ã‚ãŸãˆã¦ã„ã¾ã™ã‹ï¼Ÿ
How do privacy concerns affect street photographers today?
SA: 社会的ã«è¦‹ã‚‹ã¨ã€ãƒ—ライãƒã‚·ãƒ¼ã®å•é¡Œã¯æ™‚ã¨å…±ã«é‡è¦ã«ãªã£ã¦ãã¦ã„ã‚‹ã¨æ„Ÿã˜ã¦ã„ã¾ã™ã€‚
ã—ã‹ã—個人対個人ã§å‘ãåˆã£ãŸæ™‚ã€ãã®å•é¡Œã¯ç¤¾ä¼šçš„ãªå•é¡Œã¨ã„ã†ã‚ˆã‚Šã¯ã‚€ã—ã‚ãŠäº’ã„ã®å•é¡Œã¸ã¨å¤‰åŒ–ã—ã¾ã™ã€‚ç§ã®å ´åˆã€ç›¸æ‰‹ã«è¨±å¯ã‚’もらã£ã¦ã‹ã‚‰æ’®å½±ã™ã‚‹ã“ã¨ãŒå¤šã„ã®ã§ã€ãƒˆãƒ©ãƒ–ルã«ã¯ãªã‚Šã«ãã„よã†ã§ã™ã€‚
From society’s standpoint privacy concerns have been growing more important over time. But when you interact with people one on one on the streets it’s less about society and more about individuals. Since I am often able to interact with my subjects and get their permission before I photograph them I personally haven’t had much trouble with privacy issues.
JE: ストリートã§å†™çœŸã‚’æ’®ã£ã¦ã‚‹äººã«ã¯ã©ã®ã‚ˆã†ãªè²¬ä»»ãŒã‚ã‚‹ã¨è€ƒãˆã¾ã™ã‹ï¼Ÿ
What responsibility does a street photographer need to keep in mind with their subjects?
SA: 撮らã›ã¦ã„ãŸã ã„ãŸã‹ã‚‰ã«ã¯ã€è‡ªåˆ†ã®æœ›ã‚€ä½œå“ã«ä»•ä¸Šã’る事。ç§è‡ªèº«ã¯ãƒã‚¬ãƒ†ã‚£ãƒ–ãªã‚¤ãƒ¡ãƒ¼ã‚¸ãŒå¥½ãã§ã¯ãªã„ã®ã§ã€ä½œå“ãŒè¦³å®¢ã«ãã®ã‚ˆã†ã«æ‰ãˆã‚‰ã‚Œãªã„よã†ã«æ³¨æ„を払ã£ã¦ã„ã¾ã™ã€‚
When I’ve been granted the right to make the photograph I want to match in respect the desire I have to make the work as well as I can. Personally I don’t like photographs that are negative, and I take care so that I don’t catch my subject in that sort of way.
JE: 仕事ã«ã¤ã„ã¦ã§ã™ãŒã€å†™çœŸå¦æ ¡ã§ã®è¬›å¸«ã®ä»•äº‹ä»¥å¤–ã«ã‚³ãƒžãƒ¼ã‚·ãƒ£ãƒ«ã®æ’®å½±ã‚‚ã—ã¦ã¾ã™ã‹ï¼Ÿ
In addition to teaching photography, do you do much commissioned photography as well?
SA: 20代ã¯ä»•äº‹ã®æ’®å½±ã‚‚ç©æ¥µçš„ã«ã—ã¦ã„ã¾ã—ãŸãŒã€ä»Šã¯ã»ã¨ã‚“ã©ã—ã¦ã„ã¾ã›ã‚“。以å‰ã‹ã‚‰ä»˜ãåˆã„ã®ã‚るクライアントã‹ã‚‰ä¾é ¼ãŒã‚ã‚Œã°è¡Œã£ã¦ã„ã‚‹æ„Ÿã˜ã§ã™ã€‚
When I was in my 20’s and 30’s, I did commercial work, but now not so much. If I do it’s by request from a former client from a previous relationship.
JE: I’d like to talk about your teaching experience. What do you feel is the most important part of photographic education?
「有元先生ã€ã«ã¤ã„å°‘ã—èžããŸã„ã§ã™ã€‚写真ã®æ•™è‚²ã«ãŠã„ã¦ä¸€ç•ªå¤§åˆ‡ãªã®ã¯ã©ã®ã‚ˆã†ãªäº‹ã§ã—ょã†ã‹ï¼Ÿ
SA: 「写真ã€ã¨ã²ã¨ã“ã¨ã§è¨€ã£ã¦ã‚‚ã€ãã®å†…容ã¯å¤šå²ã«ã‚ãŸã‚Šã¾ã™ã€‚様々ãªå†™çœŸã®ã‚り方をä¼ãˆãŸä¸Šã§ã€å„個人ãŒç›®æŒ‡ã™ã¹ãé“を指ã—示ã™å¿…è¦ãŒã‚ã‚‹ã¨æ€ã£ã¦ã„ã¾ã™ã€‚ç§ã®ã‚¼ãƒŸï¼ˆå†™çœŸä½œå®¶å°‚攻）ã§ã¯ãƒ†ãƒ¼ãƒžã‚„コンセプトã®è¨å®šã‚„ã€è‡ªä½œã‚’言葉ã«ã™ã‚‹ã“ã¨ã‚’大切ã«ã—ã¦ã„ã¾ã™ã€‚技術ã€çŸ¥è˜ã€çµŒé¨“ã€ã®ä¸‰ã¤ã®æŸ±ã®ä¸ã§ã€ŒçµŒé¨“ã€ã‚’ç©ã‚€ã“ã¨ã‚’é‡è¦è¦–ã—ã¾ã™ã€‚
Even a though “photography” is a simple word, the content of the term is wide-ranging. In addition to lecturing about the various ways photographs are made and work, it is necessary to help students find their personal way of working that they should aim for. In my classes students need to value the setting, theme and concept of their photographs and also be able to articulate about it in their own words. To gain experience one needs to understand the three pillars of technology, knowledge and understanding.
JE: ãªã‚‹ã»ã©ã€‚ビジアルアーツã®å¦ç”Ÿã¯ä»–ã®å¦æ ¡ã®å¦ç”Ÿã‚ˆã‚Šã‚‚ç©æ¥µçš„ã«ã‚¹ãƒˆãƒªãƒ¼ãƒˆã‚¹ãƒŠãƒƒãƒ—ã‚’è¡Œã£ã¦ã„ã‚‹ã®ã§ã¯ãªã„ã§ã—ょã†ã‹ï¼Ÿã€€ç¾åœ¨ã®ã‚¢ãƒ¼ãƒˆä¸–ç•Œã§ã¯ã‚¹ãƒŠãƒƒãƒ—写真ã‚ã‚‹ã„ã¯ã‚¹ãƒˆãƒªãƒ¼ãƒˆãƒ•ã‚©ãƒˆã¯ä¸»æµã§ã¯ãªã„ãŒã€ãã®äº‹ã«ã¤ã„ã¦ã©ã†æ€ã„ã¾ã™ã‹ï¼Ÿ
I see. I get the impression that Visual Arts students do more “street photography” than students at other schools. It seems though that “street photography” is not so popular in the Art World now though…
SA: æ±äº¬ã®ãƒ“ジュアルアーツã®å¦ç”Ÿã‚‚ストリートスナップã—ã¦ã„ã‚‹ã®ã¯ã”ãã‚ãšã‹ã§ã™ã€‚写真作å“ãŒç¾Žè¡“作å“ã¨èªã‚られã¦ã‚†ãæµã‚Œã®ä¸ã§ã€å†™çœŸä½œå“ã§ã‚‚コンセプトを示ã™ã“ã¨ãŒé‡è¦ã¨ãªã£ã¦ã„ã¾ã™ã€‚確ã‹ã«ç¾åœ¨ã®ã‚¢ãƒ¼ãƒˆã®ä¸–ç•Œã§ã¯ã‚¹ãƒˆãƒªãƒ¼ãƒˆãƒ•ã‚©ãƒˆã‚°ãƒ©ãƒ•ã‚£ãƒ¼ã¯å°‘ãªã„ã§ã™ãŒã€ã‚¹ãƒˆãƒªãƒ¼ãƒˆãƒ•ã‚©ãƒˆã‚°ãƒ©ãƒ•ã‚£ãƒ¼ã«ãŠã„ã¦ã‚‚コンセプトを示ã™ã“ã¨ãŒå¿…è¦ã§ã¯ãªã„ã§ã—ょã†ã‹ã€‚
The number of students at Visual Arts shooting on the streets is negligible. As photography flows more and more into the Art realm, one’s concept has become more important. In the current world of Art there are very few street photographers- so it seems that I think that conceptualism is important now even in street photography.
JE: 有元ã•ã‚“ã®å†™çœŸã®Conceptã¯ä½•ã ã¨æ€ã„ã¾ã™ã‹ï¼Ÿ
What do you feel your concept is?
SA: 「ariphotoã€ã®ã‚·ãƒªãƒ¼ã‚ºã®ã‚³ãƒ³ã‚»ãƒ—トã¯ã€Œè·¯ä¸Šã‚’彷徨ã„ãªãŒã‚‰ã€å¤‰é·ã‚’続ã‘る都市ã®ãªã‹ã«ãƒ—リミティブãªç”Ÿå‘½ã®å–¶ã¿ã‚’探ã—求ã‚る。ã€ã§ã™ã€‚ç§ã¯éƒ½å¸‚も人間ã¨ã„ã†ç”Ÿç‰©ã®ä½œã£ãŸã€ä¸€ã¤ã®ç”Ÿæ…‹ç³»ã ã¨è€ƒãˆã¦ã„ã¾ã™ã€‚生ã物ã¨ã—ã¦ã®äººé–“ã¨ã€ãã®ä½å‡¦ã¨ã—ã¦ã®éƒ½å¸‚ãŒå†™çœŸã«ç¾ã‚れるよã†ã«å·¥å¤«ã—ã¦ä½œå“ã‚’ã¤ãã£ã¦ã„ã¾ã™ã€‚ã¾ãŸå¤§ããªãƒ†ãƒ¼ãƒžã¨ã—ã¦ã¯ã€Œäººé–“ã¨ã¯ãªã«ã‹ï¼Ÿã€ã¨ã„ã†ç–‘å•ãŒå¸¸ã«ã‚ã‚Šã¾ã™ã€‚ã‹ã¤ã¦ãƒãƒ™ãƒƒãƒˆã®åºƒå¤§ãªè‡ªç„¶ã®ä¸ã§ã€ãã®è‡ªç„¶ã¨é—˜ã„ãªãŒã‚‰ã€ã¾ãŸãã“ã‹ã‚‰æ©æµã‚’å—ã‘ãªãŒã‚‰ç”Ÿãる人々を撮影ã—ã¦ãã¾ã—ãŸã€‚ãã—ã¦ä»Šã¯æ±äº¬ã§ã€ãã®éƒ½å¸‚機能ã®æ©æµã‚’å—ã‘ã¦ç”Ÿãる人々を撮影ã—ã¦ã„ã¾ã™ã€‚ãã®ä¸¡è€…ã®ãªã‹ã«ã€äººé–“ã¨ã—ã¦ã®å…±é€šé …を見ã¤ã‘ãŸã„ã¨æ€ã£ã¦ã„ã¾ã™ã€‚
The concept of my “ariphoto” series is to “Wander the streets seeking out an unrefined or rudimentary, even primitive, kind of life among the city that is always in transition.” I believe that the human organism is of the city and it’s all part of one ecosystem. I create these photographs which formulate that the environment and habitat of man is the city. Of course there’s always the big question “What is Man?”. I have photographed people both struggling against but also benefiting from the vast nature of Tibet. Now I photograph people struggling against but again also benefiting from their environment here in Tokyo. I think that among the two, I’m interested in finding common denominators as human beings.
JE: 最近インターãƒãƒƒãƒˆã®ä¸–ç•Œã§ã¯ã‚¹ãƒˆãƒªãƒ¼ãƒˆãƒ•ã‚©ãƒˆãŒå†ã³æ³¨ç›®ã•ã‚Œã¦ã„ã‚‹ãã†ã§ã™ã€‚ストリートフォトã¯ã“ã‚Œã‹ã‚‰ã©ã“ã«å‘ã‹ã†ã¹ãã§ã—ょã†ã‹ï¼Ÿã€‚æ–°ã—ã„ã“ã¨ã‚’産ã¿å‡ºã—ã¦ã‚†ãã¹ãã§ã™ã‹ï¼Ÿã€‚ãã‚Œã¨ã‚‚「新ã—ã„ã“ã¨ã€ã¯å¿…è¦ãªã„ã¨æ€ã„ã¾ã™ã‹ï¼Ÿ
There’s been a resurgence interest, at least online, in “Street Photography”. Is there any place that “Street Photography” can or even needs to go in the future? Is there anything new that this kind of photography can do, or is “new” even important anymore?
SA: æ–°ã—ã„試ã¿ã¯ã‚‚ã¡ã‚ã‚“å¿…è¦ã ã¨æ€ã„ã¾ã™ãŒã€æ–°ã—ã‘ã‚Œã°ãã‚Œã§ã‚ˆã„ã¨ã„ã†è¨³ã§ã‚‚ãªã„。éŽåŽ»ã®ä½œå“をリスペクトã—ãªãŒã‚‰ã‚‚エピゴーãƒãƒ³ã«ãªã‚‰ãªã„よã†ã«ã€å¸¸ã«æŒ‘戦的ã§ã‚ã‚‹ã“ã¨ãŒå¤§åˆ‡ã§ã™ã€‚インターãƒãƒƒãƒˆã®ä¸–ç•Œã§ã¯å¤šãã®äººãŒæŒ‘戦的ãªä½œå“を発表ã—ã¦ã„ã‚‹ã“ã¨ã«æœŸå¾…ãŒæŒã¦ã¾ã™ã€‚ã¾ã ãã‚Œã¯èŒèŠ½ã®ã‚ˆã†ãªã‚‚ã®ã‹ã‚‚知れã¾ã›ã‚“ãŒã€ãã®ä¸ã‹ã‚‰çªå‡ºã—ãŸä½œå“ãŒå‡ºã¦ãã‚‹ã“ã¨ã«ã‚ˆã‚Šã€ä»Šå¾Œå¤§ããªæ½®æµã«ãªã£ã¦ã‚†ãã“ã¨ã¨ä¿¡ã˜ã¦ã„ã¾ã™ã€‚
I think there’s importance in attempting new things, but just because something is new doesn’t mean it’s good. Photographing while respecting the work which has been done before without becoming an inferior imitator is a very important challenge. Regarding the internet, I have an expectation that challenging photography will continue to be shared online. It might still only be something like a sprout, but I believe that from all these pictures a greater trend will follow.
JE: 「挑戦的ãªä½œå“ã€ã¨ã„ã†è¨€è‘‰ã¯äººã«ã‚ˆã£ã¦æ‰ãˆæ–¹ãŒé•ã†ã¨æ€ã„ã¾ã™ã€‚有元ã•ã‚“ã«ã¨ã£ã¦ã€ŒæŒ‘戦的ãªä½œå“ã€ã¨ã¯ã©ã®ã‚ˆã†ãªã‚‚ã®ã§ã—ょã†ã‹ï¼Ÿ
How would you classify “Challenging Photography”? It seems that this could vary widely from person to person…
SA: アイディアã€è¡Œå‹•åŠ›ã€ãƒ†ã‚¯ãƒŽãƒã‚¸ãƒ¼ã®å…¨ã¦ã«ãŠã„ã¦ã§ã™ã€‚特ã«ã‚¤ãƒ³ã‚¿ãƒ¼ãƒãƒƒãƒˆã®ä¸–ç•Œã§ã¯ãƒ†ã‚¯ãƒŽãƒã‚¸ãƒ¼ã®é€²æ©ãŒç›®è¦šã¾ã—ã„。
例ãˆã°å¾“æ¥ã®ã€Œæ±ºå®šçš„瞬間ã€ã®ã‚ˆã†ãªå†™çœŸã¯ã€é«˜è§£åƒåº¦ãƒ ービーをã‚ャプãƒãƒ£ãƒ¼ã™ã‚‹æ–¹æ³•ã«å¤‰ã‚ã£ã¦ã„ãã§ã—ょã†ã€‚
It concerns the idea, movement, technology, all of these things. Especially with the internet, there’s been remarkable progress with technology. For example, with “Decisive Moment” photos, they’ll probably be come to be captured through high resolution video.
JE: ã§ã™ãŒã€æœ‰å…ƒã•ã‚“ã®æ’®å½±æ–¹æ³•ã¯ã‹ãªã‚Šä¼çµ±çš„ã§ã—ょã†ï¼Žï¼Žï¼Žã€‚　暗室ã§ãƒ—リントã—ã¦ã€ãƒžãƒƒãƒˆã«å…¥ã‚Œã¦ã€ãƒ•ãƒ¬ãƒ¼ãƒ をギャラリーã®å£ã«è²¼ã£ã¦å±•ç¤ºã—ã¦ã„る。
But you stick with some pretty traditional gear for your own photographs… Not to mention you print in the darkroom, mat your prints, and hang them on the walls of a gallery.
SA: 暗室ï¼ä¼çµ±çš„ã€ãƒ‡ã‚¸ã‚¿ãƒ«ï¼æŒ‘戦的　ã¨ã¯é•ã†ã¨æ€ã„ã¾ã™ã€‚æ–°ã—ã„ã¨ã‹å¤ã„ã¨ã‹ã„ã†æ¦‚念ã¯ã€ã‚る程度時間ãŒçµŒã¦ã°æ„味をãªã•ãªããªã‚Šã¾ã™ã€‚
ç§ã¯ã“ã®7å¹´é–“ã«23回新作ã®å±•ç¤ºã‚’è¡Œã„ã¾ã—ãŸã€‚ã‚‚ã¡ã‚ã‚“ã“ã‚Œã¯ä»Šå¾Œã‚‚続ã‘ã¦ã‚†ãã¾ã™ã€‚手法ã¯ã“ãã¯æ–°ã—ã„ã‚‚ã®ã§ã¯ãªã„ãŒã€è‡ªåˆ†ã«ã¨ã£ã¦ãã‚Œã¯æŒ‘戦的ãªè©¦ã¿ã§ã‚ã‚Šã¾ã™ã€‚
I don’t agree with the idea that the darkroom equals “tradition” or that digital equals “challenge”. As time passes the concept of “old” or “new” has less meaning. Over the past seven years I’ve held twenty-three solo exhibitions of my work. Of course I plan on continuing with this. I’m not after a new approach, the main challenge is with myself.
JE: 写真生活や日々ã®æ’®å½±ã‚’継続ã•ã›ã‚‹ç‚ºã«é‡è¦ãªäº‹ã¯ãªã‚“ã§ã—ょã†ã‹ï¼Ÿ
What encourages you in your work to keep you going?
SA: è¡—ã«å‡ºã¦æ’®å½±ã‚’ã—ã€ã‚®ãƒ£ãƒ©ãƒªãƒ¼ã§å®šæœŸçš„ãªç™ºè¡¨ã‚’ã™ã‚‹ã“ã¨ã¯ã€ç§ã«ã¨ã£ã¦ã®æ—¥å¸¸ã«ãªã‚Šã¤ã¤ã‚ã‚Šã¾ã™ã®ã§ç‰¹åˆ¥ãªæ€ã„ã¯ã‚ã‚Šã¾ã›ã‚“。
ã—ã°ã‚‰ãã¯ã“ã®ã‚ˆã†ãªã‚¹ã‚¿ã‚¤ãƒ«ã«ã“ã ã‚ã£ã¦ã‚†ããŸã„ã¨æ€ã£ã¦ã„ã¾ã™ã€‚
The cycle of shooting out on the streets, then exhibiting the work in the gallery is what keeps me interested. By now these actions are so engrained I don’t differentiate photography as something separate from my daily life. This is the lifestyle which I’m going to continue living.
To me, the recent use of the term street photographer is similar to calling oneself artist or art photographer with an intention to add artificial value. I don’t think any respectable practitioner worth their salt would proclaim themselves with this title in this day and age. Nonetheless it appears that it is often banded around, especially on the social interwebs, with an intention to gain credibility or cool the same way teenagers would display branded clothes or gear to gain attention from peers or lowly outsiders.
Photographing strangers in public is neither new, nor does it deserve our increased attention or respect, especially when it is obvious that the photographer has no real interest in the subject except as a means to get the next best 15 seconds of fame and bizarrely unreal looking decisive moment. What Shinya Arimoto is presenting here could not be more different. The photos show that an interaction between photographer and subject must have taken place before and during which the photographs were made. Arimoto does not steal the moment while passing a subject and never shall the two meet again; instead he engages on a fair exchange, respectful and sustainable so that an ensuing photographic encounter would not appear unreasonable to either side.
Please also see this interview with the photographer by photographer John Sypal.
