The term Tokyo Tower is familiar to many (not least due to being featured prominently in the legendary Godzilla movies), but mentioning Sky Tree to anyone outside Japan will probably get you blank stares. The Tokyo Sky Tree, formerly known as New Tokyo Tower, is a broadcasting, restaurant and observation tower under construction in Sumida, Tokyo, Japan. It has been the tallest artificial structure in Japan since 2010. The tower reached its full height of 634.0 metres (2,080 ft) in March 2011.
Our friend Shintaro Sato, born and raised in East Tokyo where the tower is located, has followed and documented the construction of the tower over the last few years. Initially he was simply documenting the progress of construction, but later Sato changed his approach to creating panaromics, often from slightly elevated positions like in his Tokyo Twilight Zone work. This work has now been collected into the book Risen in the East, published this month.
Sato succeeds in showing us the many views in the city that now incorporate the structure in the landscape. East Tokyo, the heart of the old Edo, was often seen as slightly neglected and lagging in terms of development. The tower was seen as an opportunity to support this wide area. As the images show, you can now be in the east and Sky Tree will always be with you, like a beacon that sends out strength and self-confidence, no matter whether you are playing football, enjoy your cherry blossom viewing or boat races, as some of the photos show.
Naturally, the tower project was conceived to manifest a symbol of the power and ingenuity of Japan, especially in light of rapid developments in neighbouring China. One cannot help to notice the other side of the coin: in the same week that Tokyo Sky Tree reached its full height as the tallest tower structure in the world, the country that was so eager to show its potency to us was struck by a monumental natural disaster with many consequences, as if to say “the higher you are flying, the deeper you shall fall”. It seems at least to me, that the view towards the tower has become more meaningful since. It is now more about us, the viewers on the ground, and less about the people who planned and executed this amazing feat of creating this man-made structure. All in all, a conundrum that seems typically Japanese.
The other night I picked up Araki’s latest book, Tokyo Aruki. It comes in at a modest 160 pages printed at the extremely portable A5 size. Initially I was taken in by the reasonable asking price, but after a couple go-throughs it is plain to see that portability was a major factor in this book’s construction.
Each section is divided between various locations throughout Tokyo, taken over a full year between July 2007 to July 2008. Similar to Aget’s Paris, Tokyo is Araki’s town.
It is worth stepping back for a moment to reiterate that “Tokyo†as you might think is not technically a city in the way that Omaha is considered to be. That said, he kept to a handful of the 23 wards for the photographs which ended up in this book. To be more casually precise (!), the photographic sections have been separated into areas often determined by the name of the local train station.
Interspersed through the pages are brief essays on thoughts of his personal meanings for each area. Some of the sections feature the appearance of young women who have flocked (his words) to him to be photographed. I say that jokingly, but I have with my own eyes seen a young woman break down into tears simply upon seeing the man step out of a room. So “flock†it is.
Often his writing goes further into technique and thoughts on the human condition in Tokyo which in Japanese can sound sweet, but putting it into English they are a little corny. For good measure it seems that the editor felt it best to highlight some of the cornier statements in blue or pink and slap them down on top of a perfectly fine photograph. There are unexpected visual treats here, but one has to look a little harder than usual to find them.
For those who only know the more internationally marketable and nude/bondage side of Araki’s work, the fact that he is a street photographer on par with — and often surpassing — the “greats†might come as a surprise. Due to limitations in printing quality and text placement this book isn’t the greatest vehicle to find this out, but at the price it is a good beginning chance to explore this recent softer side of his work.
If you are at all ever out with a camera in Tokyo you’ll no doubt recognize the locations of a good half of the pictures, or in some cases, have already photographed there yourself.
Earlier I mentioned that portability is an essential aspect to this book’s creation. It wasn’t until looking at the last three pages when the realization that Tokyo Aruki is in part, a Tokyo walk-a-bout type travel companion. It’s “Araki does Tokyo†in a way that is different from his other previous (and often more literal) experiences.
Since it is indeed a travel guide, each section of the book has it’s very own precise map, complete with Araki’s very route highlighted for those who might want to hit up the same spots. If the recent press is of any indication, Tokyo Camera Walks seemed to have exploded in popularity over the past few years and I’m assuming that due to it’s extremely approachable content matter, this book has several print runs ahead of it.
And for those who might be interested in the cameras which he used, a few pages before the maps are devoted to an informative essay about his camera choice (two Mamiya 7II) and (naturally) pictures of Araki on the street working.
John Sypal
John Sypal, born and raised in Nebraska, USA, currently living in Matsudo city (Chiba Pref.).
John has been exhibiting his photographs widely in the US and in Japan. His photographs are frequently featured in Japanese photo magazines.
He is currently a member of Machikata Sampo Shashin Doumei (Walking Photographers Alliance).
John also enjoys meeting people and photographs their cameras for tokyo camera style.
I have missed it last year, for some reason, so wanted to make a special effort to see it this year: the Tokyo Photo Imaging Expo 2009, a consumer-oriented photo trade fair held in the Tokyo Big Sight complex on the Odaiba artificial island, a little off the centre of town.
Here are some impressions and very personal subjective highlights:
When you walk into the large halls you are greeted by the noisy and shiny big booths of the large players. Apart from the numerous booth hostesses with their uninterrupted smiles for the even more numerous unshaven, persistent male photographers, if that’s the right term for them, it almost seems like visiting a superlative branch of electronic mega-retailers Yodobashi or Bic Camera with their “maker corners”. Very, very unsurprisingly virtually everything is about showcasing the world of digital photo to the masses, some of which is useful, and quite a lot seeming totally useless or a desperate attempt to differentiate (Casio’s virtual studio where you can create digital composites in-camera is a main contender, unless combining photos of your family with a man in a spacesuit on the moon is high up on your feature list for a point and shoot camera).
Fujifilm
I always look forward to the Fuji booth because it has a variety of things on display, not just endless rows of camera bodies. There is usually a good amount of space devoted to film and film cameras, and this year was no exception. I was hoping to get a hands-on impression of the GF670 — I was not disappointed.
Greeted by a jolly bunch of three middle aged oji-san, I showed my Contax G1 and asked “fancy a swap?” to which he responded “sure, of course” and we laughed. The camera itself is very nice. My first impression was how light it is. The finder is quasi identical to that of a 35mm rangefinder camera, large and bright with a good RF patch. On the right you see the shutter speeds displayed top to bottom (similar to the Zeiss Ikon, but on the right side not left), and on top when AE is used an A is shown.
The shutter is very quiet. I had to shoot it twice as I was not sure it happened the first time round. The whole thing holds very well in the hands, with your left you can focus and control aperture on the front, the right presses the shutter and winds. The three gentlemen seemed very pleased with the interest that the camera is getting. Obviously I am not familiar with the company internals at Fujifilm, but I would not be at all surprised if the analog division consists of a lot more of these kind of film nuts, who — I fantasize here — in the shadows of the workings of an enormous industrial corporation continue to enjoy making these products, even if it is at a much smaller scale than in the past.
Epson R-D1x
For me the R-D1 has always been an unfulfilled wishful dream. When I looked at it years ago I was not too excited, and nor I was today. It still seems big, and surprisingly heavy, almost heavier than the much larger dimensioned GF670, but above all somehow greatly lacking elegance. The chunky body with the tiny lens in front, it just does not appeal to me, but of course many others will like it just fine. But unless there is ever an alternative to it or the Leica M8, the dream will continue.
Custom photo books
Why, after years and years of print on demand photo books, isn’t there any decent domestic Japanese offering that at least comes close to the likes of Blurb and MyPublisher or even iPhoto books? It is a total mystery. Most of the books are obviously targeted at the wedding or family album market. For a start, there is no book in landcape orientation, but plenty of squares and portait formats. The paper is glossy and shiny, and either very thin or very thick. The images look not of great print quality. The typesetting, I assume not customisable, looks beyond terrible. Spiral ring binding etc., you get the idea. On the plus side, some of them can be made while you wait. Forgettable.
Mamiya
Good to see Mamiya active digitally. A small, but very focussed booth. It would be a shame to see cameras like the RZ67 become history. The digital back for it, not sure who makes it, appears to breath new life into it. Don’t dump your RBs and RZs for cheap yet!
Pentax
I was impressed by a very large print of a blossoming cherry tree (what else) made from the Pentax 645 Digital. One general gripe about digital prints on the show: they are all just too damn sharp! It looks great from a distance — go closer, as you naturally do with a fine print, and it all falls apart pretty quickly. Still sharp at close distance, but not pretty.
The Japanese Photographic Pinhole Society
Not sure who they are, but they are funded well enough to afford a fairly large booth in the center of the hall.
Kodak
Away game for the yellow team. Nothing too exciting on display for me in the paper and finishing area, but some very good prints outside next to the Ektar promotion, taken on Portra, Tmax and Ultra. “Love Film, Love Camera” the booth says.
Olympus
In a Micro Four Thirds display the well known prototype with the byline “On Sale Summer 2009”. Next to it a product covered by a blue cloth… and next to that a window celebrating 50 years of Olympus Pen — coincidence?
And lastly…
There are plenty of small booths with all sorts of things on display. Take for example the “Japan Photo and Video Small Accessory Industrial Association”, or “Japan Photo-sensitized Materials Manufacturers Association” advertising themselves. I noted an interesting booth by a small company making steps or “scaffolding” for group photographs, which are very common to do here (see also our review on Tomoko Sawada’s School Days). They had a sample photo with a huge group of people on it, perhaps a graduation. I asked them how many people were on the steps. The answer was three hundred!
At most train stations in Tokyo, there are still film stores that can develop a roll of film in 45 minutes or less, so you can stop back and pick up your pictures on the way through, and enjoy looking at them on your train ride home. In the Japanese photography magazines, many articles are still devoted to film cameras each issue, although digital camera coverage is starting to pull way ahead. (There are even some dedicated magazines catering only to digital shooters.) Nonetheless most of the camera store ads in the front or back pages still list a huge selection of used film cameras and lenses for sale. These are now referred to as “classic” cameras.
Used camera shops like Sankyo Camera Co. [ map ], in the heart of the Ginza, Tokyo’s prestigious shopping district, located just off the famed 4-chome intersection, still offer shelves of Canon and Nikon rangefinder cameras and lenses for sale to film camera junkies like myself. In a store that is a throwback 20 years into the past, there aren’t any digital cameras for sale here.
At lunchtime, I have just enough time to walk up to Sankyo to see what’s new on their shelves since my last visit. Since I’m there, I can’t pass up the chance to stop by three other adjacent camera stores in this four-corner area of the Ginza that is a landmark for film camera buffs. My weekly “fix”.
There are actually two Sankyo camera stores within a half block, one specializing in Nikon and Canon rangefinders as well as other Japanese camera models, and another shop specializing in Leica cameras, although the window has a nice eye candy collection of Rollei 35mm, Rolleiflexes and Rolleicords for sale.
Across the busy street, there’s a Miyama Shokai Nikon branch store [ map ] that sells new and used cameras, mostly Nikon, but also enough used medium-format, rangefinder and other gear to take a look at. And just a few doors down is Katsumido [ map ], the ultimate store for Leica collectors who want everything in mint condition — and have the credit line to pay for it. This store also has a changing collection of highly priced and highly desirable cameras and lenses of all types in the window, with everything in near-mint condition.
“I’m also not going to be able to afford any of those line of Leica M3s or M2s on display. They know it, and I know it.â€
But the stop I enjoy the most is at the Sankyo Camera store with all the Nikon and Canon rangefinder gear, managed by Hiroatsu “Hero” Akizawa (call him Hero-san). At most Tokyo camera stores, the language barrier is difficult. There’s also the snobbery factor, as in stores like Katsumido, where the staff is aloof, and I’m too self-conscious to even ask a question, knowing that they are going to have to find somebody to talk to me in English, if there is anyone.
I’m also not going to be able to afford any of those line of Leica M3s or M2s on display, starting from 200,000 yen (about $2,200) and up. They know it, and I know it. So, I nonchalantly make my way over to the display case where cheap Nikon, Canon and Sigma auto-focus lenses are for sale, kept apart from the Leicas.
When I stop by Sankyo Camera, however, I’m greeted by Hero-san with a smile and in English. It’s the same relationship I first had with the now-closed Ohba Camera, which was located about a 10-minute walk from the Ginza near Shimbashi Station [Now a standing sushi bar — Ed.].
The rangefinder section at Sankyo Camera
The store manager at Ohba was friendly, spoke English, and since I was a good customer, always gave me a discount. If I brought back something I had bought there, he would always give me at least 80 percent in trade. That kind of service instills customer loyalty, since in most of the Tokyo used camera shops I’ve visited, I’ve been offered pennies on the dollar on my trade-in gear.
When Ohba was closing last April, one of the clerks asked me, “What are you going to do now?†They would see me stop by at lunch and sometimes after work, on my way to the station, to see what they had got in. When they closed, I went through withdrawal pains. Sankyo has stepped in to help ease the pain. The store has treated me well, offering me good trade-in prices, and usually knocking a little off the price of anything I’m interested in buying as well.
My first time there, I brought in some Nikon binoculars I wasn’t using, an old Nikon P camera and some Canon lenses to trade, Hero-san looked, and then grabbed a calculator to show me what he was offering. The price was very, very fair. Since that time, I’ve been a regular customer, wandering in off the street each week to see what’s in the display cases.
Prices are not cheap, and bargain hunters in the States still can get better buys on eBay or through their local Craigslist site, although the condition can be a craps shoot. But at Sankyo, there are good buys to be had on cameras and lenses that are impossible to find in the States, and usually in excellent condition.
One glorious day, there was an Olympus XA4 macro model, no strap, but I turned it over, and there was the extremely rare quartz date back on it. The price? 8,000 yen, or about $70. “I’ll take it,” I said. Hero-san smiled and nodded. I also traded in a Canon rangefinder cameras and some lenses one time for a Canon 7SZ with a 50mm 0.95mm lens, in fair condition, but a steal at under 90,000 yen (about $800).
“Happiness is finding a mint black Canon lens case for your 35mm F2 for a 100-yen coin.â€
Other days, there have been cameras like a rare, heavily used black Canon P (gone the next day, when I couldn’t get it out of my mind and went back for a second look), and lenses like the Avenon 21mm and 28mm models don’t stay on the shelves very long. Sometimes, in front of the store, there are boxes filled with old lens cases and camera cases, selling for 100 yen (about a buck). Although I feel like a homeless person foraging through a garbage can, I still can’t resist jumping in.
“Most Japanese like the Nikonâ€
Happiness is finding a mint black Canon lens case for your 35mm F2 for a 100-yen coin, which I embarrassingly hand over to Hero-san, my “purchase” for the day. But these days, business is slow at Sankyo, Hero-san says. On this Saturday, there’s a steady stream of customers looking, but few are buying. “Now, it is very slow, slow, slow,” Hero-san says. The reason? Of course, it’s digital cameras. Hero-san says it’s understandable, with how easy it is to use a digital camera. In the future, is there hope for stores like Sankyo to survive? A resurgence in film cameras?
“Sometimes, the person wants to do the shutter timing, aperture… maybe, I hope,” he laughs. Looking around at all the shelves of Canon and Nikon rangefinder cameras, I marvel at the selection, and ask Hero-san where they are from. Surprisingly, Hero-san has attended many camera shows in the United States, buying cameras and returning them to the country where they were made, to sell to collectors. He said the Pasadena show in particular, is a good place for them to buy rangefinder cameras and lenses in great condition.
“The weather is good, dry, the condition is better than in Japan,” Hero-san says. “In Japan the weather is very wet – sometimes the lens gets mold, the shutter time gets very long – not so good.” So, Japanese collectors are drawn to stores like Sankyo Camera, to buy the cameras that were exported to the U.S. back when the exchange rate was at 360 yen to a dollar.
Hero-san said Nikon cameras and lenses, particularly Nikon Tokyo Olympic models, are his store’s best sellers. Although the store has a display case full of Canon rangefinder cameras and lenses, the Nikons outsell the Canons. “Canon (prices) are going a little down,†he says.
Hero-san points to all the Nikon collectible books, and says this interest has helped fuel the collector market. “Most Japanese like the Nikon, I think,” he says. “Then, also, the Nikon mechanical system is better than the Canon – Canon changes their mount, very quickly – and the old ones are very hard to use.†Himself, he still likes the Nikon F camera. He was born in 1946, (“after the Second World War,” he laughs) so he always wanted the Nikon F when he was in high school, but it was too expensive. So, he started off with a Pentax camera, then later got his Nikon F. I compliment Hero-san on his store’s friendly customer service, and generous trade-in offers. “Ah, so,” Hero-san laughs. “If it is quick to sell, I buy.”
In this digital world, leave it to the nostalgic Japanese to keep a flickering candle lit for the world of film cameras.
Barry Kawa was born in Atlanta, Georgia, and grew up in Clearfield, Utah. He has worked as a reporter, bureau chief and editor at the Ogden Standard-Examiner, Times of Gainesville (Ga.), Charlotte Observer, Cleveland Plain Dealer and Dallas Morning News before moving to Japan in 2001 with his wife, Yumiko. He now works at a Japanese newspaper, and has become an avid camera enthusiast and collector.   Â
SATO Shintaro. Born in 1969 in Tokyo. Graduated from Tokyo College of Photography in 1992 and Waseda University School of Letters Arts and Sciences in 1995. Worked as a staff cameraman for Kyodo News for 7 years. Left Kyodo News in 2001. Present: Freelance photographer. Sato’s most recent work is his Tokyo Twilight Zone series, from which the above photo comes. This work was published as a monograph by Seigensha this past Summer. Two of Sato’s pieces are currently being exhibited at the Crow Collection of Asian Art in Dallas until January 4, 2009.
Signed copies of Tokyo Twilight Zone are available in the Japan Exposures bookstore.
I proclaimed earlier that digital photography is not a real revolution because it had not brought with it a new visual language. Even when writing that I was well aware of this exception: HDR (High Dynamic Range Imaging). Perhaps one will soon grow tired of the effect, but some of the images can look quite remarkable at times when the effect is used in moderation. Like in this example, this can work quite well for landscape/cityscape photos, esp. Tokyo (not my photo by the way, just blogged via flickr as an example of someone taking good images of Japan using that technique [although my friend Mr Higashimori is bound to object, with good reason as always]). At the moment more convincing than camera tossing or the various ways of trying to emulate a film look, but one can clearly feel half-life ticking away. When does an effect end being a pure effect and become a new language? I suppose when you are able to detect an artistic vision behind it. A lot of the digital work seems to be done for its own sake, just because we can. You run the software and you’re there. And so is everyone else.
One other thing: has anyone else noticed that there is no decent discourse about digital image making? All attempts to do so in public fora are destined for the dreaded digital vs. film debate. We realise once more that few intelligent comments are drowned in the myriad of average voices. This is the down side of the great equaliser and why I suspect that Web 2.0 is of limited interest to the minority that matters.
Barry Kawa was born in Atlanta, Georgia, and grew up in Clearfield, Utah. He has worked as a reporter, bureau chief and editor at the Ogden Standard-Examiner, Times of Gainesville (Ga.), Charlotte Observer, Cleveland Plain Dealer and Dallas Morning News before moving to Japan in 2001 with his wife, Yumiko. He now works at a Japanese newspaper, and has become an avid camera enthusiast and collector.    
