Review by John Sypal for Japan Exposures
The thing about Daido Moriyama books is that as nice as they are, by now they certainly won’t surprise anyone. You know what you’re going to get the moment you see the cover. Ginza? Buenos Aries? Hawaii? You know exactly how the pictures are going to look. As a native Nebraskan I can tell you that if Moriyama were to spend a week shooting in the Cornhusker State the inevitable collection is going to look just like Moriyama does Nebraska. And it probably wouldn’t look all that different than his pictures of anywhere else he has photographed. Until the other day the only book by Moriyama that I had in my collection was the cheaper of his two Hokkaido books.
To me Moriyama had always been one of those photographers whose work was never all that interesting and it wasn’t until his Hokkaido show at Rathole gallery in early 2009 when it clicked. I found his exhibited work extremely moving, the gravity of which was revealed in a gallery setting with prints metaphorically layering upon one another to create a dizzying experience. I went five times to that show. In print (as opposed to prints) the books felt flat. Literally his pictures are layered on one another in book form but nearly all of his books were too constricting, too much about the book than the images to be of much personal interest.
So the other day at Sokyusha, the preeminent photo book publisher in Tokyo, I surprised myself by purchasing a copy of Moriyama’s recent book Nagisa. As I flipped through it, from behind the counter Ota-san, the shop owner, mentioned that this collection is simply of Moriyama’s current love interest, a kabukicho & kayokoku singer named Yoko Nagisa. While my photography book collection might be lean on Daido Moriyama, books featuring lovers or wives of Japanese photographers are well represented. Looking at it in the context of such a book it was doubly interesting.
Yoko. What else could her name be but Yoko?
On one hand Nagisa follows that grand tradition of Japanese photo books centering on a singer or musical act. On the other hand it follows the other even grander tradition of Japanese photo books in that it are collections of photos of a lover. Since both of those hands belong to Moriyama it is very much the book you might imagine when hearing “Daido Moriyama’s Kabukicho lounge singer girlfriend love story”. If you know much about any of the words in the previous sentence you probably have a good idea as to how this book looks.
The book is handsome. It’s thick, visually dense, and features exquisite printing. Laid out flat it pulls the viewer in. Plus she is gorgeous. But for as hefty as the book is and for as distantly beautiful as Ms. Nagisa is there isn’t much development of her or her relationship with the photographer throughout all 200+ pages. She makes a good picture, hell, Moriyama makes a great picture and that’s what this comes down to. It’s two people good at what they do – one skilled with a camera, the other one looking great with eyeshadow in vintage outfits, moody bars, back streets of Shinuku, singing at Moriyama exhibitions, on desolate beaches, in the last train car, or among cherry trees in bloom. Sometimes it is several of these things at once.
But for every moody monochromatic sunset or languid look off into the distance one might feel that what’s not captured is true personal development. We don’t know any more about Yoko Nagisa by the last few pages than we could gather from the first ones. Moriyama’s Yoko is certainly not Araki’s Yoko. That said, maybe we don’t need to expect intense character development or a Deep Story when looking at collections like this. A beautiful book can be just that. In this way this collaboration between these two performers has resulted in something well worth a look.
You can see more images from the book, as well as an interview with Moriyama and Nagisa, in this video (Japanese only).
Nagisa is available in the Japan Exposures bookstore.
Interesting review John. It’s nice to hear such an honest take on Moriyama’s work (and that I’m not the only one with a Moriyama-shaped hole in my book collection). I’d be curious to know if you can put your finger on what clicked for you at the Rat Hole show. I saw it too and while the layering that you mentioned was effective, I still couldn’t get beyond the feeling that these could be photographs of anywhere.
Alas, I did not have the opportunity to see the prints, but I own a copy of “Northern” and I keep coming back to it because of its, say, raw emotional qualities.
I am the opposite, for me Moriyama clicked years ago while I struggle to see the fascination with Araki. He has some good work but the overall body lacks something for me.
Marc I think what drove my response to the Rat Hole show of the Northern pictures was first of all their scale and presentation, and then (guiltily) the far flung Showa-ness of them. It might sound shallow to offer print scale as a trigger of interest but in this case printed as large as they were (perhaps 1 meter by 1.5 meters?) you could just fall into them as a viewer.
But then again maybe that Retro quality was what did it. This could also explain why I enjoy his two collections of Asahi camera magazine work from the 60s and 70s far more than anything he has put out in the past 20 years.
Personally I have difficulty finding any emotive content in his images. Moriyama’s work is often more interesting on a formal rather than emotional level. This was what makes the Nagisa book work for me- it isn’t terribly deep but it sure looks good.
On this book, interesting observations. I agree that in one way, it didn’t feel like anything ‘new’ was coming out of the Moriyama camp, more like a side project really, but in another way, it felt like this was something slightly more intimate, quite contrary to the ippiki okami eye that I always see. I felt it was softer, slower, more gentle, and perhaps even thoughtful, that’s not to say I liked it more, or that I was even surprised. Maybe it was because as you say, no matter what he does, it always has that distinctly Moriyama look, (which I have always loved practically as much as the compositions themselves). Or maybe it was her, and probably more likely so. But speaking a bit of the cuff, he seems to be getting a bit more …’something’… the older he gets, like it matters less now, than it ever did, whatever anybody might want say about it, and in that, and in my opinion, better. Its like you can be really really good when you are 20 something before you care what people think, and then you can be really really good when you are 70 something when you don’t care anymore, but everything in between is still you, but a self-conscious you, with a bad haircut. I saw HCB talk about something like this once, after he stopped taking photos. I also sensed a blase air about Elliot Erwitt when he came to show his dog photos a couple years ago. Like, “I know… they’re dogs. It’s a side project. What do you have against side projects? I’ve shot everything else. I like dogs and I’m an old man. †And it was brilliant! Its probably a natural process. And we are young, and we expect so much.
One thing I admire that Moriyama once he found his photographic voice, he never abandoned it. The subjects feel like they are starting to change, not just streets, but the visual ‘growl’ that had obviously always attracted him, and me to him, in the first place, is always present. Looks like he’s still boiling his film, or whatever it is to get that glorious grain, and gritty textures, keeping the same voice, just… you know it’s like Bob Dylan or Tom Waits, same damn sound, basically same ideas, but gentler, ‘more matured’ are not really the right words, maybe simply ‘wiser.â€
I enjoyed this review.
There was an impression of “Yoko” of Fukase though. It wasn’t Araki’s “Yoko”.
Moriyama’s “Yoko”… She is very charming.
Thank you,John!
Interesting thread as I’m always perplexed when people say they don’t get Moriyama. To me, his images are stunning, full of emotion, and I could look at each of them endlessly….
What is it exactly in (or about) his work that you find yourself having an emotional response to?