Showing posts with label photography. Show all posts
Showing posts with label photography. Show all posts

Saturday, 1 August 2020

Yukio Mishima - The Death of a Man

A book I'm much looking forward to and one I'll add to the list of titles for this year is Yukio Mishima - The Death of a Man published to commemorate 50 years since the author's passing. With photographs by Kishin Shinoyama. As of yet I can't see details of the translator, the book is published by Rizzoli. The Death of Man at Rizzoli USA https://www.rizzoliusa.com/book/9780847868698/

Tuesday, 9 February 2016

Provoke: Between Protest and Performance




A book that I'm very much looking forward to, due in March from Steidl, Provoke: Between Protest and Performance accompanies the first exhibition dedicated to the magazine of the late 1960's. The exhibition, which began in Vienna at the end of last month and continues on to four locations, ending at The Art Institute of Chicago in May 2017. Sadly be unable to see this exhibition in person, be the book is very much looking like an essential substitute, the book is edited by Diane Dufour and Matthew Witkovsky.



Provoke: Between Protest and Performance at Steidl Verlag


and at Amazon

Tuesday, 22 September 2015

In The Wake - Japanese Photographers Respond to 3/11





Recently The Museum of Fine Arts in Boston held the exhibition, In The Wake: Japanese Photographers Respond to 3/11, which finished showing back in July although it's one that I'd really liked to have seen, there is however an accompanying book of the exhibition which was published for those of us who were unable to attend.

exhibition website

for the book  


Sunday, 12 July 2015

Lizard Telepathy Fox Telepathy - Yoshinori Henguchi





















A pleasing aspect of this book that caught my attention after receiving it was that weighing it in my hands it's proportions very much reminded me of the volumes produced by Katydid Books, most of which are now sadly slipping out of print and beyond, so to have a new translation of Japanese poetry is a welcome thing, here's to the making of a series. In the afterword, entitled Let's Talk About What We're Really Talking About from translator David Michael Ramirez II there is quite a bit made of the breaking of literary traditions and conventions in Henguchi's poetry, he describes the book's formation in detail with infectious enthusiasm, also hidden at the back of the book in slightly small text is a rather brief biography/chronology of Henguchi himself, perhaps this is how he wanted it, in which it's mentioned that he was published in Arechi/Wasteland, Henguchi's voice is a contemporary one.

The book comes in dual text and also the poems appear in differing fonts which subtly presents or recreates the effect perhaps of their dōjinshi origins, the book opens with the piece Nihongo a sprawling prose poem that spreads over four pages, (most of the poems in the book remain confined to a single page), in which Henguchi vents his frustrations with stilted language and how it's slidden into atrophy, and of this condition's affects in daily life, it's an impressive opening piece, after reading it I started to recall how perhaps older collections of poetry came with an index of first lines, with many of Henguchi's poems I envisioned the book being presented with an index of last lines as Nihongo culminates with - I would like to start a Nihongo that receives applause even in absolute darkness. After Nihongo there comes a selection of Henguchi's photography chaptered with the title For Dad, many of these shots are interior details, shots of the family home?, is that toilet plumbing in one?, another is a close up of tatami repaired or joined together with thick black carpentry tape, many are close ups reducing the image to elemental presences, we stare at the metallic foot grip of an escalator step, vivid green bamboo wall tiles, traditional imagery juxtaposed with that of the 'make do' present, a view through the waves in the glass of a window take on the perspective of looking down, a plane view out into the panoramic expanse of an ocean, in others we see perhaps the same image presented from a different angle or of the same face enlarging, getting closer and closer, the section ends with what could be a still of moving water, paused.

Reading the poems the reader might begin to look for common overarching themes, there's much reward in contemplating and comparing Henguchi's poetry as a whole as well as reading them one poem at a time, the narratives of Henguchi's poetry is one often caught between absolutes, either trying to escape them or alternatively forming new ones, or questioning where they might begin as in the prose poem; Framing the Freedom of Being Torn Apart which observes - Everything from start to finish is sure to be fiction. then posits the question - Where and when would you say is not fiction?, as with many of the poems there is the presence of unattainable realities, frustratingly some of these close at hand, desired or non-desired, the poem answers the question with the observation to the answer that lingers in the mind - In spite of that everybody is a damn creation, Henguchi's narratives are unflinching in their depictions of the vacuums between the fabric of realities imposed and unimposed, the struggle between the official and the unofficial is a theme not too distant in many of the poems and the precariousness of living and choosing between them, there's the challenging line - Realizing that the more sincere you become the more meaningless you become. Framing the Freedom of Being torn Apart is a poem made of clipped sentences, in ways it culminates in many places and times, the ending is a plea against maturing, but a little before the end a line laced with absolutism seems to arrive at a culmination before the poem's end - Everything, has an end in everything, Henguchi's voice blends visions of the darkest depths whilst still retaining in places indefatigable lines of resolve.



Truly no matter what happens it won't matter at all.

from Falling Slightly Forward       



Lizard Telepathy Fox Telepathy at Chin Music Press



      

Friday, 13 February 2015

Dazai by Moriyama Daido

No doubt it's about time I created a Facebook page for these kinds of book reminding posts and likes, but a book that appeared last year that I'd love to have a flick through, (although you can see a page by page flick through here), is Moriyama Daido's Dazai, published by Match and Company as part of their MMM series. The book consists of a new translation of Dazai Osamu's 1947 story Viyon no Tsuma/Villon's Wife by Ralph McCarthy accompanied with a photographic narrative set to the story by Moriyama.

Dazai by Moriyama Daido at Match and Company

Saturday, 24 November 2012

Tales of Tono

 












Perhaps it's something about this time of year that sets my reading interests wandering away from Japanese Literature, it's hard to fathom the real reason for this, I think I remember it happening to me around about the same time last year, here's a list of non-Japanese authors that I've read recently -

Sven Lindqvist - The Myth of Wu Tao-Tzu
W.G Sebald - After Nature
Gustave Flaubert - November
Andre Breton - Nadja
J.K Huysmans - Against Nature
Girogio de Chirico - Hebdomeros
Julian Green - Paris
Edouard Leve - Autoportrait
Denis Johnson - Train Dreams
Villiers de L'Isle Adam - Cruel Tales (ongoing)
Alejandro Zambra - Bonsai
Georges Rodenbach - Bruges la Morte

There's little resemblance to the list that I thought I was going to read, but I'd still like to read the titles from my previous list, among books that I'm hoping to reach over the next few months - The Red Laugh by Leonid Andreyev, The Double Death of Quincas Water-Bray by Jorge Amado, Lesabendio by Paul Scheerbart, The Master and Margarita by Mikhail Bulgakov and The Republic of Wine by Mo Yan, but chances are I'll end up reading only a fraction of these and discover a whole crop of other titles that I want to read. After enjoying Bonsai by Alejandro Zambra, Ways of Going Home is a book I'm looking forward to in January.

Whilst reading my way through some of the above a book that I've been picking up in between and returning to is Tales of Tono recently published by Tate Publishing, the Tate Modern, in London has an ongoing exhibition of Moriyama and Klein and have also published a career spanning book of Moriyama, which contains some newly translated texts, but I thought I'd go for Tales of Tono, a book originally published in Japan nearly forty years ago. The photographs are accompanied by essays by Moriyama, (translated by Lena Fritsch who also contributes an essay, Simon Baker also contributes an informative essay), in which he explains his reasons for choosing Tōno, situated in Iwate Prefecture, and in the first essay Moriyama mentions two authors connected with Tōno, the folklorist Kunio Yanagita, whose book Tono Monogatari/The Legends of Tono is available in an anniversary edition, translated by Ronald. A Morse, published by Lexington Books, the other author Moriyama mentions who has connections with Tōno is poet and short story writer Miyazawa Kenji. Moriyama talks of Tōno being his imagined furusato, (hometown), and his fascination of maps, looking through the photographs they begin to take on a meditation on topography, representative of a certain time and place, when I look at these pictures the feeling that I'm looking at a scene which has been paused in the middle of a film and that at any moment a slow movement will begin, and the imagined film will spring back into momentum, this sensation always occurs to me when I look at photographs. The photographs are largely presented in black and white, with very few in colour, they capture an almost ethereal Tōno, a night time matsuri festival caught in flash light, the fabric designs of washing hung out takes up almost the whole of a frame, a hut of stored logs appear as a series of white circles of differing sizes in the blackness. Shop fronts and vending machines take on a starkness that remains undetected in the world of colour, but in the black and white, the substance of dark and light begin to become reversed, is it night time or day time?, sunlight or moonlight?.

Describing in the next essay his departure for Tōno, his enthusiasm for his project is infectious to read, travelling on a diesel train on the Kamaishi Line, his anticipation in seeing the famous landmarks mentioned in the folk stories collected by Yanagita, Mt. Hayachine and Mt. Rokkoshi and the Sarugaishi River, the fact that the locals he asks are ignorant of these places provoke a series of reflections for Moriyama. Mentioning the inclusion of a portrait of himself in the book I began to contemplate on the sequencing of the photographs as they appear in the book with how they corresponded with the route Moriyama travelled as he explored Tōno. Moriyama describes his determination to photograph everything that takes up his field of vision, his guest room, landscapes, cemeteries, the streets and fields, portraits of the people, the gravel of the roads. He describes his longing to meet kappa, oshira sama and zashiki warashi, the spirits of children who if seen are portents of good fortune, all of which figure in the Tono monogatari. A particular portrait that strikes me is of a young person, I can't ascertain the gender, the picture is grainy like a negative, the details of the eyes are hidden in shadow, it could sound a slight cliche to describe the photograph as haunting, but for me the image has a searing quality to it, and I've found myself returning to it again and again. Among the final essays through autobiographical sketches Moriyama makes parallels with photography and folklore, to read of his descriptions of photography as a form of narration provokes the viewer to examine and re-examine the photographs. Moriyama describes his struggle with imagined places with that of real places. Tales of Tono is a remarkable book for different reasons, for the photographs and also for the translated essays that give us a glimpse into the process of a unique photographer.

William Klein and Daido Moriyama is on at the Tate until 20.01.2013  

 



Thursday, 19 January 2012

Coming Closer and Getting Further Away



















I first came across the photography of Asako Narahashi through the book Heavy Light and then again of her exhibition Half Awake and Half Asleep in the Water,  Narahashi's photographs are a heady evocation of disorientation, that  question our sense of proximity and balance in a spatial perspective, in them Narahashi would wade out into the sea and then turn her back and would photograph from the perspective of the sea looking back inland. Half Awake and Half Asleep in the Water, Nazraeli Press is a book that I've still not managed to get a copy, but I've kept an eye out for other publications featuring her work, a recent publication is Coming Closer and Getting Further Away a booklet size collection which features a selection of photographs from the exhibition, Asako Narahashi 2009/1989: Coming Closer and Getting Further Away, Tokyo Art Museum, 2009, the text is in Japanese and English and comes with an additionally essay on Asako Narahashi entitled The Form of Water by art critic Shino Kuraishi, (translated by Franz K. Prichard), in which he traces Narahashi's photographs through her previous exhibitions and the books NU-E (1997), Funiculi Funicula, (2003) and also Half Awake and Half Asleep in the Water. Kuraishi explores the concept of nue in Narahashi's photography, here the term nue is derived from describing the mythical creature but is also used to represent the sense of an un-identifiable person or an ambiguous indeterminate attitude. The booklet contains some photographs of the exhibition by Takashi Yasumura and also thumbnail images of all the photographs exhibited as well as full page selections of the photographs, which include construction shots of skyscrapers and express ways from Dubai and also photographs similar to those seen in Half Awake and Half Asleep in the Water taken in Jindo in South Korea.


For more information and images please check out the publisher's page.


The booklet is published by Osiris an imprint based in Shibuya in Tokyo who publish an interesting selection of books on photography, often in dual text editions, including; Nakahira Takuma's 1970 book For a Language to Come and Kanemura Osamu's My Name is Shockhammer and also a DVD collection of poet Yoshimasu Gozo's films Ki-Se-Ki:gozo cine, (trailer below), and many more, an imprint well worth exploring.





OSIRIS

Asako Narahashi's webpages





Saturday, 30 April 2011

Nakaji Yasui
















If I were in Kyoto ath the moment I'd probably be trying to head over to the Taka Ishii Gallery who are presenting an exhibition of works by the photographer, Nakaji Yasui, the exhibition runs from March 25th - May 7th, so there's not much time left to get to see this if you have spare time during Golden Week. Nakaji Yasui was born in Osaka in 1903, Yasui's photography is both photo journalistic and experimental, often his work would include photo montage. His photographs have inspired many generations of photographers to come after him. The above book which is not related to the exhibition, is dual text, it is now though I think out of print, but copies may still be available.

Saturday, 31 July 2010

Tracks: The World of Gen Otsuka














Published by Heibonsha in November 1996, the book has texts by Teruo Okai and Ryuichi Kaneko, with English translations by Jeremy Angel.The first half of the book is made of plates of his photographs, and then there's the texts afterward. The photographs here are a selection made by Ryuichi Kaneko, who also put together the exhibition Tracks of Gen Otsuka. Hajime 'Gen' Otsuka, an important Japanese photographer who has little representation on the Internet, this book, (which I think is out of print), presents a great selection of his pictures, starting from the work that earned him attention from some of Japan's top photographer's of the day, 'Gecko' from 1933 which was included in the British photographic almanac; 'Modern Photography 1934-35'. Thanks to Teruo Okai's biographical piece we have an insight into the life of a remarkable photographer, who's father was also interested in photography, Otsuka was brought up in a household surrounded by photographic equipment. Otsuka was born in 1912, his father owned a coal mine, but the families fortunes were lost when the mine was destroyed in a gas explosion. As a student of photography he was well connected, Yasuzo Nojima was an early admirer of his work, Otsuka walked the Ginza searching for well attired young ladies to use as models, staying away from using professional models. An early success came when an exhibition of his was held at Kinokuniya Gallery in the Ginza.

The photographs in this book show Otsuka's range, theres a stunning collection of portraits, Toshiro Mifune, (1949), Setsuku Hara (1951), Hikosaburo Bando (Kabuki actor 1949), Mishima Yukio (1949), Eiji Yoshikawa(1951), theres also mention of a study of Kawabata Yasunari, although no images are included, and among the non Japanese portraits theres Juliette Greco 1961, Margot Fonteyn 1959, Marcel Marceau 1955, Charlie Chaplin, and Henri Cartier-Bresson, (1965), but this is a small selection of names here. Otsuka worked at Asahi in the 1930's and was abruptly sent to China to photograph the Sino-Japan War, although he was more interested in the everyday life of the Chinese, and was interrogated by disgruntled military who had thought perhaps he should have been producing propaganda like images instead. He was present at the defeat at Taierzhuang, where he was lucky to have escaped alive. A striking image is that of the juxtaposition of a Japanese bomber seen from the perspective of a rice/barley? field, but also the photograph has caught a cricket jumping at the same time, giving the impression that the cricket is nearly the same size as the aeroplane. Near the end of the second world war, he was sent to Korea as an advisor to a newspaper, on his return he was posted to photograph the identity numbers on U.S B29 bombers, whilst on these flights he witnessed the fire bombing of many cities, including Kobe. Some photographs are taken during the war years, and some from Hirohito's tour of the Kansai area from 1947, another historically interesting series of plates here are those capturing some location shots and the filming of Japan's first colour film 'Carman's Home-coming/Karumen Kyoko Ni Kaeru' directed by Keisuke Kinoshita, and there are also some montage pieces Otsuka put together, mainly depicting his thoughts on post war society, a man reclining under an umbrella, hiding from a shower of falling Yen notes. There also photographs of Mount Fuji, taken in various seasons and from many viewpoints, and there are many dream like shots of Tokyo during snowstorms that span his career. In 1964 he organized the photographic exhibition of the Tokyo Olympic Games, a couple of years after he organized two exhibitions of Henri-Cartier Bresson. This book gives a great selection of Otsuka's oeuvre, shortly before his death in 1992 an exhibition of his work was put together under the title The Tracks of Gen Otsuka.
 



Thursday, 8 July 2010

Tokyo Autumn











Araki Nobuyoshi is a Japanese photographer largely known for his erotic photography, although he has produced many books of photo-journalism. His book Tokyo Autumn, or Tokyo Fall, published in 1992 by Chikuma Shobo is a collection of observations and images he and his wife took as they wandered through Tokyo's suburbs. Many of the pictures are of places not usually seen in photographs of Tokyo, here you see demolition sites, garages, shop fronts of stores closed long ago, deserted streets and alleys, street corners. The photographs give a feeling of the passing of time, as if these buildings are intruding from an age alien to us, and they act as a reminder of the collapse of history, things not lasting forever, the photographs included in this book were taken originally in 1972, but recompiled for this book. When I see an old building that has been restored I usually get no impression of it's age, it's surface belies it's real identity, it's become in a way a manicured replica of the original. This book reminds me that time, once passed, is irretrievable. Also there are a few shots of people, a paint sprayer sits after preparing a car to paint, in another, a body builder holds a pose for the camera, and next to a crowd eating under the cherry blossom, a man asleep, corpse like, is lying under some blankets.
 
Just as the passing of time slips our control, there's a shot here of a tree's roots breaking through a wall and over-spilling onto the pavement, reminding us that although the appearance of nature in cities is controlled, this picture gives a glimpse that nature is always not to faraway to take back what man has temporarily built upon. I'm not too sure as the availability of this book, but here's some links.

Tuesday, 2 March 2010

Hyperart:Thomasson














Walking back from a lunch break, Genpei Akasegawa and two friends had walked passed what has now come to be known as 'The Yotsuya Staircase', unconsciously walking up one side, walking along the small platform and then walking down the opposite side. A small flight of stairs, seven in all on each side, with a wooden banister, much the same as many other stairs, although when looking at it, something was amiss, usually the platform would lead to a door, but here there was no door, looking at them, they seemed to be a completely useless flight of stairs. Perhaps at some distant point in time there had been a door at the top but now that it was no longer there, it had rendered the stair's use obsolete. On closer inspection they came to see that a section of rail from the banister had come off and been replaced by a new piece of wood, they surmised that not only it being a staircase that actually led to nowhere, it was also being preserved and maintained as such. So begins Akasegawa Genpei's book, that had appeared originally as columns in photography magazines from the mid-eighties, it was published in Japan by Chikuma Shobo Publishing back in 1987.

Realizing that he was moving on from l'art pour l'art, to le stairs pour le stairs maybe, Akasegawa termed this art 'Hyperart', and debating it over with his students they decided they needed a more precise name for their discoveries, and they came up with the name: Thomasson. Gary Thomasson a baseball player who had then recently been signed by the Yomiuri Giants encapsulated everything that the art signified, since starting his career with the Giants he had failed to contact bat with ball, although being paid a mint he served no great purpose. So the momentum for the hunt of Thomassons begins and they discover the 'defunct ticket window of Ekoda' (sealed with plywood), 'the pointless gate at Ochanomizu', (looks like a gate but completely sealed with concrete), mysterious eaves that jut out of walls protecting vanished mail boxes removed long ago. Many examples prove to be puzzling to solve, a floating doorway appearing high in a wall that belongs to the basement of a house?, and the photograph used as the book's cover from a report sent in from a reader in Urawa, noticing a wall of a dry cleaners that appeared to have a blip in the middle, closer inspection revealed that it was in actual fact a doorknob for a door that was sealed over, 'what's more, the doorknob actually turned' the report concludes. Soon with numerous reports of sitings and photographs being sent in by the magazines readers, some from Paris and China, it becomes clear that Thomassons are not only a Japanese phenomenon, Thomassons can be found wherever humans create buildings. Collecting together paintings, models and photographs, Akasegawa hosted the worlds first exhibition of Thomasson artefacts which he called 'A Neighbourhood in Agony', and the interest garnered bus tours to visit the locations of sitings. Told in compere like prose, the book explores the unconscious nature of architecture, which in turn has created some truly unintentionally inspiring objects which questions what we have come to think of what constitutes as art, or architecture.

Translated by Matt Fargo, who provides a summary of his thoughts about translating the book, Reiko Tomii also provides an in depth essay on Akasegawa Genpei, who has also won the Akutagawa Prize in 1981, under the pen name Katsuhiko Otsuji, and is also a key figure within the Japanese art world since the early sixties, involved with groups like Hi-Red Center and Neo-Dada, in 1963 he was at the centre of the 1000 Yen Note incident. Published by Kaya Press the book is full of photographs of Thomasson's and also has trailer which you can see here, (at 2.02 check out the picture Iimura Akihiko took of himself standing at the top of a chimney, no guide ropes!), and if you have seen a Thomasson take a photograph and fill in a report and mail it here.


Kaya Press

Monday, 11 January 2010

Shigeichi Nagano Magazine Work 60s




















Collecting together some of Shigeichi Nagano's magazine photos from the sixties, (some from the fifties too), this new book from publisher Heibonsha, is a great introduction into the photographer's work. Featuring colour and black and white images, it also comes in Japanese/English text, with a preface by Manabu Torihara, which gives excellent information on Nagano's history and influences, a brief biography is included as well as an interview with Shigeichi Nagano giving brief explanations behind the photographs.
 
Born in Oita prefecture in 1925, he studied at Keio University in 1942, after graduating he worked as a magazine editor. In 1958 Nagano visited Hong Kong for two months, and when he returned to Japan he exhibited the photographs he took there, which are collected in this book. At the end of the sixties he was the photographic editor at Asahi journal, where he employed among others Daido Moriyama. In 1965 he collabarated with Kon Ichikawa on the film Tokyo Olympiad.

The photo's themselves are much like the photo-journalism of Cartier Bresson, who together with Robert Capa was a major influence on Nagano. Nagano's pictures include elements of street photography, catching Japan unposed, one of the pictures I'm sure uses montage, a beach scene where the sea seems to overlap with the sand which reminded of Nakaji Yasui's montage pieces. Along with photographers like Ken Domon and Ihei Kimura, Nagano was part of the growing school of photo-realism in Japan. Some pages of the book can be seen at the link below. The book is available here and here.