What is, was, and likely won’t be for long.
Late summer nights in the city
This photo was taken almost exactly 10 years ago to the day. A shot I decided to post as another from the same evening (albeit from a higher vantage point) is in my new photobook, Tokyo Conversations.
The street is still there, and mercifully it hasn’t changed much at all, although the wonderful little seating area with the kettle is sadly no more. The world in general, on the other hand, most certainly has changed, and looking back at this scene, the lack of masks and smartphones in particular make it feel like a very different time indeed.
Broken and abandoned Japanese vending machines
Last year I posted some photos of old and broken Japanese vending machines. A set of fascinatingly sad metal boxes that I rather ambitiously suggested had their own distinct personalities, or at the very least a sort of quiet dignity all their own.
The more I see, however, and the more that does seem to ring true. There really is something about them. It could be simple nostalgic value, or perhaps it’s because they still stand tall as if ready and willing to serve once again. Whatever it is though, they are always an absolute treat to encounter, and objects I’m more than happy to go well out of my way to photograph.
All that said, some of these newer finds are distinctly more dilapidated than dignified, but I did get to shoot a kind I’ve been hoping to stumble upon for the longest time — the formerly elusive film version. A wonderfully rare blast from the past that compared to some of the others is still in surprisingly good shape.
Tokyo Conversations, a new photo book
In the last couple of posts I’ve briefly mentioned the new photo book my friend Giovanni and I put together. However, after all the work that has gone into it, and the lovely responses it has received, I had to write something proper. Amazingly it is actually going to happen, as within 5 days of going live on Kickstarter, we hit the funding target, meaning any money we get above and beyond that initial goal can be used to make the book even better, with the likes of embossing, more expensive paper etc.
To be honest, our initial idea wasn’t wholly original. We basically decided to have two visual conversations. With the colour section, I sent Giovanni a photo, and he replied with one in return — an image that to him complemented, or somehow commented on mine. I then did the same with his reply, and so on and so forth. The only rule being that each and every photo had to have been taken in Tokyo. Then, once we hit our 20 photo limit, we went through the same pattern with black and white, only for the monochrome set it was Giovanni who got the ball rolling.
It turned out to be a fascinating process. With some images, an idea for a response came quickly. Almost immediately on a couple of occasions. But invariably it took time. Weeks for many of them. Thoughts that would be forever circulating in the back of our minds until the answer presented itself. A creative endeavour that was as interesting as it was distracting, which for me in particular was hugely beneficial after the tragic loss of my wife Akiko. It provided me with something to get completely lost in, while at the same time produce something that seemed worthwhile in a world suddenly bereft of meaning.
All that said, two photographers sending each other photos is one thing, but making them into an attractive looking book we could both feel genuinely proud of is another thing altogether, This was especially the case considering we really wanted to do something different by making it a flip cover, 2-in-1 book. An idea we had, but at the same time had no idea how to implement. This is when Holger Feroudj, a professional photo book designer working for the prestigious German publisher, Steidl Verlag, stepped in. And to see the transformation from half-arsed idea and rough PDF file to fully formed and fantastic looking book was nothing short of mind-blowing. Feelings that were enhanced even further when visual image developer and photographer Elena Bertocchi created mock-ups, enabling us to see that somehow, and sometimes seemingly against all the odds, we had managed to create something that as a whole was both special and really quite unique.
So, if you’d like to get involved, and get a copy of the book at the same time, this is the link to the Kickstarter page: Tokyo Conversations.
Down the line it would also be lovely to have an exhibition featuring a selection of the photos, which is something we are beginning to look into, but for now it’s all about the book, and this is a small selection of my shots:
The colours, decay and increasing emptiness of Japan’s countryside
Japan’s ageing demographic and urban migration mean that many of the nation’s smaller towns are slowly, and very visibly dying. Places one can find all over the country, from faded tourist spots to once thriving communities. A seemingly irreversible change that has understandably hit much smaller, and more rural settlements especially hard. Like those in the the photos below, which despite the decline, are only a few hours out of Tokyo.
Our original plan had been to visit some abandoned buildings we knew the location of, but a closed road due to tunnel repairs unexpectedly put paid to that, and with no Plan B in place, we decided to drive round some nearby roads and see what we could find.
That, perhaps unsurprisingly, turned out to be lots more abandoned and long since locked up houses, along with glimpses of what had once been. There were no people out and about, and the few we did see inside their homes were all elderly. A day of exploration that was also contributed to by bright sunshine and some truly ferocious storms, which considering what we saw, seemed wholly fitting.
Completely unconnected, but just a quick mention again of my new book project, Tokyo Conversations, that has very recently gone live on Kickstarter. I’ll do a proper post on it, but in the meantime it’s a collaboration with my friend Giovanni, and is a unique, flip cover, 2-in-1 book featuring 20 colour and 20 monochrome photos. A visual, Tokyo focused back and forth we had over the course of quite a few months.
If that sounds interesting, and you’d like to join in, help us out, and get a book in the process, here’s a link to the campaign: Tokyo Conversations.
The stark transition from old Tokyo home to just an old Tokyo house
One of the many benefits of street photography is that you can regularly walk the same streets and still come away with different photos, as people provide almost infinite variety to an otherwise comfortingly familiar backdrop.
Tokyo being Tokyo, however, means that even the latter is prone to regular change, with demolition and regeneration a constant, often jarring occurrence. Yet on some occasions, the buildings remaining after the inhabitants have departed, can provide an even starker reminder of how transient life is, let alone the urban landscape.
On a different, and much more positive note, I’m very pleased to announce that my friend Giovanni and I have produced a photo book together. Tokyo Conversations is a unique, flip cover, 2 in 1 book featuring 20 colour and 20 monochrome photos. A visual, Tokyo focused back and forth we had over the course of several months.
In an attempt to get it published, we have just created a Kickstarter crowdfunding page, so if you’re interested, there is much more info, photos and also a little teaser video here: Tokyo Conversations.