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December 13, 2011

Shingo Wakagi: Now’s the Past

Filed under: books,Photography,reviews — John @ 8:32 pm

Now’s the Past isn’t one of those life-altering, previous-experience-shattering photobooks, but it is a competent collection of pictures with a really good name.

Shingo Wakagi, a photographer who has been commercially active since at least 1997 was given access to the sets of two period Japanese films, The Sea Watches by Kei Kumai and the Kon Ichikawa film Dora Heita in 1999 and 2001, respectively. As decent as the images are, the resulting collection of (mostly) monochrome and color images is fairly similar to the kinds pictures you might expect anyone to make in similar circumstances. There’s an overall attempt at a dialogue examining the contrast between existing in a real present only to labor at creating a fictional past. The lead technique to accomplish this is often the juxtaposing actors in period costume as they interact with contemporary technology and locations. In some of the more obvious examples (mobile phones aside!) we’re shown that some of the buildings you see in films are hollow and when shot from the rear, guess what, they look even more phony. The Fiction/Reality thing runs a little shallow throughout the book but some of the pictures on their own are quite nice.

The portraits of cast members themselves tend to be of most interest to me personally.

And I think I might have bought this book for this picture alone:

Now’s the Past is one of those books that you might not mind having, but wonder why you brought it home in the first place. It’s not really rare or valuable or even terribly interesting, especially compared to Wakagi’s excellent color work from the past five years or so. But it’s by no means a bad book to look through. I’d still suggest Labyrinth of Dreams if you absolutely have to have an A4 sized book about a late 20th century Japanese film on your shelf.

December 11, 2011

december digital diary update: BOOKS

Filed under: books,japan,Photography — John @ 10:19 am


This is my second copy of Tsuchida sensei’s Counting Grains of Sand. I didn’t really need two, and at the regular price wouldn’t have bought another one. After seeing it repeatedly at the same used bookshop in Shimokitazawa for about 4 months at 2000 yen I figured that is no one else was going to take advantage of this deal I might as well give it a good home. I think I’ll do a review of it sometime.


This is a very, very rare book indeed. It was one of the few books I brought with me to Japan in 2004. It’s a course reader compiled by my photo professor in Nebraska in 1984 (I was in kindergarten) for his History of Photography class and was one of many books left on a table for interested students when he retired in 2003. It is old-school xerox copies of photo theory articles, reviews of then-contemporty exhibitions, all sorts of Szarkowski pieces, and a glorious 8 page interview with Garry Winogrand from Art Forum in 1977 that I haven’t been able to find online anywhere else. One article on Friedlander makes some good points, but only at the expense of having to wade through some chewy art-talk text.


There is some interesting stuff in that picture but quickly accessible, it isn’t.


Showa 11 by Kineo Kuwabara. This is definitely something I want to share on this blog. At the severe expense of sounding all “hipster” I’m just going to have to say that (puts on large plasticky glasses) he is one of the greatest street photographers ever but you’ve probably never heard of him. (throws glasses across room) And this is not at all good for anyone interested in street photography. Kuwabara was roaming around Tokyo with his Leica in the mid 1930s creating a portrait of this city which is as far as I know, unmatched by nearly anyone else at that time and rarely if ever bettered as a collection of photos of the city since.

The book outside of its cardboard case:

Open it up and. . .

WHAT’S THIS? Funny thing about this particular copy- the first page (my bibliophila is not to the level that I know what it is actually called) is a bit stiff. In fact, if you aren’t careful you will miss it and go straight to the title page. Which is what I think the clerks at Genkido in Jimbocho must have done since this isn’t a rare book (nearly every used photobook shop in the area has a copy) but the fact that is was signed by Mr. Kuwabara is something special indeed. This copy was 6000 yen and another unsigned copy I saw later that night was 5000 yen. Maybe his signature is only worth 1000 yen though. Either way, it is a fine book and Kuwabara is important for anyone shooting in Tokyo to be cognizant of.


This is just a shot of the photobook selection at a shop whose name I always forget. It’s behind Rathole gallery at the end of this red-bricked street and red-bricked buildings full of shops selling High Fashion clothes. It’s all imported photobooks which means they are all twice what you’ll see them for on Amazon. I don’t usually purchase things here but their “damaged” cart can be fruitful from time to time. I picked up Friedlander’s Family for about thirty dollars a few years ago, and the Eggleston Whitney catalogue for the same price. Both had been dropped and suffered some slight impact damage to the spine or front cover corner. Insides? Pefrect. God Bless that employee and their buttery fingers.


OHHhhh YES. (goes over and picks up large plastic glasses, puts them back on. Squeezes into tight and pink American Appy pants and a howling wolf shirt, cranks up Arcade Fire) You’ve probably never heard of this, either. Yeah, It’s pretty rare. It’s pretty hardcore. (tosses nerdy shirt, pants, glasses, MP3 player out the window. Shudders, puts on regular non-ironic nerd clothes) Funny thing- I saw this book in a shop in Jimbocho and while I couldn’t begin to afford what they were asking (it was signed. They actually checked) after getting home I scoured the internet for images from this book to share because it is totally worth sharing with people interested in Japan, Tokyo, and Photography. All of Naito’s books are super expensive but I got a deal on this at So Books (my favorite bookshop in Tokyo.) and plan on getting a little crazy with a review of it here sometime soon. It deserves some internet representation. Oh man. (puts on grumpy old man beard) What is up with books today? Masatoshi Naito’s Tokyo was shot over 10 years from 1975 and was published in 1985. No one is shooting or publishing anything half as good as this book is today. And they haven’t for a long time now. This book, my friends, this book is amazing.

Apologies for having a post about photobooks but not showing any pictures of the photos in said books. I do plan on reviewing each over the next few weeks, complete with more pictures of their insides than is probably socially acceptable.

November 29, 2011

Jun Abe: Manila

Filed under: books,Photography,reviews — John @ 8:12 pm

The latest book from Osaka based publisher/photographer collective Vacuum Press is a collection of sweaty pictures Jun Abe took in the Philippines simply entitled Manila.

Rather than any sort of introduction the title page includes the only non-photographic contextual information in the entire book: August, 1983.

The inclusion of the date is interesting in that it offers the viewer a slot in which to chronologically shelve this book with the rest of the Jun Abe collection:
Citizens (1979 – 1983)
Manila (August, 1983)
Kokubyaku Note (1996 – 1999)

Similar to the world Abe discovered on the streets of his home town again an aggressive use of the frame the camera creates is multiplied in amongst (and through) a ramshackle collection of other windows and edges on the streets of Manila. The ways he scatters an image with limbs and eyes and crevices makes this book visually intriguing. The fact that he was working far from home in a land remote from his own rough hometown adds a new kind of interest.

While Abe’s work often deals with a gaze back at the camera and the photographer (and by extension, you the viewer) in Manila this interaction makes a majority of the book. As intensively as he looks, he is seen and watched. One is always aware that this isn’t his town and these aren’t his people.

Abe’s interests in the Philippines during his visit extended to the interiors of the town and other creatures which inhabited it.

Several images in the last quarter of the book were made within the confines of a prison. The odd thing is that bars and guards aside, the flow of images is structured so that you don’t really know how you got there, or even when you arrived. Just like the rest of the country he saw under an August sun almost 30 years ago every surface is worn, ragged, sometimes missing teeth, and decorated.

Part of my personal enjoyment to the pictures in Manila and indeed Abe’s other work is his utter lack of assigning a particular moral message about the subjects or societies he photographs. These aren’t pictures attempting to evaluate or better an aspect of humanity. They’re one man’s records of a place seen. Luckily we are able to take a peek as well.

Like the rest of Jun Abe’s books, Manila can be purchased from Japan Exposures.

November 6, 2011

1978 Asahi Camera special issue: Takehisa Yumeji

Filed under: books,japan,magazines,Media,Photography,portraits,tokyo — John @ 11:24 am

Last night in Jimbocho I picked up the December 1978 special issue of Asahi Camera, a volume featuring the relatively unknown photographs by the Taisho era popular illustrator Takehisa Yumeji. I’ve been a fan of Yumeji since the first time I came across one of his pictures and end up visiting his memorial museum in Nezu at least twice a year. A while ago at a Book Off in Suidobashi I found an odd little book of his photos of women which was part of a larger series of photobooks (Tombo, something). Yumeiji’s paintings, late teens/early 1920s graphic design, and overall darkly tragic and romantic artist-life has been the subject of seemingly uncountable books and magazines. And postcards. And scarves. Pins. Book covers. Bookmarks. Stationary. Wall hangings. etc. But as far as I know there is no properly printed duo-toned photobook collecting all of his photos of his pale sad-eyed and distant women in retro kimonos. If there was I doubt there’s a price I wouldn’t pay to own it.
In the meantime the magazine will have to suffice. Sure, the off-camera gazes are attractive but what I really get excited over is Yumeiji’s framing- no doubt helped by the “accuracy” of his Kodak Pocket Bantam cameras. These are perfect pictures in their own way on their own terms.

It’s not all retro kimonos and pre-war sentimentalism! Sometimes it is that and pictures taken on the street:

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