DAIDO MORIYAMA, “Daido Moriyama”

DAIDO MORIYAMA
Daido Moriyama

November 10th – November 13th, 2011

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Daido Moriyama was born in Ikeda in the Japanese prefecture of Osaka in 1938. After training as a graphic designer and being stimulated to take an interest in the medium of photography by Takeji Iwamiya, he moved to Tokyo in 1961. He had planned to apply for a post with the VIVO agency based there, whose chief initiators included the photographers Shomei Tomatsu and Eikoh Hosoe. But as VIVO was at that time in the process of breaking up, Moriyama sought a different solution. He had the opportunity of working with Eikoh Hosoe, where he was primarily responsible for the publication of photographs. As he confirmed in one of his own articles, it is to Hosoe that he owed all the tools for his subsequent work. After three years, in 1964, he resigned his post with his great role model, and went freelance.

From then on he produced countless shots taken in the cities of Japan, which he combed on foot, or, à la Jack Kerouac, by car “on the road”, always with his hand-held camera. In rapid succession, the photographs bear witness to the virulent and unpredictable life of the streets, showing the contrasting mix of Asian-traditional and Western-modern, as well as a world of new media and liberal attitudes that was penetrating everyday life. The street-photographer Moriyama records all he encounters but pronounces no judgements; he looks into individual faces, sees geishas and street-girls, accompanies parades, notices architectural features and façades in seemingly random juxtaposition, peers into private niches or looks at film posters, slogans and advertising logos with their promises. While on the one hand the turbulence of civilization is reproduced, on the other Moriyama also wrests from this very turbulence, time and again in still-lifes and minute details as well as chiaroscuro depictions, calm, almost meditative moments.

If the imagery of Moriyama’s photographs is brusque, contrasty, out-of-focus and grainy, this is due on the one hand to his rapid style of shooting, often while he himself is moving, in which he often does not even look through the viewfinder, and on the other to his intensive work in the darkroom, during which he experiences the motifs once more and seeks to condense them. The shot of the Misawa “Stray Dog” (1971) is as it were a symbol, chosen by Moriyama himself, of his own œuvre: border-crossing, uncommitted, instinctive and highly attentive to atmosphere and detail. The act of taking a photograph as of post-processing can certainly be described as an existential necessity for Moriyama, to which he yields expansively and uncompromisingly.

We should not forget Moriyama’s early fascination with the works of the American photographers William Klein, Robert Frank and Weegee. In particular Klein’s book New York, first published in Japan in 1957, attracted the particular interest of the young Japanese photographer. In 1971, on a trip to New York. Moriyama was to go on to compose an image of the city that was both his own and yet related. Likewise of great importance was the Pop artist Andy Warhol, and here in particular his silk-screen prints for the Car Crashes (1963), which are directly adopted in Moriyama’s own 1969 series on the theme, titled Smash-Up. Another series, likewise influenced by Warhol, deals with the overcrowded yet stimulating world of commodities, with Coca-Cola and V 8 juice, was published in the influential and revolutionary photo-magazine Provoke (among whose founders was Moriyama’s friend Takuma Nakahira), which provided a striking forum for a confrontation with new aesthetic possibilities.

| EN

Daido Moriyama was born in Ikeda in the Japanese prefecture of Osaka in 1938. After training as a graphic designer and being stimulated to take an interest in the medium of photography by Takeji Iwamiya, he moved to Tokyo in 1961. He had planned to apply for a post with the VIVO agency based there, whose chief initiators included the photographers Shomei Tomatsu and Eikoh Hosoe. But as VIVO was at that time in the process of breaking up, Moriyama sought a different solution. He had the opportunity of working with Eikoh Hosoe, where he was primarily responsible for the publication of photographs. As he confirmed in one of his own articles, it is to Hosoe that he owed all the tools for his subsequent work. After three years, in 1964, he resigned his post with his great role model, and went freelance.

From then on he produced countless shots taken in the cities of Japan, which he combed on foot, or, à la Jack Kerouac, by car “on the road”, always with his hand-held camera. In rapid succession, the photographs bear witness to the virulent and unpredictable life of the streets, showing the contrasting mix of Asian-traditional and Western-modern, as well as a world of new media and liberal attitudes that was penetrating everyday life. The street-photographer Moriyama records all he encounters but pronounces no judgements; he looks into individual faces, sees geishas and street-girls, accompanies parades, notices architectural features and façades in seemingly random juxtaposition, peers into private niches or looks at film posters, slogans and advertising logos with their promises. While on the one hand the turbulence of civilization is reproduced, on the other Moriyama also wrests from this very turbulence, time and again in still-lifes and minute details as well as chiaroscuro depictions, calm, almost meditative moments.

If the imagery of Moriyama’s photographs is brusque, contrasty, out-of-focus and grainy, this is due on the one hand to his rapid style of shooting, often while he himself is moving, in which he often does not even look through the viewfinder, and on the other to his intensive work in the darkroom, during which he experiences the motifs once more and seeks to condense them. The shot of the Misawa “Stray Dog” (1971) is as it were a symbol, chosen by Moriyama himself, of his own œuvre: border-crossing, uncommitted, instinctive and highly attentive to atmosphere and detail. The act of taking a photograph as of post-processing can certainly be described as an existential necessity for Moriyama, to which he yields expansively and uncompromisingly.

We should not forget Moriyama’s early fascination with the works of the American photographers William Klein, Robert Frank and Weegee. In particular Klein’s book New York, first published in Japan in 1957, attracted the particular interest of the young Japanese photographer. In 1971, on a trip to New York. Moriyama was to go on to compose an image of the city that was both his own and yet related. Likewise of great importance was the Pop artist Andy Warhol, and here in particular his silk-screen prints for the Car Crashes (1963), which are directly adopted in Moriyama’s own 1969 series on the theme, titled Smash-Up. Another series, likewise influenced by Warhol, deals with the overcrowded yet stimulating world of commodities, with Coca-Cola and V 8 juice, was published in the influential and revolutionary photo-magazine Provoke (among whose founders was Moriyama’s friend Takuma Nakahira), which provided a striking forum for a confrontation with new aesthetic possibilities.

Rinko Kawauchi, Lieko Shiga, Asako Narahashi and others, MIZU NO OTO at FotoGrafia. Festival Internazionale di Roma

MIZU NO OTO
Rinko Kawauchi,
 Lieko Shiga, Asako Narahashi and others
FotoGrafia – Festival Internazionale di Roma

September 23rd – October 23rd, 2011

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FotoGrafia – Festival Internazionale di Roma
MACRO Testaccio

Curated by 3/3 in dialogue with Rinko Kawauchi
In co-production with Galerie Priska Pasquer, Cologne and G/P gallery, Tokyo

A haiku by Matsuo Bashô: “Into the old pond — A frog leaps. The sound of water.”

Water as an element is the common thread that binds together the work of five women photographers — some well known on the international scene, others young emerging artists — who, though differing greatly from each other, well represent the most interesting lines of Japanese photography in recent years.

The show titled Mizu no Oto: Sound of Water meshes perfectly with the theme “Motherland” chosen for this year’s photography festival. It explores the lines of a sensitivity expressed by close attention to tiny things, a deep tie to nature and the flow of existence by elaborating on a key image in Japanese art. From Hokusai’s The Great Wave to Asako Narahashi’s foreground waves, water is an energetic and vital element, metaphor for the cycle and cyclic character of life.

Though water may not be literally present, it takes us back to a liquid vision, a fluidity that creates points of contiguity between visual and emotional states, between macrocosmos and microcosmos, the real and the imaginary, the personal and the universal. Water becomes the vehicle of resonances charged with metaphoric and poetic power.

It is this plane of relating to reality — an idea of life and fate always projected in an utmost dimension — that connects these artists to the immediate experience, a concept that John Szarkowsky focused on in the exhibition “New Japanese Photography,” held in 1974 at the Museum of Modern Art in New York (curated by Szarkowsky and Shôji Yamagishi, it was the first major show of contemporary Japanese photography held outside Japan).

An ecstatic experience, a psychic state of suspension, in search of immediacy and unselfconsciousness: sensations, perception, images that strike us and come into contact with our innermost selves.

Lieko Shiga believes that “taking photos is not like shooting, but the reverse: it’s like being shot. I am shot, and the entire timeline of my existence is resurrected in the photograph. So, I think photography is the revival of eternal time and of eternal life.”

On the one hand, this relationship with the continuous flow of experience and existence brings us back to a constant present (as David Chandler notes in his afterword to Rinko Kawauchi’s latest book, Illuminance, as regards her relationship to memory) and to that skin-deep relationship made up of epiphanic events that Mayumi Hosokura narrates with her photos. On the other hand, though, this doesn’t mean eluding intention, such as is very much present and clarified in Yumilo Utsu’s playful creations.

The pictures created by these five photographers and their fluid approach are thus almost magically maintained in a state of delicate balance with reality. Their narrations open up to poetic and creative possibilities of existence that, though far from any Western-like objectivity, do not waive an open and at times even ironically explicit dialogue with the West.

| EN

FotoGrafia – Festival Internazionale di Roma
MACRO Testaccio

Curated by 3/3 in dialogue with Rinko Kawauchi
In co-production with Galerie Priska Pasquer, Cologne and G/P gallery, Tokyo

A haiku by Matsuo Bashô: “Into the old pond — A frog leaps. The sound of water.”

Water as an element is the common thread that binds together the work of five women photographers — some well known on the international scene, others young emerging artists — who, though differing greatly from each other, well represent the most interesting lines of Japanese photography in recent years.

The show titled Mizu no Oto: Sound of Water meshes perfectly with the theme “Motherland” chosen for this year’s photography festival. It explores the lines of a sensitivity expressed by close attention to tiny things, a deep tie to nature and the flow of existence by elaborating on a key image in Japanese art. From Hokusai’s The Great Wave to Asako Narahashi’s foreground waves, water is an energetic and vital element, metaphor for the cycle and cyclic character of life.

Though water may not be literally present, it takes us back to a liquid vision, a fluidity that creates points of contiguity between visual and emotional states, between macrocosmos and microcosmos, the real and the imaginary, the personal and the universal. Water becomes the vehicle of resonances charged with metaphoric and poetic power.

It is this plane of relating to reality — an idea of life and fate always projected in an utmost dimension — that connects these artists to the immediate experience, a concept that John Szarkowsky focused on in the exhibition “New Japanese Photography,” held in 1974 at the Museum of Modern Art in New York (curated by Szarkowsky and Shôji Yamagishi, it was the first major show of contemporary Japanese photography held outside Japan).

An ecstatic experience, a psychic state of suspension, in search of immediacy and unselfconsciousness: sensations, perception, images that strike us and come into contact with our innermost selves.

Lieko Shiga believes that “taking photos is not like shooting, but the reverse: it’s like being shot. I am shot, and the entire timeline of my existence is resurrected in the photograph. So, I think photography is the revival of eternal time and of eternal life.”

On the one hand, this relationship with the continuous flow of experience and existence brings us back to a constant present (as David Chandler notes in his afterword to Rinko Kawauchi’s latest book, Illuminance, as regards her relationship to memory) and to that skin-deep relationship made up of epiphanic events that Mayumi Hosokura narrates with her photos. On the other hand, though, this doesn’t mean eluding intention, such as is very much present and clarified in Yumilo Utsu’s playful creations.

The pictures created by these five photographers and their fluid approach are thus almost magically maintained in a state of delicate balance with reality. Their narrations open up to poetic and creative possibilities of existence that, though far from any Western-like objectivity, do not waive an open and at times even ironically explicit dialogue with the West.