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PRESS | Priska Pasquer at Blouinartinfo | Japanese Photography: The Birth of a Market

Japanese Photography: The Birth of a Market

by Noelle Bodick, Art + Auction | December 16, 2015

Published at Blouin Artinfo

DAIDO MORIYAMA | Stray Dog, 1971 | ©Daido Moriyama

“When we first had the Daido Moriyama exhibition in 2004, nobody was interested,” recalls Cologne gallerist Priska Pasquer of the photographer whose most prized bodies of work from the 1960s and ’70s document the seedy streets of the Shinjuku district in Tokyo. “This changed completely in the past decade.”

Moriyama is but one of several postwar Japanese photographers to be rediscovered by Western markets over the last 10 years. Among the others whom Pasquer herself promoted at Paris Photo in the 2000s are Eikoh Hosoe, whose first book, Killed by Roses, 1963, featured Yukio Mishima as model and muse in psychologically fraught erotic imagery; and Shomei Tomatsu, who collaborated with Ken Domon on the photo book Hiroshima–Nagasaki Document 1961, which explored the lingering effects of the atomic bombs. These three, together with Masahisa Fukase, Yutaka Takanashi, Takuma Nakahira, and Kikuji Kawada, rank among the top tier of photographers gaining recognition in Europe and America under the banner of the Provoke movement, named for a short-lived avant-garde magazine many were affiliated with. (Another key Provoke artist, Nobuyoshi Araki, was already familiar in the West, though principally for his later, sexually explicit works.) In the aftermath of World War II, these artists cast aside the dispassionate observations of the documentary tradition and embraced deeply subjective styles, producing images that are jittery and stark, and often expose erotic machinations.

Western collectors’ newfound curiosity about the Provoke artists follows a concerted campaign by a handful of players that demonstrates both how changing tastes alter markets, and how markets can change tastes.

That campaign’s success so far rests on a confluence of trends. By the turn of the century, dealers and auction houses had successfully established a canon of Western photographers, flushed out most troves of their vintage work, and driven prices for it beyond the reach of new collectors. Dealers set out to find new sources of affordable material, and several Europeans looked to Asia. At the same time, the once marginalized field of photography was becoming more entwined with contemporary art, and young collectors who came to the medium through the work of later American artists like Larry Clark and Nan Goldin were primed for the earlier Japanese photographers’ gritty aesthetic, which soon earned the label are, bure, boke (“rough, blurred, out-of-focus”). Dealers were not alone in rediscovering this work. A number of museum curators, eager to explore new material and attracted to these pieces’ affordability, mounted exhibitions that in turn amplified dealers’ efforts to attract and educate collectors.

While both vintage and new prints now claim prices undreamed of by the photographers 15 years ago, they remain relatively affordable. “We are seeing a unique window in which you can buy masterworks for under $10,000 to $20,000,” says London photo dealer Michael Hoppen, whose gallery deals with many of the photographers or their estates, including Fukase, Kawada, and Miyako Ishiuchi. “If you were to look at masterworks by American or European photographers—even late prints by OK photographers—they are going for much more than that.”

Art markets regularly stage rediscoveries of both individual artists and supposedly undervalued movements—witness the recent rise of Gutai. The Provoke story appears to be a success: Endangered works have been brought to light and preserved, institutional validation of their art historical worth has been established, and prices have increased at a measured pace. But before the full impact of the market-driven resurgence is understood, questions remain, ranging from issues of recontextualization to the balance of supply and demand.

The market growth in the West has not been matched in Japan. This may be chalked up to the relatively small size of the country’s photo collector base. Likely, however, the lack of a surge in Japan stems also from collectors there being more attuned to the photographers’ original intentions, which revolved almost exclusively around the creation of photo books.

Japan’s postwar innovators piqued the interest of American and European curators decades before the dealers took notice. In 1974, Domon and Kawada were among those recognized in the first survey outside the country, “New Japanese Photography,” curated by Yamagishi and John Szarkowski for the Museum of Modern Art in New York. More surveys followed in this first wave, at the Graz Municipal Art Museum in Austria in 1976 and ’77, at Bologna’s Museum of Modern Art in 1978, and at the International Center of Photography in New York in 1979.

The market, in turn, has played a role in driving the museum exposure through the Provoke material’s relative affordability. Tate Modern, for example, never collected photography before curator Simon Baker joined the institution in 2009, immediately facing the challenge of building the collection from scratch while staying within budget. The attractive price point of the Provoke-era photography as well as access to living photographers who were able to make available complete bodies of work—the museum’s preferred method of collecting—helped make the effort feasible. “We don’t collect things because they are cheaper,” says Baker. “But with the Tate starting its collection very late, there are some things we see that are not viable for a museum—that arguably should have been bought when they were at a reasonable value, or that we should wait for as donations. We really have to think about how we use the resources we have.” Having collected work from a range of Provoke photographers in short order, the museum has in recent years mounted two shows with heavy emphasis on the field: “William Klein+Daido Moriyama” in 2012 and “Conflict, Time, Photography” in 2014. A third, “Performing for the Camera,” opens in February 2016, with work by Hosoe and Fukase, among others.

October also saw the unveiling at New York’s Japan Society of “For a New World to Come: Experiments in Japanese Art and Photography, 1968–1979,” running through January 10 and featuring the work of Ishiuchi, Moriyama, Tomatsu, and Jiro Takamatsu. And in January 2016, the Albertina in Vienna will debut a show of Provoke photographs curated by Matthew Witkovsky; it moves to the organizing museum, the Art Institute of Chicago, in July.

The move by auction houses to capitalize on the current moment has not gone unnoticed by the dealers who toiled for years to build the market. “This is virgin market with no actual control yet, which is why I think all the big auction houses are jumping in,” says Hoppen. The dealer cautions that the rush to bring new material to light may attract those interested in the market potential more than the aesthetics. “I don’t think one should be under the illusion that this is going to be driven purely by taste.”

Despite Hoppen’s concerns, the early dealers themselves have played a role in pushing ever more material to market. Most Provoke photographers are now septuagenarians and octogenarians, but many still living continue to work. Once the vintage output inventory became more difficult to find, some dealers in Japan and the West also started working with the photographers to create modern prints of old work on demand. “There is a great demand for the vintage prints,” says Zurich dealer Guye. “However, collectors can also benefit from the availability of modern prints, as Moriyama’s most iconic images are still available, and modern prints hand-proofed by the artist become vintage prints over time.” Gallerist Pasquer insists that the cultural divide still persists, making modern prints issued in open editions an inevitability. “You cannot work with Japanese photographers with this Western idea of editions,” she says.

Full article at: Blouinartinfo

Yutaka Takanashi, Towards the City, Part 3

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<br /><a href=”https://priskapasquer.art/wp-content/uploads/2014/09/TAKANASHI_0381501.jpg” data-mce-href=”https://priskapasquer.art/wp-content/uploads/2014/09/TAKANASHI_0381501.jpg”><img class=”aligncenter wp-image-9169 size-large” title=”Yutaka Takanashi, Untitled, from the series “Toshi-e”, 1969″ src=”https://priskapasquer.art/wp-content/uploads/2014/09/TAKANASHI_0381501-1030×696.jpg” alt=”” width=”1030″ height=”696″ data-mce-src=”https://priskapasquer.art/wp-content/uploads/2014/09/TAKANASHI_0381501-1030×696.jpg” /></a><br />

by Ferdinand BrueggemannThis is part three of of my essay “Yutaka Takanashi – Towards the City” for the “Yutaka Takanashi” exhibition catalogue, accompanying the show at the Fondation Henri Cartier-Bresson.((Essay: “Towards the City” [French/English]. in: Yutaka Takanashi, published by Éditorial RM, Mexico City and Toluca Éditions, Paris. Published on occasion of the exhibition Yutaka Takanashi, Fondation Henri Cartier-Bresson, Paris, May 10 – July 29, 2012))<a id=”back_ajs-fn-id_1-1960″ href=”http://japan-photo.info/blog/#link_ajs-fn-id_1-1960″ data-mce-href=”http://japan-photo.info/blog/#link_ajs-fn-id_1-1960″><br /></a>[Part 1 <a title=”Yutaka Takanashi – Towards the City (including a short history of the “Provoke” era), Part I” href=”/?p=11313″ target=”_blank” rel=”noopener noreferrer” data-mce-href=”/?p=11313″>here</a> and part 2 <a title=”Yutaka Takanashi – Towards the City (including a short history of the “Provoke” era), Part 2″ href=”/?p=14760″ target=”_blank” rel=”noopener noreferrer” data-mce-href=”/?p=14760″>here</a>]

Scrap Picker and Hunter of ImagesIn 1966, when his series <i>Tokyo-jin</i> was being published, Yutaka Takanashi formulated his fundamental attitude to the medium of photography. As a photographer, he moved between two extremes – on the one hand, a “hunter of images” who aims to capture the invisible; on the other, a “scrap picker” who only picks up what is visible.((Yutaka Takanashi, in: <i>Camera Mainichi</i>, no. 1, January 1966, p. 13. Translation in: reference as above <i>Masuda: Field Notes of Light</i>, p. 144.))<a title=”” href=”https://priskapasquer.art/wp-admin/post.php?post=14766&action=edit#_ftn1″ data-mce-href=”https://priskapasquer.art/wp-admin/post.php?post=14766&action=edit#_ftn1″><br /></a>“[…] two conflicting creatures seem to have settled into my body. One is a ‘hunter of images’ aiming exclusively to shoot down the invisible, and the other is a ‘scrap picker’ who can only believe in what is visible.”In the <i>Tokyo-jin</i> series, Takanashi was working primarily in “scrap picker” mode, photographing the visible elements of Tokyo, although the “hunter of the invisible” manifested itself in a number of pictures, such as <i>Hachiko Square, Shibuya Station, Shibuya-ku</i>, 1965, in which a girl appears to be reflected in the back of a man in a dark sports jacket leaning on a pane of glass opposite which she is standing.

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The arrival of the 1970s saw Yutaka Takanashi assuming the role of the “hunter” to a greater extent, this time in the greater Tokyo area. Driving through Tokyo and its surrounding area, he shot industrial wastelands, fields and power stations, inner-city buildings and highways – all true to the <i>Provoke </i>aesthetic. The images are sombre, frequently canted and occasionally blurred, often with very stark contrasts, whereby it is the blackness of the pictures rather than the light that seems to hold sway.

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Toshi-eThese new shots, together with works from <i>Provoke</i> magazine and the <i>Tokyo-jin</i> series from the mid-1960s, form the basis for Yutaka Takanashi’s first independent publication, <i>Toshi-e</i> (Towards the City).

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<i>Toshi-e</i> was designed by Kohei Sugiura, considered to be one of the leading photo book designers of the 20th century. Among the photo books designed by Sugiura are <i>Barakei/Killed by Roses</i> (1963) by Eikoh Hosoe, <i>The Map</i> by Kikuji Kawada (1965) and <i>The Lines of my Hand</i> (1972) by Robert Frank. (Roger S. Keyes describes Kawada’s <i>The Map</i> as “the most brilliantly designed Japanese book of its century”. Roger S. Keyes: <i>Ehon: The Artist and the Book in Japan</i>, New York Public Library, New York 2006, p. 256.)

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The intricately designed publication consists of a black box and two books: a small “notebook” of yellowish paper and, on top of it, a magnificent volume of photographs in a black clothbound cover adorned with a polished metal plate. The grainy photographs are printed in gravure on heavyweight paper.

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The “notebook” – entitled <i>Note Tokyo-Jin</i> – contains Takanashi’s long-awaited <i>Tokyo-Jin</i> series from the 1960s. In both form and content, <i>Note Tokyo-Jin</i> forms the foundation for the <i>Toshi-e</i> book placed upon it in the box. (According to Ryuichi Kaneko, people who purchased <i>Toshi-e</i> were disappointed that the <i>Tokyo-Jin</i> series was not published in a more elaborate form. See: Ryuichi Kaneko, Ivan Vartanian: <i>Japanese Photobooks of the 1960s and ‘70s,</i> New York 1999, p. 170.)

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While <i>Tokyo-Jin</i> is defined by its clear reference to urban life in the Japanese capital, <i>Toshi-e, </i>featuring photographs from the late 1960s and early 1970s, sees Takanashi cutting his ties with Tokyo, citing no specific times or specific places. Unlinked to any particular locations, the unnamed shots combine to create an image of a country that has metamorphosed into a dehumanised, life-choking environment. All of Japan appears to be in the throes of urbanisation or changing into an industrial landscape. People now only appear in the wings and, if seen at all, look like aliens in futuristic clothing.

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In spite of the vast differences in designs, the boundaries between <i>Tokyo-Jin</i> and <i>Toshi-e </i>are fluid. <i>Toshi-e</i> contains a number of images from <i>Tokyo-Jin</i> and both series see Takanashi touch upon the same subtheme – often through the barest insinuations – namely the encroachment of US consumer culture on everyday Japanese life. We see for instance a solitary man sitting by the sea with, on closer inspection, a Coca-Cola logo on his T-shirt; or a girl standing in front of a temple sporting a pair of Ray-Bans.

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Today, <i>Toshi-e</i> is seen as both the peak and the endpoint of the <i>Provoke</i> era. It is well worth noting that, with the gloomy vision of the future conveyed in <i>Toshi-e</i>, Takanashi flew in the face of the 1970s zeitgeist. The critical debate that took place in the 1960s about the collision – nowhere more apparent than in Tokyo – between tradition and modernity and between homegrown and Western culture was, in the following decade, drowned out by a consumer culture that crept into all areas of life. Yutaka Takanashi’s photographer colleagues turned their attention to other themes. By as early as 1969, Shomei Tomatsu had already turned his back on Tokyo in favour of Okinawa (photo books <i>Okinawa Okinawa Okinawa</i>, 1969, and <i>Pencil of the</i> Sun, 1972). In his masterpiece <i>Bye Bye Photography</i> (1972), Daido Moriyama explored the possibilities and boundaries of photography as a medium and published, among other things, shots taken on a trip to North Honshu in <i>Tales of Tono</i> (1976). The general focus of Japanese photography was now on rural Japan with its villages and small towns: among other things, Kazuo Kitai’s <i>Mura-e</i> [Towards the Village, 1980(( In 1975, Kazuo Kitai received the newly created Kimura Ihee Award for <i>Mura-e</i>.))] took up the counterposition to <i>Toshi-e, </i>Hiromi Tsuchida’s debut “Gods of the Earth” (1976) focused on people in Japan’s hinterland, and Issei Suda’s “Fushi Kaden” (1978) showed people at traditional festivals in various prefectures.

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Yutaka Takanashi, Towards the City (including a short history of the “Provoke” era), Part 2

SHOMEI TOMATSU | Untitled, from the series "Protest, Tokyo", 1969

by Ferdinand Brueggemann

This is part two of my essay “Yutaka Takanashi – Towards the City” for the “Yutaka Takanashi” exhibition catalogue, accompanying the show at the Fondation Henri Cartier-Bresson. (Essay: “Towards the City” [French/English]. in: Yutaka Takanashi, published by Éditorial RM, Mexico City and Toluca Éditions, Paris. Published on occasion of the exhibition Yutaka Takanashi, Fondation Henri Cartier-Bresson, Paris, May 10 – July 29, 2012)

[Part 1 here]

The “Provoke” era

The economic upturn of the 1960s, which established Japan as the third-largest economic power on Earth, took its toll on Japanese society. Particularly in the major cities, the boom led to the decline of traditional structures which in turn left a feeling of uprooting and perspectivelessness among the younger generation.

Especially in the universities, a fundamental opposition developed against the new political, economic and cultural structures that had emerged in the post-war period. In 1968, the resistance manifested itself once again in student protests against the pending extension of the “ANPO” security pact and the Vietnam War.

The sense of alienation and rootlessness felt by the young generation found artistic expression above all in photography from the end of the 1960s. (See also: Charles Merewether: “Disjunctive Modernity. The Practice of Artistic Experimentation in Postwar Japan”, in: Art, Anti-Art, Non-Art. Experimentations in the Public Sphere in Postwar Japan 1950-1970, Los Angeles 2007, pp. 24-29.)

This phase of the upheaval was documented by Shomei Tomatsu in his photo book Oo! Shinjuku. A resident of the Shinjuku district, he zoned in on the public and private lives of the young generation and the student protests which began in Shinjuku.

In the 1960s, Tomatsu had risen to become Japan’s leading photographer and, since his time at VIVO, was both mentor to and role model for the up-and-coming generation of young photographers. In 1968, Shomei Tomatsu took over the organisation of the first major retrospective exhibition of Japanese photography entitled “One Hundred Years of Photography: A Historical Exhibition of Japanese Photographic Expression”.((In this regard, a leading role was assumed by the Japan Professional Photographers Society. 1,500 photographic works were chosen out of some 500,000 submissions, and were exhibited in the Seibo Department Store in Ikebukuro, Tokyo, in June 1968.)) Among others, Tomatsu engaged Koji Taki and Takuma Nakahira, the young editor of the Gendai no me (Modern Eye) magazine, to work on this exhibition. Under Tomatsu’s influence, Nakahira had begun to practise photography in the mid-1960s, learning the required techniques with the aid of Daido Moriyama. (Ibid. p. 56, and see Akihito Yasumi: “Journey to the Limits of Photography: The Heyday of Provoke 1964-1973”, in: Christoph Schifferli (editor): The Japanese Box, Paris/Göttingen 2001, p. 12.) However, in the course of the preparations for the exhibition and the attendant discussions about the state of Japanese photography, Nakahira, Taki and others began to distance themselves from Shomei Tomatsu’s documentary yet symbolically charged approach to photography. (Ibid. p. 55.)

The exhibition on the history of Japanese photography opened in June 1968; shortly afterwards, in October of the same year, the youth revolt culminated in the anti-war demonstrations, which involved severe clashes. November 1968 also saw the appearance of the first issue of photo magazine Provoke, with which photography established itself as the medium of artistic expression at the end of the 1960s. (See. Charles Merewether: “Disjunctive Modernity. The Practice of Artistic Experimentation in Postwar Japan”, in: Art, Anti-Art, Non-Art. Experimentations in the Public Sphere in Postwar Japan 1950-1970, Los Angeles 2007, pp. 2429.) The work of the photographers involved in the magazine was so powerful that its aesthetic approach is still used to this day by Japanese and Western photographers, notable examples being the works of Osamu Kanemura and Antoine D’Agata.

Provoke was founded by Takuma Nakahira, his friend Yutaka Takanashi, critic Koji Taki (1928-2011)((Obituary on Koji Taki at Art It online magazine, 2011.)), and poet and critic Takahiko Okada (1939-1997). The first issue began with the Provoke Manifesto, signed by the four founders and postulating the alienation of language and reality and identifying photography as the medium that was capable of conveying reality – even if “only a fragment”. For the Provoke artists, the photographic image existed as “provocative documents of thought”, transcending language and ideological baggage:

“Today, when words have lost their material base – in other words, their reality – and seem suspended in mid-air, a photographer’s eye can capture fragments of reality that cannot be expressed in language as it is. He can submit those images as documents to be considered alongside language and ideology. This is why, brash as it may seem, Provoke has the subtitle ‘provocative documents of thought’.” (Provoke No. 1, p. 1. Translation from: Gerry Badger: “Image of the City – Yutaka Takanashi’s Toshi-e”, in: Yutaka Takanshi. Toshi-e (Towards the City). Books on Books 6, New York 2010, unpaginated.)

At Nakahira’s invitation, Daido Moriyama came on board for the second edition. Only three issues of the magazine were published in 1968 and 1969 in a small print run, and the group disbanded in early 1970. However, there followed three books by Takuma Nakahira (For a Language to Come), Daido Moriyama (Bye Bye Photography) and Yutaka Takanashi (Toshi-e – Towards the City), cementing the status of the ephemeral Provoke movement as a milestone in photographic history.

The magazine helped to establish a style which deliberately broke all the rules of traditional documentary photography. True to the concise Japanese description “are, bure, boke”, the photographs of streets, people and landscapes are indeed “grainy, blurred and out of focus”, canted images with stark contrasts. The primary purpose of these photographs is no longer to communicate information, but rather to convey atmosphere and raw energy.

To begin with, Yutaka Takanashi was shocked by the radical new aesthetic, which was propagated above all by Takuma Nakahira and Daido Moriyama. (See Rei Masuda: “Field Notes of Light”, in: Yutaka Takanashi. Field Notes of Light, exh. cat National Museum of Modern Art, Tokyo 2009, pp. 144-149, here p. 145.) However, as he himself was unhappy with the artistic options that had existed to date and was actively looking for a new aesthetic, Takanashi assumed the raw style of his two fellow artists:

“Photography was too explanatory, too narrational for me. […] It was natural for me to join Provoke. […] They said they were photographing atmosphere. But I was very precise and careful. […] But my work changed after I saw how they worked. I saw that I could not control everything. I understood that photography is only a fragment. I used to be a photographer who interprets things via language. And then Provoke changed me.” (Yutaka Takanashi, in: Déjà-vu, no. 14, Tokyo 1993.)

Nonetheless, Takanashi continued to see the photograph as conveying more than mere atmosphere and even after adopting the Provoke style, his works retained a rational, intellectual component.

This was evident in 1974 in his principal work Toshi-e (Towards the City), on which he worked in the years after the end of the Provoke group in 1970. Both internal and external reasons can be said to have led to the disbanding of Provoke. From the outset, it was a group of individuals brought together by a new idea for the medium of photography, but who set off in different directions again after working
((In the foreword to the third and last issue of Provoke magazine, Koji Taki wrote: “The photographs by the four photographers shown here are very different, and they share nothing, methodically speaking. On the contrary, they clearly conflict.” In: reference as above: Yasumi: Journey to the Limits of Photography, page 17.)) At the beginning of 1970, the social and political crisis had come to an end, and with it the era of change in Japanese society. The student demonstrations had been quelled by the Japanese authorities, the “ANPO” security pact between Japan and the USA was to be extended, and the New Left withdrew in frustration.

Yutaka Takanashi, Towards the City, Part 1

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<br /><a href=”https://priskapasquer.art/wp-content/uploads/2014/09/TAKANASHI_0382901.jpg” data-mce-href=”https://priskapasquer.art/wp-content/uploads/2014/09/TAKANASHI_0382901.jpg”><img class=”aligncenter wp-image-9174 size-large” title=”Yutaka Takanashi, West Exit Square, Shinjuku Station, Shinjuku-ku, from the series ” src=”https://priskapasquer.art/wp-content/uploads/2014/09/TAKANASHI_0382901-1030×694.jpg” alt=”” width=”1030″ height=”694″ data-mce-src=”https://priskapasquer.art/wp-content/uploads/2014/09/TAKANASHI_0382901-1030×694.jpg” /></a><br />

by Ferdinand BrueggemannPreliminary noteIn the past years Priska Pasquer has been introducing the photographic work of Yutaka Takanashi to the West. In 2009 Priska Pasquer and I co-edited the the first Western monograph on the artist: “<a title=”Contemporary Book Award for “Yutaka Takanashi. Photography 1965-74″ @Rencontres d’Arles” href=”http://japan-photo.info/blog/2010/07/15/contemporary-book-award-for-yutaka-takanashi-photography-1965-74-rencontres-darles/” target=”_blank” rel=”noopener noreferrer” data-mce-href=”http://japan-photo.info/blog/2010/07/15/contemporary-book-award-for-yutaka-takanashi-photography-1965-74-rencontres-darles/”>Yutaka Takanashi. Photography 1965-74</a>″, (to which I contributed the essay “<em>Takanashi’s Magnetic Storm</em>”.)In 2012 <a title=”See Fondation Henri Cartier-Bresson” href=”http://www.henricartierbresson.org/prog/PROG_expopup1o_fr.htm” target=”_blank” rel=”noopener noreferrer” data-mce-href=”http://www.henricartierbresson.org/prog/PROG_expopup1o_fr.htm”>Fondation Henri Cartier-Bresson</a> held the first Yutaka Takanashi museum exhibition outside Japan. On this occasion I wrote the this more extended essay “<em>Towards the City”</em> for the catalogue to the show. (Essay: “<em>Towards the City</em>” [French/English]. in: <em>Yutaka Takanashi</em>, published by Éditorial RM, Mexico City and Toluca Éditions, Paris.  Published on occasion of the exhibition<em> Yutaka Takanashi</em>, Fondation Henri Cartier-Bresson, Paris, May 10 – July 29, 2012) This essay concentrates on Takanashi’s series <em>Toshi-e</em> as well as his subsequent series <em>Machi</em> (Town) and the (unpublished) series on bars in Shinjuku, Tokyo. And since Yutaka Takanashi was the co-founder of the legendary <em>Provoke</em> group it includes a short history of the <em>Provoke</em> era. (A detailed description of the history of the <em>Provoke</em> era isn’t available outside Japan yet…)

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TokyoThe metropolis of Tokyo is the central theme of 20th century Japanese photography – from the artistic elevation of the city in pictorial images in the early days of the century to the dynamic representation of architecture and urban life based on the “new photography” (a literal translation of the Japanese “shinko shashin”) to the photographic documentation of destruction and reconstruction in the post-war period. In all of its facets, the city of Tokyo reflects the radical change that Japan underwent on its way to becoming an industrial society; it is a breeding ground for social change that also symbolises the collision of tradition and modernity.

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Tokyo-jinTokyo and its people are also the central theme in the work of Yutaka Takanashi, whose first significant series on the metropolis – <em>Tokyo-jin</em> (“People in Tokyo”) – was presented in Camera Mainichi magazine in 1966. By this time, Yutaka Takanashi had already made a name for himself as a professional photographer. After completing his studies in Photography at Nihon University and his exams at Kuwasa Design School, he worked as a commercial photographer at Nippon Design Center, one of Japan’s leading advertising agencies. In 1964 and 1965, he received an award from Tokyo Art Directors Club ADC for his advertising photography; in 1965, he was also presented with the Newcomer Award from Japan Photo Critics Association for his series of studio portraits entitled <em>Otsukaresama</em>.<br />

The <em>Tokyo-jin</em> series from 1965 is Yutaka Takanashi’s first great non-commissioned work. It depicts people in public spaces – on the street, travelling to work on the metro, shopping and engaged in leisure activities – creating a kaleidoscopic picture of downtown Tokyo.

One striking aspect is that virtually only people of working age are depicted in the series, with children and old people very much confined to the margins. With this series, Yutaka Takanashi unveils a whole new image of Tokyo. It is no longer the city of “little people”, as it had still been conveyed in the 1950s, for example by Japanese documentary photographer Kimura Ihee. Ihee’s photographs show Tokyo as a city in which life is played out in the <em>shitamachi</em> suburbs, where ordinary people live and work and where much of life takes place on the street in front of the low-rise residential buildings, small shops and businesses.

By contrast, Yutaka Takanashi shines a spotlight on life in the urban canyons between the concrete and glass walls of the new buildings in Shinjuku, the most densely populated district of Tokyo, which transformed itself into the modern heart of the city during the post-war reconstruction period after 1945. One aspect shared by all of Takanashi’s protagonists is that, whether in large crowds or small groups, they generally appear isolated and out of touch with their environment.

Yutaka Takanashi illustrates the far-reaching change that Tokyo underwent following the Second World War. As Japan rose to become a global economic power, its capital city became a magnet for young, mobile people from all over the country, who – frequently without family ties – aimed to join the new middle class and participate in the emerging consumer culture. Western business attire now dominated the streets of downtown Tokyo, with businesses and offices now populated by “salarymen” and female employees, saleswomen and “office ladies”.

In his photographs, Yutaka Takanashi repeatedly makes more or less subtle references to Western culture – for instance the Coca-Cola symbol on a T-shirt worn by a solitary man sitting on a wall – a testimony to the influence of the occupying US forces since 1945, something that has helped to shape everyday life in Japan since then.

The <em>Tokyo-jin</em> series made great waves in the Japanese photography scene and there was speculation that it would soon be published as a book. (Ryuichi Kaneko in: Ryuichi Kaneko and Ivan Vartanian: <i>Japanese Photobooks of the 1960s and ‘70s,</i> New York 2009, p. 170.) However, this did not take place until the 1970s, and in a wholly unexpected form.<br />

Image GenerationTakanashi’s series <em>Tokyo-jin</em> was produced at a time of radical political upheaval in Japanese society, a fact that was also reflected in the photography. One of the first high points for post-war Japanese photography came in 1959 with the founding of the VIVO group, which also acted as an agency until it disbanded in 1961. Bringing together important Japanese photographers such as Ikko Narahara, Shomei Tomatsu, Eikoh Hosoe and Kikuji Kawada, VIVO became the “epicentre” of Japanese photography in the early 1960s. (See Kotaro Izawa: “The Evolution of Postwar Photography”, in: <i>The History of Japanese Photography</i>, edited by Anne Wilkes Tucker et al Exh. cat Museum of Fine Arts Houston, New Haven/London 2003, pp. 208-259, here p. 217.)

The outlook of the agency and its member photographers was shaped by an underlying debate on the direction of photography at the beginning of the 1960s. This culminated with a dispute between Yonosuke Natori, one of the co-founders of modern Japanese photojournalism in the 1930s, and Shomei Tomatsu, soon to rise to fame as Japan’s leading postwar photographer. Natori claimed that the primary aim of documentary photography was to tell a story, and that the content, form and static detail should be chosen with a view to rendering this story as easy as possible to understand, and that the photographer was subordinate to the picture. However, the VIVO photographers did not subscribe to this view: they rejected classical photojournalism, linear narratives and the apparent objectivity of the mechanical representation of reality. They saw photography above all as a medium for individual expression and sought to use and expand its inherent artistic possibilities. For them, the image conveyed meaning far beyond the objects depicted, causing the VIVO photographers also to be known as the “Image Generation”.

As well as being a year of conflict about the future of photography, 1960 was also the year in which the political struggle in Japan reached its high point. This had a lasting politicising effect on 1960s art and cultivated the development of artistic movements that consciously opposed the establishment. This was triggered by the security pact negotiated between Japan and the USA (“antei-ho”, or “ANPO” for short), which had been signed at the same time as the (partial) peace treaty of 1952 and was due to be revised in 1960. The Japanese left fought vehemently against the revision and subsequent extension of the treaty, which it saw as a symbol of the growing negative US influence on Japan. This also increased political awareness among artists, who cast a critical eye on the changes seen by Japan during the strong economic growth of the 1960s. Photographic projects spawned by this included Kikuji Kawada’s bleak vision of Japan published under the title The Map, or Shomei Tomatsu’s no-holds-barred documentation of the consequences of the Nagasaki atom bomb, <em>11:02 Nagasaki</em>.

Although the open, non-narrative form of Yutaka Takanashi’s <em>Tokyo-jin</em> series owes a debt to Shomei Tomatsu’s subjective documentary approach, his photography can by no means be seen as being political. Rather, the series is a restrained, broad-based commentary on the realities of urban 1960s Japan, which contains references to the influence of US consumer culture.Part 2 <a href=”https://priskapasquer.art/?p=14760″ data-mce-href=”https://priskapasquer.art/?p=14760″>Here</a>

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