I went into Tokyo to see an exhibition. Maki Shibata is plainly skillful, but there’s a visible hesitation in how she balances self and subject. If she were to show the courage to abandon the style she’s been given, perhaps something new would come into view. I hope a change in environment will push her further. Yohei Ono’s work felt light; his approach to both the event and the space seemed tentative, incomplete. I found myself wondering whether this critique could really earn a Nikon prize. Both are strongly influenced by Kanendo Watanabe, yet perhaps they lack the drive to sublimate that influence into their own expression. Their fundamentals are already solid. I want them to move beyond formulaic language and the desire for approval. There is no creative momentum greater than the act of forgetting oneself.
I’m worn down by yet another dismal election result. But it is precisely in confronting ugliness that an artist’s true worth is tested. Turn your back on the majority.
I rarely photograph other people’s work, but the constraints of what creation “ought” to be are something we loosen and tighten in turns. For now, I want to proceed while gradually loosening them.
I usually work with a 6×7 format and a 100mm standard lens. A few months ago, on impulse, I introduced a new lens. In 35mm terms it’s roughly 20mm—wide enough to be considered ultra-wide—and the embodied sense of distance I’ve developed with my subjects is completely useless. It’s difficult even to isolate fragments; I’m being forced to update my methodology. Every few years I’ve changed formats or experimented with longer lenses to unsettle a vision that’s grown too comfortable, but this is the first time I’ve tried something this wide. Precisely because it’s such an unwieldy focal length—nothing like the comfortably shootable 28–40mm range—it feels worth the experiment.