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On the occasion of the opening of the workshop with Rinko Kawauchi The Construction of a Photobook (ISFCI, Rome, 19-23

May 2010), Machiel Botman interviewed Rinko Kawauchi in a public lecture, here transcribed. M.B.: It is very strange to ask me, of all people, to do an interview with Rinko because I've never got so much to say about photography. Luckily, I'm better when it is about somebody else's work. Then also sometimes I'm introduced as an expert on Japanese photography and it is totally not true. But I do have many questions. Rinko, I think you're a photographer who turns things into gold. My first question is: if you could choose to be an animal, which animal would you be? R.K.: Maybe a bird. M.B.: Which bird? R.K.: A sparrow... M.B.: And would this sparrow be going around with a Rolleiflex to take pictures? R.K.: I think so! Catching... M.B.: So, you said somewhere that for a photographer shooting stuff magically is a necessity and accidents are necessary. I would like to talk a bit about this. When you say this, I think you're not talking about certain skills, but maybe about a floating condition a photographer can put herself in. I also think that you're not only talking about photographing something magic, I think you're talking about how a photographer can bring about to create something magic, like a wizard, right? R.K.: Of course this is not only limited to photography, but in the moment when you're about to produce something, to create something, if there's not a certain percentage of magic, you cannot create anything. M.B.: This is the question: is it about being inside a feeling more than being inside a thought? R.K: I think it's both. I just concentrate in my work so that things just happen. I show you an image from my work Aila. The tree and the cloud have the same shape. I didn't retouch anything. It came just naturally. I took this photo just one time, and then it disappeared. And this is a kind of magic. M.B.: And I'm sure it makes you very happy. R.K: Yes. So when I took that picture, I really felt like a kind of magician. M.B.: But were you really touched from what you were seeing?

R.K: I think so, like, you know, we never know why we are living now. It is a kind of mystery. But sometimes we can touch this kind of mystery, and this is the magic. M.B.: How did you become like this? To be able to recognize magic... Is it your family, is it your father, your mother? R.K.: I don't think so, maybe it comes from photographs. M.B.: You also said that accidents are necessary, that they are welcome. What is your best photographic accident? R.K.: Actually I can't say what is the best, but this is a good example. I have a lot of photographs... M.B.: So the most important question to make is: do you invite these accidents? R.K.: I don't know, it just comes. Maybe I guess if I really really concentrate on the subject, then it just comes. M.B.: You had that experience? R.K.: Yes. M.B.: So to learn that accidents can be beautiful, does it make you more self-secure in life? Less afraid to make mistakes with people, with yourself? R.K.: Kind of...It's not eternal. That's why I keep photographing. M.B.: Because photography helps you? R.K.: Yes. M.B.: Can you give me one example? R.K.: When I photograph, I really feel charging energy from the subject. M.B.: From the moment of photographing? R.K.: Yes, but also from the subject. Also I feel like sharing, the subject and me. M.B.: Can the subject be a stone? R.K.: Yes. M.B.: But this all has to do with concentration. With focus. I would like to know how does it

really work. What happens? Is it immediate or does it takes steps? R.K.: I don't need the steps, just to concentrate. M.B: You work with film. In between the moment of photographing and developing the film do you forget the image? R.K.: Sometimes I forget, sometimes I remember, it depends on the situation. M.B.: I'm sure you always remember the focus, the atmosphere when you took the picture. R.K.: Not everything, sometimes I forget. Like when I'm drunk... M.B.: I know the feeling! When you photograph, what can you hear? Can you hear a voice? Can you hear music? Can you hear silence? R.K: If I really concentrate and my condition is really nice I can't hear anything. M.B.: Do you have other such moments in life when you're not photographing where you can't hear anything? R.K.: When I got nervous, like before lectures. I mean not this time! I'm really comfortable this time! M.B.: Just before photographing, do you hold your breath? R.K.: Sometimes! M.B.: And then I read photographing answers to your hunting instinct. Moriyama in his famous book Hunter, one of his first book, he was hunting the streets of the cities. What do you hunt for? R.K.: I completely agree. When I photograph, I'm really like an hunter. M.B.: But what do you hunt? Sparrows? R.K.: Just with my camera! Also I can say that when I photograph, even if they don't die, I feel as if I shot them. After shooting, I always print by myself, and it's a bit like cooking. I bring my sparrow at home, and I cook it! M.B.: I will come back to the cooking later, but first your experience with the sparrow. What about people? You also have this hunting feeling? You can't cook them! R.K.: Nice question! It's kind of different. If I have to make a portrait, I think the important point is sharing, not shooting. You must share the atmosphere.

M.B.: And also the moment of photography? R.K.: Yes. M.B.: It is very important. Is it a feeling between you and people or is it also conversation? R.K.: It's difficult to have conversation, because sometimes you have to take a picture of someone you just met ten minutes before. M.B.: So I have another question, maybe we come back here, because I also feel it is really important this idea of sharing the moment with whom you photograph, even if it is one second or all day. This question is about transition. We all have our moment of transition, while you travel for instance, or while you go from being sad to being happy. Do you photograph inside those transition moments? R.K.: I think so. With my family for instance. M.B.: So maybe what I mean is that there is not a plan, and more reaction. R.K.: I can say yes, and I can say no. The meaning is that always when I photograph I follow my instinct. M.B: And you did it right away, when you began photographing? R.K.: Yes. M.B.: Now that you have many years of experience, is it changing? R.K.: No. M.B.: Looking at your photographs, it is very clear that you're touched by objects. What is the secret of an object? R.K.: It is a difficoult question. I could say again that this is the same kind of mystery when we think about why are we living now or why is this glass here. M.B.: But do objects live? R.K.: Yes. M.B.: How? R.K.: They just co-exist. M.B.: In Cui Cui you often make the objects co-exist with persons. Are they in a dialogue?

R: I don't think so, they just co-exist. M.B.: Are they equal? R.K.: Yes, as both living on earth. M.B.: In your photography - it is an easy question maybe, but there's something to say about it - do the objects support people? Do the people support the objects? R.K.: I think so. M.B.: They're not fighting! But when I look at your photographs and your books I see beautiful different images, so not alike. But the thing that touches me most is that they do not fight, it's like they're fishes, almost. So, your photographic language, it is very personal and very light, also very original and very...Rinko. Do you see changes from when you started? R.K.: I don't think so. M.B.: Would you like it to change sometimes? R.K.: I can progress.. M.B.: Of course it is not what i mean!I think there's nobody in this room that thinks that you need to progress. R.K.: I mean, inside, the mentality. M.B: And because of everything that happens in your life, the language could change? R.K.: Maybe. M.B.: Maybe the sparrow knows...About language, I would like to mention Takuma Nakahira. as an important photographer for you. I have a question to you about him, but first I want to explain a little bit. Nakahira was member of this movement, Provoke, it was also a magazine in the late '60ties, and he tried to restructure photography from documentary to more selfespression. It is a very easy explanation of course. Moriyama published his book Good Bye Photography and Nakahira his book For a Language to Come. Moriyama's Good Bye Photography was like a movie, like an explosion in that then recent tradition of William Klein and For a Language to Come went deeper in a philosophical and poetic manner and with a beautiful expectation for new and different photographic language to happen in the future. Did you meet Nakahira and did you give him one of your books? R.K.: I never met him! M.B.: Don't you think it is time?

R.K.: I didn't have the opportunity! M.B.: He's been waiting since 1972 for new languages! What is the photographic language for yourself and maybe also in general inside photography? R.K.: It is really difficult question! I just want to say photography is like a metaphor of our subconscious. M.B.: And the language comes first from our subconscious? R.K.: I think so. M.B.: More then style or technique? R.K.: I think the language is the most important thing. Not technical things, not subject things. At least for me. M.B.: But it is a beautiful parameter, it is a beautiful thing that the subconscious can communicate through such a technical device. Quite a paradox, right? R.K.: Yes! M.B.: I would like to move onto a bit about your books but first I want to show your Cui Cui. What is so special about this book is that sometimes I feel that I'm looking at a story, and each time that I look at it, and as soon as I think that, you do something that stops the story. Maybe it is not the right expression, it doesn't stop the story, but you move into something different that doesn't belong to the story. Rinko you are obviously a non-linear photographer, and then, especially in this book, I get the sense of looking at a story, but then it feels like the story demolishes itself, and becomes something else. Maybe linked to this story, is another story. So my question - it is not a very specific question, sorry! - Is how did you construct this book? R.K.: You mean the sequence? M.B.: Yes, and not only! R.K.: I first asked to a graphic designer to make the sequence, I brought four hundred pictures to our first meeting. Then he said first you have to make the sequence yourself, but I said no, I always do it by myself, but I can't do it now because the subject is my family. It was kind of hard to make the sequence, because if I tried it I would have cried all the time, so I couldn't do it. M.B What is wrong with crying? R.K Because I always think when making a sequence, I have to keep calm, I have to keep a

distance from my pictures and with myself. Anyway, the graphic designer said you should do that, and I went back home and cried. Then it was a very hard work. Then maybe two weeks later I came back to the graphic designer, and he said: it's done! Intentionally, I didn't follow a chronological order, sometimes including older photographs and new photographs because it's real for me, like my feelings. Sometimes I confuse old memories and recent memories. Especially when my grandfather passed away I really confused my memory. Then I wanted to show my feelings, that's why I made the sequence like this. M.B.: It is really a question also for photographers how personal you can get, how close you can photograph and tell your stories. We are all different also, some people can tell a lot with objective, more distant photos, others can tell as much while being very close, and very near to the emotions. That's also photography, right? R.K.: Also a really difficult question. I just would like to say, when I photograph, if I don't feel anything, I think it will be a bad photograph, but if I feel something, it will be good photograph. M.B.: So Rinko, you print your photographs, you put them on the floor to look for a sequence and to find combinations. Is your floor large enough? R.K.: Not enough! Usually Japanese people do not have a lot of space. M.B.: Because the true way to edit is to put the things on the floor not to look them at the computer! R.K.: I make it this way! M.B.: Do you start this process before you finish taking pictures for a certain book, already? R.K.: It depends. For instance for my first book Utatane, I photographed everyday, I printed every day, I edited every day, I did everything during the same time. M.B.: Does this process influence your taking the pictures? Your photographs? R.K.: I think so. M.B.: So in a way you're teaching yourself something. R.K.: Yes. M.B.: Do you find surprises on the floor? Do they give you directions for the book? R.K.: Yes, and sometimes the pictures are like guides. M.B.: Do you make dummies?

R.K.: Yes, but they're not exactly dummies, I put the photos in ring binders. M.B.: My next question was going to be: do you make fast dummies or beautiful objects? Do you make presents for yourself when you make dummies? R.K.: Not presents. I basically try to keep things together in the way I want to look at them, not taking particular care of the layout. M.B.: I think the dummies are the best gift you can give to yourself, after twenty years when you look back, you see your process. R.K.: I agree. When I was younger, I made dummies: I put photographs on paper and made books just for me and sometimes I see those dummies and they remind me of that time, when I was younger, what I was thinking and what I felt, like a moment. M.B.: I can talk for hours about dummies. Do you do it alone or do you ask people for help for editing or layout? R.K.: Usually I don't, sometimes I show it to my man, to my designer or to my editor and I ask them what do you think? M.B.: And then the answer, does it change the book? R.K.: I don't think so! M.B.: The moment to decide to finish the book, when it is really finished, is it terrible for you? R.K.: No no, I'm completely happy! M.B.: To me, the way you compose your books is not linear: you do not try to explain and in doing so you leave your viewers free. They can build their own story, right? R.K.: Yes, I agree. M.B.: Do you wonder about the stories people make for themselves? R.K.: I don't mind! M.B.: Were you ever surprised by somebody's stories, somebody's interpretation? R.K.: Sometimes. For example, sometimes I have talks, conversations like this, then after that the observer says I thought you were more a sensitive person, not such a strong person. You're strong, but in my imagination you were more gentle. M.B.: So then something else, I worked with Miyako Ishiuchi. Miyako is in her sixties and she also published her three books when she was quite young, within a few years, and I found it

an amazing explosion. These books are called Yokosuka Story, Apartement and Endless Night, classic photobooks by now. So when we talk, I imagine this young woman running around in a man's world photographing, printing, editing, making layout, looking for money, preparing exhibitions...Can you tell us how Rinko lived her life when you did exactly the same, but in only one year? R.K.: Time is changing, so I imagine in her generation it was very hard to be a woman photographer. Maybe is a bit easier to survive for our generation. In my case, I had some ideas to make a book. And I got a good chance to publish three books simultaneously. So, I was just lucky. M.B.: You call photographing, printing and editing a succession of discoveries. R.K.: Is one of the important things for a photographer. M.B.: Does it mean that you cannot fix your ideas in the beginning? R.K.: Again, I want to say that at the beginning I want to follow my instinct. M.B.: It is easier for you making a book or an exhibition, or it is the same? R.K.: I don't think there's a difference, in both cases the photography must be strong. M.B.: What is the difference between a book and an exhibition? R.K.: I think book is more intimate while exhibition is more for public. Exhibition is like collaboration between the place (museum or gallery) and me. M.B: Reading your stories on the Internet, I decided that this beautiful intimate freedom in reading a book, in looking at a book, deserves a name. Could it be Dragonball? R.K.: When I was a child, I read the comics Dragonball, then suddenly my younger brother interrupted my reading time, because he really wanted to read the new Dragonball story. I did not want to be interrupted, because me and Dragonball were having such nice time, enjoying. That's why I really like books style, it is the concentrated Dragonball world. I just want to say books and I have an intimate relationship. M.B.: Does photography deserve to be pushed to more intimacy then it is now? R.K.: I think so. M.B.: How? R.K.: For example, when I read books, I can go to another world at that time. M.B.: I could also talk for hours about the fact that I think photography should be more

intimate. I have two last questions. Did you take any picture when you where very young? R.K.: What do you mean? M.B.: Like Dragonball age! R.K.: I started photography when I was seventeen. M.B.: Do you wish you have taken photographs when you were very young? R.K.: I wish I could have, but I had no camera at that time. M.B.: I thought so. To me your work is many things, it touches many things and it excludes nothing. And then to me is totally meaningful and light at the same time. My last question is the only thing I wonder about: it is also one large selfportrait? R.K.: I think I could say like that. M.B.: Rinko, thank you very much for this interview! Audience: What does Cui Cui mean? R.K.: It comes from French: it means sparrow sound. In Japanese chun chun. It is metaphor of my family. My family is not special, just normal. It is easy to see normal family in the world. Also, it is easy to hear sparrow sound in the world. It doesn't matter in Japan or Europe.

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