Hospitalization being a turning point

I capture the fleeting, subtle expressions men reveal in a single instant. The time for shooting and the number of shots are kept to a minimum, leaving no chance for the subject to craft their expressions or poses. It’s been exactly 10 years since I began photographing these raw, unguarded moments of men, and the “Faces in the Moment” exhibition has now reached its 10th installment. The turning point was my hospitalization 10 years ago. Although it lasted about 15 days, it was my first experience of this kind, and since I was working at the peak of my career, it was a difficult time. It became a moment for me to reflect on how I wanted to live my life moving forward.

After rethinking how I wanted to live, I realized that I couldn’t continue the way things were, so I decided to leave my ¥700,000-a-month apartment and move into a small one-room apartment. That’s where I started organizing my photos. I didn’t want to leave behind a mountain of unnecessary photos when I died, so I burned everything that wasn’t needed. But among them were some photos I simply couldn’t throw away—portraits of men like actor Toshiyuki Nishida and judoka (practitioner of judo) Hidehiko Yoshida. My usual work often involved photographing women, but as I began reflecting on what it means to continue working for as long as I have life, I also started thinking about knowing when to step back. That’s when I felt I needed to change my subjects.

It was then that I decided to take “private photos” of the men who had supported me for so many years. Before I knew it, I had photographed about 60 men. That’s what led to the first “Faces in the Moment” exhibition. Photographing men gives me a sense of energy and vitality, and as I continued, 10 years passed before I knew it. It may sound strange to call it a purpose in life, but I want to continue until I’ve photographed 1,000 men.

It’s the accumulation of moments. One encounter leads to another.

As I’ve continued the “Faces in the Moment” project for 10 years, I’ve had the chance to meet a wide variety of people. From prime ministers to the captain of the Antarctic research ship “Soya,” and even comedians. Just like how dots connect to form a line, one encounter leads to another. It’s all determined by a single moment, a single photograph. That’s why I always feel nervous when I shoot. No matter who I’m photographing, my attitude never changes. Whether the person is famous or unknown, I’m always nervous. But most of the time, the person who will be my subject is smiling.

I’ve now photographed about 700 people for “Faces in the Moment,” and almost all of them are smiling. It seems that, when they watch how I move, even the most difficult individuals can’t help but laugh. Of course, there are some who, because they’re always smiling, make an effort not to smile for the shoot, but most end up with a smile on their face.

During this time, I’ve also been dealing with cancer. I don’t see myself as fighting it, but after taking medication for 10 years and living with the side effects, it’s been quite challenging. Lately, I feel like both I and my doctor have gotten a bit complacent about the illness… So, I decided to refocus and participated in a lecture on cancer this past February, hosted by NHK (Japan Broadcasting Corporation). I believe it’s meaningful to communicate what I think about my illness and treatment through a lecture.

Like practicing “one good deed a day,” I want to continue photographing.

Words are unnecessary for my photos. We meet for a moment and part just as quickly. When that single photograph reaches the subject, I hope it reminds them of me. I’m quite impatient. For instance, if someone tells me that a flower bud will bloom in an hour when the sun comes out, I can’t wait. Even if it stays a bud, that’s fine with me. I place importance on capturing exactly what I see through the camera in that moment. Perhaps that’s because I face each subject one-on-one. My theme is to enter spaces where no one else can and capture that fleeting moment. In a way, this might be considered artistic.

I’ve lived my life as a cameraman, earning money by photographing. My definition of a cameraman is someone who goes on location and takes photos as a job. A photographer, on the other hand, takes photos not as a job, but with the expectation that the photos might sell afterward. For example, it’s like waking up early on a sunny day to go take pictures just because the conditions are good. In the photography world, there are far more photographers than cameramen. To stay a cameraman, you need an office, assistants, and the ability to immediately go shoot when a request comes in. While it’s easy to change the title from cameraman to photographer, I feel there’s too much I’d have to give up in the process.

In a way, “Faces in the Moment” might have been my way of balancing being both a cameraman and a photographer. This project is unpaid—there’s no compensation, and I don’t expect any. Yet each time I shoot, I genuinely feel glad that I did. Reaching the 10-year milestone is deeply moving for me. Like “one good deed a day,” I want to continue taking photos. As I carry on with “Faces in the Moment,” I’d also like to reflect on what my final project will be as an individual.

February 2018, at Shin Yamagishi Photography Office.Translated by ILI Inc.