Collecting the Japanese Photobook Ryuichi Kaneko interviewed by Ivan Vartanian

Ryuichi Kaneko is a leading historian of Japanese photobooks, and over the course of four

decades he has amassed a formidable collection of twenty thousand volumes, including

magazines and catalogues. In his role as curator at the Tokyo Metropolitan Museum of

Photography, from its nascency up until this year, he oversaw the development of the

institution’s public collection. As a scholar, Kaneko has been an important figure in

supporting and extending scholarship surrounding Japanese photography and photobooks.

Ivan Vartanian, who guest edited the latest issue of The PhotoBook Review, spoke to him

about how he became one of the first and most enduring champions of the Japanese

photobook, the evolution of the form, and what makes a book irresistible. This article also

appeared in Issue 6 of the Aperture Photography App: click here to read more and download

the app.

Ivan Vartanian: You began collecting books at a time when no one else had interest in

Japanese photobooks. How and why did you start?

Ryuichi Kaneko: It started in high school and university, when I was taking photographs and

realized I possessed absolutely no talent for it. But I loved photography. My father was an

amateur photographer, and after the war he worked as an editor at a fashion magazine,

which influenced me too, with all the exposure to material it provided. Since I couldn’t make

images, I thought intensely about what I could do that would connect me with the world of

photography, and started to just consume and absorb whatever materials I could get my

hands on. Photobooks were a vehicle for that.

The first Japanese photobook I ever purchased was Otoko to onna [Man and Woman, 1961]

by Eikoh Hosoe. And the first book I purchased by a foreign photographer, in 1967 or ’68,

was William Klein’s New York [1956]. Around that time, 1967 or ’68, I started to become

acquainted with a lot of photographers, and by 1974 or ’75 I started to buy books actively.

Kazuhiko Motomura is a publisher and editor who made Robert Frank’s The Lines of My

Hand[1972] with Yugensha. When I ordered a copy of the book, Motomura delivered it by

hand to my door. And from there started a long friendship and a sort of mentorship. He

introduced me to a slew of photographers, bookstores, and bookstore owners, particularly in

the Kanda area of Tokyo. After that, Kanda became my library, where books and magazines

could be bought. My passion became my mission.

And it was just about this time that independent galleries were operating in Tokyo. To the

photographers in these places— which were hangouts as much as they were noncommercial

exhibition spaces—I became known as the guy who had all these photobooks from Japan and

the West. It was an opportunity, or excuse, if you like, to talk to photographers and be

connected to the medium that I loved so much. For example, at Photo Gallery Prism, I met

photographers Hitoshi Tsukiji, Kineo Kuwabara, and Hiroshi Yamazaki. At Image Shop

Camp, I met Keizo Kitajima. These photographers were of the same generation as me. That

was an important point because they had an antiestablishment way of thinking.

IV: So what was the experience of buying photobooks at that time?

RK: It wasn’t simple. There weren’t a lot of photobooks by Japanese photographers. And of

those that were in existence, only a handful were worth buying, like Shomei Tomatsu’s Taiyo

no empitsu [The pencil of the sun, 1975] or Kikuji Kawada’s Sacré Atavism [1971]. But there

were several gems from the West: Lee Friedlander’s Photographs [1978], Garry Winogrand,

Nathan Lyons, and Bruce Davidson, as well as Aperture’s Paul Strand and Walker Evans

retrospectives. There was also Dorothy Norman’s book on Stieglitz, An American Seer [1973],

which I went around and showed to everyone, and it changed our impression of Stieglitz. It

was this process that led me to become interested in the history of photography, too.

IV: After the mid-1970s, with the proliferation of photobooks, were you able to keep up?

RK: I bought pretty much ninety percent of everything that was published then. I don’t think

you can imagine this: I would go to Kanda twice a week, and then Waseda, to visit used

bookstores. And of course Shinjuku’s Kinokuniya bookstore. Unlike now, when there is a

surplus of books, at that time there weren’t many Japanese photobooks to buy. How could I

use the ¥10,000 I had in my hand? There were days when I couldn’t find a single book to buy

and would go home feeling dejected.

IV: Were there any other people buying photobooks at that time?

RK: No! There was no one else.

IV: So how did this culture of collecting books grow in Japan?

RK: It’s thanks to me and Kotaro Iizawa. He, too, was studying Japanese photo history, and

when we eventually met we realized we were both doing pretty much the same thing at the

same time. Iizawa often said that we needed to change the culture from the enjoyment of

taking photographs to the enjoyment of looking at photographs. That was in the first half of

the 1980s, just before I started working at the Tokyo Metropolitan Museum of Photography.

But the culture of actually enjoying reading Japanese photobooks didn’t evolve until after the

1990s. The 1980s were about foreign photobooks, but I was a cheerleader for Japanese

photobooks.

IV: Were there any dramatic shifts in the form of Japanese photobooks between the 1960s

and the ’80s?

RK: No, except for the dramatic improvements in printing technique. It was something that

became apparent later. There was gravure printing in the beginning, after the war, and then

after the 1970s it was all offset printing. But there still wasn’t this sense that a photobook was

a function of its printing. That would be entirely the influence of the American photobook,

which was recognized in Japan in the 1980s.

IV: Japanese photobooks have special value as the vehicles by which a lot of Japanese

photography has been seen by the West. Do you think some distortion has resulted from this,

by not seeing the prints themselves and only seeing the work in the form of photobooks?

RK: In Japan the photobook has had special significance for photographers from the 1930s

onward; from the 1950s to the 1970s, there was a widely accepted understanding that there

were certain modes of expression that could only be achieved in the form of a photobook.

The print was forgotten to a certain degree. And when it came to academic matters of

collecting, which is what I did as a curator for the Tokyo Metropolitan Museum of

Photography, the first selection of images was often based on what was in photobooks. Quite

frankly, many Japanese photographers are quite unconcerned with how work is shown in a

gallery setting because the photobook is already out in the world and circulating among

people.

It is precisely because of this imbalance that Japanese photobooks have their unique

sensibility and can achieve new levels of expression. A great example of this would be the

1963 version of Eikoh Hosoe’s Barakei, which was printed in gravure. You could cut those

pages out of the book and frame them. One shot of Yukio Mishima staring into the camera at

close range has not only become a symbol of that body of work, it has become iconic. So

when the prints from that series are sold, that image gets prominence over the other images,

and the book’s context and complexity get lost.

IV: So how about contemporary photobooks? Are you actively collecting those too?

RK: [laughs] To be totally frank, it’s no different from the situation I was facing back in the

1970s. It’s very difficult to find a book I feel I must own. There are a lot of books out there

now, which is like a dream come true, but sadly only a few make it into my collection. There

are few books that communicate an innate need to exist, or to even be a photobook to begin

with. Then there are the books that you just take one look at and know, “I must own this.”

That’s what I’m looking for when I visit bookstores.

Translation from Japanese by Ivan Vartanian.

Ivan Vartanian is a Tokyo-based independent curator and author as well as the founder of

the imprint Goliga.

Ryuichi Kaneko is a critic, historian, and collector of photobooks. He has authored or

contributed to numerous publications, including Independent Photographers in Japan

1976–83 (Tokyo Shoseki, 1989),The History of Japanese Photography (Yale University Press

and Museum of Fine Arts, Houston, 2003), Japanese Photobooks of

the 1960s and ’70s (Aperture, 2009), and Japan’s Modern Divide (J. Paul Getty Museum)

The PhotoBook Review: Collecting the Japanese Photobook, Part Two Manfred Heiting is an inveterate and encyclopedic collector of the photobook. He began his

career as a designer before gaining experience and acclaim as a curator, editor, scholar, and

connoisseur of the genre. In 2013, the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston, added his library of

books to their extensive set of four thousand prints from his collection, acquired in 2002 and

2004. This addition will include more than twenty-five thousand titles from around the

world, including Germany, the Soviet Union, France, the United States, the Czech Republic,

the Netherlands, and roughly two thousand volumes from Japan. As a committed outsider

seeking insight via the Japanese photobook, Heiting’s interest in the form operates

complementarily to historian Ryuichi Kaneko’s inside track [as discussed in App Issue 9]. In

addition to the forthcoming volume Soviet Photo Books 1912–1941 (Steidl, 2015), Heiting is

also at work on the book The Japanese Photo Book: 1912–1980. The following conversation

with Lesley A. Martin, creative director of Aperture Foundation and publisher of The

PhotoBook Review, appeared inThe PhotoBook Review 008.

This article originally appeared in Issue 10 of the Aperture Photography App.

Lesley A. Martin: How and when did you first become interested in the Japanese photobook

as a particular area of collecting?

Manfred Heiting: I started collecting Japanese photography in 1972 after a visit to Tokyo to

meet with Goro Kuramochi, a curator and editor who later became a friend. He introduced

me to a few photographers: Ikko Narahara, Eikoh Hosoe (who helped me a lot), Teiko

Shiotani, Shoji Ueda, and others. I knew at that time that vintage prints were not part of the

Japanese narrative, and during that visit I only bought a few contemporary prints from those

photographers I met. I also acquired some books as part of my reference library, useful to

understanding the work of the photographers; they were not seen as “collectible” at that

time. It was only at the beginning of the 1990s that my interest in [photographers’] books

became more focused. I see 1912 as a decisive starting point for my collection of Japanese

books, based on a photobook by Kazuma Ogawa that documents the Meiji emperor’s funeral

that year (which traditionally took place at night), Photographic Album of the Imperial

Funeral Ceremonies. Floodlights had not been invented yet—just the magnesium flash for

close range. The Japanese government purchased all the magnesium they could get and

placed it alongside the road so that the long, nighttime procession could be photographed.

The images are quite impressive, and I think that is a fitting beginning.

For now, however, I’ve stopped looking at books produced after the 1980s. I call most

Japanese photobooks produced after that period “Eastern art for Western taste.” Before the

1980s (and in particular before the 1970s), publishing photobooks was an elaborate and

expensive undertaking, and there was only a small market for them. In other words: before a

publisher would take the risk, a book had to offer a very good value proposition, featuring the

most acclaimed work from well-known photographers, and be well-designed and technically

well-executed to ensure that the book would be a commercial success.

In the 1980s, more museums began to show photography, and more publishers saw the

photobook as a new and attractive market. More buyers gave the publishers confidence to

invest in photobooks, and English became the accepted language of choice for many of those

publications. And when the museums rediscovered photography, the most common type of

photobook became the catalogue, designed to replicate the individual print on the gallery or

museum wall. You saw less diversity of printing and materials, less design, less

individualistic layouts—just more and more color surrounded by more and more white

paper. In my opinion, these are less “book” than just “printed, colorful paper.” This was the

situation in the U.S. and Europe in the 1980s, which soon arrived in Japan and took away the

most admired—and different—concepts of the Japanese photobooks of the 1960s and 1970s,

with their unique design and photographic languages, and their high-quality printing.

Photographers and publishers both had their eyes on the international market and adapted

to our tastes in order to sell them to us. There are exceptions of course—but I shy away from

most of the contemporary Japanese books.

Kazuma Ogawa, Photographic Album of the Imperial Funeral Ceremonies, Top: standard

edition; bottom: palace edition. Privately published, 1912

LAM: What were your criteria for buying books when you started to collect in this area? Has

that criteria changed over time?

MH: The criteria has not changed much—I am always interested in “complete-as-published”

volumes—but the understanding and knowledge of what that means regarding Japanese

photobooks has increased, and with the network of trusted local advisors, I now know more

of what I am still missing.

LAM: Beyond its completeness and condition, what is it you look for when you buy a book,

especially a Japanese photobook?

Are you interested in the design, in the quality of the pictures? Perhaps the real question: do

you need to fall in love with a book in order to buy it?

MH: Of course, all of the above. As I have explained before: I am talking about the printed

B-O-O-K (I have collected original photographic prints before and have closed that

chapter). Therefore, I am interested in a “book” with all its unique parts and attributes: for

its particular photographic language and authorship, its design, layout, size, printing, and

binding quality—and that’s for each period and country. If I like a photographer’s work or

think that the subject and style warrants “preserving,” I look for every book from a

photographer, from every period and most subjects—provided that the book and all its

attributes are of a high quality. I think this is a different way of falling in love with a book,

but also an admiration for the complete result intended by the makers.

LAM: Are there any particular themes or motifs that you have found of interest or that

especially define the Japanese photobook?

MH: Yes. Without being dogmatic, I categorize twentieth-century

Japanese photobooks in four distinct periods.

The pictorial period: This includes publications from amateur photo clubs (which have

played an important role in Japan). Also, pictorialism extended longer in Japan than in

Europe and the U.S., lasting until the beginning of the 1930s.

The avant-garde: Including the surrealist advertising and Bauhaus-influenced photobooks

and advertising of the 1930s (these are not easy to find).

Propaganda: Many books and magazines were published by the imperial government, the

military, and the occupying authorities in Manchuria and elsewhere. These materials are

quite substantial and more “impressive” than European fascist-propaganda photobooks—but

fall a bit short of the creativity

seen in Soviet propaganda photobooks.

The 1960s and 1970s: This is the best-known and most widely admired period of Japanese

photography and photobook making. During this period, books were it! And the quality of

the photography, aesthetics, and production (mostly in sheet-fed gravure) are unmatched in

other parts of our photobook culture.

LAM: The canon of the photobook has begun to solidify in the past ten years. Are there any

Japanese photobooks that you feel have been left out of the surveys or best-of listings?

MH: Best-of listings are very bad for collectors who want to do more than just invest in the

top/best/rarest of books. The market aspect has certainly helped to focus on a particular

period or culture and has brought a lot to light, but other than “the top ten”—or, in

particular, prewar photobooks—we are still mostly in the dark, or the books are unrecorded.

The Japanese protest photobook is certainly on everyone’s radar, but that does not mean that

we know much of what we are after. Robert Hughes, the most celebrated art critic of the later

twentieth century,

famously stated, “What strip mining is to nature the art market has become to culture”—this

fits perfectly into our field as well.

LAM: How would you define the relationship between connoisseurship and scholarship in

your role as a collector?

MH: In my particular situation, my quest and my goal cannot be separated: I seek to

combine both connoisseurship and scholarship. I basically collect the twentieth-century

photobook (more precisely the “printed photobook,” from about 1886 until 2000). Because

of the two world wars, the twentieth century is a difficult period for the photobook—so much

was produced and so much is lost forever, including most of the subject matter, and history

needs to be preserved. I see the photobook in the twentieth century as one of the most

important mediums in our culture and of that part of history, and recording it as a very

important task for scholars, libraries, universities, museums, and collectors alike.

I also think that only a private collector is more “privileged” and can do both—if he or she is

prepared to spend the time and money to accomplish both of these tasks. At the outset, one

has to decide for whom and where the results will be made, deposited, and placed to keep it

all together. In my case, I decided that some time ago. No one can take things with them.

The ultimate list of Japanese photography books. Not!

Books on Photography Books

In the last years the interest in Japanese photography books has jumped from non

recognition to becoming a must have not only for specialized photo book collectors. Books

which were completely unknown outside Japan except to a few well informed collectors and

researchers are now sold at high prices by rare book dealers and at auctions.1

It all began in 1999 with the exhibition catalogue “Fotografia Publica. Photography in Print

1919­1939″.

This was the first time that a publication and large scale exhibition concentrated not on

photographic prints for the wall but on the media, magazines and books, in which the

photographs were printed.But of course this was not the first time that magazines or books

were in the center of an publication/ exhibition. For example Ute Eskildsen from Museum

Folkwang, Essen, did two exhibitions catalogues on photography in German magazines of

the Weimar Republic and after 1949 already two decades ago.

“Fotografia Publica” contains one Japanese book, Kiyoishi Koishi’s: “Early Summer Nerves”,

1937 and the two most important magazines from the 1930s: “Nippon” and “Kôga”. The

magazine “Photo Times” is added as well, but even this magazine was very important for to

promote and to spread the “New Photography” (Shinkô Shashin) in Japan, its design is not

interesting at all. Additionally two photographers Masao Horino and Yasuzo Nojima are

mentioned in “Fotografia Publica” with works published in western magazines. Unfortunatley

“Fotografia Publica” misses Horino’s most praised series “The Character of Greater Tokyo”

(Dai Tokyo no Seikaku), editied and designed by Takaho Itagaki and published 1931 in

Chuokoron magazine, and “Flowing through the City – Sumida River Album” (Shutokanryu –

Sumidagawa no Album), edited and designed by Tomoyoshi Murayama. Tomoyoshi

Murayama was of vital importance for the Japanese art and photography scene. He

introduced Dada to Japan in 1923 and founded the Dada group “Mavo”. 1925 he orgainzed

a theatre where some of Japan’s first happenings and performance art took place and 1931

he brought the “seminal” travelling exhibition “Film und Foto” from Germany to Japan. The

impact of this exhibition on Modern Japanese photography was extraordinary. For example it

directly influenced a group of Japanese avant garde photographers and critics to found Kôga

magazine, published in the same year in Hanzai Kagaku magazine.

Then came Andrew Roth’s milestone publication “The Book of 101 Books. Seminal

Photographic Books of the Twentieth Century”. This book established the photography book

as a legitimate media, as an “objet d´art” itself, besides the printed photography. It lists four

Japanese books: Eikoh Hosoe, “Killed by Roses”, 1963; Kikuji Kawada, “The Map”, 1965;

Nobuyoshi Araki, “Sentimental Journey”, 1971; Daido Moriyama, “Bye Bye Photography

[Farewell Photography]”, 1972. While I agree that these books are “seminal” and that in the

1960s and 1970s epochal photographs and books were produced, its a little bit strange that

Andrew Roth only choose books published within a time frame of less of than ten years.

In 2004 two more books on photography books were published: “The Open Book. A history

of the photographic book from 1878 to the present”, by the Hasselblad Center, which added

more books from the 1960s to the 1980s. Like “The Book of 101 Books” it focuses on

Japanese photographers from the same period of time: the “Vivo” and “Provoke” era with

Domon Ken, Eikoh Hosoe, Daido Moriyama et al.

The second book published in 2004 by Martin Parr and Gerry Badger, “The Photobook: A

History. Vol. I” expands the list of Japanese books considerably. It shows Japanese books

from the 1930s to the 1990s and it has a whole chapter devoted on post­war Japanese

photography books. This book gives the most comprehensive outline of Japanese

photography books, but it also misses the more recent publications from the last decade.

But this gap will be filled soon (partly) with the second volume of “The Photobook: A History”

by Martin Parr and Gerry Badger, which will be available in a few days. This books lists

besides obviously important books like Takashi Homma, “Tokyo Suburbia”, 1998 and Rinko

Kawauchi “Utatane”, 2001, much less known books like Masafumi Sanai, “I Don’t Know”,

1998 (one of my favorite Japanese photobooks) and Kohei Yoshiyuki, “Document Park”,

1980 (a book I have never seen).

The “Ultimate” List of 54 Japanese Photography Books

My list of Japanese photography books contains all Japanese books from the above

mentioned publications (including “The Photobook: A History, vol. II”), plus three books from

the The History of Japanese Photography.

1. Kiyoishi Koishi: Early Summer Nerves, (Shoka Shinkei), 1933 2. Various Photographers: Nippon, 1937 3. Yoshio Shimozato: Genus Mesemb: Surrealist Photography Collection

(Mesemu Zoku: Chûgenjitusshugi Shashin­shu), 1940 4. Ken Domon: Hiroshima, 1958 5. Yasuhiro Ishimoto: Someday, Somewhere, (Aru Hi aru Tokoro] 1958 6. Ken Domon: The Children of Chikuho, (Chikuo no Kodomotachi) 1960 7. Shomei Tomatsu, Ken Domon: Hiroshima­Nagasaki Document, 1961 8. Eikoh Hosoe: Man and Woman, (Otoko to Onna), 1961 9. Eikoh Hosoe: Killed by Roses, (Barakei), 1963 10. Kikuji Kawada: The Map, (Chizu), 1965 11. Shomei Tomatsu: Nagasaki 11:02, 1966 12. Daido Moriyama: Japan – A Photo Theatre (Nippon Gekijo Shashincho), 1968 13. Eikoh Hosoe: Kamaitachi, 1969 14. Yasuhiro Ishimoto: Chicago, Chicago, 1969 15. Shomei Tomatsu: OO! Shinjuku, 1969 16. Koji Taki: First Abandon The World of Certainty, 1970 17. Nobuyoshi Araki: Photocopy Books, (Zerkkusu Shashincho), 1970 18. Ken Ohara: One, 1970 19. Takuma Nakahira: For a Language to Come, (Kitarubeki Kotoba no Tameni),

1970 20. Nobuyoshi Araki: Sentimental Journey, (Senchimentaru na Tabi), 1971

21. Daido Moriyama: Okinawa, 1971 22. Eikoh Hosoe: Ordeal by Roses Re­edited, (Barakei Shinshuban), 1971 23. Yoshio Takase: Toilet, (Benjo), 1971 24. Nobuyoshi Araki, Yoshio Takase, Koji Yaehata, Naohosia Tabogami, Fukuo

Ikeda, Tomoko Kamiguchi: Young Ladies in Bathing Suits, (Mizugi no Yangu Redii­Tachi), 1971

25. Daido Moriyama: Farewell Photography [Bye Bye Photography], (Shashin yo Sayonara) 1972

26. Daido Moriyama: Hunter, (Karuido), 1972 27. Ihei Kimura: Pari, (Paris), 1974 28. Daido Moriyama: Another Country in New York, (Mo Kuni New York), 1974 29. Yutaka Takanashi: Towards the City, (Toshi­e), 1974 30. Kishin Shinoyama: A Fine Day, (Hareta Hi), 1975 31. Miyako Ishiuchi: Yokosuka Story, 1979 32. Seiji Kurata: Flash Up: Street PhotoRandom Tokyo 1975­1979, 1980 33. Kohei Yoshiyuki: Document Park, (Document Kôen) 1980 34. Masahisa Fukase: Ravens, (Karasu) 1986 35. George Hashiguchi: Seventeen’s Map, (Jûnanasai no chizu), 1988 36. Nobuyoshi Araki: Tokyo Lucky Hole 1983­1985 Shinjuku Kabukicho, 1990 37. Hiroshi Sugimoto: Time Exposed, 1991 38. Keizo Kitajima: A.D. 1991, 1991 39. Nobuyoshi Araki: The Banquet, (Shokuji), 1993 40. Ryuji Miyamoto: Kobe 1995, 1995 41. Hiromix: Girls Blue, 1996 42. Tadanori Yokoo: Waterfall Rapture: Postcards of Falling Water My Addiction

My Collection, 1996 43. Hiroshi Sugimoto: Sea of Buddha, 1997 44. Hiromix: Hiromix, 1998 45. Masafumi Sanai: I Don´t Know, (Wakaranai), 1998 46. Takashi Homma: Tokyo Suburbia, 1998 47. Hiroshi Sugimoto: Theaters, 2000 48. Mika Ninagawa: Sugar and Spice, 2000 49. Yurie Nagashima: Pasttime Paradise, 2000 50. Taiji Matsue: Taiji Matsue, 2001 51. Rinko Kawauchi: Utatane, (Siesta), 2001 52. Osamu Kanemura: Spider´s Strategy, 2001 53. Daido Moriyama: ’71­NY, 2002

54. Miyako Ishiuchi: Mothers, 2002

Some Modern Photography Books not Listed

But as I said in the headline, this is not the ultimate list of Japanese photography books. The

reason is quite simple: All authors missed some “seminal” books, especially two books

published in the 1920s/30s:

– Shinzo Fukuhara: Paris et la Seine, 1922

This is an important selection of works, photographed 1913 in Paris by Shinzo Fukuhara, a

leading pictorialist artist.

Because almost all original works by Fukuhara from the 1910th and 1920s were lost during

the Great Kanto Earthquake in 1923, the photobook Paris et la Seine is the main source for

Fukuhara´s pictorialist photographs taken in Paris. The book is extremely rare and until now

I have seen reproductions from the series just once in an exhibition at the Shoto Museum of

Art in Tokyo. But a facsimile version of the book is due to be published byKokoshukankokai

in April 2007.

– Masao Horino: Camera: Eye x Steel: Composition, 1932

This book is a masterpiece of the New Vision (Shinkô Shashin) in Japan!

In 1932 Masao Horino published a monograph “Camera, Eye x Iron, Construction”

which is one of the most important works for Japanese modern photography. This

monograph consists of photographs of ships and architectures made by steel, such

as bridges tanks and towers, based on his own sense of beauty, “a beauty of

machinery,” derived directly from art critic (photo critic) Takaho Itagaki’s thought,

using, for example, close­up and looking­up. Therefore, this work can be said as

corroborated work of Horino and Itagaki. This work is as important as a monograph

“Métal” by Germaine Krull in terms of “a beauty of machinery.”

[Quote: Wikipedia]

Like “Paris et la Seine” the book “Camera: Eye x Steel: Composition” is available in a limited

edition as a facsimile reprint, too. The editors of the facsimile reprints are the photo

historians Ryuichi Kaneko, responsible for several excellent exhibitions and publications at

the Tokyo Metropolitan Museum of Photography and Kotaro Iizawa a critic and publisher,

who for example published (besides many other books on modern and contemporary

photography) a 40 vol. series on Japanese photographers.

Kaneko and Iizawa did four other facsimile reprints since last year and only “Early Summer

Nerves” was recognized in the photobook anthologies (in “Fotografia Publica” and “The

Photobook, vol. 1″).

– Kiyoishi Koishi: Early Summer Nerves, (Shoka Shinkei), 1933.

The other three books by Kaneko and Iizawa which were ignored by the books on

photobooks are:

– Ihee Kimura: Japan through a Leica, 1938

– Tampei Photography Club: Light, (Hikari), 1940

– Nakaji Yasui: The Photography Of Nakaji Yasui, 1942 (this is more a portfolio actually)

Some Contemporary Photography Books not Listed

Besides the missing Modern Photography books, some interesting photobooks from the last

decade were ignored as well. Four books come into my mind immediately:

– Miyako Ishiuchi: 1947, 1990

This is a brilliant photographed and well printed conceptual book, showing the hands and

feets of women born in 1947, the same year when Ishiuchi was born.

– Kyoichi Tsuzuki: Tokyo Style, 1993

A bestseller in Japan. A straight documentary book depicting apartments in Tokyo at the

lower end of the condo market accompanied by short notes on the tenants of the places.

This book gives for the first time a comprehensive view on the living situation and life style of

many (most?) Japanese. It’s a complete contradiction to all coffee table books showing

empty Zen­like living spaces by Tadao Ando at al..

(new version from 2003)

– Kikuji Kawada: Globe Theater, 1998

The self published book in a translucent plastic slipcase is beautifully designed and well

printed and was only published in an edition of 550 copies. I contains three series: “Los

Capriccios” (1969­1981), “The Last Cosmology” (1979­1997) and “Car Maniac” (1991­1998).

– Mika Ninagawa: Liquid Dreams, 2003

This book was published in two versions with a black and a white vinyl cover covered with

lamé. Both covers have a round image with goldfishes, which are moving slightly as your

gaze slides over the image.Mika Ninagawa has a well done homepage with her books and a

selection of images from her books. For this book Mika photographedGoldfishes in strong,

eccentric colours. The book is pure pop, and it’s art. This kind of photobook you will only find

in Japan.

PS: I am sure that others will miss other books as well, some books might be more obvious

while other books might only be known to specialists in Japan. A book which came into my

mind after I finished my post is Jun Morinaga’sRiver, its Shadow of Shadows, 1978.

Also it might be very interesting to look into the publications produced in Manchukuo.

Manchukuo was a nominally independent puppet state set up by Japan in Manchuria

(Northeastern China) which existed from 1931 to 1945. Several Japanese photographers

went there and some years ago I have seen some interestesting magazines published in

connection with this episode of Japanese imperialism…

—

Recommended books:

Ann Tucker, et al.: The History of Japanese Photography

Fotografia Publica: Photography in Print 1919­1939

Andrew Roth: The Book of 101 Books: Seminal Photographic Books of the Twentieth

Century

Martin Parr, Gerry Badger: The Photobook: A History, Vol. 1

Martin Parr, Gerry Badger: The Photobook: A History, Vol. 2

1. The latest and most spectacular rare photobook auction was a few months ago at Christie’s in London. I know it is a little bit late, but nevertheless I will write a short report about the auction results in another post – after I have received the auction catalogue which I had to buy from a auction catalogue dealer in the US, since the catalogue was sold out weeks before the auction started…. up

Related Posts

Japanese Photobooks ­ Auction Results, Christie's, May 21

The best photobook in 25 years: "Ravens" by Masahisa Fukase Focus on contemporary Japanese photography. Interview with Mariko Takeuchi, Part

II Focus on contemporary Japanese photography. Interview with Mariko Takeuchi, Part

I John Szarkowski (1925­2007) and Japanese Photography Berlin ­ Tokyo ­ Berlin? Some thoughts on the asymmetry of the relationship of

Japanese and German arts in the 20th century Miyako Ishiuchi at Venice Biennale and at Third Gallery Aya, Osaka Kikuji Kawada "Car Maniac" Yurie Nagashima at Scai the Bathhouse and Nadiff, Tokyo Kimura Ihei ­ The Man with the Camera at MOMAT Japanese photobooks at Swann auction