The story of Daido Moriyama’s photobook “1980s Remnants” begins in 1987, when Moriyama handed Michitaka Ota (of photobook publisher Sokyusha) a box filled with one thousand of his photographs. Some photos from the box were published in “A Journey to Nakaji” later that year and, more than ten years later, in the 1999 photobook “Dreams of Water.” Moriyama insisted that Ota keep the box of photographs, and so they stayed in a corner of Ota’s apartment. A recent conversation brought the box back to mind, and finally, writes Ota, “I was pleased to find that I now can give them some shape.”
Even though the more than 30 years that have passed between the creation of these photographs and their eventual publication becomes part of their charm and magic, these 1980s Moriyama snapshots – of streets and textures and the beauty of urban chaos and, somewhat atypically, plants and floral wildlife – remain fascinating in their own right.
“In the old times, before the capital changed from Kyoto to Tokyo, cherry trees were considered a frightful sight. No one thought them a sign of beauty. […] Without a trace of human life beneath it, a cherry in full bloom becomes a fearful sight.”
The fifth instalment of Match & Company’s “Japanese Photography x Contemporary Literature” series. In “Daido Moriyama: Ango”, Daido Moriyama’s frightening photographs of cherry trees are set to Ango Sakaguchi’s famous short-story “In the Forest, Beneath Cherries in Full Bloom”.
The “demonic beauty of the cherry blossoms” of Moriyama and Sakaguchi turn into a jet-black photobook of bottomless loneliness, emptiness and dangerous seduction.
With the publication of his serialized photo-essay Hikari to Kage (Light and Shadow) in the first issues of the magazine, Shashin Jidai, Daido Moriyama announced his return to photography after nearly a decade. Moriyama had been mired in an acute creative slump from his mid thirties, since the publication of his seminal book, Shashin yo Sayonara (Farewell Photography) in 1972. Unable to take nearly any photos for a prolonged period, he turned to illicit drugs, ultimately wasting away to little more than 40 kgs before he hit physical and emotional rock bottom. Lured back by Akira Hasegawa, Shashin Jidai’s editor, he was invited to contribute photographs for each issue. This began a long relationship between Moriyama and Shashin Jidai. He would ultimately make a total of six serialized essays that appeared through sixty-three issues (in every issue but one) until its’ demise in April 1988. During this period Moriyama worked almost exclusively for Shasin Jidai and was given a free hand to explore and experiment and in the process evolved a new aesthetic that still informs his photography today. Tragically, more than eighty percent of his negatives were lost from this pivotal body of work. In Daido Moriyama Shashin Jidai 1981–1988 the complete run of essays or chapters that appeared concurrently in Shashin Jidai are brought together for the first time, representing the only way to appreciate them without acquiring the original magazines themselves. Each complete essay is reproduced alongside a selected portfolio of images and written essays by Moriyama from each chapter as they appeared in the original magazines. Text appears in Japanese with English translation.
In over 400 pages it provides access to a pivotal period in the evolution of one of the most revered and influential photographers of the twentieth century, as yet undocumented in book-form.
Accompanying there is a short essay “The Photo Age: Daido Moriyama and Shashin Jidai” by Kotaro Iizawa. Translation throughout by Daniel González, Essays by Daido Moriyama, Text by Kotaro Iizawa, Design by Geoff Han, Editing by David Strettell and Miwa Susuda.
"In Spring, I am going to go to Hawaii to photograph. I'm so excited, and a little anxious - I've never been there before. The idea of Hawaii has been stuck in my mind for many, many years, just as the idea of a place. I try to imagine what it's like, and I have a certain image of it - a nostalgic place, a place where time has stopped. When I get there, I'll probably find out it's nothing like that. . . ." - Daido Moriyama, 2004
Three years and five trips later, Daido Moriyama created a book of photographs of what he did find in Hawaii.
"When I arrived in Sapporo in June, it was so cold that the light purple clusters of lilac in the alleys and under the eaves were trembling in the cold air. While other parts of Japan had entered the rainy season, here the wind just kept blowing for days on end, and the streets and avenues were tinted white instead. Keeping the promise that I had firmly made to myself, I grabbed my camera every morning and took to the streets, with the regularity of an office worker, and no intention to meet any friend or acquaintance. I spent most of these three months on my own. Other than the very basic daily conversations – buying a ticket at the station, ordering a coffee, or making the occasional phone call – I was just keeping my mouth shut. I soon ran out of sleeping pills, and as I didn’t drink, all I could do was spend the long nights reading books. The daily photo shootings weren’t really fruitful, and there I was, sitting in my freezing apartment, at my wit’s end with my progressing mix of depersonalization, aphasia and insomnia. So as, in other words, my lifestyle was from the very onset based on that fawning, illusional idea of escape and isolation, my only justification that was taking photographs, was easily reversed from the true intention that it used to be, to mere pretense. Those days of feeling guilty went by one after another, and before the summer ended, I decided to go back to Tokyo. At the end of the day, I haven’t made any progress whatsoever, but what I do have, as a proof of my endless walks to miscellaneous places, are 250 used rolls of film."
– from the afterword by Daido Moriyama
Signed and numbered edition of 600 copies, with a silkscreen canvas cover.
The very first photobook by legendary Japanese photographer Daido Moriyama, “Japan: A Photo Theater,” available again in a renewed edition. Originally published in 1968 – the year which also saw the launch of the influential Provoke magazine – the book already demonstrates Moriyama’s trademark visual style. On invitation of Japanese writer Shuji Terayama, Moriyama began photographing members of a traveling theater group, adding shots of dwarf show dancers, strip clubs, street performers, fetuses in formaldehyde containers and other motifs.
Please note that this Japanese edition does not feature the book with English translations of Shuji Terayama’s and Daido Moriyama’s writings. The book itself differs in minor details from the English version (e.g., a cover instead of box, different publisher logos, list of photographs contained within the book itself rather than in the English-language booklet).
“Light and Shadow,” Daido Moriyama’s classic from 1982, finally available again in a new edition by Bookshop M & Getsuyousha.
The photobook marked Moriyama’s return to photography, ten years after his previous photobook publication and three years after he basically stopped photographing altogether. “Light and Shadow” also marks an evolution in Moriyama’s photography, with the moodiness of earlier works replaced by a clearer focus on objects and the early bure-boke having evolved into a richer, high-contrast style.
The English version features a hardcover reprint of Moriyama’s 1982 photobook as well as a booklet with detailed information to each photograph, exclusive commentary by Daido Moriyama, and an interview originally published in the September 1981 issue of the magazine “Shashin Jidai” (all in English translation).
Signed by Daido Moriyama. English Edition of 1000 copies.
"She called herself Shinobu in Shinjuku, Hiroko in Minami, Naomi in Nishiki, Yukari in Nakasu. Rumor has it that she is now living quietly in Ishikari where she was born, under the name she was given by her parents. Momoe. I still think of her every once in a while.
This is a profile of her that lives on in my memory."
- Daido Moriyama
Momoe is the extra issue of a four books new series by Daido Moriyama 'Woman in the Night'.
Edition of 350 signed and numbered copies with a silkscreen printed canvas cover.
'There was a woman called Naomi in the Nishiki area in Nagoya. She was a person who loved cars. I often took her for a drive. It’s already three years since she disappeared from Nishiki. Even now, I still think of her sometimes. This is a profile of her as she appears in my memory.'
Naomi is the third volume of a four books new series by Daido Moriyama 'Woman in the Night'.
Silkscreen canvas covered signed and numbered edition of 350 copies only.
After Dazai and Daido Moriyama: Terayama, the third entry in Match & Company’s literary collaboration series with Daido Moriyama. Photographs by Daido Moriyama are paired with Oda Sakunosuke’s 1946 short-story “At the Horse Races” to pay tribute to one of Japan’s literary treasures.
“For this project, I paired photos of Osaka, taken by Daido Moriyama, with the short story “At the Horse Races”, written by Sakunosuke Oda in 1946, and edited them into this book. […] I told Moriyama I wanted to create a book that, by pairing them together, would give an entirely new layer of expression to both his photographs of Osaka and the words of Sakunosuke Oda.
My trick to let two artists, each with a strong personality, meet within the space of a book to stimulate each other, has worked.”
It was a long, long time ago. Each of them was sleeping in a liquid inside a small flask about the size of a human thumb. All of them had oyster-colored skins, and were shaped like shrimps.
In a glass case at the end of a row of shelves in a dark corridor of an obstetrics and gynecology hospital near the Tanzawa mountains in Kanagawa, countless fetuses in formaldehyde were quietly leaning on each other as they looked out into the sun-drenched courtyard.
In addition to the items published in Gendai-no-me, this first copy book dedicated to this particular series features mostly shots that haven’t been shown before.
Edition of 600 signed and numbered copies with a silkscreen canvas cover.
"Even though it hadn’t been all that long since I last went on a prowl in Shinjuku, when I grabbed my camera and took to the streets of Kabukicho on that day, for some reason the scenery evoked in me a certain sense of nostalgia. Nothing was supposed to change in the neighborhood in less than half a year, but I just couldn’t deny that rather strange feeling. Anyway, I did go out there again with the desire to shoot photographs.
It all started sixty years ago, when I arrived in Tokyo with my Canon 4Sb camera, and took my first picture on the square in front of Shinjuku Station’s east exit. Since that day, I have been taking an endless chain of photograph of that place called “Shinjuku,” which became for myself an irreplaceable “hometown of photography,” and an inescapable ”metropolis of photography.” It is a very real and actual, wild and erotic, and at once also a quite charming kind of labyrinth. As described above, the pictures in this volume of Record were all shot in the Kabukicho/Shinjuku area. When I was a young dude living in Osaka, above all else, “Tokyo” was for me all about Ginza, Yurakucho and Akasaka. That’s because those were the places that appeared in popular songs of the day, and the images those songs had engraved on my mind were not images of Shinjuku or Shibuya. However, shortly after I eventually moved to Tokyo, I got totally immersed in all things Kabukicho/Shinjuku without turning a hair. It was my own nature and temperament that made me a hopeless captive who involuntarily surrendered to the fascination of Shinjuku. That was the time when the songs I warbled away were naturally replaced, one by one, with the likes of “Shinjuku no onna” and “Shinjuku blues”...
After all, that place called Shinjuku is essentially my second hometown, and in my book, it is in fact the hometown of photography itself."
On the occasion of the publication of volume 50 of the Record journal, my works were shown in a long-term slide show event at the AKIO NAGASAWA Gallery in Ginza, from late May until early October. I visited the venue several times since the start of this program, placed myself in the middle of the 5,000 miscellaneous images that were projected onto every inch of the gallery’s walls by seven projectors, and enjoyed the strange experience of standing there, isolated from daily life, and being hit from all sides by the showers of light. The images that were covering the surrounding walls entirely, were quite certainly slides of my own photographs, but due to the complex, constantly changing entanglement of space and time, the pictures that I looked at nimbly slipped out of my field of vision, and left me feel transformed into a sleepwalker who wanders through far and unknown landscapes.
The strange and chaotic images from Tokyo, Marrakech and New York that were perpetually projected onto the walls, had disconnected from the one who shot them, to pursue the anonymous notion that is supposedly inherent in a photograph. It had become totally irrelevant that I was the one who made them, and before I knew it, the projected images transformed into the very “spirit” that is photography itself. Witnessing this slide show of my own works was an experience that, even at this point in time, taught me a whole new way of responding to them.
Upon opening the gallery’s door and stepping inside, the visitor was instantly greeted by a curious kind of soundscape.That unfathomable mix of sounds was composed of all sorts of tones that were recorded at various places in the streets, and layered on top of each other. Including the occasional flirtatious moan of a woman, it was a mysterious noise that gradually percolated into the listener’s mind.
"Last fall, the photographer William Klein passed away in Paris.
An exhibition of my own and William Klein’s works attracted a large audience when it was shown at London’s Tate Modern back in 2012. Klein’s part of the exhibition was quite a diverse affair, as it featured next to photographs also paintings and films among others. Obviously, it was the highlight of the show. For my own part, with the exception of a few color prints, I mostly covered the walls with enlarged black-and-white photos. It was about 60 years ago, that I was completely knocked down by the shocking experience that was browsing through the photo book NEW YORK, which inspired me to launch my own life and work as a photographer. With that in mind, when it came to doing that two-man show in London, flooding the place with black-and-white shots was all that I could possibly do in response to Klein’s work.
When he showed up for our first meeting in years, a big man in a big wheelchair, it just so happened naturally that we shook hands. That one moment was enough to fill my heart with emotions, and make me feel like shouting out that, for me, the exhibition had already concluded, even though it had in fact just opened. (...)"
Yesterday, my daughter drove me and my wife to Kami-Ooka, a town south of Yokohama. We had already been there two weeks earlier, and as I had no business accompanying the ladies on their shopping spree, I spent a little over an hour walking around with my camera, in the area around the station that is crowded with people and tall buildings. Quite naturally, the tour also led me to a place that I always visit, and that I have decided to refer to as my “oasis number three.” On one side of a 50-meter stretch of a narrow alley between the back of a store and the Keihin Kyuko line, there are several juice stands, and sandwiched between them, a number of ashtrays are admirably standing and waiting for smokers like myself. There’s always a bunch of folks, guys and ladies alike, puffing away on their cigarettes as if there was no tomorrow. One of the bars has some concrete steps in front of it that are just right for sitting on, and in that “oasis,” I like to spend some quality time smoking while observing the neighborhood through my pocket camera, and taking the occasional snapshot. There are quite a lot of ladies, and also many blue-collar type guys, and they all come together here for a chat and a puff.
Back home, I found myself alone in the kitchen at night, and while having another cigarette or two, I reviewed the results of my own shooting spree in the alleys of Kami-Ooka. “I guess two or three of them will be alright for Record,” I concluded while thinking about the next issue. I remembered also photographing a long line of people and wondered what they were queueing up for, while lighting another cigarette. Another day in the life of the photographer that I am was casually drawing to an end. And tomorrow, I thought, I’m going to take a stroll around Ofuna.
(Number one and two of my own private oases are places that I carry in my heart, and I won’t tell anyone about them, unless they’re heavy smokers just like me!)
New"Even now that it’s the end of August, it’s still quite hot outside.
Meanwhile, I continue to grab my little camera and walk out into the streets every day to take some snapshots. It’s never more than three, four hours these days, but I just don’t feel well if I don’t get this daily work done. After all, this is what a photographer does... About once a week, I go to my office in Yoyogi to take care of some business or other, on all other days I usually take the Yokosuka Line or a bus from the nearest station, get off at some point, and then just walk around while mixing with the crowd and taking pictures. On some days it may be 60 or 70, on others no more than 20 – always only so much that I feel satisfied.
With that being said, I can’t deny a certain feeling that the images of the Shinjuku cityscape are gradually fading from my mind. And in my case, this means something’s wrong. Yokosuka, Kamakura and Totsuka are just around the corner now, and they’re all crowded with people. What more could I ask for? However at the end of the day, what remains is me and my desire to “return to Shinjuku.” Indeed, I need to be there and stand on a corner in Kabukicho with my camera, at least once a week. Piece of cake you might say. I could just make a quick trip and it’s all good.
As soon as it gets a little bit cooler in the fall, I’m definitely going to dive into the hustle and bustle of Shinjuku again, and shoot to my heart’s content. Then I will also make the first issue of Record in a while that will be all about Shinjuku. How’s that sound, Mr. Nagasawa?"
“Shinobu” the first volume of a four books new series by Daido Moriyama: “Woman in the Night”.
There was a woman called Shinobu in Shinjuku’s red light quarter. She was a person who loved flowers. It’s already ten years since I last saw her. Even now, I still think of her sometimes. This is a profile of her as she appears in my memory.
Edition of 350 signed and numbered copies with a silk-screen canvas cover.
Please note: Due to the material used on the cover and pages being smaller than the cover, corners may present as being bent (but are not). See example photo.
This is the definitive edition of my "Tales of Tono"
– Daido Moriyama
After its initial publication by Asahi Sonorama in 1976, "TALES of TONO" was reissued in different versions by Kobunsha in 2007, and by Tate Publishing in 2012. However, these were paperback, pocket size editions, which I found somewhat unsatisfactory with regard to enjoying the pictures. For this new, re-edited version, we used larger format, and included 49 previously unpublished photographs that were not included in the first edition.
– from the afterword by Akio Nagasawa
Signed and numbered edition of 600 copies, with a silkscreen-canvas cover.
The book before you contains five of the seventeen essays that make up Life on the Wrong Side of Town: Sports Edition, which orginally appeared as a series in the magazine Mondai Shosetsu ("Problem Novels", published by Tokuma Shoten) in 1975 and was then published as a single volume by Shinyosha in 1982, the year before Terayama passed away. By adding Moriyama-san's photographs to the text we have constructed a new edition.
While putting this project together, I went back to Terayama's words as expressed in many literary forms - haiku, tanka, poetry, ruminations, essays, novels, scripts, theatrical productions and dramas. The enormous volume and quality of his output was overwhelming, but I eventually settled on this work, Life on the Wrong Side of Town: Sports Edition. The reason lay in this passage form the Afterword.
"This book is a kind of rear window view of the life of what we call sportsmen. From the rear window you can see the river. Sometimes you can see people saying goodbye. But however miserable the view is, you have to keep the rear window open."
-Excerpt from Satoshi Machiguchi's afterword The Spell Moves On, published in Daido Moriyama: Terayama (2015)
Yukari is the fourth volume of a four books new series by Daido Moriyama 'Woman in the Night'.
"The woman who called herself Shinobu in Shinjuku, Hiroko in Minami, and Naomi in Nishiki, went by the name of Yukari in the Nakasu district of Fukuoka. “Someday, I’m gonna live in New York” – that’s what she always said. It’ll soon be two years since she disappeared from Nakasu. Maybe she fulfilled her dream and lives in New York these days. Even now, I still think of her sometimes. This is a profile of her as she appears in my memory, although she may be in New York now."
- Daido Moriyama
Edition of 350 signed and numbered copies with silkscreen printed canvas cover.