盃の市で目にするような100年前の誰かのポートレイト写真が魅力的であるいちばんの理由は(これまで重々語られている通り)写体がすでにこの世にいないことだ。だとしたら、私が撮った写真も半ば自動的にその魅力を帯びていくのだろうか。そこに写っているものを超えて、ロラン・パルトの言葉を借りるならば「手に貸えないもの」(ロラン・バルト『明るい部屋 写真についての書」花輪光訳、みすず書房)たちが熱していくこともあるだろうか。


One hundred years from now, the people captured in my photographs will no longer exist. Nor will I.
The strength of photographs--especially those which feature human beings-resides in its capacity to grasp what is impalpable; a dimly felt emotion, the narratives that tell about what might have been, and often a nostalgic yearning to leave your own trace.
When I’m looking for those intangible objects through my camera, I sometimes get awe-stricken, sensing that I am reaching something spiritual. Such a cinematic aspect of photography has long inspired me, but I admit that photography doesn’t transform such untouchable objects into items within our grasp.
To prove their material existence had simply been out of my photographic scope.
At a flea market, you encounter a portrait of someone who lived one hundred years ago. It fascinates you because most likely, the person in the image no longer exists. If so, will my photographs gain the same kind of allure as time goes by? Will there be a time when my photographs cease to be the mere visual reports of particular moments, and achieve a certain kind of life of their own? I wonder, will my photographs get the chance to grow and mature, like we human beings, so that ultimately, they come to capture “the Intractable,” to use Roland Barthes’s phrase?
This collection reveals my personal experimentation that grapples with the longevity of my images.
Will a person living in a faraway future sense something meaningful through my images?
How will I ever know?

translated by Kumiko Kobayashi