Journal

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Norwegian Wood

Norwegian Wood is a novel written by Murakami Haruki. The novel was released in 1987 and made it’s author a superstar among Japanese youth. The novel is a nostalgic story of loss and sexuality, and also about the late 60’s Tokyo, student protests and college life. And the name of the novel is borrowed from the Beatles song.

I was thrilled when I first heard that the movie was made Tran Anh Hung. I have always been big fan of his films such as The Scent of Green Papaya and Vertical Ray of the Sun. I’ve felt that Tran Anh Hung is realizing the visual culture of his home country, the colors and tone, there’s something very genuine and true about it; I imagine that’s how life in Vietnam looks like.

In that sense Norwegian Wood felt oddly a bit like Vietnamese film for me, although the environment and the context was of course Japanese.

The movie was very precise to the novel and the director didn’t take many liberations. The ones he decided to take only made the film more whole.

I was a bit afraid the movie would be a hollow trunk like Jun Ichikawa’s movie version of Tony Takitani. And honestly, I’m happy that Ichikawa wasn’t directing. It is clear that Tran Anh Hung was perfect man for the job.

Clearly he has worked very hard to make everything as true to it’s location as possible. The research alone must have required significant effort.

I imagine the movie itself will split audience in half which is expected and natural. And those who have read the novel are likely to enjoy it more.  Haruki Murakami is somehow all over the place in this film, there’s a lot of Beatles and the actress Reika Kirishima actually performs the song in the movie with her guitar. I was also delighted that Haruomi Hosono made appearance in the movie as the record shop owner.

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Substance, Wanted

JPG MAG link

The bird asks the frog,

what do you know about flying,

about the way how wind can hurt?

This is for the toad that we remember,

when our webbed feet bleed

for the person who locked his door

with his empty words in North Point

For the hope that exists in the world of no hope,

I say no more

until my son meets his frog

 

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Leica M8 Seduction

Leica’s M8 used to be a camera that I never really had interest to. Crop sensor, infrared issues (requiring filter) you know, it was Leica’s first attempt to make a digital camera and I read many negative reviews about it.

I just thought that I would rather go for M6 and get a full frame camera via 35mm film and be happy for the rest of my life.

But now, since M8’s price came down (in fact you can get used M8 with around same cost as Fujifilm X-PRO) I find myself attracted to this camera. M8 is less than half the price of M9, and still it is a real rangefinder Leica, and accepts all the great optics.

The shortcomings of the M8, such as poor JPG’s, requirement of infrared filter, and the crop sensor, doesn’t weight so much in my scale. For me I care much more about the spirit of rangefinder focusing, feeling connected to the scene you’re shooting.. and of course, the culture of manual photography which is so genuinely embraced by Leica.

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You've Made it This Far

Getting tired is natural. We work hard to make something what we strongly believe in, and our energy drains out during the process.

When I was playing in a band in Tokyo, I often experienced this quite painful emptiness after the stage. I didn’t really know what to do the next day when I woke up. I could still hear the music in my mind, but the people before me had disappeared somewhere. Food had lost it’s taste and all I wanted to do was to return back to the stage. Play one more song and hang out more with my bandmates.

I put myself to it so much, I really loved to play for audience with my band members. It was great! And I suppose after the live, I always felt I had done something what I needed to do. Kind of burned myself away a bit, like a candle.

Doing my own photo shoot with a model in some location, somehow reminds me of that time in those smoky small live houses in Koenji. I still get same feeling of painful emptiness when the job is done; when the works are finally out of my hands. There’s really nothing you can do. You’ve put yourself to it, and you’ve got to release it; set it free.

It’s like giving a painful birth to a child, only to watch the child to mature and leave you alone. I’m talking about that kind of emptiness.

But what I notice now, after all these years, is that it does get easier every time.

If you are professional of your craft, you have to earn your living by what you do. You know how it goes and you will be empty at times but you learn how to ignore that feeling, and keep doing your job. Because your income depends on it.

Like in life, we shouldn’t ignore the emotions that arise, but still we must keep them in check somehow, because there are practical things we have to take care of.

Buddhist detachment might help in this regard. If we get distance, we can act more professionally. Doing something emotionally powerful will always bring up emotions in us, like it or not, and we must deal with them, but if we learn how to take distance to ourselves (sort of stepping away from the equation) it gets a whole a lot easier.

When it gets really hard, when under the weather, I tell myself: “Jaakko, you’ve made it this far! Look at yourself!”. Indeed, I’ve made this far. This is who I am and this is what I am. I was born this way, and I’ve chosen this path.

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Handful of Dust

I went to the house of my wife’s grandfather. He passed away already many years ago. The house has received order to be demolished and is waiting for it’s actual destruction which will take place in few months.

The place was eerie as you might imagine old house to be. The air smelled of mold and layer of dust covered everything. There were bunch of comic books, toys, kendo sword, dress.. Fascinating, very visual history. Perfect place to shoot Japanese horror movie..

I was able to take some photos the house of people I never had chance to know.

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Yokohama

I remember when I first came to Minato Mirai in Yokohama, about exactly ten years ago. For me that time, it was futuristic city, like you know, city from Blade Runner, but it had something that I felt Tokyo lacked.

Fresh air, upward space, or something like that.

I was really moved that time about the beauty of the Queen’s towers and sure the Landmark Tower, you know I really liked how you could see the sea and the urban landscape at the same time. It was something I had never experienced.

Now, ten years after, as I look at the landscape in my mind.. I feel it’s definably the place where I want to be, you know, like I feel I belong there. Most of my friends are there, and with them I feel I am becoming part of the image really quickly and naturally.

I suppose I’ve always liked this type of urban landscape, you know I was born in completely different surroundings, in rural area of Finland and I never knew how sea smells or sounds like. It was only when I came to Japan first time, I started to be fascinated about sea.

I love sea and all empty and dark things, you know, horizontal lines and something tiny among the waves, for me it’s so beautiful, like those things are always there, even though the sea might shift and change constantly.

 

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Poem

I am a child of two mothers,
a child of two continents

My elliptical path,
My seasonal shift

I circle alone,
together

The hope,
that exists in the world of no hope

I greet you,
my fellow satellite

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In transition

I have arrived to my wife’s hometown in Mie. I was planning to stay in Yokohama until end of this week, because of Yokohama Art Department event which was organized by my friends in Art Mania.

But since my wife is pregnant and the baby seems to come earlier than expected, I decided I must return here as soon as possible.

Island Mother shooting and the Monday’s session after it, with my friend Saeko Nakahara, was very fascinating and emotionally moving process.

I feel humbled by it, and you know, being such a crybaby, I couldn’t stop my tears. The theme itself is about life and death, and one’s passing through life.  Saeko was totally amazing. I have never met anyone so talented in my life so far.

Perhaps it wouldn’t be wrong to say that part of me was burned away in the process of making these images.

And I’m saved by it.

The images are completed now, and there’s nothing more to add.

I hope I will continue to have the necessary courage to fight and challenge myself. Because it’s my job to take a photo.