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A photograph records a certain person on a certain day, at a certain time, in a certain place.

A few years later, or a few decades, it faithfully conveys to the viewer the moment in which it was taken, exactly as it was. The more casual, the more unplanned the photo, the more vividly it shows the situation at that moment,raw and unvarnished, even with the passing of time.

Why is this? To my mind, photographs have an innate capacity to be open in all directions.

But the more dominant the thought processes of the person using a photograph, or the person who took it, or the power of their purpose or intention, the more likely that capacity will only unfurl in a limited direction.

So when looking at a photo, I try to truly open my eyes and take in the world in a fashion more free, and unfettered. (p.5)

Bizarrely, what I remember most vividly about my travels,

may be the things I never got to photograph.

I suppose the fact that I was unable to leave something in a photo, unable to capture it,

is automatically etched on my eyeballs and in my mind.

Most of my travels fade into the mist of the past, and gradually disappear.

Transmitting one's personal memories adequately to people is difficult.

How beautiful a particular scene was, how harsh.

But the thing about photos is, all you need to do is look, and that moment comes flooding back as if it were yesterday.

Which is why I travel with a miraculous device that enables that very thing: the camera.(p.244)

 

 

Yoshihiko Ueda


In the early summer of 2025, the photographer, Yoshihiko Ueda, will present a retrospective solo exhibition covering the entirety of his photographic journey. The stage for the exhibition is an art museum located somewhat remotely in Hayama between the sea and mountains. The town blessed with an abundant natural setting is, in fact, where the photographer lives and the location that he chooses for portrait photography and filming.

In the process of fine-tuning the content of this solo exhibition, the photographer mentioned several times how much he liked the art museum and the exhibition space. As someone who works at the art museum, this made me feel a little awkward and so I had trouble processing what he said. But after repeatedly looking over the enormous number of his photographs and pondering over his writings, I'm beginning to feel as if his photographic works and his philosophy taught me what is meant by the "distance" of the art museum and the town it is located in. And I can say now, at the risk of sounding somewhat presumptuous, that this art museum is an absolutely suitable venue for taking a retrospective look at the photographer's representative works.

One reason I came to realize this was when the photographer told me he wanted to name the exhibition "Itsumo Sekai ha Tooku, (means "The World is Always Distant," in Japanese)" Initially, it seemed poetic, as if excerpted from a passage in his writings. It seemed to differ in tone from the titles given to the large number of photobooks and exhibitions he had presented in the past. I also sensed a somewhat somber undertone in the word "distance." Now, however, it seems to me that this word is likely pointing to beliefs expressed in his photographs and the true nature of photography that deserve our renewed consideration.

On reflection, photographs are always accompanied by "distance." It is fair to say that it is this distance itself that establish- es photography as a form of expression. Unlike the artist who places paint on the canvas with a brush or the sculptor who carves wood with a chisel, direct physical interaction with the work is not an absolute requirement for artistic expression by the photographer. Distance always exists between the lens and the film, the subject and the camera (the photographer)--it is the structure of this form of expression that cannot be breached. The photograph is the trace that appears left by light that crosses the distance to shine on the photographic film the instant the photographer releases the shutter. [...]

Let me add here that "distance" in this photographer's works serves to create space that arouses emotions of aspiration and longing but also moderation and restraint in us. An example is the sense of being "far away" that he says rose to mind whenever he was confronted with landscapes in China during the twenty years beginning in 1990 when he worked on commercial photography (1990-2011, pp.571 etc) for Suntory oolong tea. Those scenes, perfected in unique photographs that take on a touch of nostalgia and universality made possible by the inherent nature of the camera as a medium, ideal distance in relation to the subject that the photographer refined over time, and the pervading atmosphere all finely integrated are a beautiful example.

The numerous portrait photographs are another remarkable part of the photographer's work. These include a large number of photographs, often seen in his advertising photography, in which persons are carefully positioned within aesthetically refined compositions and backgrounds. But there are also close-up portraits in his photograph collection Por- trait (1999-2002, pp.422-427, 446-451) and photographs of well-known persons taken in his early period (pp.643-656, 666-669, 674-677) in which the face does not entirely fit in the frame. These portraits, rather than conveying intimacy, are permeated with a sense of tension-they are close up and yet far away. [...]

I also recall a different approach to "distance" in addition to what is described above, in the series, Mäter and Study (2021, pp.43-63), in which the focus is blurred as if to dissolve the contour of the subject. The title given to the series means mother or source in Latin and the subjects chosen are such things as the sea, rivers, and the nude human body. It is an exploratory effort that diverges from his earlier works, Quinault (1991, pp.585-596)-photographs of a sacred rainforest in the entirety of its awesomely subtle shades of color and Materia (2011, pp.219-229), both of which also explore the origins of life. Ueda has presented many photographs that are focused throughout the entire image almost to the point of deep focus. However, he says that he chose to photograph this series in shallow focus with the intention of expressing landscapes in memory that sleep far beyond by blurring the reality that meets the eye. What is attempted here is a transcendence of the physical distance from the subject in front of the eye to instead reveal the psychological and temporal distance the farthest limit of what is possible for photographic expression. But the colors and tonal gradation in the photographs are even softer a delicacy that carries on and further develops Pictorialism for the contemporary age is indicative of the photographer's deep interest in the history of photography.

There is one photobook created by Ueda (and his family) that has a sense of distance unlike in any other of his works. At Home (1993-2008, pp.309-313, 370-373, 399-409, 432-441, 505-509) is a collection of photographs carefully selected from among thousands taken of his family over a period of 13 years, assembled with text from his wife's diary woven in.

This collection is distinct from his other works because these were private photographs that had not previously been made public and also because many were taken not with a large format camera but with 35 mm film cameras such as the Ricoh GRI and a Leica M4 that was a present from his wife. [...]

Ueda often uses the word "miracle" when speaking of his works simply from his awareness that perfection of the expressive medium that is the photograph is not achieved solely by his intentions and actions alone, but is also largely influenced by factors "outside" of himself. The spontaneity and singularity inherent to the photograph itself and perhaps also the "distance" it possesses may account for this in part. [...]

Yes, "From the Hip," and what follows are more than six hundred photographs chosen with great care for inclusion in the photobook. Or the seaside museum where they are displayed. I sincerely hope that many people will come to enjoy this quiet town within its beautiful natural surroundings together with the landscapes and scenes that photographer Yoshihiko Ueda has gazed on from a distance.

 

 

Excerpts from the text "On Yoshihiko Ueda's "Distance":

Before Viewing Photographs of What is Far Away from Places of Distance"

Yuichiroh Takashima(Chief Curator, The Museum of Modern Art, Kamakura & Hayama)