
Visualization of the Invisible Situations and People
Marina Amada (MA): What was your first encounter or experience of photography?
Kazuma Obara (KO) : The first thing that got me interested was a photograph of Iraq during the war, which I saw the Iraq War after 9/11. I was 16 years old at that time. The photographs at that time were not only warzone photos, but also photos of babies born without brains called anencephaly caused by the radioactivity from the depleted uranium ammunitions in Iraq. At that time, Japan was one of the first countries to support the United States in this war, but it was difficult to see what was actually being done in the daily news in Japan. Then I happened to see this photo in a photo book at the public library, and I was very shocked by it. It was a critical moment in which I realized that photography is a way to teach us the reality of the very war that we participate in. This inspired me to take up photography.
Marina Amada (MA): What was your first encounter or experience of photography?
Kazuma Obara (KO) : The first thing that got me interested was a photograph of Iraq during the war, which I saw the Iraq War after 9/11. I was 16 years old at that time. The photographs at that time were not only warzone photos, but also photos of babies born without brains called anencephaly caused by the radioactivity from the depleted uranium ammunitions in Iraq. At that time, Japan was one of the first countries to support the United States in this war, but it was difficult to see what was actually being done in the daily news in Japan. Then I happened to see this photo in a photo book at the public library, and I was very shocked by it. It was a critical moment in which I realized that photography is a way to teach us the reality of the very war that we participate in. This inspired me to take up photography.
Marina Amada (MA): What was your first encounter or experience of photography?
Kazuma Obara (KO) : The first thing that got me interested was a photograph of Iraq during the war, which I saw the Iraq War after 9/11. I was 16 years old at that time. The photographs at that time were not only warzone photos, but also photos of babies born without brains called anencephaly caused by the radioactivity from the depleted uranium ammunitions in Iraq. At that time, Japan was one of the first countries to support the United States in this war, but it was difficult to see what was actually being done in the daily news in Japan. Then I happened to see this photo in a photo book at the public library, and I was very shocked by it. It was a critical moment in which I realized that photography is a way to teach us the reality of the very war that we participate in. This inspired me to take up photography.
MA: I see. This experience sparked an interest in photojournalism for you. In fact, you became the first photojournalist to reveal inside of the Fukushima Daiichi Power Plant when the public did not have access to much information in the early aftermath of 2011. But over time, you began to tell stories that were rarely published in the news media, and you began to trace the stories of people who were missing in the archived history. What made you change your focus and style?
KO : The biggest reason for this was my encounter with the plant workers at the Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear Power Plant, whose photographs are also in the exhibition “Reflection – 11/3/11” at The Rencontres d’Arles (The International Photography Festival in Arles) this year. I started going into the disaster affected area a few days after the earthquake to take photographs for the news, but it was not until I met a nuclear power plant worker that I realized there are photographs that are never published in the media. Their presence and story were missing in the news. Exposing their images could potentially do damages to them and cause social stigma. I never encountered such subject until then. But I knew I had to think of a way to record the presence of such people. I think there are many different types of photojournalism, but the big thing is that I gradually lost faith in a single photograph to tell the “truth”. The more I went to the site, the more complex and multifaceted the reality appeared in front of me. And in a situation where there were things that become invisible by photographing the subject, I needed to create something that evoke reflections in people when looking at the subject matter. After all, the scenery didn’t change much in Fukushima, but people’s mental states and things like that seem to change more and more. In a situation where simply taking pictures of the scenery doesn’t convey anything, I sought a slightly different direction from so-called photojournalism.
MA: Can you talk about a specific work in which you tried things differently to express the situation in Fukushima?
KO : In my work, “Waves and Home,” I tried a different approach in capturing the sea at Fukushima. The Impression I had of the sea of Fukushima at the beginning of the nuclear accident in 2011 was that it was the contaminated sea. But as I went to the sea and met the locals, especially the local surfers in this case, I realized that there were people who saw a completely different sea. In Fukushima, there is a long history, a culture and even certain language that have been developed among the surfers. For example, their words to describe the waves are very rich. Each surfing spot, even only 10 meters apart from one another, has a different name, and different memories for the surfers. There was a strong sense of community in the sea of Fukushima. The nuclear accident and contamination of their sea had broken down this connection for them, and this had a big psychological and social impact on them. Having met these surfers, I did not want to create the same image of the contaminated sea which had already been represented many times. Instead, I wanted to create an image of the sea in a very multifaceted way –images that allowed you to imagine how the people who live there have built their lives through the sea, and what kind of influence the contaminated sea has continued to have on them. At first, I tried to shoot in the water while surfing with them. But this exercise showed me that the sea seen in the eyes of an experienced surfer of 20, 30, or 40 years, is very different from the sea that is seen by me who was just beginning to surf. When I thought about what could possibly express the sea that these surfers felt, I wondered if it would work if I visualized the waves. Instead of using a camera, I started to experiment with cyanotype. I applied the chemicals on the cotton cloth and took it to the sea, and I immersed it in the sea. The color rapidly changed. The result of the changed cloth was not telling much. But what was interesting was a series of chemical reaction I saw on the cloth. Normally, when you put cyanotype on film negatives, it simply leaves marks in blue, but what I saw was far beyond my expectation – changing its colors between, green, blue, white, yellow, and then dark blue. It was probably due to various elements in the sea such as iron. But it was beautiful. It felt like a way to capture the sea in a way that was different from my own vision, as if it was created autonomously. In some ways, the phenomenon of different images and colors unfolding on the cyanotype also reflected how I was hearing the voices of the people and observing the changes that they were going through.
MA: “Waves and Homes” is a video work. Can you talk about how this was produced from the Cyanotype?
KO : With cyanotypes, I tried with different mediums and ended up selecting a specific washi paper to be pasted on a wood plank, because this medium captured movement of waves through changing colors in more distinct ways and in much slower speed. It is a three-person job. Two people would take a 2 x 1 meter size treated washi on a wood plank and go into the ocean to hit the waves. On the beach, we set the camera and light pointing down from the above using a tripod and an arm, and from there, I shoot every five seconds for about an hour and a half in time-lapse with GFX 50R.
I used this camera because it was important for me to capture the sensitive changes in high resolution. If you take a video with the GFX50R, you can make a time-lapse video with the 8K resolution. To express the richness of the ocean, vague images would not work. I also wanted to properly and beautifully record the intricate beauty of the washi itself. So I wanted to capture the particle level. The video is made from 8 hundreds shots that were taken. By turning photographs into a single video, and by dealing with its delicate depictions, I was able to capture a situation where mysterious images are unfolding on paper.
MA: So, the main reason for choosing GFX50R for this project was the high resolution and its function.
KO : Also, it is relatively a compact camera for a medium format digital camera, and it is cool. I think it’s very important to have a good feeling when you look through the viewfinder and a confident feeling when you hold it. It felt right. It’s the same with performance, but there’s something about it that feels right to me, whether it’s the size, the texture, or the way it’s operated.
MA: What is it that you want to take next ?
KO : Since last year, I have been working on a project with the Fujifilm’s GFX Challenge Grant. The project is about documenting Hansen disease’s patients in Okinawa. What I deeply care about is the people who have been rendered invisible in the contemporary society as well as in the histories. As in the case of the workers at the Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear Power Plant, there are people who have recovered from Hansen disease and their families in Okinawa, who are still very afraid of discrimination.
MA: As last question, how do you think the medium of photography is changing or will change in the future? What kind of possibilities do we have ?
KO : Through my current project of Hansen disease’s patients, I am again convinced that we will not lose the value of photography as a medium; as a print medium, or a photo book. There are people who refuse to be recorded in photographs, and the more I think about their position in the society, paradoxically, the photographs’ ability to leave a record feels like a real strength –not to be used it as some kind of violent device, but to record the existence of those people. With digital data, we still do not know who and how these records will be archived, protected and retrieved over time, and we have to pay more attention about how to deal with it in many levels. Printed photography and photobook/album remains over the generations even in the personal level. They remain in physical existence. It is amazing.
MA: I agree about the power of printed photography, but I thought it was very interesting point because, paradoxically, paper is very ephemeral material as well.
KO : That’s true. If they burn, they will disappear, and even if they don’t the color will change, and so on. It’s very interesting that even though it is an ephemeral existence that decays, it can be left on paper in this way and contribute as the power of such an existence.
Interviewed by Marina Amada June, 2024
Related publication : Atelier EXB Réplique 11/03/11 – Des photographes japonais face au cataclysm
Related exhibition: Arles les Rencontres de la Photographie, REFLECTION – 11/03/11
JAPANESE PHOTOGRAPHERS FACING THE CATACLYSM