●I heard that you photographed 23 people working in the Kabutocho area for “KABUTOCHO FLOWER WEEK” around the theme of ‘gratitude’ and with all participants photographed holding mimosa flowers—how did you find the experience?
I’ve visited the Kabutocho area in Nihonbashi only a few times for meetings, so I’m not a regular visitor to the area. But this time I had the opportunity to photograph 23 stores in Kabutocho and meet the faces behind each store—I got to see the interaction between shop owners and their customers, listen to the conversations that take place, and be a part of the daily interactions that take place in this town. It gave me a glimpse of the daily life here and helped me to realize that it truly is the individuals that make a community—I really fell in love with this town. The theme of the shoot was ‘gratitude’. Each participant I photographed, also wrote a short message of expression, and I hoped that each photo and message would be seen by the other people that make up this town.


●I just had the opportunity to see your solo exhibition “Dear My Brother” which is being held at AA gallery on the basement floor of Keshiki. “Smashed windowpanes, knives stuck in the walls, the silent dining table, the fear of not being able to tell anyone. My origins were all in the house.” The exhibition started with these emotionally-charged words, yet when you enter the gallery the walls are lined with portraits of people taken on the streets, and the theme of the exhibition is solely about your brother.
Yes, the exhibition is based on my relationship with my brother. I’ve always found my brother to be a bit scary, and this was an attempt to learn more about him. So I went out on the street and started listening to other people’s stories and that’s what eventually led to this exhibition.


●It was the relationship with your brother that led you to own a camera?
In terms of continuing to take pictures, yes. When I was 20, I picked up a camera and started taking photos of people on the street. But, it was a senior who was two years older than me at school who first inspired me to take up photography. We were good friends and would hang out frequently and talk about lots of different things. One day he said to me, “You should try and talk to strangers every day!” So, for about two years between the ages of 18 and 20, I went out on the streets almost every day and talked to all different kinds of people. At that time I had an account on Tumblr, so I would record the interviews and upload them to my account. Within the first six months, I had over 600 memos on my page!

●That’s a lot of activity! What kind of people were you reaching out to at the time?
I would talk to people who would act purely on intuition because approaching people completely out of the blue can be a bit confronting! At first, it was difficult to get people to even stop once I approached them, so I would try other ways to break the ice, like holding up a binder with a question written on it, or wrapping a fake armband around my arm and pretending to be a reporter. But in the end, people became even more suspicious of me! Then, by chance, my earphones broke, so I went to an electronics retail store in Kobe. The camera section was right next to the audio section and I thought, “This is it!” So, I bought a camera right then and there and went back out onto the streets.

●You chose the camera to use as a tool for communication!
That’s right! But in my spare time, I was playing lots of soccer, so I had no idea about cameras. Even though I didn’t know how to use it properly, I imagined that if I had a camera, people would ask me if I wanted to take a picture of them. I felt that it was easier to get close to strangers because the expectation of what I was doing was more obvious. But I was an amateur, so whilst I would spend the time to set up the camera, I would listen to people’s stories as I got ready to take their photos.


●The camera was initially a tool for talking, but when did you become serious about photography?
One day, I was approached by a newspaper reporter in Kobe who wanted to write an article about what I had been doing. The reporter asked me, “Kato, how would you like to try and do this sort of work overseas?” I asked him what he meant, and he told me about a program run by the “Ministry of Education, Culture, Sports, Science, and Technology” called “Tobitate Ryugaku Japan”— a program that supports students who want to travel abroad but need financial support. I had only had my camera for about a year, but I worked really hard and prepared, and eventually, I was chosen for the program!

●That’s amazing! So you traveled overseas to study photography? Which country did you go to?
For about a year and a half, starting at the age of 21, I attended a photography school in Vancouver, Canada. Since I was a student, I had been studying English a lot, with the desire to one day get away from my older brother, and I felt that my wish had finally come true.

●How did your photography change when you started attending that university?
Up until then, I didn’t even understand what it meant to point a camera at people. Even though I was taking the time to talk to my subjects, I would simply just snap the shutter. But come to think of it, that was a pretty rude attitude. If you look at the photos in this exhibition, you can see that the subjects are facing us, the viewer. I shot them all on film and used only one frame for each subject. Before I took their picture, I would ask them to take their time and tell a personal story. I’m grateful for the time they gave me, and I want to return that respect to them as well. I think that was the moment I changed my approach to photography, and I think it’s the same approach I take today.

●The act of pointing a camera at someone is also a peek into their personality, and I think that act itself requires respect for the subject. There is a famous German biologist who proposes this concept of ‘umwelt’—that our world is made up of countless overlapping environments. In other words, there are as many subjectivities and values as there are people, and there is a world that only they can see and a reality that they cannot sense. And that is why I think that entering into that world requires more delicacy and consideration than one can imagine. Talking to a stranger is a confrontation and inherently requires a great deal of energy.
So far, the camera has made me face people, but as I did so, I became angry at myself—I would put myself down, give myself a hard time, or even second-guess the value of what I was doing. But when I talked to people walking on the street or even people sitting next to me on the train, I realized that there were as many different problems and ways of thinking as there were people, and that while I had my own problems, the love my parents had given me and the different perspectives I had gained through conversations with people I met on the street made me realize that, in the end, I was facing up to myself. I think it also led me to face myself in the end.

●To know the person in front of you, you have to respect them and open your heart to them and that is what allows you to know yourself. It’s a very important attitude, isn’t it? How did you find your life in Vancouver?
I was full of energy and spent most of my days trying hard to learn photography. However, classes were of course taught in English, so at first, I couldn’t keep up at all, which was frustrating. But I used that frustration as a springboard to stand on the street and take portrait photographs, just as I had done when I was in Kobe, and I realized that photography can act as a common language. Even if you don’t know the words or concepts in a spoken language, there are things that can be conveyed through photography—yet, at the same time, I think it was also an important process to help me realize the power of words. I gradually mastered English by listening to my interview recordings over and over again and writing notes.


●Whether in Kobe or Vancouver, you always moved forward by confronting people you met on the street. Through this process, did your impression of your brother change at all?
I think it was not so much that my impression of my brother changed, but that I changed. I used to have really negative thoughts toward my brother, and I’m sure that feeling was mutual. However, it was a great pleasure for me to see my negative relationship with my brother in the exhibition and to see the expressions on the visitors’ faces as they experienced a more positive transformation than I had expected. The negative was sublimated into a positive.

●There was an energy in viewing the exhibition through large photographs like these, and at the same time, I could feel the power of the written word. Recently, I feel that we’ve become accustomed to photos and text through social media, but I think I rediscovered something through your exhibition, something that was missing. Above all, I was taught the importance of facing people. What kind of people would you like to see visiting your exhibition?
I would like people who are struggling right now and people who are trying their best to live their lives to see my works and hold my books in their hands. I would be happy if they could face the exhibition with their unique situations and emotions. A mother with two sons came to see my exhibition and told me how she was feeling. So, even if I don’t know what kind of situation she is in, I hope that by expanding her personal world with photographs and words, there will be a moment when I can synchronize with the feelings and circumstances of each individual who sees my work, even if just a little.
On the other hand, this exhibition alone cannot represent the purpose of the photographs I have been taking. The reason I meet people on the street is to have a one-on-one relationship with them and to share with them the photos I have taken of them and the words they have said to me, along with my appreciation for them. So, after the shoot, I send the photographs and the interview to the subject, and only then is the project complete. So a book or an exhibition is not the original purpose of the project, but rather an extension of it.


●Do you think you will continue to shoot on the street as part of your life’s work?
My brother is the reason I picked up a camera, and I believe that this exhibition has put that to rest. Now that my relationship with my brother has been restored, the feeling that drove me to photography no longer exists, and I don’t think I will ever go back to it. So, I think that my motivation for photography lies elsewhere. I am beginning to think that the passion I had for one subject, people, can now be redirected toward another subject.


●So, where do you think this exhibition will lead you to?
Three years have passed since I started working as a freelance photographer and the line between taking photographs for work and photographing people on the street as a passion is gradually disappearing—I hope to bring this blurring of the lines into my work in the future. People have always had and will always have great significance to me, and I will continue to sincerely deal with my subjects without being bound by location or language. However, whether the subject is replaced by an object or an event, I think the key will be the connections I can find with the subject. For example, if the subject is food, I won’t just take pictures of the food on the plate, rather I will imagine what kind of person and what kind of thoughts went into the preparation of the food by approaching the personal aspects of that person, and by looking through the viewfinder as if I were photographing a person. Only then will I be able to take pictures with compassion. I believe that by looking through the viewfinder as if you were photographing a person, you will be able to take thoughtful photographs. And that’s exactly how I approached the photography for this year’s “KABUTOCHO FLOWER WEEK”.