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Masanori Kito entered a book of snapshots that reach right to the heart of their subjects.
He has said that ordering his photos is a way of amusing himself.
We asked him about the hidden intent in his work and his life with photography.

A year of taking a photo every day

-Is it true that you took up photography while in university?

Yes, I was in Sendai at the time. I joined the university’s photography club and learned all sorts of things especially developing B&W images. I was able to use the adjacent darkroom as much as I liked, so I spent a lot of nights developing film and prints while listening to CDs on a boombox. Long ago, I was obsessed with shooting things like deserted streets or smudges on walls, but more recently I’ve opened up to the outside. Now I want to shoot everything.

-You finished university and moved to Tokyo last year. Did you not think about pursuing a regular career?

I never saw myself as suited to the whole career-hunting scene. I decided to come to Tokyo because I wanted to continue my photography. I had started shooting in color in my fourth year at university. And, in Tokyo I could rent a developing lab.

-What did your parents say about your move to Tokyo?

About three months after I graduated, I went home and told them for the first time that I wanted to do photography. My parents said; “Well, if that’s what you want to do, get on with it.” Nevertheless, starting a new life in Tokyo meant all kinds of pressures, and photography sort of lost its priority. The next time I went home that summer, when my mother met me at the train station, she exclaimed: “You don’t have a camera with you.” Actually I did have a camera in my bag, but the way she said it brought me out in a cold sweat.

- In a way, it was a test of your resolve.

It made me question what I was doing. I decided from that point on I would go out and shoot every day. Even if I only took one shot a day, at the end of the year I would have taken 365 shots. At any rate, I decided at the very least to take a photo every single day.

I’m always thinking, “come on, something happen”

-A lot of your photos have the subject smack dab in the middle.

I don’t think about the composition or decide on what to take: I just simply shoot. That’s why whenever I can, I shoot straight on with the subject right in the middle.

-Minoru Shimizu pointed to the influence of Takuma Nakahira in your work. Was there anyone who influenced you to choose the way you photograph?

I liked Masafumi Sanai, but there’s no way I can take the same kind of photos as him. I can only do what I am capable of. I often remember Nakahira’s tanuki photos. I’ve seen them before.

-So do these photos represent what you wanted to take?

No, because in the end, I can only do what I’m capable of—for better or for worse. When I’m out taking photos, I’m always thinking; “come on, something happen.” Something startling. Instants like that rarely happen, and I often miss them, so I only get two or three frames a day. The photo of the daikon in the book was taken in Nerima at a farmer’s stand beside a field. I had wanted to photograph a kitchen knife and there it was. But, the knife alone was too small and insignificant. So, I shot the knife with the daikon beside it, because the daikon struck my fancy at the moment.

-The photos in your work are powerful. The foreign tourist holding a camera is dressed in interesting clothes.

I shot that at the Shibuya crossing. The parka stood out from far away. The photo beside it is a Mercedes-Benz symbol. A foreign make and a foreign person.

-There’s a deliberate connection in how the photos are ordered.

That’s a way of amusing myself. For example, I thought that the photo of the mottled black and white cat up a tree and the photo of the patrol car were similar, so I showed them to a friend and asked; “what do you notice in these photos?” My friend said; “a rescue, maybe?” I realized that my friend’s conclusion was a result of putting the photos side by side. So, I decided to continue to arrange my photos like that because the response was interesting. I put the photo of the car beside the photo of the dentist’s sign because the window glistening with melted snow-water looked like a tooth to me.

-You are more sensitive to reactions, like the reflection of light, than the objects themselves.

I definitely enjoy shooting in good weather. On a really clear day, I might take as many as eight shots, but partway through I tell myself “you’re just shooting on inertia.” Then I’ll cool off. Though I really want to shoot like 200 photos a day.

-The final picture has quite a different impression from the others, with a crowd of people seemingly hauling nets on a beach.

I want to take people, but I don’t know anyone in Tokyo, so I’m left with taking snapshots. Occasionally, I put out a call and have people for a shoot. The final photo shows people pulling in seine nets, but the previous two photos were of a curtain. I put this photo last because it felt like the curtain represents an ending and this photo implies a new beginning.

-There are nine works in your exhibition. How did you choose them?

I chose the ones that felt to be the most pure and pleasing. I decided to give up looking for connections between photos this time.