For me, my concern was to give meaning.
From May 10th to July 29th, Fondation HCB will be showing the
emblematic series of Yutaka Takanashi, one of the great master of
Japanese photography.
Yutaka Takanashi has always photographed the city – close up,
far away, even very far away, from a moving car – sometimes
on the lookout for an image charged with poetry, sometimes
‘picking up’ a scrap of reality. As he has often
repeated, these two approaches confront one another in his work:
poetry/realism, mirror/window, visible/invisible. The important thing
for him is to make his way over the terrain, to ‘walk on the
ground’ in order to make ‘anonymous
pictures’.
Takanashi was a founding member of the well-known collective Provoke in
1968 – the group briefly published the photography magazine
of the same name – but he did not yield to the somewhat
romantic indulgence of the offbeat blurry image. The provocative aspect
of this short-lived phenomenon hid a profound reaction to the
photography establishment. In this sense, Provoke was in tune with the
protest movements which inflamed the world in the late 1960s.
Toshi-e (Towards the city), his first major book in black and white,
marked the end of Provoke, but also the photographer’s
distanced stance, for he managed to assert his own style by not giving
in to the siren songs of the moment, but rather, absorbing them. His
two-level approach to the city, from a distance in the beginning, and
then very close up, with human figures, was extremely original: at the
time, Tokyo was in the throes of an industrial transformation which
changed frame of reference and undermined certainties. Takanashi set
out in search of the invisible, a different poetics in unlikely urban
spaces. He rejected narrative, revolted against the tautological aspect
of photography, which he found boring, but when he grew tired of this
‘hunt’ for the invisible, ultimately decided to
abandon his Leica for a large-format camera and colour negatives.
Machi (Town), his second major book, is the very opposite of Toshi-e.
‘With Machi, I tried to get rid of being poetic’,
explains the photographer, who was able to find a form of modernity in
this calm, well-thought-out approach to the city from within (closer to
the images of an Atget, for example) in the mid-1970s. The sense of
detail, of life momentarily brought to a standstill, is also quite
present in the series of Shinjuku bars at closing time. Time is now
suspended, unlike the ‘moving’ roadside images from
the 1960s.
This group of pictures offers a different vision, a new photographic
vocabulary proper to Takanashi, who readily speaks of the text of the
images, of the connections between them. He has always taken great care
with the making of his books, which remain the expression of a unique,
singular voice committed to giving meaning.
We are very proud to have been given the privilege of exhibiting this
set of works for the first time in Paris. Such an undertaking would
have been impossible without the determined efforts of the Galerie
Priska Pasquer, which has promoted Japanese photography, and especially
the work of Takanashi, for many years. We are also extremely grateful
to Éditions Toluca for its participation in this project
through the production of part of the exhibition and the publication of
the catalogue. And our warm thanks go to Yutaka Takanashi for honouring
us with the confidence which was essential for the realisation of this
project.
The catalogue of the exhibition, published by Toluca Editions, includes
an introduction by Agnès Sire and an essay by Ferdinand
Brüggemann. 192pages, 38€