So I now have a blog! Hopefully, this will serve as an outlet for my thoughts on photography and visual art that I usually frantically scribble onto an old receipt and quickly lose. I want this platform to act less like that of a diary and more of a personal archive where I can collect fascinations in one place.

I am very much interested in post-war Japanese photography such as the likes of Daido Moriyama and Shomei Tomatsu, that is; I am hoping on going to see one of the masters’ works; Fukase’s ’Solitude of Ravens’ at the Michael Hoppen Gallery before it ends (on 23rd April, this year). I managed to find a rather battered edition of ’Solitude of Ravens‘ in a university library some years ago and have been since awed by Fukase’s jet-winged manifestations and the connotations they hold not just for the artist but towards the inherently animistic Japan itself.

The use of animals in symbolism is not rare with the Chinese (or Oriental) zodiac still playing a large part in the history of Japan- for instance the year of the ‘fire horse’ (1966) is a very unlucky year to be born- a curse that stays with the family so “The birth cohort of 1966 was appreciably smaller (around 25%) than those either side of it.”. (Hodge and Ogawa 2008. p. 5) This dramatic change in birthrate in a technologically advanced country is due to widespread superstition- something one may imagine a less developed or rural country to express- this possibly gives a reason or at least an insight into why people like Moriyama feel nostalgia towards a more rural life as aspects of this way of existing have carried on in at least 25% of the country even though four fifths of the country live in very populated, modern cities. The depiction of a tanuki seen in Moriyama’s Tales of Tonō sits outside some sort of shop, enticing customers in to spend money. The racoon dog known as the tanuki still plays a symbolic role in the Japan of today, featuring in films, literature, mascots and video games- most noteworthy perhaps in the well known Mario Bros game series where the character has racoon-like features and is able to shape shift, the creature is named “Tanooki”, a phonetic corruption of “tanuki”. This yokai currently exists as a reminder of a rural past; a furusato.
“In today’s Japan, the tanuki is simultaneously a real animal, a fun-loving supernatural trickster, a nostalgic icon of rural Japan, a commercial mascot, and a mutable character for creative filmic and digital experimentation.” (Foster 2014, p. 529) Therefore it is fair to say that animal symbolism is an important aspect of Japanese history, with aspects of ancient folklore surviving up to present day and therefore; animal folklore or symbolism is also part of Japan’s identity.

A notorious photographer who photographed around the same time as Moriyama called Masahisa Fukase used animal symbolism in his most well known work, “The Solitude of Ravens” to portray things that can only be explored by looking inwards at one’s self- like Moriyama, Fukase also does this by turning the camera to the urban landscape of Japan. Fukase was most well known for series of portraits showing the artist’s wife: Yoko, whom featured in a project that also took her name. Fukase’s work during his thirteen year marriage with Yoko was rather jovial, very different to other, darker work typical of the Provoke era; one would not expect a photographer similar in time period and aesthetic to Moriyama to hold an exhibition called “Play” but it was this marriage that played a central role in Fukase’s photographic work. This all changed in 1975 when Yoko divorced Fukase, his life took a darker turn.
The idea of a ‘home town’ in terms of how Finnemore understands the concept forms a constant in times of chaos and can provide comfort knowing that this space is where one originates from and belongs, if one knows where it lies. This is where Fukase visits frequently after the separation from his wife and also where the beginnings of “The Solitude of Ravens” took form. (Warren 2006, p. 570)

On the first visit to Fukase’s home town in Hokkaido, the photographer takes some pictures of the birds through the train windows- this must have struck something deep inside Fukase that formed his obsession with these creatures that manifested itself into a ten year fixation of photographing ravens and crows- even going on to note in the third installation of the exhibition: “I assumed a defiant attitude that I myself was a raven” (Warren 2006, p. 569) Obviously, Fukase did not see himself as a physical entity with dark feathers and a beak but rather, he has become a character that a raven is often personified as: a dark, gloomy character with allusions to the idea of death. This symbolism or personification of an animal is used to express radical states of emotion- something that may have been seen as rather exciting for a country in which, at the time prized traditional, reserved aspects of character.
“For a culture that is traditionally reluctant to expose emotion in public, the expressionistic character of Fukase’s work was, in part, the result of the development of the generation that evolved after WWII.” (Fukase 2001)
This new found importance of self expression and identity that came out of the generation born around 1930’s Japan is perhaps responsible for ‘The Solitude of Ravens’ being called by the British Journal of Photography in 2010, the best photobook of the past twenty five years. (O’Hagan 2010).Fukase’s birds are often shown with what one can only imagine a flash from a camera reflecting in their eyes, giving these animals a demonic presence as their eyes glow bright white in the grainy, disorientating dark- this aesthetic Fukase has chosen to utilise is rather confrontational and make the ravens seem terrifying and almost ghost-like to produce unsettling photographs that are not simply of ravens but of a dark, indescribable and suffocating force.

Ravens and crows have been used to symbolise these characteristics in plenty of famous work- the obvious instance in which a raven is used in popular literature is the aptly named ,“The Raven” by Edgar Allan Poe- considered his most popular work, the poem’s themes of the supernatural, death and fear are embodied by completely normal subjects, of unusual tapping sounds in an empty house- it is perhaps this normality that would make the poem more haunting “Poe invests ordinary objects or animals with demonic attributes, in order to convey emotion and mood” (Foster 2014, p. 139) All of these dark themes, coupled with ever building suspense come together in the form of a raven whom is described as a “grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore” (Poe 1991, p. 28) giving the raven this description not only fits the character this bird seems to possess but are words linked with the concept of fear- this fits the idea of a raven, given it’s symbolic relationship with sorcery and being able to tell the future. The word “ominous” used here is noteworthy as the raven is depicted as a creature expected to foreshadow something, traditionally, death. The artist Vincent Van Gogh’s “Wheat Field With Crows” depicts, as the title suggests, a flock of crows flying over a field, something that is expected in wheat fields that is nothing out of the ordinary in the modern day western world but it is when this animal- crow or raven, is shown in art or literature that it is analysed as symbolic with some critics saying of Van
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Gogh’s painting that “the crows in his painting symbolize the inevitability of his death.” (Hassler 2008, P. 90) with some going as far as calling “Wheat Field With Crows” Van Gogh’s suicide note. The fact that Van Gogh’s painting features crows instead of ravens yet still carries the same connotations is not important as “Discussions of the symbolism of crows and ravens tend to treat the birds as if they are identical” (Werness 2006, P. 105) -something Masahisa Fukase seems to do with ’The Solitude of Ravens’ series “began with a chance photograph of a flock of crows on his native Hokkaido” (ANON 2001) Therefore it is of little importance that some of Fukase’s ravens are in fact crows- the symbolism of the creature far surpasses the actual animal, which is why Fukase’s book is not simply resigned to a typology of crows and ravens but instead epitomises the psychological state of the artist.

The personal landscape of one’s mind is all the more interesting due to the cryptic nature of symbolism and the promise of travels to “another place” (Moriyama2012, p. 178) to see something strange and new in a world that is arguably growing aesthetically all the more universal, it is important that these fictions exist as they form the isles on which one holidays from this world. One could say that the escape is sometimes the most important aspect of experiencing art rather than the conclusion of the piece, however the conclusion or “moral” is expected to give the work gravity and a purpose- much like a destination is given for a holiday to give reason for the journey there- the exhibition, concert, photograph, painting, prose, album and book could all be seen as answers to “the nomadic instinct”- these temporary escapes satisfy the appetite for travel and in this sense, the art consumer is a nomad in his/her own right, in a constant state of travel in pursuit of experiences outside of the ‘everyday’; therefore in pursuit of a reality differing to the ‘real’- we are Moriyama on the train towards Tonō: unaware of what will come of this journey or even if this place exists but once again, we are travelling- wandering the unknown in search of experience and knowledge of “another place” like Kafka’s “dog”.

All images are screen shots from the Michael Hoppen Gallery website

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