In Japanese, the word for photograph, shashin (写真), carries the meaning of “capturing/tracing the truth." While the English word photography is based on optical phenomena, the Japanese word shashin can be said to carry a strong ethical connotation. It goes without saying that this ethical nuance has influenced the very definition of photography in Japan. Even the great photographers of Japan have been shaped by this understanding.
Having been born and raised in Japan, I also view the medium through that definition. The idea that photography should always relate to reality and truth may already be outdated. Still, as long as photography remains a technology that fixes the reflection of light, it can only speak of what has been illuminated by actual light. And light does not lie.
Street photography is a nexus of various social and cultural elements. People from all social strata, each with their own individuality, appear in the shared space of the street, creating a kind of chaos. What the photographer chooses to capture from that chaos is entirely up to them. At the same time, these choices are recorded as fragments of “truth” illuminated by real light. It is the truth that a certain man, a certain woman, existed at that moment on that street. I aimed to capture only that truth in my photographs.
Photographs composed through the viewfinder to achieve perfect beauty often lose their reality precisely because of their perfection. In photography, truth often emerges accidentally—through the imperfection or bias in composition. In this series, I essentially did not look through the viewfinder. I simply pressed the shutter in secret as I passed by strangers on the streets of Manhattan, hoping that “truth” would be captured.
This series stems from my sociological interest. Perhaps the people shown on these streets may not carry much significance today. But in 50 or 100 years, those images of people who once stood in the corners of these streets will come to carry great meaning. Historically great figures will likely still be visible to future generations 100 years from now. But the people I am recording—those on the streets—will disappear unless someone with a strong will makes the effort to document them. It's a dirty job. But someone has to do it. My aim in this series is to continue doing that dirty work.