ARTIST INTERVIEW

ーー You say that all your photographs are self-portraits. Is that something you learned from Yousuf Karsh?

Not at all.  I have had Karsh take pictures of me, and during the shoot he would scold me harshly.  When I thought about it, he started complimenting my personality a lot, hugging me, and getting really into the subject.  When I learned that he poured that energy into everyone from John F. Kennedy to Helen Keller to unknown people, I thought there was no way I could do it.

I had high ambitions to become a photographer like Karsh, and although I worked hard to acquire the skills, I felt that I would never be able to reach that level. Around that time, I started going to a friend's vacation home on the outskirts of Manhattan almost every week, and along the way, a clear image came to me as if it were a revelation.

British photographer Cecil Beaton has a work in which he uses models as puppets. I had the original print of that work, but I had the same idea before I got it. I thought it would be interesting to photograph people as puppets and landscapes as stages, and I was able to connect what I had seen and what I was thinking.

Rather than creating a story first, when I come across a place where I move around and commune with my own feelings, I begin to imagine the people there. I realized that all I had to do was photograph it, and I was able to say goodbye to Karsh's style.

Therefore, rather than delving into the subject's inner self, my portraits are a projection of my own feelings and emotions, "this is how I want to look."

Hori during the interview

ーー What struck me most about this exhibition was that you said, "The time has come to say goodbye to the etiquette of photography in America and Japan."

In the words of someone else, in Japan there are "photography practices" like martial arts and flower arranging, and I feel that there is a kind of constraint on how things should be done.  In addition, in the United States in the 1990s, when I studied photography, there was a strong academic side, with theories on modern photographic art beginning with Alfred Stieglitz's Equivalent, and technical theories for preserving archives for over 100 years, and photography was considered a privileged class.  I thought it was like a sanctuary.

ーー You wanted to be free from the stereotypes associated with such photographs.

In terms of photography theory, there is a concept that a work should be completed in one piece.  There's no doubt about that, but I've come to think that it's okay to have the exact opposite opinion.  It might have something to do with the fact that I've wanted to be a film director since I was in elementary school, but I also think that there are some photos that create a synergistic effect when you combine multiple photos that take place in time, have completely different meanings, or have different processes.  That's what I've been doing lately.

ーー The title of the exhibition, "Free Again," refers to bringing out what you have hidden deep within yourself.

I was always afraid to show my work to people.  I'm still scared. When I was in elementary school, my teacher once criticized something I made in an arts and crafts class, and perhaps because of that trauma,  I never had confidence in what I made.  Then, I went to New York because I wanted to do photography, went through unnecessary hardships, and even though I worked as a photographer, it wasn't love and peace, it was love and hate.  I've been wandering in a place where I don't know what's between love and hate.

At the atelier

ーー It is surprising that Mr. Hori, who has been active on the front lines as a photographer, was faced with such conflicts. It seems that the exhibition you held before this one in Shinjuku's Golden Gai focused on failed works.

There are a lot of people now who say "good'" something that was criticized 30 years ago, and I decided not to watch it myself because I was afraid of being criticized or that my photography skills were lacking.  I decided to try and scoop up the things I had left behind, the things I didn't even realize I had dropped, just to make it look cool. 

When I decorate a room with art or anything else, I think I decorate it with things that reflect my feelings. Of course, I will continue to work in photography, but I feel that I am finally unable to come to terms with myself unless I do something that allows me to empathize with my own feelings.

I create works in response to scenery and things I happen to come across and think, "This is it!" and in response to works that I have created myself.  This is a continuation.

At the atelier

ーー When else do you get inspired?

I have a diary that I have been writing in every morning for over 20 years.  When I wake up, I start writing down what's on my mind, but what was in Japanese becomes English, or characters that I can't decipher.  It's like ideas that were hidden inside me flow out and pop out like a toaster.  There are moments when you are taken in an unexpected direction.  I guess it's a premonition.  I think everyone has moments when they feel a sense of surprise, and I think we have to move on from those premonitions.