Presenting Photo Legend Nobuyoshi Araki’s Latest Masterwork

Araki is basically synonymous with Japanese photography, and his work had a huge influence, either conscious or unconscious, on photographers working in the 80s, 90s, and aughts—Nan Goldin, Viviane Sassen, Juergen Teller—who in turn had a massive influence on many of the photographers I’ve published. So, publishing Araki is a way of coming full circle. I don’t think the work of Momo Okabe, or Ren Hang, or Daisuke Yokota would be possible without Araki having done what he’s done, and revisiting his work is a way of reminding all of us where a lot of contemporary imagery comes from.

He’s working at the intersection of three media—photography, painting, and film—and Araki himself considers this among his most important works. I agree. I think you can feel that sense of play and experimentation. He’s obviously pushing himself here, and it’s great when the artist is challenging themselves as much as the viewer. Not to mention that the work is just stunning, and very few people have been exposed to it.

Well, I didn’t choose their work for publication based on subject matter, but you’re right, I like artists that strike me in a certain way and that challenge me. But I don’t think their beauty comes from a deliberate attempt to try something new. Their work is honest, and true to who they are. I’m just attracted to work that’s challenging and sincere.

My friend studied Art History at Columbia University, and he took a class with a famous critic who’s an expert on American minimalism. The professor despised Araki’s work and didn’t think it qualified as art. I totally understand where she’s coming from, but she just doesn’t have the experience or interests that allow her to appreciate his work, and in that way I think she doesn’t know her own limitations. “Art History,” at least the kind she’s preoccupied with, is the development of a discourse relying on certain intellectual mechanisms that are only applicable to Western art.

Araki’s suffered a lot of criticism that comes from that kind of institutionalized thinking, but the West’s relationship to sexuality is something totally different. It’s my job to make his work communicable to viewers in the West.

Ren really struck me. His work, like Araki’s, is very simple on the surface, and people can be dismissive of it, but I noticed that there’s a very dark undertone. As an Asian I totally get that sensibility, so I was drawn to it immediately. Just like Ren, I recognize that I have a pretty dark side and can feel self-destructive at times, and am often uncomfortable with myself, feelings that I’ve carried with me since birth. Hopefully I’m not being too negative by saying that, but it’s just a fact of my life. I bet it’s a feeling that a lot of people identify with, and one that Ren was able to translate to his work, which is why I think it became pretty popular.

Definitely, and the fact that he made work that was affecting but didn’t take itself too seriously. I remember when Ren was shooting on a rooftop during a freezing winter in 2015 for our first book, New Love, and being totally shocked by his spontaneity. Ren asked his models to put on red nail polish right before shooting, and when a part of his camera broke he used the discarded shipping tape in a garbage can to fix it right away. As a Japanese person, this kind of spontaneity is impossible. We prepare everything to perfection before the actual event—no haphazard accidents are allowed. Japanese people tend to think less of preserving the passion that goes into creating something and focus much more on perfecting the final result.

Yes, and that’s part of what made the work of him and his peers so explosive. But despite the pushback from artists over the years, Japan can still be a pretty restrictive place. That’s why Session Press feels especially Japanese in nature, since I have a lot of boundaries compared to other American publishers. English isn’t my first language, I’m not perfect looking, and I’m not young, but I notice those restrictions and disadvantages are in fact the things that set me apart as someone working in the photobook world in New York.

Yeah, and for that reason, I deliberately chose to work with non-Japanese team members. I need their perspective to help round things out. It would be arrogant of me if I expected a Western audience to understand Japanese photography just by showing it as is.

I decided to start Session after I realized that I hold a pretty unique position here at Dashwood, in that I have a great chance to meet with photobook collectors in person and build up sincere relationships that are sustainable in the long term. The online stuff is of course effective for sales nowadays but from my experience, I can say that having a physical presence makes for a deeper client relationship. I wanted to establish a direct line to people through my work at Dashwood and position myself as a kind of ambassador to Japanese photography. The essence of the photobook is in its physicality, so direct communication is important. You’re never fully appreciating a photobook when you see it online.

I was very young when I decided I wanted to work with art, and I was really searching for an ideal field for a long time. I picked up photography and photobooks since I knew that Japanese photography’s been well received in the west but that there aren’t many publishers that have it as a serious focus here, especially that are Japanese-born. My hope was to carve out a small but important space within the photobook world that allows voices that are usually absent to be heard.