For those in mainland China, I trust you had a pleasant break over the absurdly arranged Dragonboat Festival holiday (we got Monday to Wednesday off after a 7 day work week).

I was visiting family in Singapore and alternated between eating and mopping my brow against the sweltering heat. Singaporeans were complaining about the recent haze from seasonal Sumatra fires, no doubt, there was a light tinge of smog a few mornings. But bah! I could complain about Shanghai’s enduring pollution but will only be scoffed off by my Beijing friends.

Anyway I was thwarted from picking up the Ricoh GR. But it was for the best because with every cloud comes a silver lining, the Iphone came to the rescue. I mentioned EyeEm before, more user-friendly filter app than Instagram that doesn’t attempt to auto-crop your photos. And under a more anonymous username, there is no one to “follow” you.

Now, pair that with the photo and text app Phonto, what do you get? Street photography with wisecrack statements, apologies if they are quite lame. Observe my taxi journey from the airport, after surviving a very uncomfortable and restless red-eye flight from Singapore. I used to do this journey with ease, 5 hour flight meant a 3-4 hour nap and salty eggs for breakfast, but alas, this lady is aging and is not as spry as before.

Enjoy!

Caio Yosuke Ishizuka (石塚洋介) is a Japanese Ph.D candidate in Shanghai studying the role of photographers in advocating social movements across East Asia. He is also an editor for Taiwanese photography magazine, Voices of Photography. In addition to his academic and writing pursuits, Yosuke dabbles in street photography but seriously contemplates about the process and what he deems to be a “conflicting” relationship between photographer and subject. A very dedicated and thoughtful individual with plenty to share with our readers.  Website: Glances

SA: From our conversation, I am very intrigued by the focus of your PhD work looking at the role of photography in social movements in East Asia. Can you share what drew you into this subject? 

我们之前进行对话时，我对你的研究非常感兴趣，东亚社会运动当中摄影师的角色，你为什么被这个题目吸引了呢？

YI: I have been studying Chinese Mandarin since young and have travelled to China and Taiwan. In 2006 I was an exchange student in Hong Kong for a year. At that time I was majoring in sociology and also had interests in visual arts, but my home college didn’t offer many courses connecting these areas. I noticed Hong Kong had many photo documentary projects and found the trend interesting. Before then, my notion of photography was that it is only an inexplicit form of art expression or a direct method of reporting extraordinary events like hunger or war, which seemed very far from myself. But I noticed some Hong Kong photographers used their work as a political tool to address local issues. For example, I was very impressed by the Community Museum Project’s works. They took pictures of Lee Tung Street, one of the oldest street on Hong Kong island which was designated to be demolished for redevelopment, shot it from end to end and turned them into a panoramic picture. They also documented objects the residents had in their shops and houses. This project was obviously part of the protest by local residents against the enforced redevelopment by the government.

Another project is a photo series published by the Society for Community Organization (SoCO) which collaborates with photographers to document people’s lives in a relatively poor area of Hong Kong to report their poor living conditions and related problems. I think their projects have value since Hong Kong continues to suffer from serious social class. After the exchange program, I went back to Japan and wrote a master thesis on documentary photography in Hong Kong. I wanted to continue study more about documentary photography in Asia but at the same time I found my life in Tokyo was quite boring. Luckily, I later got to know my current supervisor Dr. Gu Zheng (顾铮) who teaches photography theory at Fudan University in Shanghai and decided to study under him.

我学中文很久，小时候就去过中国大陆和台湾旅行。后来在2006年我到香港去当了一年的交换学生。当时我的专业是社会学，但其实也对视觉艺术感兴趣，我日本的大学却没有连接两者的课程。我在香港发现有不少纪实摄影的项目，觉得这个现象很有意思。之前我对摄影的理解很狭窄，我以为摄影要么就是很模糊的艺术表现方式，不然就是很直接告诉你所发生的新闻故事的一种方法，往往这些报道摄影作品离你很远，都是宏大的叙事，比如饥饿、战争等等。不过我发现香港的摄影家却用自己的作品阐述着本土问题。例如，“民间博物馆计划”，这组作品让我印象深刻：香港最老的街坊之一利东街被拆迁之前，“民间博物馆计划”的成员赶到那里拍摄了一整条路的样貌，之后做成幅宽的摄影作品。他们也拍摄了当地居民店铺里和家里的东西。这个项目很显著地构成居民所推动的反抗政府城市重建项目的社会运动的一部分。

另一个有趣的例子是“香港社区组织协会”出版的摄影书系列。他们和摄影师联合起来纪录相对来讲贫穷社区的人们的生活，以便向社会诉说他们所置身的恶劣生活条件和相关问题。我觉得这个项目很有价值，因为香港仍然存在着严重贫富差距，但又往往被忽视。学校的交换计划结束后，我回到日本，就香港的纪实摄影写了篇论文。当时我还想继续研究亚洲的纪实摄影，但同时觉得我在东京的生活有点无聊。之后我很幸运地认识了在复旦大学教摄影理论的顾铮教授，便决定在他指导之下进行研究。

(Above) By Dustin Shum for Society for Community Organization (SoCO) 

SA: So he was a reason you moved to Shanghai to do a PhD? 

所以顾铮老师是你决定到上海来念博士的缘由吗？

Yes. I moved to Shanghai from Tokyo in 2010. I was so excited since life in Shanghai seems challenging, full of uncertainness and possibilities at the same time. What I find cool about studying under Gu Zheng was that he was a core member of the avant-garde photographers group “Beihemeng” (北河盟) back in 1980s. He sees the process of photography and studying it as an academic context equally important. This affected me most. I’m now working on my own academic project on the relationship between social movements and photography. Departing from my cross-cultural interests, I’m trying to better understand how photographers, not just as documenters but as involved actors, are committed to social movements and how it has affected the whole discourse of social movements by comparing different cases across Japan, Okinawa, Taiwan and Hong Kong.

是的，我2010年从东京搬到上海。来之前，我有想到会碰到一些困难，但同时也觉得上海充满着无限的不确定性和可能性，当时我为此感到兴奋。之后我一直在顾铮老师的指导下做研究，我觉得其中最酷的地方在于：顾老师1980年代曾经是前卫摄影家组合“北河盟”的成员。他将自己的拍摄和在学术上的摄影研究视作同样重要，这改变了我对研究者的看法。我目前在做有关社会运动和摄影之间关系的研究：从跨国性的兴趣出发，透过分析日本、冲绳、台湾、香港的不同案例，我试图表明摄影师不仅是作为纪录者而作为积极的参与者怎样置身于社会运动当中，探究其行为给社会运动的话语带来怎样的影响。

SA: Share with us your philosophy behind “Glances“. Such as how does it reflect your style of street photography, and why do you choose to showcase some photos over others?

可以分享一下你《视线交错》系列背后的观念吗？例如，它怎么反映出你街头摄影的风格？为什么你从大量的照片中挑出这几张而展现出来呢？

YI: Yes. I made a photo series entitled “Glances”. This is not a completed documentary project but rather a reflection of my thinking process. Since I moved to Shanghai, I’ve travelled to many cities around the country. Even though Shanghai gives me many insights, I never feel I belong in Shanghai. So driven by curiosity and loneliness, I would take random trips to different places. During these trips, I didn’t actually have many thoughts but just kept shooting and shooting. I didn’t want to just keep a travelogue so I started to think about the meaning of my pictures.

In terms of my style, I am greatly impacted by Gu Zheng. First of all, he’s an urbanist. His works are always about the city and I like his early series “上海速写系列” or “Shanghai Sketch”. He is a surrealist too and influenced by him, I started to think that good photographs are ones that make you feel anxious. Simply beautiful pictures are boring. So I picked up some of my photographs that I thought contained elements, which evoked uneasy emotions and at first named the series “the City of Anxiety”. But then, I started to think about what it is that makes a person feel uneasy and realized that it lay in glances. Cities are filled with violence and desire, and photography connects the two. In “Glances”, I took those photos without the subjects’ knowledge and consider this action to be “violent”, but looking back at photos, I realized that the subjects are also looking at me (Picture 1). I think photography is a communication tool among the photographed subject, photographer and viewer in principal. So the way I had taken the photographs deprived the subjects of their right to decide how their images are represented. Even if it may be allowed or accepted, it could be controversial sometimes. In this sense, the actions of looking and being looked at create a kind of tension in urban spaces and photography can capture that.

I also documented some scenes of demolition which is happening all over China now. (Picture 2) I use photography as political tool to demonstrate that people, including myself, are witnessing this violent action. But, as I mentioned at the beginning, I took these photos only with vague ideas or even unconsciously, and when curating the photos, some ideas came up to me. So what these photos represent is a process of my thinking, rather than a specific documentary theme.

我做了一个摄影作品系列，名叫《视线交错》，但这并不是一个完整的纪实摄影项目，可以说是我思考过程的反映。我搬到上海以后，不断地旅行，去过不少城市。虽然上海给我很多启发，但其实对上海并没有归属感。因此，我被好奇心和寂寞感有所驱动，离开上海而很随性地到不同地方。在这些旅行期间进行拍摄时，我并没有太多的想法而一直在拍摄。但后来因为我不想只把它当作旅游纪念照，所以我就开始想到底这些照片有什么意义。

至于我的风格，无法否认我受到顾铮老师的影响。首先他是都市主义者，他的作品都是关于城市，其中我喜欢他早期的作品“上海速写系列”。他也是超现实主义者，我从他的这一面也受到影响，因此，我开始觉得让人感到些许不安的照片才是好的。纯粹追求美感的照片反而很无聊。于是，我挑选了我认为拥有让人感到奇妙的因素的照片，当初把它称为“不安都市”系列。但后来我又开始想到底什么因素让人感到奇妙，便发现视线才是，我再以视线为题挑选了照片。城市充满着暴力和欲望，我认为摄影透过观看这个行为能把两者结合起来。我拍照基本上是偷拍的，未经过对方的同意，我觉得这个行为也包含着一种“暴力”。不过，有趣的是我回头看照片却发现我也其实被拍摄对象凝视着。原则上，我认为摄影是拍摄者、被拍摄者以及观看者三者之间的沟通工具。那么，偷拍这种方式已经剥夺了拍摄对象对该影像怎样被再现出来这个议题行使自己意志的权利。即便偷拍已经在某种程度上被允许或接受，但还是有时候引起争议。在这个意义上，在城市空间中观看／被观看会产生张力，摄影则可捕捉之。

我也纪录了目前在中国各地常见的拆建现场。我想把摄影用作政治工具，以便展示人们包括我自己在目睹这样的暴力行为。不过，像我前面说的，我只是以比较模糊的概念，甚至无意识地拍摄了这些照片，而在挑选照片的时候才有了些念头。所以这些照片所反映出来的不是某个纪实摄影的主题，而是我思考的过程。

SA: You mentioned that although you live in Shanghai, most of your street photography is done outside of the city? Why? Do you feel the environment is different?

你提到虽然你住在上海但你的街头摄影都是在外地拍摄的，这是为什么？环境方面有什么区别呢？

YI: Yes, busy or rather “messy” cities inspire me most. Large flows of people, unorganized development filled with construction sites… I think this is the best environment to photograph without being noticed. Among the cities I’ve visited in China, I like Shenyang and Chongqing the most as they best represent rapidly developing big Chinese cities. On the other hand, Chengdu and Nanjing are somehow too beautifully organized. Dalian and Nanning are just too small and I didn’t feel much energy from them. Actually most of the cities in China are becoming more and more alike. You go to the city’s main street and see the same brands everywhere. So I’m more interested in representing “standard” Chinese cities and people, rather than depicting their uniqueness. In this sense, Shanghai is different because it has many historical buildings. Physical elements like sunlight can also have different impact. In general, I think it is easier to take better photos in northern cities because the sunlight is more subtle and highlights more gradual change. In the south, the sun is too strong but I do like the foggy weather along the Yangtze River which makes a city sexier.

是，繁忙的或甚至“凌乱”的城市给我更多的启发。过多的人流、无秩序的开发、无限的工地… 我觉得这是对偷拍来说最好的环境。我自己去过的中国城市当中，沈阳和重庆最能代表猛速发展中的中国城市。其他比如成都和南京等城市规划得比较好，不够凌乱，大连和南宁等城市太小了，我从中无法感觉到够多的热量。实际上中国的城市彼此越来越像，你去城市中最繁华的一条街，其实你看到的都是一样的品牌。所以我比较感兴趣的是把“标准”中国城市或人的模样展现出来这件事，多过于描述各个城市的特色。在这意义上，上海历史建筑比较多，属于例外吧。物质方面的条件，例如光线也会造成不同效果。一般来说，我觉得在北方容易拍到好的照片，因为光线比较微弱，细微的变化都能呈现出来。南方光线太强，但我也喜欢长江一带的多雾天气，因为雾能使城市变得性感。

SA: Let’s talk gear. What are you shooting with? Do you feel it is suitable for street photography?

谈谈器材吧。你在用什么相机呢？你觉得它适合拍街头摄影吗？

YI: I’m using Nikon D40. It’s very old. I think it’s suitable because it’s relatively small compared with other models in the same series. But for everyday shooting, I use the other film camera Natura Classica more often which I used for another series titled “Traveling in the Light” (http://caioshek.tumblr.com/). I also shot some street photography with this camera too (picture 3), but mostly use it to explore my aesthetic interests.

我在用Nikon D40，很破旧的， 但我觉得它还可以，因为和同一个系列的其他款式相比小一些。但日常生活当中拍摄时，我更多会用另外一个胶卷相机，名叫Natura Classica。我也为这台相机专门做了作品系列《光之旅》。用这个相机我也会拍街头摄影，但主要目的是探索自己的审美多一些。

SA: As a young Japanese living in a large Chinese city, do you feel the impact of Chinese nationalism – in terms of the way they view history, their sense of place in the world today – among your classmates or people in the streets? Do you feel it influences the way you view China through your lens?

作为一个住在中国大城市的日本青年，当你和你同学或街头上的人交流的时候，比如论及关于中国人对历史的看法或现今国际舞台上他们所占的位置，你有没有感觉到中国的民族主义的影响？ 这件事情有否影响你透过镜头看中国的方法？

YI: No, I don’t think so. I’m interested in how major economic and social changes in China affect the country’s landscape and people’s lives, and how they are represented in photography. This is part of the reason I’m living in China because I enjoy observing it. Of course China’s political background is interesting too, including how Chinese nationalism is formed and affect people’s mindset. This is also part of what makes Chinese contemporary art interesting, right? But, on an individual level, I’m more interested in people’s lives rather than their political thoughts. I have good Chinese friends at school and we share academic interests and chat about photography, art, work, love, our futures etc. The tiny islands  (Ed. note: Referred to as Senkaku Islands by the Japanese and Diaoyu Islands by the Chinese) where we’ve never been is rarely a topic we discuss.

On the streets, as I said, I don’t necessarily interact with people I shoot. But even through my camera, I’m still more concerned about their lives and not their political views. Nationalism tries to give people a certain kind of mind-set. This is very boring and dangerous. I myself need to avoid being narrow-minded by this growing nationalism and this may be a reason I’m more interested in universal questions like urbanization, desires and power through photography rather than be annoyed by the political games between the two countries. I sometimes get frustrated watching the news, which is a very passive action. In fact, we can be more active simply by bringing our cameras into the streets. More importantly, we can present our own way of viewing this world using photography, because it is a visual language understood by everyone.

我觉得没有受到民族主义的直接影响。中国在经济或社会方面的剧烈变化，为其风景或人民的生活带来怎样的影响，这又如何在摄影作品上面反映出来，是我感兴趣的议题。这是我住在中国的理由之一，我很喜欢观察这些。

当然，中国的政治背景也很有趣，包括中国的民族主义的形成过程以及其对人们思考模式的影响。这应该也是中国当代艺术依然有趣的理由吧。但在个人的层面，我比较感兴趣的是人们的生活，多过政治观念。我在学校结识了些中国朋友，我和他们共享学术上的兴趣，因此会常谈摄影、艺术这些东西，也还聊工作、感情生活、未来等话题。实际上我们都没去过的那么几个小岛屿几乎不会成为我们谈话的内容。

在街头呢，像我前面说的，我拍摄的时候不一定会和街上的人进行对话。不过，透过相机，我关注的还是生活，而不是政治观念。民族主义试图灌注所有人特定的一种思考模式。这很无聊又很危险。我觉得自己必须避开受民族主义的束缚。这也许也是我对城市化、欲望、权力等比较普遍的主题感兴趣的原因。我不想被两国之间的政治游戏左右。我有时候看新闻觉得很郁闷。但光看新闻是很被动的行为，其实我们只要拿着相机上街就做出了很主动的行为。更重要的是，我们还可以用摄影展现自己对世界的看法，因为摄影是对所有人开放的视觉语言。

Visit Behind the Camera Interview Series to learn more about the work of other photographers.

And a warm welcome to our Japanese readers:

石塚洋介：現在上海在住。博士課程に在籍し、東アジアの社会運動において写真家が果たした役割について研究中。また台湾の写真雑誌「Voices of Photography」編集者も務める。写真を撮る／撮られるとは何か、自分の作品を通して写真を撮ることの過程と影響について模索する。今回のインタビューでは作品の背後にある彼の思考について迫った。

SA: 前にお話したときに石塚さんの研究について興味をもったのですが、なぜ東アジアの社会運動における写真家の役割というトピックに惹かれたのですか？

YI: 中学生の頃から中国語を勉強し、中国、台湾ともに旅行をしたこともありました。2006年には香港に１年間交換留学もしました。当時社会学専攻でありながら実はビジュアルアートにも興味があったのですが、日本で在籍していた大学には両者ともに関係するような授業はありませんでした。ところが香港に行くとたくさんのドキュメンタリー写真のプロジェクトがあることに気がつき、興味をもちました。その前までは自分自身写真に対する考えも狭く、ちょっとぼやけたアートか、自分自身からはほど遠く見える飢餓や戦争といった大きなニュースを伝える方法ぐらいにしか思っていなかったんですね。ところが香港の写真家たちは、非常にローカルな問題を伝えるための政治的道具として自分たちの作品を用いていた。例えば、「Community Museum Project (以下CMP)」という団体があるのですが、彼らの作品にはとても驚きました。香港島で一番古い街のひとつ利東街という通りがあったのですが、再開発に伴いその一帯が壊されることになったんです。そのときCMPのメンバーはそこに行って通りの端から端まで写真に収め、パノラマの作品にしたんです。またそこに住んでいる人たちの店や家においてある物も撮影しました。明らかにこのプロジェクトは、当時政府の強制的な再開発に対して住民が繰り広げた反対運動の一部だったわけです。

また「Society of Community Organization(以下SCO)」という団体が出版している写真集にも興味を持ちました。SCOは写真家と協力して、香港で比較的貧しい地区の人々の生活を撮影し、彼らが置かれた劣悪な居住環境とそれに関連する問題を提起しています。香港には今もなおひどい貧富の差が存在していることを考えると、とても意義深いプロジェクトだと思います。交換留学が終わってから日本に戻り、香港のドキュメンタリー写真に関する論文を執筆しました。もっとアジアのドキュメンタリー写真について勉強したくなったのですが、同時に東京での生活がつまらなくも感じ始めました。幸運にもその後、今の指導教授となる復旦大学で写真理論を教える顧錚（Gu Zheng）先生に出会い、彼の指導のもとで研究をすることを決めました。

 SA:つまり上海で博士課程に入ろうと決意した理由は、顧先生だったということですか？

YI: そうですね。2010年に東京から上海へ移りました。上海での生活は先の見えないことばかりでしたが、そのぶんいろんな可能性もあり、試しがいがあるという点でわくわくしていましたね。顧先生のもとで研究することの何がいいと思ったかというと、顧先生は80年代上海のアヴァンギャルド写真家グループ「北河盟」のコアメンバーだったということです。彼は自分で写真を撮ることと学術的にそれを研究すること、両者同様に重要だと思っているんですね。研究者に対する見方が変わりました。僕は今、社会運動と写真の関係に関する研究に取り組んでいます。多文化に対する興味から、日本、沖縄、台湾、香港の異なるケースを比較しつつ、写真家がただの記録者ではなくてより積極的なアクターとしてどう社会運動に組み込まれていったのか、またそれがどう社会運動のディスコースに影響したかを明らかにしようとしています。

 SA: なぜ研究対象に中国本土が含まれていないのでしょう。

 YI: ポストモダン理論でいう行為主体（Agency）としての写真家の役割、つまり社会運動に写真家がどう積極的に主体として関わったかということを明らかにしたいからです。ここから、社会運動を独立したプロジェクトとして記録した写真家に研究対象をしぼりました。文化大革命を撮った写真家にも興味があるのですが、その多くは記者であったことから、彼らはイデオロギーの影響から逃れられなかったという意味で研究対象としてはふさわしくないと考えています。

 SA:「Glances」の背後にあるコンセプトについて話していただけますか？それがどのように石塚さんのストリートフォトのスタイルを表しているのか、またなぜ大量の写真からそれらを選び出したのですか？

YI: はい。「Glances」という名の写真作品集を作りましたが、これは完成したドキュメンタリー写真のプロジェクトではなく、どちらかというと僕の思考を表したものといったほうがいいですね。上海に引っ越してきてからというもの、中国のたくさんの都市へと旅行しました。上海からもひらめきを得るのですが、上海は自分が帰属する場所とは感じられず、好奇心と寂しさにまかせていろいろな場所へと旅行しました。旅行の間は実際あまり考えもなく、ただただ写真を撮っていました。その後それらの写真をただの旅行写真にはしたくないと思い、写真にどんな意味があるかを考え始めました。

スタイルの面では顧先生の影響を受けたと言えると思います。第一に顧先生は都市主義者です。彼の作品はいつも都市に関するもので、「上海スケッチ」という初期のシリーズが僕は好きです。それからシュルレアリストでもあるんですね。僕もそこから、人を不安にさせるような写真こそいい写真だと考えるようになりました。ただきれいな写真はつまらない。というわけで、何か人を不安にさせるような要素を含む写真を最初は選び出し、「不安都市」と名付けたシリーズにしました。その後また、何が不安な気持ちを呼び起こすのかということを考え始め、そのキーポイントが視線にあることに気付きました。都市は暴力と欲望のかたまりで、写真は「見る」という行為を通してその両者をつなげることができるのだと思っています。「Glances」にある写真は、相手に気付かれないように撮ったものです。この行為はある意味で暴力を含んでいると思うんですね。でも写真を見返してみると、実は被写体もこちらのことを見ていたりする。僕は写真とは撮る人、撮られる人、そして見る人の間のコミュニケーションの道具だと思っています。だから相手に気付かれずに撮るという方法は、被写体がその写真がどういうふうに表象されるか決める権利を奪っている。習慣上それが許容され受け入れられているとはいえ、論議を醸すこともある。この意味で、見ることと見られることは都市空間においてある種の緊張を生み出し、それを捉えるのが写真なのです。

また「Glances」のシリーズには、今中国各地で起こっている街の取り壊しの現場も収めています。僕を含めて人々はその暴力的な行為を見ているということを伝えるために、写真を政治的な道具としても用いたいということです。しかし、最初にも述べたように、写真を撮ったときあまりはっきりした考えはなく、というより無意識に撮ったりもしていたので、写真をキュレーションするときになってこういう考えが出てきたのです。ですから、これらの写真は特定のドキュメンタリー写真のテーマではなくて、僕の思考の過程の表れです。

 SA: 上海に住んでいるのに、石塚さんのストリートフォトのほとんどは上海の外で撮ったとおっしゃいましたが、それはなぜですか？環境という面で何が違うのでしょう。

YI: そうですね、往来の激しい、というか「めちゃくちゃな」都市のほうが撮る意欲がわきますね。大きな人の流れとか、無秩序な開発、際限ない工事現場…こうした環境の方が相手に気付かれずに写真を撮りやすいと思います。中国で行った都市の中では、瀋陽と重慶は急速に発展する中国の大都市をよく表していると思います。それに対して、成都や南京はきれいに計画されすぎている感じで、大連や南寧は小さすぎてエネルギーを感じられなかったですね。実際中国の都市はどれも似てきている気がします。街の目抜き通りに行くと、見えるのはいつも同じブランドばかり。ですから僕が興味があるのは、「標準的な」中国の都市や人の像を表すことで、個別性を描きだすことではないんです。この意味で上海は多くの歴史的建物があるために、ちょっと違いますね。物理的要素、たとえば日の光も大きな違いをもたらしますね。一般的に言って、太陽光が弱く、細かい違いが感じられる北方の方が、いい写真が撮れる気がします。南方は光が強すぎます。でも揚子江一帯の霧の多い天気も好きです。都市がセクシーに見えるので。

SA: メカについて話しましょうか。どんなカメラで撮っているのですか？ストリートフォトには向いていると思いますか？

YI: ニコンD40を使っていますが、もうおんぼろです。向いているとは思います。同じシリーズの他のモデルに比べて小さいので。でも日常生活で撮るときは、違うナチュラクラシカというフィルムカメラを使うことのほうが多いです。それで撮ったものはもうひとつのシリーズ「Traveling in the Light」としてまとめてあります。ストリートフォトもそれで撮ったりしますが、主には自分の審美的な探求のために使っています。

SA: 中国の大都市に住む日本人の若者として、同級生や街で会う人々から中国のナショナリズムの影響を感じることはありますか？また、もっと重要な問題かもしれませんが、それは石塚さんがレンズを通して中国を見る方法に影響を与えていると感じますか？

 YI: 影響はないと思いますね。中国のこの大規模な経済的、社会的変動がこの国の風景と人々の生活にどのような影響を与えているのか、またそれがどのような形で写真に現れるのかに僕は関心があります。それを観察することは面白いし、僕が中国に住んでいる理由でもあります。もちろんその政治的背景も興味深い。中国のナショナリズムがどう形成され、それがどう人々の思考の枠組みに影響するのか。これも中国の現代アートをおもしろくさせている理由のひとつですね。ですが個人のレベルでは、僕は人々の政治思想よりも生活のほうに興味がわきます。学校には学術的興味の近い中国人の友だちがいるのですが、彼らとは写真やアート、さらには仕事や恋愛、未来などについて話します。実際、どちらもいったことのない小さな島なんて話題にあまりならない。街中では、さきほども言ったように、写真を撮るときにその相手と話すとは限らないです。ただ、カメラを通しているとしても、僕が気になるのは人々の生活であって、政治的思想ではない。ナショナリズムは人々に特定の思考の枠組みを与えようとする。これはつまらないし、危険でもある。僕個人としては、この強まるナショナリズムによって自分の思考が狭まることを避けねばならないと思っているし、僕が写真を通して都市化や欲望、権力といったより普遍的なテーマに興味をもつ原因かもしれません。２国間の政治ゲームに感情を左右されたくない。ニュースを見ていらいらすることもありますが、それは非常に受け身的行為ですよね。カメラをもって街にでるだけで、実はもっと主体的になれる。そしてもっと重要なことは、写真を通して自分がどう世界をみるかということを表すことができる。写真は万人に開かれた視覚的言語なのですから。

How do we as foreigners view China? Beyond the tired observations of the darker side of urbanisation, weathered and beaten portraits of the under-classes, what do we see that is different from how locals view their surroundings?  Do we suffer from the shallow “drive by shooting” effect, or do we really provide an insight that is wildly unique?

Today’s links present three perspectives, I’d be curious to know if you feel them to be similar or otherwise.  

- Czech photographer Jiri Makovec’s mark as a photographer is noted by his recent induction into InPublic, the street photography collective started up by Nick Turpin, his feature in New York Times and referred to as “One to Watch” by the British Journal of Photography. I was pleased to discover his work on Russia and China, a wonderful contrast in style and perspective: the former monochrome, vintage and personal, while the latter was desaturated, upbeat and distant. Makovec’s China collective is very interesting mainly due to the obvious absence of Beijing and Shanghai. Rather, it had a more “provincial” feel: domestic tourists, a smaller sized Mao statue, regional airpots and generic natural scenary. It captured China in an even fashion by the lack of captions on location and tother details.

- Markel Redondo studied part of his MA in photography in Beijing. His work covered topics du jour: urbanisation in Chongqing, environmental issues along the Yangtze etc. But I thought his most interesting work was documenting Chinese domestic tourism. He referred to the project as:

“… a satiric comment on the mass movements of people for cultural and “scenic spot” consumption. It concentrates on the social interactions between group members and leaders, tourists and the landscape and reveal a new phenomenon.”

- You’d probably have seen Alan Delorme’s “Totems” at some point. Less photography, more photographic art. While on a purposeful trip to Shanghai, he photoshopped shots of exaggerated (though not implausiable) and towering cargo that hawkers and deliverymen in Shanghai carry around against a backdrop of Shanghai’s building frenzy. His manufactured perspective of China is more overt, though I wouldn’t go as far to refer to it as reductive, but best appreciated for its wit and artistic value.

You probably can tell which is a favorite of mine, what about you?

You can follow more of my frequent posts on China and photography-related links on the blog’s Facebook page.

Months ago, I answered a call from a most unexpected person.

“Who is this?” I inquired snappishly, assuming it to be yet another sales call interrupting my evening.

Static greeted me. Then … “Surname Chen. You …. remember me?”

I looked at the country code and googled it: +996.

Kyrgyzstan.

Did someone find my missing tripod in Osh province?

Unsure, I hung up quickly. He rang back again and after much probing, he replied in exasperation, ”It’s Chen, the (Chinese) businessmen you met at the Kara-Suu market in Osh? From Fujian? You met my wife and cousin.”

I did a mental flip through my poor memory. That was more than a year ago. And yes, I do remember him, his family and Chinese comrades that made up the substantial gaggle of Chinese traders in one of the largest trade bazaars in Osh region.

“How are you! Goodness, how did you end up calling me?”

It turned out that he was cleaning out his car when he found my name card. Chen was still in dusty Kara-Suu but unfortunately, his wife had returned to Xian to see family, so has his very fiesty young female cousin who spoke Russian with the most Chinese of accents. The local Kyrgyz laborers loved her.

“A young girl like that,” he referred to his cousin, “she needs to find a husband back home. Not a place like here.”

When I first met Chen, I knew he was different. I felt in him a sense of wanderlust that built up his tolerance for working in a less developed country. He also had a university education, unlike his peers at Kara-suu. Chen never saw himself working as a tradesman, much less in Kyrgyzstan. He missed China’s more developed east coast and would even settle back in Urumqi, Xinjiang where the family business had an export outpost.

We spoke at length, about Shanghai, about China and about life. I sensed he was lonely and was tired of mingling with his Chinese neighbors. He was very engaged when talking about literature and history, sharing happily his views on everything.

Before he hung up, he seemed cheered. “Keep well, 小郑” (Little Zheng, my Chinese surname). I read your blog, though it’s all in English which is a problem.”

I remember he had dropped me a nice email weeks after our meeting, as did his young and lovely wife. Chen said he enjoyed the photos, calling it a perspective of a tourist, not someone who had to be there for work. I readily acknowledged it. It’s easy to romanticize life on the road, especially through rolling hills of evergreen and snow in Kyrgyzstan. But for someone like Chen, after tens of hours crossing the Chinese-Kyrgyz border at Ishkertam Pass in a rattling bus, one would find it tedious and most of all … homesick.

The weekend was mostly gloomy and wet though offering a comforting blanket for a restful weekend best enjoyed with a quiet cup of tea and movie du jour.

But for most of Shanghai, it was work as usual. Opening restaurants, selling wares and pounding pavements in a bid for a tidy investment, be it real estate, stock tips or a Ponzi scheme.

I joined the droves of delivery men on motorcyles and electric bikes as they crossed from one end of the Changyang Lu ferry point to the opposite side of the Huangpu River on Fuxing Lu. These men are exiled from the rest of the commuter population, unable to enter tunnels and bridges, but also seeking the fastest and most direct route to their customers in the dense metropolitan area.

As we swayed across choppy waters on that grey afternoon, I surveyed my fellow passengers: delivery men carrying a microwave, a television, a giant oven, eletrical wires and construction piping, adventure bikers and the occasional tourist who took a wrong turn somewhere.

The damp air helped cool the interior of the ferry which was infused with fumes from sputtering motorbikes which had readied itself at the exit. Having journeyed this way thousands of times, their moves were mechanical: park and stare. But in the few minutes as the ferry drifts sideways against the current, I watched an occasional sense of awe among the men as the unending skyline opens up to them. For one repair man, he said, “I’ve lived here ten years, and this always leaves an impression. Best part of my commute.”

Huangpu River has 19 ferry points dotted along both sides and four key ports for longer travel to nearby islands. Visitors are mostly aware of the pleasant yet iconic ferry journey back and forth the city’s two icons: the historical Bund and gleaming Lujiazui financial district.

But what they miss out is travelling on all the ferries up and down the Huangpu, watching the skylines crawl upwards in a manner that mapped Shanghai’s modernity. There are no tourists, only more deliverymen, workers, floating shipyards and waiting cargo hulls.

We travel around the world in this week’s photography links, touching on culture, poverty, urbanization and daily life.

- New Yorker profiles Caroline Drake’s work on Central Asia with rather insightful captions. She has been photographing the region for a long time, delving layers into the region, transcending culture, ethnicity and politics. Her latest book “Two Rivers” follows the Amu Darya and the Syr Darya, the region’s major rivers.

- The Atlantic features how photographers are telling the story of China’s warp-speed urbanization at the San Jose Museum of Art. I was quite taken by Weng Fen‘s work. In his earlier series Sitting on the Wall and Bird’s Eye View, Weng’s images has young girls sitting/standing on a wall, bridge and platform staring out into the abyss of technicolor urbanism in cities such as Haikou, Shanghai and Shenzhen.

-  Photographer Russian Vlad Sokhin captures an under-reported plight of children in servitude called “Restavek: Child Slavery in Haiti” which I found very unsettling. Sokhin’s photos are disturbing without being graphic, but not as distressing as what he did not photograph:

“Sometimes he (Sokhin) was forced to put down his camera so he would not be participating in mistreatment, he said. In one photograph (Slide 20), a man who refused to have his identity revealed nonetheless slung his arm around the shirtless shoulders of his restavek boy while Mr. Sokhin was shooting. His head is cut off, a lit cigarette dangles from his hand, and the effect is creepy.

Even creepier, Mr. Sokhin said, was what he declined to photograph next: the man put the cigarette in the little boy’s mouth, laughing.”

The ethics of photographing such vulnerabe subjects are always murky to me, but I hope the ends justify the means. Writer Deborah Sontag wrote an extensive article about the plight of restaveks.

- Martin Parr’s saturated and trippy “USA Color” should perfectly lift your spirits.

As always, you can read more related links on the blog’s Facebook page.

One thing I promised myself with the blog’s revival is to share more as I’m hoping readers will evolve a little with me as we expand beyond Shanghai and China on occasion.

As part of the China in Central Asia project that I have been involved with, I am still publishing on the topic as interest remains strong. Come July, I’ll be having an exhibit on Kyrgyzstan in Singapore, details which I will share soon.

Inspired by the simplicity of monochrome and missing the general wanderlust feel of driving for hours on end from north to south and back again, experiencing evergreens to snowy mountains in span of weeks, I present a short series of being on the road in Kyrgyzstan.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Trapped in a bustling mall at the worst possible time – lunch, I was in line at a restaurant when I spotted Captain America riding the escalator. Kitted out from head to toe in a leather headgear, handsome blue jacket and jeans and of course, a red-white-and-blue shield - he strode confidently while examining his surroundings.

I watched him as he ambled around the cinema on the seventh floor of the shopping mall, obliging passers-by for photographs. There was no sign, no accompanying Avenger partners, nothing. Just him. Strolling.

It was too good an opportunity to pass up. I dashed over and waited patiently past eager children and giggling office girls. His face, half-covered, appeared handsome and strong. He posed strong-man style next to his younglings, staring off into the distance with a look that said, “Yes, I am here to protect and pose.”

When it was my turn, I shook my head when he shifted into yet another stance.

“I just want to know if you made this costume.” I asked.

Caught off-guard, he relaxed and nodded sheepishly. I replied, “That’s just awesome. What’s your name?”

It was the first time he appeared abashed. His Cosplay (costume play) name is “Little Bun” or xiaomantou (小馒头). The irony struck me as I tilted my head backwards to speak to his 6″2 frame. The movie Avengers was playing in the theatres then but he wasn’t paid to be walking advertisement. There was no need to given the glamorous lure of Hollywood and Marvel combined. Why are you here, if unpaid and simply posing for pictures in a random mall? I asked.

He shrugged, “I had time. Besides, this is fun.”

Little Bun was born and bred in Shanghai, and currently studying in university. He participated in Cosplay events, even performed in the annual ChinaJoy Cosplay Competition – where lusty men photographed endless half-naked young women in World of Warcraft costumes and Goth-dressed, pimply teenagers acted out their favorite Japanese anime novels.

I took down his number, much to the embarrassment of my colleague who commented that I was too old to be chatting up a young boy. Undeterred, I showed up per his instructions the next weekend in Jingan’s shopping mall, where he and his Cosplay friends were participating in an “American Heroes” exhibit. After that, he said, they had to practice for their play for the upcoming ChinaJoy.

Sure enough, on a hot and sweaty afternoon, I arrived to a smorgesboard of costume-clad teenagers in a copyright confusion/crossover from Marvel to Star Wars to DC Comics. Storm troopers posed with a Red Darth Vader, ambiguous interpretations of Spidermen and Supermen jumped around.

Little Bun was popular as Captain America, holding babies and embracing young girls in mini-skirts. He was shy by nature clearly but the mask gave him a veneer of confidence as it did anonymity.

But isn’t that the case with all our favorite superheroes?

I visit London frequently and make it a point to take in one or two exhibits each time. Art and culture are abundant and highly accessible in the Big Smoke, so there really is no excuse not to pop by The Photographers’ Gallery on top of Oxford Circus, or the Victoria and Albert (V&A) Museum in South Kensington.

During my last two visits, I saw the following photography-related shows which reminded me how powerful this medium remains despite the growing prevalence of digital video, and why funds are still invested in high quality photography work.

Sebastião Salgado’s Genesis at the Natural History Museum (until 8SEP)

I first saw Salgado’s work as part of his powerful series “Workers: An Archaeology of the Industrial Age” which looked at laborers from 26 countries in different fields – mining, oil refinery, coffee and tea plantations, ditches and canals. Salgado had been accused of romanticizing the Third World, but they hold irrevocabe and brutal truth. After “Workers” came “Migrations”, a six-year photographic chronicle of the “human flood tides set loose around the world by wars, famines or just people searching for work.” I imagine that after documenting so much human suffering and destruction, Salgado turned to nature or what was left of nature’s spoils.

The best online showcase of Genesis is by Time’s Lightbox but nothing prepared me for the haunting beauty of seeing them in all their spectacular detail. Since 2004, Salgado made a total of 34 trips to the Kalahari Desert, the jungles of Indonesia, the Galápagos Islands and Madagascar, across the Antarctic, Falkland Islands, South Sandwich Islands and across Siberia with the nomadic Nenets. Thank god for benches, I lingered there quite mesmerized by sea lions staring back at me (see above), a sea of chin-strapped penguins diving into the sea’s abyss and Siberia Nenet hunters driving reindeer across icy plains. You’d think that his choice of monochrome for nature was a compromise, but I emerged convinced of its deliberative and arresting impact.

Man Ray Portraits at the National Portrait Gallery (until 27MAY)

“A camera alone does not make a picture. To make a picture you need a camera, a photographer and above all a subject. It is the subject that determines the interest of the photograph.” ~ Man Ray, Oct. 2, 1966

[Man Ray, "Self-portrait"]

This is the first major museum retrospective of Man Ray’s portraits featuring more than 150 prints taken by him between 1916 and 1968. Man Ray (born Michael Emmanuelle Radnitzky in 1890, Philadelphia) was a self-taught photographer who came to the medium as a way of recording his paintings, and worked in fashion and later fine art photography. He was associated with the Surrealists, having moved to Paris in 1921 at the height of the avant-garde movement, and kept the company of Andre Breton, Pablo Picasso, Tristan Tzara, Salvador Dali, Gertrude Stein and Merete Oppenheim, taking their portraits and experimenting mediums with their influences. But one of his most important piece of work has to be the perfecting of solarisation, which occurs when an image recorded on a negative or on a photographic print is wholly or partially reversed in tone so that dark areas appear light or light areas appear dark. The Guardian featured a selection of his work here.

Sony World  Photography at Sommerset House (ended 12MAY)

[Alecsandra Raluca Dragoi, Overall Youth Photographer of the Year, 2013 Sony World Photography Awards]

Unfortunately over for now, the Sony World Photography Awards are widely recognised as one of the world’s leading photography competitions. Held annually at Somerset House, which is reason alone to visit, it was such a pleasure viewing the award-winning and shortlisted entries of both the student, amateur and professional categories. As I have banged on before, the DSLR has really pushed photography into a common denominator ground. The full list of winners and their work here.

And finally, I present the wonderful spectacle of London in the spring via my Iphone. Have I convinced you to head there now?

It’s odd to see the screaming pronouncements “WASH! IRON!” through a sea of laundry along a busy alley. Sunday afternoon meant residents were out in the streets, and hanging every piece of clothing on bamboo poles, wooden pegs, thin string that hung from one house to the next. On a beautiful day, it could almost pass as a quirky art installation.

As I moved closer, the hiss of steamers and thudding of the washing machines grew louder. The shop’s plastic shields used for staving off the cold swayed to a soft ryhthm as the billowing steam bumped gently against it. Poke your head through them and the noise is deafening.

I approached hesitantly and began my inquiries despite her blank expression. Do you get mostly uniforms or civilian laundry? Do you do dry cleaning? Why, when most residents would prefer to save money, would they drop their clothing here? Can you really de-shrink a badly laundered sweater?

Her scowl was unfriendly and persistently silent to my questions. After a flicker at my camera, she stared ahead as if right through me.

Soon, the tumbling stopped, as did the spitting steamers. There was only the backnoise of the alley, and her unwavering wall that said, maybe you should return back to the street.

February 2013