Yukari Chikura
Both of these names, Yukari Chikura and Zaido, have been on the lips and minds of visual artists lately. The reason is simple - Yukari has taken her stunning body of work, Zaido, and turned it into an even more incredible publication from the Holy Grail of book publishers, Steidl. This is certainly not the first time she has garnered recognition for her photographic excellence, and interestingly I was surprised when she even asked me why I would ask her for the honor of this interview. It was an honest and genuine question. To be so talented, yet so humble in your ways can be eye-opening to me. The answer was simple - I want nothing more than for others to learn and grow from an understanding of the methods and process of those who excel in their medium. Yukari fits this concept perfectly. The timing of doing it upon the release of her book hopefully makes it as valuable to her as it does to all of us.
When I’ve done lectures in the past, especially for college-level students, one of my main points in navigating an artist’s life is that perseverance is key. You can rest, you can heal, and you can reflect - but above all, you never give up. Yukari’s story, not to mention the Japanese people themselves, is an absolute model example of this. She is a guardian of the past and advocate of the future, preserving cultural traditions for another generation or more - something that has been slowly disappearing. So for all of these reasons, it only makes sense that I would feel the need to learn more about her and how she has accomplished so much at such a high level. Her expertise and aesthetic are astounding to me, and I find her to be highly inspirational in these accomplishments. With that, I hope that she has a similar effect on all of you. Read on and absorb all that enlightens you on your path.
Bio -
Yukari Chikura (地蔵 ゆかり) born in Tokyo, Japan. After graduating from a university of music, Chikura became a music composer, arranger, and computer programmer. She is the Winner of the Steidl Book Award and her work has recently been published by Steidl in 2020. She was selected as FotoFest “Discoveries of the Meeting Place” in 2018. She won the LensCulture Emerging Talent Awards in 2016, Sony World Photography Awards, Photolucida Critical Mass Top 50 (Winner) in 2015 & 2016, Julia Margaret Cameron Award, International Photography Award, and published in National Geographic among others. She has held 12 solo exhibitions and group exhibitions at museums and galleries around the world. Some projects have been collected at the Griffin Museum of Photography in the U.S., and the Bibliotheque National de France. She was an artist in residence of Rokko International Photography Festival in 2015. Her photograph was selected as the IPA Best of Show in 2013, from the Lucie Foundation. In addition, she participated in the RPS Photobook Masterclass, Review Santa Fe in 2014, and Eddie Adams Workshop in 2014.
Interview -
Michael Kirchoff: What first brought you to the visual arts and what were some of your inspirations?
Yukari Chikura: Ever since I was a little girl, I've always loved seeing art and watching movies. I was very shy and not very good at talking to people, so I wanted to express whatever I couldn't put into words in a different way. I first chose music as my way to do that. My next choice was photography.
MK: According to your bio, you’ve made a life for yourself as a music composer and arranger, Do you feel this has informed your photographic work in any way?
YC: I feel that there are many similarities between the world of music and that of photography. For example, in the world of music, combining sampled sound sources to create a song is in a way similar to making a collage in photography. The word "tone" is used in both fields, and so are both "rhythm" and “harmony".
When I finish a piece of photographic work, especially so in the case of a photobook project, I like to think about its beginning and its end. It is the same with music.
In the case of Zaido, I thought of it as a symphony. In the introduction of the book, I used thin, delicate paper to evoke the image of the mist gradually clearing and the beautiful landscape emerging. It's like a fade-in, with the song starting gradually. At the end, the piece fades out quietly, from a snowy night into a world of complete darkness.
MK: I’ve always been a firm believer that our environment has a deep and lasting impact on our creative side. Being from Japan, with its stature in the arts, would you agree? Do you see any specific instances where this might apply to how you approach making photographs?
YC: Japan has four very distinct seasons. I feel that the subtle changes in the four seasons foster the uniquely delicate sensibility of the Japanese. For example, in the land where Zaido takes place, the climate is extremely cold and harsh, and so people are used to a harsh lifestyle as well. It is a place with heavy snowfalls, which is extremely hard on people, but it also makes for a very beautiful landscape.
Also, in Japan, there exists a non-verbal culture of "understanding the feelings of others", "communicating with others", and "reading the atmosphere". I feel they are not unlike music or photography, which are ways of expressing oneself not linked to words.
Also, the spirit of wabi-sabi is something unique to Japan, and I think this work also reflects the aesthetic sense of wabi-sabi. Wabi and sabi are words used to depict uniquely Japanese aesthetic sensibilities, representing namely "beauty within simplicity and imperfection". While wabi is the beauty coming from simplicity, sabi represents beauty or serenity that comes with age.
MK: During the dark times after your fathers passing, the unfortunate accident that affected you physically, and the timing of the earthquake and tsunami that rocked your home, how much was photography a part of your life and were you actively making other bodies of work to help cope with this darkness?
YC: In the beginning, I didn't have the energy to do anything, let alone take pictures. I couldn't even get out of bed. It was a whisper in a dream of my father that woke me up. "People can die at any time. They could be gone tomorrow...,” I thought to myself. So I was reminded again that I need to live every day to the fullest and not waste it.
I decided to try my hand at photography, which I had no formal education in, but had always wanted to try. I wanted to find my own unique perspective of the world and express it in my own style. Taking photographs made me forget all else for a moment. Zaido, as well as Fluorite Fantasia (Looking for my Father...) which was originally one and the same project, became a work of self-reflection and a way of finding hope in life. Fluorite... is, however, a fantasy with a completely different worldview than Zaido now.
MK: In relation to Zaido as a body of work, and before the book, how long did you actively create the images before editing, and then showing the collection as a whole?
YC: Most of the main photographs for this book were completed in the first year or two. After that, I spent more time interacting with the villagers and fleshing out the rest of the book. I came up with ideas to create a unique worldview, added abstractions and made drawings and paintings to be inserted in the book. In order to add some depth to my work, I spent a lot of time researching the history and culture relating to Zaido.
MK: From being presented with the Steidl Book Award in 2016, it has taken four years to make and release Zaido. Why so long and was the time well spent during its production? How much of a collaboration was this effort, and do you feel that your ideas were made a reality to your satisfaction?
YC: As a piece of work, it's been released and showcased since before that, but it did take a long time to get it published, indeed. I've been to the Steidl production site (Steidlville) four times since 2017, but most of the photobook's structure and editing was completed in the first meeting.
The second and third meetings were mostly spent coordinating small details with the designer. In the meantime, in order to express the world conveyed by the photos and the story even more deeply, I conducted more research and produced and added more abstract photographic expressions and artworks.
All the printing took place during my last stay.
Some of the papers used for the book were rather thin and delicate, so the printing was done with great care.
It took a long time to complete, but Steidl's ideas and thoughtfulness made this beautiful photobook something I will treasure for the rest of my life.
MK: An incredible amount of detail went into the making of the book. There are unique elements to it that have not been done previously. Was this something you had always intended for the finished book, as it seems to be an homage to not just your father, but to anyone who experiences the pages within its cover?
YC: I imagined the book as if each instrument in the orchestra plays its own melody and tone, as if all the elements of the book interacted with each other to seamlessly create a single piece of music.
When creating the photobook, I was very careful to make it so that everything had a meaning, from choosing the materials to the colours I used.
I wanted this book to be more than just a collection of photos to look at; I wanted it to be a book that allows the viewer to "feel" the images. Through various materials, paper texture, and smells, my goal was to create a book that can be experienced on many levels. I think there are many ways for one to receive this book.
When creating this photobook with me, Gerhard Steidl truly experimented a lot. First, through his personal magical recipe, he created a myriad of paper snowflakes. Using a variety of papers, the work that he materialized was nothing short of poetic.
For the introduction of the book, almost like an orchestral introduction that fades in, delicate translucent paper was used, evoking the way the fog gradually clears, giving way to the landscape that emerges. throughout the body of the book, the paper that was used sometimes had a different texture on each side.
To the left of the photos, a snowflake from a reverie can be found on some of the pages, just like the pale pattern on Japanese washi paper, is mixed with silver ink to fully create a fantastical look.
Next to that, praying for the good health and happiness of this book's readers, I put the traditional Japanese paper fortunes that I folded by hand, one by one. Then, for the night snow, it was not black paper that was used, but lots of black ink. Little by little, the snow disappears and a world of deep, impenetrable blackness arrives.
MK: What might your father have thought of Zaido?
YC: If my father was still alive, I think he would have been very happy.
MK: In my learning about Zaido, I’ve come to know how the festival itself was at times close to extinction for various reasons, yet choices were made to persevere and continue the traditions of the past. In this way, it seems to mirror your own life experiences and choosing to continue your work in the face of adversity. Would you agree, and was this a noted aspect of the work that occurred to you while working on the collection of images?
YC: In the span of these 1300 years, naturally there were countless hardships that befell these people - war, fire, theft, and so many more.
I find it unimaginable even trying to comprehend how hard it must be to not only survive in such a difficult time, but to also overcome the various obstacles standing in the way of one’s devotion to be able to pass on this beautiful and complex culture to the next generation.
For me, adversity can be the greatest source of energy. Of course, it's not always possible to turn such hardships into energy...but one has to be strong. I hope to alleviate the sadness of my heart that cannot be cured by reality by investing myself into something meaningful.
Zaido ( For my deceased father…)
Nothing had prepared me for my father’s death. He was taken by a blood cancer before the family knew he was seriously ill. After his sudden death, I had a two big accidents and suffered serious injuries to my face and legs. They seemed fatal, but I somehow managed to escape death. The process of recovery was slow and just as me and my family were about to return to our daily lives, the 2011 Tohoku earthquake and tsunami struck. The whole of Japan was shaken, feeling unimaginable despair. All hope seemed lost in one single moment. As if nightmares appearing one after the other, these new realities bruised my body and soul, leaving me feeling as if I had taken a severe beating. With no strength left whatsoever, I found it hard to even get out of bed in the morning.
On one such day, my deceased father came to me in a dream and said, “Go to the village hidden in deep snow where I lived a long time ago.” I followed my father’s instructions and arrived at a dream place, covered with deep snow. There, an ancient 1300 year old shrine ritual called “Zaido” was being performed.
During the 1300 years of its existence, there are said to have been times when it had a difficulty surviving. It is a beautiful, but harsh ritual. Before it, the noshu (performers) are required to undertake a very strict purification. In the longest documented cases, some of these noshu are known to have gone through 48-day long periods of complete abstinence. From our modern society's viewpoint, shojinkessai (self-purification) seems like a very hard thing to do.
Japan is a country surrounded by sea from all sides. That is why, a specific way of life and culture, unlike that of any other country, exist here. This, however, is not the only difference between Japan and the rest of the world. Sadly, natural disasters such as earthquakes, tsunami, typhoons, and volcanic eruptions are also much a part of the Japanese everyday life. These days, I fear that the culture that has been preserved and passed down from generation to generation through many sacrifices, is sadly starting to disappear. And yet, regardless of how many hardships they have to endure, how many times they have to fall down and get back up, there still exist people who are willing to continue protecting it. It is through their dedication and the great impact it left, and continues to leave, on me that I am able to find a meaning to life again.
I would like to express my greatest respect for the villagers' love and enthusiasm for the local community, as well as my gratitude to the people of the community who treated me like family, as well as to my father, watching from Heaven.
MK: What is it that you get out of creating photographs? Not simply with Zaido, but is there an overriding theme in your work that you feel best represents you as an artist?
YC: Ever since I was a little girl, I wanted to express myself by using something other than words. When wrote my first song at the age of 5, I felt very free. When I completed my photography project, just like when I finished writing my song, it was a soul-stirring experience. For someone to hear or to see my work and have it stir something in their heart truly seems priceless to me.
Also, speaking of universal themes, when I first started working on my first photobook project, there seemed to be a lot of work centered around family that was being produced all around the world. I wasn't keen on tackling personal themes, but I was able to take a good look at myself and create new work by daring to face them.
As for themes in general, I don't want to pick just one, but if I had to pick a few, I guess they would be "despair and hope" or, as is often the case, "life and death".
MK: Was there a specific point in time where you felt that you had found your voice in photography and became satisfied with the direction of your work? Do you ever truly find yourself in a good place with your images, or are you always searching for more?
YC: I don't think I was ever really satisfied with my work, both when I was making music and now, when I am doing photography. That is precisely why I'm always "hungry" when it comes to my work. But if we were to assume there are times when I feel like my images are in a good place, it is if someone looks at my work and feels like they've found hope, or like they've discovered a little treasure, or like they've found a key that opens a secret door in their heart. That for me is a great joy and makes me feel like I've maybe had a reason to live.
MK: Anyone working in an artistic field has matured and grown over time. Is there anything you’ve discovered lately that you’d like people to know about you or your creative process?
YC: When I first started taking photographs, I tended to want to capture a great moment or take a beautiful picture, but recently I've come to realize that it's the thing you don't see in a picture that has the most appeal. I think that what you can't see can enhance and stimulate people's imagination.
MK: I imagine you have big plans now that the book has been released. Is there anything we should be on the lookout for? What about future plans and projects, is there anything else coming up?
YC: Currently, people all around the world are fighting with COVID-19. It surely is a difficult time in many ways, for everyone, not excluding those of us who create books, as we're unable to hold exhibitions or events due to the virus.
It makes me think of all of the hardships of human history, such as war or illness - not unlike this one - and the things that have managed to survive, thanks to the people who are willing to overcome everything in order to protect them.
No matter how hard the reality they face, how many times they fall, these people rise back up to protect what is important to them and it is thanks to their courage and power that I have managed to find a new meaning in life for myself, too.
I am proud of the work that I've put into creating this book and would like to share its world with a wider audience.
Actually, back in 2015, I started working on a project about infectious diseases, and up to this point I've only been doing research, but I'm shocked that we're in this situation now. I sincerely hope that everyone can return to a healthy and peaceful everyday as soon as possible.
You can find more of Yukari’s work on her website here.
You can also find a copy of Zaido at Steidl, online here.
All photographs, ©Yukari Chikura
