Interview

I sometimes find myself thinking that. The drawings I used to create and the graphic design work I was involved in required spending long hours indoors, focused on the work.
However, with photography, I press the shutter the moment my heart is moved by something beautiful, and that alone completes a single expression.
For someone like me who loves traveling to new places and connecting with people, photography is a medium that helped me discover a passion welling up from the very bottom of my heart.

When I moved to Germany, I spent my first year living near a forest on the outskirts of Berlin, right next to a lake. Having been born and raised in Tokyo, this environment—where deer, foxes, and wild boars appeared daily, and where stunning sunrises and sunsets painted the lake—was truly refreshing.
I wanted to share these beautiful natural landscapes and animals with my friends, which led me to buy a camera. That was the original catalyst for my deep dive into photography.
I will never forget the shock I experienced when I returned to Tokyo exactly a year later.
Seeing Tokyo after living in a rural forest, the city I had always taken for granted looked entirely different. I was utterly captivated by the beauty of the neon signs at night, the overwhelming volume of information, and the sheer energy of the city. For two weeks following my return, I went out almost every night to capture the nightscape.
When I shared those photos on Instagram, the response was incredible. Furthermore, during my second year as a photographer, I was invited to participate in a group exhibition, and the prints I displayed completely sold out. That experience strengthened my resolve to dedicate my life to photography.

I initially focused on photographing abandoned places in Berlin. In 2018, after publishing my first photobook, I decided to take on a new theme and made up my mind: “From now on, I want to photograph beautiful things.”
I had felt something similar when I studied in the United States when I was younger, but as I grew older and spent more time living in Germany, I came to truly appreciate what makes Japan special. I think it was precisely because I had been away from Japan that I was able to see, from an objective perspective, the beauty of its slowly changing seasons, its natural landscapes, and its culture and traditions.
I became deeply determined to share this “Beauty of Japan” with the world. In April 2019, I returned to Japan in spring for the first time in six years and photographed the cherry blossoms. After posting those photographs on Instagram, I was contacted directly by Instagram’s official account, which shared my photographs. They received a great deal of attention, and it became a major breakthrough in my career.
When I first started photography, I was very particular about expressing the images in my mind through geometric compositions, and I also spent a great deal of time meticulously editing my photographs. Now, however, I place much more importance on allowing things to unfold naturally.
A few years ago, I went through a period when I fell into a creative slump and struggled because I could no longer take photographs.
During that time, I was fortunate enough to meet a world-renowned 90-year-old American photography legend. I asked him, “Do you still have a passion for photography?”
He didn’t give me a clear answer in words. But simply being in the presence of someone who, at nearly 90, still carried such an overwhelming passion without having to put it into words made me realize how small my own struggles were, having only been a photographer for around ten years.
I have come to believe that photographs that stand the test of time are not created through technical skill alone. What makes a photograph endure is something more essential—the emotion, passion, and genuine feeling of the person behind the camera.

I occasionally use manual cameras, and I hold a deep respect for the craftsmen who built them by hand.
I learned that King Seiko—much like the "KS1969," which shares the lineage of the model I wore today—carries a history built upon the passion poured in by craftsmen in the Kameido area of Tokyo, who honed and perfected these timepieces.
Witnessing the precise modeling that revives this historically advanced form in the modern era, along with the delicate metal bracelet that fits the wrist so snugly, I cannot help but feel a similar, profound respect for craftsmanship (monozukuri).
A watch as beautiful and luxurious as this makes you want to wear it on special occasions, like parties, or during life's most crucial moments. Actually, I often visit watch shops to browse even when I'm overseas, and it's quite rare to find a watch quite like a King Seiko.

I feel that the philosophy championed by King Seiko—"The Newest Classic"—strongly resonates with my own way of life and my approach to photography.
It is the attitude of pursuing universal beauty while continuously incorporating new perspectives in tune with the times. I believe this closely resembles what I have been seeking through my viewfinder, even as my subjects evolved from Berlin to Tokyo, and from "ruins" to the "Beauty of Japan."
Much like the 90-year-old legendary photographer I mentioned earlier, artworks and products that truly endure across eras are imbued with an unwavering essence—the "passion" and "emotion" of their creators.
Whether it is watches or photography, it is not about fleeting, "Instagrammable" moments. I believe that the pure, underlying emotion of finding something beautiful is what strikes a chord in people's hearts and is the reason things are loved for generations to come.
Moving forward, I intend to keep the fire of my passion burning, continuing to deliver scenes that will be loved across eras, such as the "Beauty of Japan" and the "scenery of Tokyo," to the world through this viewfinder.