Inside Tatsuo Suzuki’s Lens: The Friction of Tokyo Street Photography
Welcome to this edition of [book spotlight]. Today, we uncover the layers of 'Friction / Tokyo Street,' by Tatsuo Suzuki (published by Steidl). We'd love to read your comments below about these insights and ideas behind the artist's work.
Imagine walking through the streets of Tokyo, feeling the rhythm of the city’s hustle, its moments of tension and loneliness. Street photographer Tatsuo Suzuki has spent years capturing this very pulse, transforming fleeting moments into powerful black-and-white images. In this interview, we explore the philosophy behind his work, his love for spontaneity, and the friction he feels between the city’s energy and his personal emotions. Whether you’re into photography or just curious about the unique dynamics of Tokyo, Suzuki’s approach offers a captivating glimpse into the life of the city and the soul of an artist.
Through a blend of intuition and respect for his subjects, Suzuki navigates the challenges of street photography with a deep sense of responsibility and purpose. From the closeness of pre-pandemic shots to the broader, more reflective views after COVID-19, his lens has evolved, yet his connection to Tokyo remains strong. Join us as we dive into the thought process and personal experiences that shape his iconic style.
(The entire conversation was translated from Japanese by ChatGPT.)
Vision and Spontaneity: Your street photography captures the essence of Tokyo in a very intimate and dynamic way. How do you balance progressing your shooting with planning and embracing the spontaneity that street photography demands?
I have never progressed my shooting in a planned manner. I never really thought about this question, but I believe I always embrace spontaneity. I have really good “photographic luck.” When my intuition kicks in and I decide to walk in a certain direction, I end up encountering a special scene. You’ve mentioned that my photography captures Tokyo in a very intimate and dynamic way, but I perceive all my photos as personal documents. They are straightforward images that reflect my emotions, life, and encounters. While embracing spontaneity, I’ve continuously pressed the shutter when I see something, someone, or a scene that catches my attention.
What I think about is whether that scene expresses something deeper within me, whether that photo carries the rhythm or “beat” of music, which is part of my roots, and whether the photo captures the Tokyo I feel — the sense of hustle, noise, tension, loneliness, and so on. I also consider whether beauty is inherent within the photo itself.
If beauty is present, I believe the photo will have universality for many people, allowing it to stand on its own. Lastly, I pay the utmost attention to ensure that the subject is not demeaned. In principle, I photograph with an open posture, so that it’s clear I am taking photos. If someone feels uncomfortable or avoids the camera, I exclude those images from the selection, even if I’ve already shot them. Furthermore, if a subject doesn’t notice me but I feel the photo might work against them, I remove it from the selection unless there are exceptional circumstances.
However, this is ultimately my subjective decision, and I don’t believe it’s necessarily the right one. What I can do is always photograph with respect toward the subject.
Achieving Intimacy in Photography: Your images convey a sense of closeness to your subjects. Can you talk about the methods or philosophy you employ to achieve such intimate shots without intruding on or altering the scene?
This overlaps with my previous answer, but up until around 2019, before the outbreak of COVID-19, I would get close to my subjects if I could, with the intention of capturing the sense of crowding in Tokyo and the physical distance I felt from others. However, I also wanted to express the deep loneliness that remains, no matter how physically close I got to others (subjects). The loneliness in the midst of the crowd in a big city was one of my main themes.
However, the situation changed drastically with the outbreak of COVID-19 in 2020. The government asked us to refrain from unnecessary outings, and people walking in the streets wore masks and were always fearful of the virus when going outside.
This situation caused a major shift in me, both physically and psychologically. The sense of distance from others became much greater. As a result, I almost stopped taking close-up photos from that point on. I no longer had a reason to photograph people closely, especially when they were out in fear but still had to go outside for some purpose. It was fear for them, and I didn’t want to impose that fear, nor could I bear the responsibility if someone became infected as a result.
As the years passed, that physical and psychological distance remained, and I lost the reason to photograph closely. It felt disrespectful to take photos of someone for no real reason, so I stopped. Nowadays, I focus on images that show broader scenes of the city or more pulled-back shots. I also shoot portraits of people who are not total strangers, attempting to express my connection to this world through photography.
Another significant change occurred when my first photobook, “Friction / Tokyo Street,” was published by STEIDL in 2020. It is a culmination of my street photography from 2009 to 2018, but I began to feel that I had exhausted that style. Repeating the same approach was no longer exciting to me. I wanted to expand the range of my expression. One of the big reasons is that I believe unnecessary self-replication should be avoided, and I want to continue deepening my pursuit of expression as a photographer.
Technical Choices: Your work mainly consists of black-and-white images with high density and rich contrast. Can you talk about your technical choice to favor black and white, especially how it contributes to the storytelling in your photography?
The first reason is simply that I like black-and-white photography. Ever since I was in middle school, I’ve listened to punk and new wave music, and many of the records and magazine photos of those bands were in black and white. So, I’ve always had this ingrained notion that black-and-white photography is “cool.”
When it comes to taking actual photographs, black and white, being a world without color, stimulates the viewer’s imagination. It naturally creates a sense of space in which people can imagine. The real world, of course, is a full-color world, so photography itself is already different from reality. By using black and white, I hope to stir up the viewer’s imagination, allowing them to create their own space or narrative within the photograph.
Also, color can be too “talkative.” I feel that the world I want to express can be sufficiently conveyed in black and white, and in fact, it may only be expressible in monochrome.
Additionally, the presence of the subject becomes stronger in black and white. If I were to use color, Tokyo’s streets would become too noisy. For these various reasons, I prefer black-and-white photography, where the gradation of black determines everything.
Focusing on Characters over Setting: Much of your work strongly focuses on people within the urban landscape, capturing deeply personal moments. What draws you to this character-driven approach?
This is probably a reflection of my own emotional state. Some people may not feel any friction in the city of Tokyo, and many may not feel a sense of tension either. For me, it’s about how my environment, emotions, and upbringing intersect with the bustling atmosphere of Tokyo. When these elements cross paths, I feel tension.
This feeling has also been strongly influenced by the music I’ve listened to throughout my life—punk rock, free jazz, avant-garde music. My thoughts and tastes, which favor dissonance, anxiety, and raw impulsiveness, intersect with the city of Tokyo and create this friction.
Additionally, before becoming a photographer, I worked for 25 years as a salesman. The unsupportive work environments and the sight of people exhausted by their daily lives in Tokyo’s streets mirrored my own repressed emotions.
Challenges and Rewards: Street photography involves unpredictable elements and often requires quick responses. What are some challenges you face in this genre, and what do you find most rewarding about it?
The greatest appeal is capturing something completely unpredictable, even for myself. After shooting repeatedly, there are rare moments when I encounter a photo that just “happened” by chance. I believe this is the greatest charm of street photography.
Personal Connection to Tokyo: As someone who has vividly portrayed Tokyo through your lens, which unique aspects of the city inspire you, and how have they influenced your photographic journey?
This question actually presents a very important issue. The challenge is whether it’s possible to capture the essence of a place if you haven’t lived there for many years. When visiting other countries or cities, our attention is often drawn to things that seem novel or unusual, but this can result in photographs that feel more like tourist shots. I want to be able to capture the atmosphere of a place, to sense it, and to photograph what strikes me as meaningful.
Future Projects: Having captured Tokyo with such depth and nuance, do you envision continuing to explore the city in your future work, or are you interested in investigating other themes and locations?
As mentioned in a previous question, I don’t want to take photographs in the same way or out of habit. However, my curiosity about the world is endless, and I am a photographer. Therefore, I believe I should—and want to—photograph what I am currently thinking, feeling, and wanting to capture.
Recently, after facing the death of a close friend, I started thinking deeply about human life, and I felt it resembled the flow of water. I am currently compiling a photobook based on this experience.
Additionally, during the COVID-19 pandemic, I had a lot of time to reflect on myself and decided to explore the theme of music, something I have always loved. I have been photographing things related to sound, such as musicians.
I suppose I also simply love people, which is why I frequently shoot portraits. Of course, I also love street photography, and I continue to do that as well. When I put all of this together, I realize that my photography, including street photography, falls under the category of personal documentary. I believe this will remain my stance as long as I continue being a photographer.
That said, even if my approach changes, it’s not as though I’ve lost interest in the city of Tokyo. I think I will naturally find myself drawn back to it. As my life moves forward, I believe that my perspective, the way I take photos, and the way I present them will continue to evolve.
Thank you very much.
Tatsuo Suzuki
To discover more about this intriguing body of work and how you can acquire your own copy, you can find and purchase the book here.
Tatsuo Suzuki
Tatsuo Suzuki is a Tokyo-based street photographer known for his striking black-and-white images that capture the essence of urban life. With a career spanning over a decade, Suzuki has made a name for himself through his raw and emotional depictions of Tokyo’s streets. A former salesman, Suzuki turned to photography to express the tension and friction he felt within the bustling city, influenced by his love of punk rock and avant-garde music. His work, often described as personal documentary, explores themes of isolation, spontaneity, and beauty in the chaos of city life. His first photobook, Friction / Tokyo Street, published by STEIDL in 2020, marked a turning point in his career as he continues to push the boundaries of his artistic expression. (Website, Instagram)
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