The photographs of Japanese photographer Masao Yamamoto go against
the grain of contemporary practices: They’re small, intimate, delicate,
and spiritual. In today’s bigger-is-better world, Yamamoto’s birdlike
photos feel like tender anachronisms, even though there are few fine
art precedents for his approach to photography.
Yamamoto’s photographs are tiny: Their scale is closer to dominoes
and playing cards than paintings. They draw you close—viewers
must get within breathing distance to make them out. And unlike so much
contemporary work born of the digital era, these photographs are
treated as physical objects, rather than as two-dimensional images.
Yamamoto’s prints are well handled and weathered, enough so that they
could easily be mistaken for anonymous, antique photographs. Where many
artists would take this approach only to swerve the viewer with
thoroughly modern subjects, Yamamoto has no interest in playing a witty
game of “gotcha.” His subjects have a deeply spiritual tone, and they
are repeated throughout his career: birds, waterfalls, Buddhas, nudes,
and other ethereal phenomena.
But most striking is his signature presentation: The artist mounts
his prints directly to the wall, unframed, in sweeping clusters that
often stretch from floor to ceiling, recalling flocks of birds, gusts
of wind, or musical minuets. To see them all, the viewer must move his
body as if he were looking at sculpture, engaged in a subtle dance with
the art. Yamamoto’s other preferred presentation triggers our memory
senses: He piles dozens, if not hundreds, of his worn, palm-sized
photographs into boxes, which we are invited to dig through. This act
conjures countless evocations for the viewers—family photos,
anonymous bins at antique stores—but little like what we
typically associate with contemporary art galleries.
But it looks as if Yamamoto might be getting restless and eager to
explore more traditional presentations: His current show features six
framed prints. They bear Yamamoto’s rich tones and silent stillness,
but not his evocative presentation. Six is just enough to tease but not
enough to explore: Yamamoto has made his way by cultivating a highly
personal style that goes against most trends. Now he seems to be
charting a different course—one that relies on the strength of
the individual image rather than seductive presentation, all the while
retaining his singular voice.