Is photographic art truly art? In fact, this is a subject that has been debated for over 150 years. I stepped away from the world of traditional analog silver-halide photography and immersed myself for about five years in classical techniques, such as platinum printing. Later, during the dark days of the pandemic, I began exploring the photogravure technique under the guidance of a friend. I was captivated by the process—using a hand-cranked rotary printer and getting ink all over my hands. I was filled with a sense of fulfillment unlike anything I had ever known before. Yes, I was thrilled to have become a "craftsman" rather than a "photographer." However, as I grappled with the process—becoming aware of the limitations of my own knowledge and the level of skill required to master the craft—I came to realize the sheer difficulty of the technique. I also eventually confronted a sobering reality: works created using photogravure are often viewed as "inferior" to those produced via other classical printmaking methods. Perhaps that fact should have steered me toward "true" craftsmanship—entirely manual work—rather than anything involving lenses or cameras.
This fact left me bewildered for a time, yet at the same time, I became increasingly captivated by the way the world is expressed through "images painted by light" captured by the lens. In my language, the word for "photograph" is written using characters that signify "capturing the truth"（写真）. I have always felt, however, that this might not be quite right. Instead, I view it as a "picture of light”(Pictura Lucis) —a concept encompassed by the terms found in Latin-based languages. In fact, I am keenly aware that the very world perceived by the human eye is remarkably ambiguous and unreliable. Lately, I have come to feel ever more strongly that the world I wish to depict is not one of precise, documentary-style imagery; rather, I want to express something else—perhaps the gateway to, or an event within, a mysterious, alternate realm that might have existed there. Yes, but it is by no means a world intended to unsettle people; rather, I would hope you might perceive these works as "objects that evoke a space-time existing right beside you." If you could feel even a hint of that, I would consider the greater part of my objective achieved. It was not a highly sharp image, but rather a somewhat soft, monochrome picture—an "image" that had been barely reproduced on *washi* or textured paper. Believing that such imagery will unfold within your brain and become a "story."
