A Professional Photographer's Eyes Sparkled Like a High Schooler's

The opening reception for this exhibition, graced by the presence of the master Lee Friedlander, drew a larger-than-usual crowd of fellow photographers. It was striking to see them all, much like high school students, with eyes sparkling in anticipation of catching a glimpse of him. It felt like seeing a hero after a long time.
Lee was also wearing a small camera around his neck that day, and his swift snapshots were, as always, superb. Many people asked, “Can we take a photo together?” and he readily agreed. However, before they could even prepare, he would beat them to the shutter. It was as if he had the blood of an American gunslinger – (laughs).

Lee was at the venue, along with Ms. Kyoko Kishimoto, the curator who also participated in the talk show during the previous exhibition. Mrs. Ikko Narahara joined them, and they began discussing New York in the early 1970s. They reminisced, “We went to see Led Zeppelin live back then, didn’t we?” Upon closer listening, it turned out they were referring to the legendary Madison Square Garden concert. Soon after, Mr. Toshi Matsuo, who shot the cover of the Dolls' first album in '73, arrived, saying, “It’s been a while.” The gathering transformed into a sort of reunion. For me, it was the era of my dreams. If I had a time machine, that’s the first place I’d go. Witnessing this, I was deeply moved, and at the same time, I wondered if we too could grow old as coolly as they had.

The Reception's Energy Shifted My Perspective

The late 60s and early 70s were the era of the Vietnam War. In the photography world, commercial work drastically decreased due to its influence, leading many successful photographers to focus on their personal projects. This was, in essence, the counterculture, and ultimately, it was this work that left a lasting impact. Subsequent generations aspired to emulate this. The atmosphere of that vibrant era was palpable at this reception.

From the moment I first learned of Lee Friedlander, I perceived him as a grand master, and consequently, I tended to view everything he did as classic. For younger generations, the work of artists over 70 might indeed feel like something out of a textbook. However, listening to stories from 1971 at the reception and viewing his work anew, my perspective shifted. I felt a closer connection, as if I might have been among them if I were from the same generation. Much like music, the classics, which may seem subdued at first glance, can often be the most anarchic. In that sense, I am once again convinced that holding this exhibition was a worthwhile endeavor.