What is Tokyo Forgeries?
Waiting on the platform at Akabane station.
“Art is theft.”
Falling for the single frame story at film school.
I have always been in love with cinema, and have always wanted to be a filmmaker. So much so that I enrolled in film school straight out of high school. The Toronto (Hollywood North)film scene was in full swing and the future was full of possibility. The school was great, both challenging and exciting. Studying film in such a professional manner was intense. Then came the first major assignment: tell a story with a single 36 roll of Kodak Ektachrome. I failed in a terrible fashion. I was not disappointed as I had begun to fall in love with street photography. That new passion quickly consumed me. I would leave film school a few semesters shy of graduation, not due to poor grades or with any sense of shame. In fact, my grades were some of the highest I had ever received, aforementioned notwithstanding. The reason I left without graduating was simple, I had fallen hard for the story within the single frame.
Rainy day shoes in Kawaguchi, Saitama.
“Steal from anywhere that resonates with inspiration or fuels your imagination. Devour old films, new films, music, books, paintings, photographs, poems, dreams, random conversations, architecture, bridges, street signs, trees, clouds, bodies of water, light, and shadows. Select only things to steal from that speak directly to your soul. If you do this, your work (and theft) will be authentic. ”
Opening my heart and not following it.
In the years following film school, I shot and studied as often as possible. Visiting Tokyo to shoot for a month before moving here. Working in Tokyo and shooting every day was a fantastic time. Unfortunately, I fell into the trap of trying to become a professional instead of merely approaching my work with professionalism. Enrolling in a digital photography program seemed to be the right move. I excelled in each course, poised for a career as a commercial photographer. That path took me back to Tokyo and all over Japan. I married, built a house, had 3 kids, and could not be happier on a personal level. My professional life was a much different story. Working with regularity was quite common, unfortunately so too were the images I was making. Technically they were great, which made for happy clients, but they did not fill me with pride. I followed all the rules, but not my heart. Without joy in the work, I began to resent photography and almost gave it up.
Stinkeye near Akihabara Station, Tokyo.
“The only art I’ll ever study is the stuff that I can steal from.”
Becoming Tokyo Forgeries
Tokyo saved me. I wandered her streets shooting all day every day I could. This continued for some years. I was not making any money, but I was so very happy. I was creating more than I could edit. When the pandemic began I stayed home to edit at least a year’s worth of content. As patterns began to emerge, I was shooting the same images over and over again only exchanging the locations. Two truths became clear: One, I was creating forgeries, not photographs. Two, I was happy about it. Despite the failure, I was so happy to recognize it, to own it. To understand that from this point on everything I shoot will be a forgery until it is not. After spending years shooting for others I forgot how to shoot for myself. I have the technique and now must learn how to implement it to move past forgery.
These pages are my Tokyo Forgeries.
