HANG IN THERE

Jigokudani Yaen Koen, Japan 2018     

For me, my obsession with traveling light while on assignment started solely as function of my modest gear arsenal. But my arsenal steadily grew, and traveling light turned into a challenge that required acute visualization, meticulous planning and some tough decision making. And now, well, traveling light is my ultimate luxury. Why? It's simple, really - I know what I want to achieve then I know the tool I need to achieve it.  Sounds cliche, but hear me out.

Gone are the days of the 6 lbs., 150mm - 600mm lenses.  While certainly fun for a gear junkie like myself, they’re simply not the correct tool for my style of photography.  My work is not reportage, or at least it strives not to be. My mission is to capture something much more intimate - and for me, intimacy requires proximity. And what does proximity require? A deep understanding of the subject and setting - and an ultra-fast wide-angle lens.  In this case, as in the case of many of my stronger images, my fixed 28mm Leica Q was the perfect tool for the job.  Now, tell anyone you’re shooting wildlife with a fixed 28mm point-and-shoot and you’d get laughed out of any self-respecting camera store, forum, classroom or conversation. Trust me, it happens. And rightfully so... Unconventional? Certainly. Unreasonable? Perhaps. Unsafe? Depends. Ineffective? Judge for yourself.

Last week’s adventure was perhaps all of the above.  Traveling from Los Angeles to Tokyo with a two-and-a-half-day turnaround is most certainly a test of efficiency, if not also a test of sanity.  I knew my subject, and I knew my equipment, and I thought I surely knew my setting...  Although, perhaps I did not.

Jigokudani, portrayed by the world over as a remote, isolated and inaccessible natural phenomenon, the uber famous hot-springs-bathing snow monkeys of Japan are in actuality right in someone’s backyard - bathing in someone’s old concrete hot tub.

Catch a two-hour bullet train from downtown Tokyo, take a 20-minute cab followed by a leisurely 30-minute stroll and you too can witness this spectacle firsthand. The park opens at 9am and if your visit falls on a weekend, you’ll find yourself jockeying amongst multiple dozens of other visitors for position around a single man-made Jacuzzi.  This was a disheartening surprise and obviously a less than ideal situation.

There are two solutions to combat this bitter reality.  One is to stay in a nearby hotel for a few days and play the early-bird-gets-the-worm game along with the I-hope-the-weather-also-works-out-while-nobody-is-here game.  The other option is to get over the classic “soaking monkey” shot, leave the crowds behind, and go explore the surrounding area.

I’d be lying if I told you that the latter option was any part of my original plan.  In fact, this shot is the product of a lot of hard work and planning falling flat on its face. But sometimes it’s that little voice in your head that pushes you to keep searching and keep exploring, no matter how grim things are looking. The strength of this photo is its raw emotion and the otherworldly sharpness of the right eye, so sharp in fact that if you look closely you can clearly see my reflection. At that moment in time, the monkey and I were in the same place.  Somber, cold, and dejected - yet hopeful.   I hope he found what he was looking for, because I sure did.

 

  • AVAILABLE SIZES

  • LARGE: 60" X 92"

  • STANDARD: 30" X 46"

  • AVAILABLE EDITIONS

  • LARGE: Edition of 14

  • STANDARD: Edition of 14