Pockets of Attention

What pieces or projects have you been working on lately?
Lately, I’ve been working on a mix of personal photographic work focused on architecture, space, and atmosphere, developed during a two-month residency in Kyoto. At the same time, I’ve been opening up to commissioned creative and candid portrait work with a documentary sensibility, mostly shot on film. Across both, I’ve been thinking more carefully about continuity, sequencing, and rhythm, about how images speak to each other rather than standing alone.

What did you learn (or unlearn) while working on them?
In my personal work, I’ve been learning when to press or, rather, when not to press the shutter. Working with architecture, landscape, and still life has become instinctive, almost intuitive, both in process and result. It feels natural and controlled, yet I’m also using the camera as a tool for empathic connection.

As I’ve begun working more with people, I’ve noticed how different communication is, learning to meet someone halfway while maintaining an empathetic approach so they can express themselves meaningfully through the image.

At the same time, I’m unlearning the need to constantly produce or explain. Some images need time to be created, developed, scanned, revisited, and sometimes even forgotten before they begin to make sense.

What words, ideas or emotions were going through your head?
Direction rather than destination. Attention. Fragility. Patience. Empathy. A sense of being in between places and phases—not lost, but not fully settled either—and learning to stay with that feeling without rushing to resolve it.

Were there any conversations, movies, music, or books that made their way into that work?
Recently, I’ve been reading Simone Weil. I found myself contemplating the role of patience and presence in my creative process when her words, “Attention is the rarest and purest form of generosity,” surfaced for me. It felt like a response to my internal questioning of how to honour the subtleties in everyday moments. I’m starting to see how important it is, especially now, to make space for moments of light, lingering, and quiet attention.

I’ve also been drawn to novels with a strong internal voice, creating a fully drawn-out human drama and maintaining a tight connection to their immediate environment and condition, such as Malina by Ingeborg Bachmann, The Wall by Marlene Haushofer, I Who Have Never Known Men, and The Passion According to G.H. by Clarice Lispector.

When it comes to movies, I’m drawn to films that have a strong sense of atmosphere and stillness, where silence and how scenes are framed matter as much as the dialogue. Directors like Yasujiro Ozu, Abbas Kiarostami, Hirokazu Koreeda, Aki Kaurismäki, Sofia Coppola and Wim Wenders inspire me. One scene from Ozu’s Tokyo Story stands out to me—the stillness of an empty room reminds me of a photo I took in Kyoto. My photo shows the quiet emptiness of a traditional room with shoji doors, capturing a gentle presence and a fleeting moment. Both the film scene and my photo draw attention to small details: soft light through the doors, shifting shadows, and the calm that comes when nothing is moving.

What's been the most difficult thing you've faced recently in your creative process?
The hardest part has been keeping my own voice when photographing people while also giving them enough space to show their own presence and expression.

What is your favorite restaurant and what do you recommend we order?
I’d choose a quiet, simple spot, probably a small local sushi place like あら政, where the food is fresh and seasonal. I’d order something warm, like miso soup or nabe, chat with the chef and staff, and probably end up staying longer than I meant to. There’s a sweet older lady who always gives me extra green tea. This slow, relaxed meal matches my interest in patience and presence, where taking your time helps you connect more deeply and notice the small moments.

If your life were a movie this month, what would it be called and who would write the soundtrack?
Pockets of Attention. The soundtrack would be quiet and simple, mixing ambient, minimal, and gentle electronic sounds, maybe with a bit of an ’80s feel. Hiroshi Yoshimura is someone I think of for this.

Recommend one or more artists you follow who inspire you, and tell us what you like most about their work or their way of working.
Although I admire many photographers, especially in the film photography community, I don’t closely follow anyone in particular. For portraiture, some photographers’ work has been encouraging me to leave my comfort zone, so I’ve been looking at Marta Syrko, Osamu Yokonami, Chen Yung Hua and Ittetsu Matsuoka.

I often find more inspiration in other fields, like painting. Artists such as David Hockney and Henri Matisse inspire me, especially with their clear vision, composition, colours, curiosity, and ability to keep looking at things over time.