Aperture

Father Figure

The Japanese photographer Masahisa Fukase is best known for his celebrated photobook (1986), a work in which he projected his sense of isolation and sadness, arising from his 1976 divorce, onto the figures of ravens. More than thirty years have passed since the publication of , and it is still lauded as one of the most monumental achievements of Japanese photography. But in 1992, Fukase suffered a traumatic brain injury that brought an end to all of his creative endeavors; it also resulted in the greater part of his photographic works, excepting , falling into oblivion for the next twenty-five years. Considerable scope remains for reassessing what Fukase was trying to accomplish in the course of his forty-year-long career as a photographer. Two works made over long stretches of his life, (1971–89) and (1971–87), are essential for any understanding of his photographic art.

You’re reading a preview, subscribe to read more.

More from Aperture

Aperture7 min read
We See It All
As a high school student in Puerto Rico, around 2005, Christopher Gregory-Rivera grew active in student movements that fought university tuition hikes. His mother wasn’t happy about it. “She would say, ‘Cuidado, te van a carpetear,’ which meant that
Aperture2 min read
Counter Histories
What could an archive of the future look like? What creative possibilities are offered by the gaps, absences, and silences in historical records? How can artists engage with histories that weren’t photographed? How can found images contribute to a fu
Aperture3 min read
Backstory
In Bombay, the restless metropolis that houses India’s twelve-billion-dollar Hindi cinema industry, the 1990s were a moment of roiling change. The cultural and visual excesses that had dictated the medium for the last decade were winding down, but th

Related