In Pictures, Tokyo

What, was my chutoro too delicate? The ramen noodles too bouncy? Was the Sapporo too refreshing? I felt ridiculous, muttering pejoratives toward myself as self-loathing started to creep in. For some reason I was in a pissy mood that I had no business entertaining. Maybe, I thought, a smoke filled room, two fingers worth of Japanese whiskey, and a good playlist would set me right.

En route to a listening bar I passed through Shibuya Crossing. As the lights turned green a full spectacle was on display. People from all sides of the intersection sprinted toward the center of their respective crosswalks before stopping to pose for photos. One couple had quite the performance - the woman jumped into the man’s arms and he twirled her around as her outstretched hand clutched her phone.

It’s a surreal thing, being a tourist in a place consumed by tourism. Consumed in all ways, on the internet before you get there and on the streets while you’re there. Before I stepped foot in Tokyo for the first time, I’d already seen its alleyways, train stations, ramen counters, and neon signs thousands of times.

We’re all implicated in the consumption, of course. The night before, I went thirty minutes out of my way to photograph the Uonami Fish Bar because I’d convinced myself every other image I’d made in Tokyo was hot garbage and maybe this one would be different. It was a known entity, something even I couldn’t really fuck up. The flip side is that it’s one of the most photographed places in the city and hardly an interesting photo - I knew exactly where I’d stand before I got there. So I understood the twirling couple a little too well.

I was right about the listening bar. Though technically I needed a second pour to realize my frustration had less to do with Tokyo than myself. This was my second trip to Japan and I still wasn’t sure what I wanted to say about it. Why did I feel the need to say anything at all? For content, I suppose. But every time I peered through the viewfinder, I felt like I was competing with an image already made.

Tokyo is intimidating because it exists in a strange paradox. It’s one of the most visually interesting places I’ve ever visited, yet also one of the most familiar. We’ve already seen so much of it. Thousands of photographs, videos, and blog posts have turned entire neighborhoods into something resembling collective memory. All that documentation leaves you with an uncanny feeling, almost as if you’ve been there before.