I am having a hard time with Masao Yamamotos photographs. They are aged artificially, that adds to the overall pretty look they emanate. Masao Yamamotots work could be called decorative.
Sometimes his photographs are close to being pure kitsch.
I don’t understand Yamamotos work for
he is making a secret about a secret.
Looking closely at his images I see what I haven’t seen before. Yamamoto approach is a very individual one, his photographs don’t keep to the rules of making a good picture.
Looking through his work is like rummaging through the legacy of an amateur photographer who still has to be invented.
The prettiness I was talking of never has existed.
Most of the time there is a breach, an irritating disturbance, a flaw.
Maybe Masao Yamamoto is telling us nothing about nothing.
But it could be he is just talking about something that isn’t to be grasped.
Or do you understand the concept of eternity,
can you tell me something about the sense of life?
Yamamoto keeps his eyes wide open; never loosing the sense of marvel world is offering to us.
He is like a child collecting insects that are beautiful or ugly, or both of them.
Looking at his photographs, they are offering me a surprise that doesn’t seem to end.