From Yuri Shibuya With Love

Images courtesy of Yuri Shibya

While your typical traveler is still sitting on the handful of visa stamps accrued during that post-college backpacking trip across Europe, Yuri Shibuya has burned through 12 pages of her passport in the past 13 months.

The Japanese photographer, 32, who shoots regular columns for WARP Magazine and Transworld Japan, has a rep in the skate industry for both her editorial (Paper Sky, Hamburger Eyes, The New York Times) and commercial work (Zoo York, Volcom). But her lens truly comes to life the second her wanderlust kicks in. In the late 1990s, Shibuya, who graduated from Musashino Art University in 1998 with a design degree, began taking several-times-yearly trips to destinations around the globe as a means of thoroughly documenting people and cultures.

Though some of Shibuya’s international images have been snatched up by advertisers (they couldn’t be more up the earthy iPath’s alley), the primary creative output for her treks comes in the form of photo zines she releases through New York City-based Printed Matter, Inc. To date, she’s visited nearly 25 countries on six continents, as the multicolored passport stamps attest: Bali. Bolivia. India. Italy. Mali. Morocco. Peru. Puerto Rico. Senegal. Spain.

India, 2001

The Tokyo native, who uses a Contax ST and 28 and 35mm black-and-white film, travels light and alone. (“Then I can focus,” she says.) She spent half of 2007 away from her home city, where her mother and older sister live; a typical Yuritrip lasts anywhere from one to three months. The slums of Kingston, the wind-whipped coasts of Brazil, the overstuffed streets of Calcutta, the most remote and reverent plateaus of Western Africa —Shibuya wants to get her eyes on it. And she has.

Shibuya recently touched base with Theme to explain the origins of an impermanent lifestyle, and how her globetrotting isn’t quite as jetset as it appears on paper—the way she sees it, there’s little stopping us from doing the same.

Theme: When did you first discover your love of travel, and what’s motivated you to integrate it into your life so prominently?
Yuri Shibuya: I was traveling around in the States by Greyhound bus in 1998. I went to Arizona, New Mexico and California for a few months, just with my camera and skateboard. I stayed at hostels and met a lot of people who travel a lot. I really enjoyed that trip; I had never known that kind of lifestyle before, probably because that’s the first time I’d met travelers, not tourists. It was totally new to me, and changed my perspective. I would be...different if I didn’t travel like this.

Mali, 2007

In your zines, there’s a noticeable contrast between expansive photos that convey how crowded and populated some destinations are, and intimate single shots that tell the story of an individual. For example, in your 2005 zine from India, a shot of thousands of people in a flower market accompanies a portrait of an elderly fortune teller. What’s the reasoning behind this juxtaposition?
Probably because that’s how I see things. City and country; poor and rich; kids and old people; light and shadow. And I like to shoot with a wide lens. The distance between me and my object sometimes reflects my feelings. I don’t want to be too close—or too far.

How do you raise money for traveling?
All of my friends ask me this question! I used to have a part-time job. I would save money, then go on the trip. Lately, I save money from shooting for publications and other projects. And most of my destinations are third-world countries, so I don’t really need to spend much money. I probably spend less money, traveling shoestring-backpacker-style, than just living in Japan. Usually, my air tickets are around US$1,000. It’s about $1,300 to Africa or South America from Japan. As for traveling within Asia, I always use frequent flyer miles to Bangkok, then from there I buy cheaper tickets to India or just travel by land. I usually spend $600 a month in other countries. I travel with $1,000 and a credit card.

Peru, 2005

How do you narrow down where to go? The trips themselves seem very spontaneous; how much planning is involved?
I have a list of countries I’d like to visit. Currently: Tanzania, Madagascar, Kenya, Yemen, Turkey, Colombia, Costa Rica, Argentina and some islands in Polynesia and Micronesia.
I do research on what time of year to go and costs, then I make a plan. Different reasons for different destinations. Like Jamaica and Cuba—I love the music from there, and I wanted to see where that music was coming from. I like seeing different cultures and lifestyles, which keep changing and fading away. I want to take pictures and document it all before it’s gone. Someday we might never see hand-painted signs or kids playing in the street anymore.

When you go on a trip, do you have areas or themes in mind when in comes to what you want to shoot, or does it unfold once you arrive?
I don’t really make a plan before I arrive, but the first thing I do consistently is go to the local market. It’s always a great place to see life. Then I usually just walk around for a few days, wandering around town, taking pictures, talking with people. Then I decide where to go next.

Sometimes, I have a particular area or people I want to document. On my last trip to Mali [in December 2007], I wanted to visit an area called Dogon country. [Located in central Mali, the area is home to the Dogon, an ancient ethnic group renowned for its deep-seated religious mythology. —Ed.] I wanted to see the mask dance they perform at funerals. There is a separate version of this performance purely for tourists, but I wanted to see a real one at a native funeral. So I tried my luck. You can only see it when old people pass away, so nobody can know when it will be, but I happened to see one in a village. I was not allowed to take pictures…it was very intense. I was dreaming of seeing it, then I was there. I can still see it in my mind. A few days later, I saw the version for tourists, but it wasn’t the same.

Why do you prefer shooting in black-and-white?
When I take a picture, I care more about the moment and composition than the color. Color film can have too much information, and I don’t need to show everything I saw. The subject’s clothing and shoe color is not so important for me; their actions and expressions are. That’s why I prefer black-and-white. When I find the perfect light and color, I take pictures with color film, but it’s rare.

India, 2001

Have you ever run into any problems or danger during your trips?
I’m pretty lucky; the tsunami disaster in Indonesia in 2004, I was on the coast a week before it happened. Other than that I’ve ran into some problems before, but not big problems. You can usually avoid trouble if you’re really careful. I don’t usually carry a lot of things; if you have less, you lose less. Also, it’s good to know some [pointers] in each country. For example, it’s common to lock the doors of taxis in Peru. If not, someone might open the door and rob you. That would be your fault—you just have to know that. In Jamaica, Kingston is tough, but that doesn’t mean Jamaica is a dangerous country. There are nice, peaceful places, too. I like to say to not judge any place before you’ve been there.

There’s a certain hope to your photos. In one of your zines from Jamaica, you write that the country is “rough and tough,” but your photos convey happiness in the lives of its people. In Calcutta, you observe that the people “are materially poor, but rich in spirit.”

I always want to show happiness, and even in a negative situation, the positive things. When I was in Cuba, I saw people dancing in the plazas every evening. That seemed to be the only entertainment there, but the people looked happy. Since I travel in the third-world, I see people living with poverty. It always make me think, “What is poverty and wealth?” Because I can still see happiness every day over there—but not much over here.

The religious festivals that you’ve documented are fascinating, both visually and culturally, like the annual Hindu festival of Shivaratri you shot in Katmandu in 2001. How do locals react to you photographing their sacred rites?
For Shivaratri, I arrived there about one week before the festival began. Then I visited the temple almost every day. I think spending time with locals makes some difference. People there are nice, they share their culture with anyone, both locals and foreigners. I always try to show them respect, trying not to bother them. I understand that it’s not just a show for taking pictures—it’s a holy festival.

India, 2005

Is your goal, with your photography, to encourage people to travel to these countries themselves, or to get people to thinking about different cultures in the world?
There is no goal for me. I like to take pictures of life and cultures in many different countries as much as I can. But I’m happy if someone looks at my photos and feels something good or makes them feel like visiting. I like moments that make me smile. That makes want to take a picture.

Is there an experience from your travels that really stands out to you as a good representation of what you you’ve learned through travel?
In Ethiopia, I traveled by public bus, which usually becomes a two-day trip. And it’s not comfortable at all. Small seats without fresh air, because they keep all windows closed. They believe that bad spirits will enter if you open the windows, and they are really serious about it. Anyway, on one long journey, we stopped a few times for eating. Usually, we stopped in small villages where nobody speaks English. But still, I was always invited by someone to eat. In Ethiopia, people eat local dish called injera [a flour pancake similar to a crepe] with a few people. Once it’s finished you just order another one, and there’s always someone to share with. I heard people say “our culture is sharing” many times. People always invited me to join them there. That’s a beautiful culture.

My curiosity takes me to many countries. When I’m traveling, I think of Japan. But when I get back to Japan, I start thinking of traveling…it’s funny.

Yuri’s Travel Tips

• Sometimes I get sick from food because they occasionally use the same cooking oil over and over again in third-world countries. I always bring plum concentrate (maybe you can only find this in Japan? Not sure) for stomach problems. It really works.

• It’s good to know when they cooked the food before you eat it, especially at street stalls. Even with fresh fruit. It’s always better to eat it right after they cut it, so you know it’s fresh.

• Every time I take local transportation, like taxis, I never ask the driver for the price. I ask other local
passengers. 

• It’s nice to bring incense. That makes me feel relaxed; I feel like I’m home.

• Sometimes I use the Thorn Tree Travel Forum on Lonely Planet. [This online resource features information, tips and advice from by international travelers. http://www.loneyplanet.com/thorntree —Ed.]

• Bring flip-flops. They’re always useful for wearing in showers.

• I always bring my own lock, so I can double-lock the door at a guesthouse if I need to.

• I always zip-tie my backpack and constantly watch my stuff.

• For eating, I just walk around or ask other tourists. Locals always know the cheap places; tourists always know the good places. But it’s not always the same. Also, if you meet any Israeli travelers, they always know the cheapest places.