Kohei Yoshiyuki & Puma Blue: The Sense of Dusk
July 14, 2023 | By: Chris Esmele
In the early 70s, photographer Kohei Yoshiyuki secretly photographed intimate moments in parks around Japan.
1970’s conservative Japan disgraced premarital sex and homosexuality, and the majority of unmarried young people still resided with their parents. At night, public parks provided a handy, albeit exposed, haven for infatuated young couples who had nowhere else to go.
In his series “The Park”, Japanese photographer Kohei Yoshiyuki entails an artistic espionage in which he photographs strangers getting in on private time, in public parks, illustrating a theme of voyeurism.
Despite the clear use of flash you could see in the images he takes, most of the subjects didn’t know they were being photographed. This is because he used an infrared film stock that captures light signals that are unique to the infrared light spectrum. Less perceived to the human eye, those in the park who were getting busy were blasted with an infrared flash unit, exposing a moment, engulfed in details we can’t observe to the naked eye.
Despite choosing this film stock for workflow and undercover purposes, the visual elements significant to infrared photography end up being absorbed with the themes of seclusion and desperation. The photos are ghostly, yet calming. The highlights are wispy, the shadows engulf the subject’s surrounding areas instilling a sense of isolation. The clothing and pale skin tones of his subjects reflecting the infrared flash give us a jarring effect. Many of the photos include voyeurs crowding around to watch the couples, showing the social phenomenon surrounding public instances like this, and how a community of people gather around a viewing experience in secrecy.
In his exhibitions of The Park, the gallery setting would be pitch black, giving attendees flashlights to observe his photos, providing a nocturnal viewing experience.
“I wanted people to look at the bodies in the photographs an inch at a time. But this is an uneasy situation. When it’s completely dark, the whole photograph is illuminated, but the viewer looks at it section by section.”
I stumbled across Yoshiyuki’s work from the singer/songwriter Puma Blue with his EP “Swum Baby,” using an image from the park as his cover art. He found the image from The Park, looking through the internet, series of books and searching through libraries. Kohei granted him permission to use the cover art for a surprisingly small fee and for a copy of the vinyl. Puma Blue, who’s suffered from insomnia and depression had these words to say about The Park:
“When I came across this one photograph in particular I felt a deep sense of loneliness & sensuality all at once, as well as an understanding & connection to it.”
Upon hearing the EP, both artists’ works embody the same feelings and themes. Throughout the project, Puma Blue's chord progressions on his guitar set a bluesy element to his production as passages of a solo saxophone instill a nightly jazziness. The impassioned feelings of Puma Blue's past rouse the register of his voice, wailing his lyrics in dreary. The short, 15-minute project offers a night of somber contemplation, resembling a listening session of old voicemails rather than a full length project.
Swum Baby's performances are saturated in analog warmth, with grainy riffs and vocal recordings masked in hazy signal noise. Such artifacts of grain reflect the speckled images of The Park. Puma Blue's wailing vocals resemble the bright highlights reflecting off Kohei's subjects, extruding from the shadows and imprinting a harsh contrast.
Both collections of work represent people trying to rescue themselves from their abundant misery, showing the results in its raw truth.
