Keita Noguchi

FLOWER/Uncouscious beauty

-It was 2016 in Qingdao, China. I was sinking into a large cushion in the sunroom of a friend's store, watching the shadows of the leaves swaying as the sun's rays filtered through the acrylic ceiling. I was trying to turn away from the loneliness of living abroad and the impatience of not having a job. Until then, I had been taking pictures of flowers that bloomed modestly on the side of the road.It was as if they didn’t want to be found.

Suddenly, I thought of photographing them on the ceiling of the sunroom.

The photos that came out of the developing process showed transparent, straight flowers that I had never seen before. I honestly felt that they were unconscious and beautiful. The photos gave me back a little confidence and dramatically speaking even a ray of hope. I felt as if the flowers were telling me that life is not something to be dressed up.

A few years later, I started photographing flowers again in Japan. This time, while shooting, I felt something was missing. I felt an obsessive need to capture the same composition and the same size, and I also felt a sense of urgency to somehow create something from it. Looking back, there were more and more things I couldn't do or had to give up, and I unconsciously imposed a lot of restrictions on myself.

The camera I use blurs the image if I get closer than one metre to the object, so one metre is the limit distance at which I can take a clear and large image of the object. I was stuck there, unable to move. One day, I decided to take a picture at the size I wanted to see it. Forgetting the limitations of the equipment and the stereotypes I had, I decided to take a picture at the size I wanted to see it. The result was a large, blurry photo of a small flower about 5 cm in diameter. It was a picture of freedom and unchanging beauty. At that moment, I realised that I was actually creating my own limitations, not by society or circumstances, and was stuck in a state of inconvenience. Somewhere along the way, I forgot the excitement of first discovering the beauty of unconsciousness, and I was desperately trying to consciously cut out the flowers, but I think photography taught me that I was at the opposite end of the spectrum from the essential unconsciousness of flowers.

Even now, when I look at a flower that is clearly and dignifiedly photographed or one that stands in a blur, I feel that there is indeed an unconscious beauty there, and I am being asked if I can find it today.

FLOWER #307

FLOWER #301

FLOWER #307

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