Whenever I’m in a relaxing cafe, my mind resets. But the truth is, right now I’m a little discombobulated about directing some photographers. Whether I’m in the studio or at my desk, I can’t keep my thoughts from spinning. That’s why I come here.
Yoshidamachi usually conjures up images of a bar town, but this is a place where you can sip coffee at your leisure. I’m usually busy with studio work and when I try to set my mind to administrative work, I find I can’t concentrate. Yep, times like those, I’m here. I’m not sure what the cafe thinks about this, but without much further ado, I open up my laptop. Besides me, there’s a salary worker in a slick suit, two students…
Speaking of cafes, I once heard, “Good cafes are open-minded.” They allow you to bring a variety of belongings and take up temporary residence without interfering in your thoughts or pushing you to move along. Left to contemplate freely, I recall the words of Shigemori Kôen, a famous photography teacher.
Here’s the story: there was this photographer that hated how people interpreted his work differently from how he had intended. To that, Kôen responded, “With photography, the moment it leaves the hands of the photographer–in other words, when you put it out in public–its interpretation is entrusted to the people looking at it. In more extreme terms, even if a photographer creates work that he/she intends to invoke sadness, if the people looking at it find pleasure in it, then it is pleasing photography, and wanting people to see its sadness is just selfishness on the part of the photographer.”
So basically I recalled his assertion that what people see when they view photographs is entirely up to them. Is that right? Have I not just happened onto the answer to my previously mentioned discombobulation about photography direction? While recalling that teacher’s face for the first time in a while, I sip my coffee. I think Lily Cafe just satisfied the aforementioned requisite for a “good cafe”.
