I’d heard so many people say, “Oh, you need to use XYZ stock,” or “You just don’t know how to meter it,” or “Edit differently in post.” The advice gets old after a while. No matter. I told myself I was just going to have fun, and fun I had. I shot as if I didn’t care about anything. I mean, I concentrated on composition quite often, but moreover, I just photographed whatever and whenever.

The meat of this story is really about my visit with my parents, who live in the mountains of San Diego County. For those who don’t know where that is (yes, I realize Americans feel that everyone should know where any major city is located in the USA), it’s down in the southwest corner. Basically, it means the weather is epic, the housing market is too expensive, it’s more personal than Los Angeles, the Mexican food is f’n tasty, and it only takes 90 minutes to go from the mountains to the ocean when the traffic is moderate. I could go on and on. Oh wait, the surf is pretty tasty, too. Onward.

In the winter, the landscape was a golden brown. The leaves had dried up, sometimes continuing to dangle from the trees, while the fields turned caramel colors that melted into the sunset. When green flora appeared, the contrast was just as beautiful as the rest of the scenery.

Those hills were sometimes mysterious. Yeah, one could get lost up there, and a mountain lion might jump out of nowhere and chew on your head, but more often than not, the cows would just gaze in boredom as you passed by.

I’d like to show you my parents’ place. It’s old, but in a patinated way that is elegant and offers beautiful views anywhere on the property. Also, the good thing about jetlag is that when the sun peeks out over the hills, it makes for a brilliant start to one’s day.

They’ve lived in this particular area for almost forty years and it’s always a delight to see what’s growing in the garden, what animals peering up from the trails below, and what birds come to greet us as we drink our coffee in the morning or sip wine in the evening.

A short drive away is Lake Cuyamaca, and whenever we head over to it, it’s never crowded and we’re always greeted by fantastic views. My parents and I walked up and down the banks of the river, and discussed the local Canada Geese that live there and how the area has changed throughout the year. 100% delightful.

The opposite direction, and down the mountain a bit, is Santa Ysabel, (pronounced “IZ-uh-bell”) and there’s a fabulous little church there — St. John the Baptist Catholic Church at Santa Ysabel Indian Mission. It’s a solemn and maybe somber setting, as the graveyard next door is home to native Americans, and notably, those who died in WWII. I love photographing these scenes because they offer a time to reflect and think about history, the local population, and maybe how I fit into this world (or not).

And if you keep driving north a bit, you’ll encounter an old dilapidated general store. It’s one of those places that makes me wonder why it ended up like it did. The windows are broken, revealing homes for pigeons that need a place to live yet destroy, inside there are old chairs that seem to comfort ghosts who gaze out to the road and hillside beyond it, there’s also paint which is peeling from years of neglect. Perfect photo opportunities.

These first few days brought a bit of calm into my life, which I desperately needed. Photographing these places made me think of the scenes and nothing more.

My visit lasted only a few weeks, but my photo-taking experience was one that I’m not going to forget anytime soon. I have a few more rolls to show you, so stick around for parts 2, 3, and maybe 4 — My parents and I drove to Phoenix to visit my daughter Gia, gaze upon stunning artwork in a few museums, and take in some spectacular desert botanical gardens.

And as I said at the beginning, color film isn’t on my hotlist, but I feel moments like this trip deserve something different, at least for me. It’s almost therapeutic.

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But here lies my beef with the quote “We’ve all seen Tokyo.” I can walk a thousand steps in any direction and find something truly new to me. I mostly enjoy evening or nighttime photowalks because I’m always hunting for a mood, and if you know me and my style, mood is a priority. But wait. Let’s get back to that truly new thing and what I often see.

The stairwell heading up to a groovy establishment in Jiyugaoka 自由が丘? ✅

Keith Haring-inspired noren near Oimachi Staion 大井町駅? ✅

Vending machine-lit wall art along the tracks between Daikanyama and Shibuya? ✅

I’ll get into it more, but I just wanted to give you a teaser of what’s to come.

As you may see, I’m focused on creating moods and a vibe. What is that? Well, maybe it’s what slide film might have looked like 50 years ago, or some groovy Hong Kong vibrancy. Keep in mind that I’m not stating this is exactly what those things look like, but it’s how my mind thinks about a scene and how I want to bring it to you. One more thing: I actually create these images and styles for myself. This is how I want to see my environment and I’m obsessed with it all.

Now here’s an example of a building that scores of people may have seen and photographed because it’s part of the Tokyo Toilet Project. For me, it’s a red building where a weary taxi driver can pull up, get out, and take a piss. Same location. Different story.

Here’s another interesting location. I have no clue if tourists are interested in photographing this joint, but it’s camera candy if you ask me. Outside, slam your camera settings to MONOCHROME and you’re set! I can see it now. Lots of superb contrasts and complex shapes. Visit the Google Maps page to see what I’m talking about. What do I see? Super-cool compositions and weird color treatments. Fine, a daytime triptych for you.

Here’s another trifecta of images. This is on a Roppongi 六本木 side street, a short distance from Tokyo Tower and the busy intersections where I see content creators showing you how to compose images of the orange structure that’s in front of them.

Let’s go to Akihabara, shall we? You may have seen a thousand images of the area with its buildings adorned with bright and colorful signs, girls dressed as maids beckoning passing victims to get them to their establishments, and the list goes on. Me? Well, I go a little deeper.

When I get out on photowalks with pals and visitors, we might stroll the latest location on someone’s listicle, and that’s fine. What ends up happening is that we find something different, always. I dig understanding their perspective. I like learning what drives them. One epic photowalk was with a pal from Nova Scotia, Canada, Dan Helle. We were able to discuss scenes and feed off the unknown bits around the corner—even in the most popular areas of Tokyo.

A few more photos from a recent video where I touched on this subject.

Here’s the video that was the spark that lit this short article on fire.

I want you to photograph Tokyo. Do it. Get your shots in! Find all that delights you and show friends and family where you’ve been. I’m not saying you shouldn’t photograph the typical places. I’m telling you what I photograph and what drives me. That’s it, plain and simple. I want to show you what my eyes create and how I bring it all together.

So when you hear someone say, “We’ve all seen Tokyo,” challenge them and present your images or show them mine. Wink wink. Nudge nudge.

Thanks for reading Tokyo Heavy and for sharing this article — every little bit helps.
I also appreciate your subscription. Cheers!

Consider becoming a paid subscriber. I’ll share deep dives into my processes, have conversations about your photo journey, and help you with your photo-taking growth, and depending on what tier, I’ll send you a 100-page photo book. Thanks a ton!

I find Japan’s flea markets fascinating, mostly because of the history behind the unique items on display and for sale. And when it comes to the colors, some are muted and others are very robust and brilliant. I often see obi (帯) that have very intricate designs, haori (羽織), yukata (浴衣), as well as various dishes and earthenware that have an interesting tone or vibrancy.

So let’s start from the beginning.

We travelled to this area of Saitama from our Tokyo joint for about 90 minutes to see a delightful presentation of goods in front of Naritasan Kawagoe Betsuin Hongyoin. We were greeted by a few Kokeshi (こけし, 小芥子), earthenware, artwork, and a couple of Ojisan (おじさん), who were adorned with their bucket hats and baseball caps.

My wife, if you don’t know, is Michele Laudig over at Quiet Calling, and I love watching her talk to ladies about kimono and obijime and bits of accoutrements which are on display. Often times, a genuine conversation about life ensues! Honestly, this is why we live in Japan.

She can’t be missed. The curly blonde hair is like a tracker/homing device for me.

Anywho, let’s continue with some groovy monochrome images of the day.

Thanks for dropping by and viewing my images. Using a film camera is quite therapeutic for me. It lets me slow down in more ways than one and I love developing the film as well. I’ve used so many film cameras at this point, but there are only a couple which are memorable and bring me delight like no other.

I leave you with this shot because it’s one of my favorites. The texture, contrasts, patterns, and the moment are why I shoot black & white film. I know you’d appreciate seeing all the color going on in this scene, but that color is just for me.

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I arrived late in the morning and scoped out a few neighborhoods. For me, shooting during the day is good, but when the sun starts to set, I know scenes are going to start to transform into something that’s more compelling for me.

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The places I went to weren’t '“touristy”, but I did see/hear many Asian folks from other countries as well as a few “Westerners” (← I dislike that term. This isn’t the 1800s.) Anywho, I’m grateful there weren’t any people in any of these areas grabbing selfies for the ol’ ‘Gram.

I didn’t use a map to find my way around. I just knew where my starting point was and where my general destination should be. I just strolled for hours, thirteen to be exact.

On my strolls, I look for moods, vibes, and scenes that put you in a trance. I want you to question what’s happening or what happened and make it yours just as much as I have mine.

During this last trip, there were a few moments when I questioned if I was in “the right area”, meaning, WTF am I doing here? Quickly I remembered that I’m OK. For me, solo trips can be a little uncomfortable in a city that I don’t know too well, but I got over all that, quickly. Osaka rubs me the right way.

Sit back, relax, and take in Osaka from my POV.

I’m going to leave you with this lady’s beautiful smile. This image sums up my whole visit to Osaka. Not only did I find moody scenes all over the city, but I found the people to be open, welcoming, and full of vigor in a way that I can’t put my finger on.

The pulse & mood of Osaka is epic and I look forward to continuing my connection to its world of rough edges and genuine people.

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I enjoy a good photowalk, especially in areas that show me history. Itō has significant and vast amounts of it, going back hundreds of years. Itō’s history is intertwined with two of Japan’s most legendary figures. In the 12th century, Kamakura Shogunate founder Minamoto no Yoritomo was exiled to Ito. It was here, he planned the rebellion that would eventually change the course of Japanese history. Wiki info here.

Centuries later, in the early 1600s, Ito was the site of an extraordinary meeting of East and West. William Adams (the inspiration for the novel Shogun) was an English sailor pilot/captain who was ordered to build Japan’s first Western-style sailing vessels in the early 1600s on the shores of Ito. This brief period of time turned the sleepy fishing village into a center of cutting-edge technology of its time.

Whew. This is getting complicated. Let’s jump ahead 400+ years, shall we?

Ito’s vibrant heyday began in the Showa Era (1926–1989), specifically around the late 1920s and 1930s, but I’m going to show you images of the area that looks to me, like it was popular during the 1980s, and 1990s.

Before I get on with this, if you’d like to know more about Ito, Encyclopedia Britannica has a solid overview of the city’s general history, including the banishment of Minamoto no Yoritomo and the development of the city as a resort. Have a visit here to learn more. https://www.britannica.com/place/Ito

Onward.

I’m fond of Ito. The architecture and lines from late Showa-era buildings really made a mark on me upon my first visit and I sometimes return a few times a year to capture images of the area. This last visit was during the day, and I wandered to see what textures laid in wait for me to photograph. The ocean breeze and the call of Tokyo has taken a toll on this once vibrant town.

Ito’s modern heyday was the 1980s, Japan’s “bubble economy” years. During this period the town was a playground of Tokyo’s elite. Massive resort hotels (such as the famed Hatoya Hotel) were created as national icons, and the city peaked at an all-time high of nearly 7 million visitors in 1988.

When the bubble burst in the early 1990s, the “excess” of Ito became its burden. The local economy, once powered by those swanky clubs and mammoth corporate retreats, started to shut down. Even the Tokaikan ryokan, a landmark institution, was forced to close its doors by the late 1990s as overnight guests dwindled.

These days, folks are taking day trips rather than long, expensive weekend retreats that Ito was known for. They often bypass the city center and head straight for Mt. Omuro or the Jogasaki Coast.

So let’s cut to the chase. I’m here for that Showa-era history. And after researching all this a bit, Ito really has opened my eyes to what it once was, what it is, and where it might be going.

Enjoy a bit of history.

I have a couple dozen more images of this history-filled city. Thousands of people come and go and never know what happened here. Japan took a turn in more ways than one because of that history, and I’ll continue to capture images of how it’s changing. I don’t know where it’s going, but I’m headed there none the less.

More images, coming soon.

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I’ve thought about this quote a number of times in the last few days, mostly because a pal dropped Stanley’s name in one of my recent social media posts. I wasn’t actually thinking about 2001: A Space Odyssey, I was just cruising around my ‘hood and saw a building which piqued my interest.

I guess the outcome is brought upon by my imagination. Sure, I could have photographed it exactly as it was with “proper” exposure and without the wild tint and grain, etc., but I wanted it to look way more interesting. To me, this photography style is a very important part of my visual lexicon.

I believe many of my readers will be viewing most Substack articles and notes on their phones. That’s cool, but I hope you can take the time to revisit on a larger device, even an iPad or similar.

I often look up, not at the building as a whole, but how I might see through it or from inside it. A year or so ago, I shot some images in Shinjuku of a scene that I see every single day on the good ol’ socials, but I wanted to see it differently.

Here are a few shots from a stroll I had in Meguro not long ago. How would my images look if I went inside and up the stairs? They’d look pretty interesting!

The encounter is happenstance. The images are not. I know what I want.

I also think about mundane images. Boring. Nothing going on. But what I want you to see or think about is what could be happening before, during, or after the shot. Tokyo is filled with images beyond the POV of a go-kart in Shibuya.

I have a lot more to share, but I’ll leave you with these images. The theater in my head is constantly showing me movies, and every once in a while, those movies play out with my camera and then to you. I hope you enjoyed these frames.

Shall we go to the movies?

This type of location is what I live for as a photographer. Stories abound in an area with this much history, and I only wish I knew more of them. But, as you may know, I like to create my own stories from behind the lens. Let’s dive in.

Those black and white images were shot with a 40mm lens, my go-to focal length. But after that initial visit to Sanno (山王) Izakaya Street, I knew 28mm was the way to go for my return. As you can see, I’m standing in the same general area for these two shots and I had no idea I’d find myself back in this exact spot five months later.

The night shots really hit the mark for me; I captured exactly what I set out to create. In my work, composition is king. I’ve always maintained that it’s the most vital element of a photograph. I can work around horrible lighting, but as long as the composition is there, I’m golden.

As I strolled, it was apparent that most of these joints had people singing in them. Karaoke definitely lights up the area.

I decided to stroll down a different street toward another part of the neighborhood. Honestly, I had no idea what I was in store for; I was expecting more old buildings with a dusting of lackluster new towers. Oh, was I wrong.

And there it was, a long two-story building with at least forty joints where the patrons were singing their lungs out and downing cheap booze to lift their spirits even more.

The hallways were empty, but nobody was hanging outside the establishments. They knew where the action was: inside.

Here’s my latest video on the area. It shows this building in more detail. Such a cool spot.

It was time venture around the neighborhood. Not seeing anyone like me (foreigner not from Asia) is always a good indicator if I’m in an area that’s ripe for the photography pickin’.

Let’s walk.

As I cruised around, I found hallways, stairs, and interesting lighting. The mood was on point.

As you can tell, I like these hallway scenes.

I’m going to leave you with the image below. I found this spot truly incredible. It’s just so Tokyo. You have kids’ bikes, cardboard boxes, and a storage locker tucked into a side alley between buildings, all leading to a brilliantly lit bar entrance featuring some 'booty' on the door. Was the red light a signal? I’ll never know. It is, however, the end.

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I shouldn’t say “overtime”, because in actuality I just gravitate shooting in landscape format. There’s nothing about comfort while shooting horizontally, it’s just a reflex.

I remember when I was about 14, my mom (quite an epic photographer, IMO) showed me how she, and many of her photographer peers, handled the camera while shooting in portrait mode. It’s basically like this.

Something about being able to stabilize the camera on your leg, table, or one’s tub of a tummy, was her advice to me. Ever since then, I never shoot with my hand on top of my camera. I’ve even seen social posts and articles about how '“real photographers” handle the camera (like the right-hand-side image). Whatever. This is just a fun bit of history.

So, I recently decided to find scenes that made me think about shooting vertically. Enjoy!

Bust on over to the Substack app or website to see more. Email might not be allowing you to see all these beautiful images. 🤓

And there you have it. Thanks for scrolling through this partial roll of Kentmere Pan 200 pushed one stop. This film has become my go-to stock for most scenes. I like how it handles the midtones and shadows, which are the most important to me in a film stock; I prefer shooting on overcast days.

See you on the Tokyo streets! —JG

I have a lens that was made about 70 years ago, a Canon 50mm f1.8, which is magical in the right scenes. Swirly bokeh and barrel effect makes it quite artistic. Portraits, flowers, and shallow depth of field is where this lens shines.

I shot JPG and RAW files, but the JPGs are sort of meh, so I tossed ‘em. The RAW files, converted to monochrome look epic.

There’s a saying that I hear quite often from my pals, “I’m chasing the light!”. I rarely use this, but today I was weaving all over the place trying to find the right scenes. I was, indeed, chasing the light for a great shot.

And there it is. This is what the last hour looked like for me. Tokyo is really cool in color, but sometimes monochrome shines.

A must-see architectural landmark in West Shinjuku, the Mode Gakuen Cocoon Tower is known for its curved shape and crisscrossed white mesh that resembles a massive, you guessed it, cocoon. It is a “vertical campus” for fashion and design students, standing fifty stories tall. It’s definitely a great scene for photography, especially when contrasted with the nearby boxy office buildings. I’ve heard there’s an underground walkway from Shinjuku Station that leads to the high rise. However, I’ve never found it and I suppose that’s a whole other mission.

There are a few interesting spots to take a quick break inside the base of the tower. On the B1 level, there is a big Book 1st bookstore and a NewDays convenience store, which are open during school hours, so no ducking in for a sando in the evening or on Sundays.

And my favorite image from the session is the one below. I like how this film has given me some deep blacks and kept the midtones solidly in place.

I challenge you to photograph this building a bit differently than every other image of it you might see. Sure, there are those snaps that you need for posterity, but look deeper and find the curves and angles that someone else might not see.

Cocoon Tower, Shinjuku - Google Map

These images are shot on Kentmere Pan 200 ,pushed one stop, and developed at home with Kodak D-76.

At that time, I was deep into photographing live music, my friends, scenes and situations. All I had to do was compose and push the shutter button to document what was going on in my world at the moment. I knew what I was doing (four years of photo courses did that to me) but there wasn’t much creativity involved. Most of the time I shot how I was taught.

As you can see, the growth was there, but in actuality, my creativity was limited for many years.

As I grew up, the photos I crafted landed in shoe boxes and binders. There were a few moments in time where I shot live music with slow-sync, did event photography, took a ton of product photography, and dabbled with vintage-looking TLR images that I captured digitally (more on that in another article one day). And after moving from the western United States, I moved to NYC and that’s when I began to hit the streets with a different mindset. Even though I was keen to shoot in Brooklyn, where my wife and I lived, I really enjoyed what I came across during my commutes into Manhattan. There was a shift in the way I shot, but nothing to really to take note of. I shot more digital square black & white imagery (and really dug it), and I still enjoy the images I made at that time.

Then we moved to Japan in 2017.

I was thrust into a place that was pretty overwhelming for me. Imagine going from a super cool city to one that was absolutely superinsanelyblowyourmind cool. Well, that was Tokyo for me. What did I do? I promptly started shooting all the things and all the places; Oh, the cliché shots of everything that we see on social media these days — those things, plus all the other stuff.

Again, I loved what I saw and knew exactly what I was doing. I wanted a true-to-life type of image to show the world. No heavy edits, just beautiful well-rounded photographs.

I moved on to night scenes because I found Tokyo to be incredibly vibrant (still do). My style of composition remained (still does) and I enjoyed finding scenes that were new to me and making images that were compelling and interesting. And then, COVID hit. We were sort of stuck inside, but it was nice knowing we could go out to do certain things. Tokyo didn’t have a lockdown, but we all did our part to stick close to home, if not stay indoors for days.

It was at this time that I rediscovered film photography. I was bored, so I thought taking on that old medium I knew from decades ago would be life changing. Well, it was. My photo world changed immensely and I began developing and scanning my film at home. Shooting with film has been a game changer and I had a really good time finding cameras and certain film stocks that fulfilled my need for crafting what I wanted.

I never gave up shooting digital imagery, but it took a back seat to film sometimes. My color digital images weaved their way in and around my socials, gallery shows, self-published books, and popups. But something was happening. I started diving deep into photography from the ‘60s, ‘70s, and ‘80s. I dug the vibrance, the flatness or depth, the grain (some stocks with a ton of it and some with barely any of it). I was in a trance. And as you may have figured out, those film stocks aren’t made anymore. So frustrating. I wanted to create similar work and styles!

Then I went to Taipei.

I brought one camera, the Leica Q. That rig had a 28mm lens and its glass is practically unbeatable, in my opinion. I placed a black diffusion filter on the lens and set out with determination. Off to create cool work! I was in another wonderland, but one with more intense grit and grime. It was grime time. I explored the back streets with an intense need for discovery, not just what was literally around the corner, but metaphorically.

I usually edit all my images on my computer, but I didn’t bring it to Taiwan, so I transferred images from the camera to my phone and edited from that device. It was at this point, I basically said “Fuggit. I’m going to go off on all these edits!”, and so I did. I brought a bit of that ‘60s, ‘70s, and ‘80s film vibe to the world via my digital camera, my vision, and my I-don’t-give-a-shit-what-people-think-about-all-this mentality.

The following images were NOT edited on my phone, but they are some selects that I truly love.

At this point, I recognize that Taiwan changed me. It shifted how I find images and how I craft them for the world. Now I have a new-to-me style. I’ve found a style that motivates me, too. I look forward to finding scenes that might be spooky, dreamy, or mysterious. And maybe even fun. Heaven forbid.

So when you see images that I’ve made in the last day, week, month or year, you can thank Taipei and a vision from the pre-2000s film era. (the 1900s as the kids say these days.)

I’ll leave you with an image that I’ve done the usual work to, but note that one is edited and one is not. The unedited version is the style I may have shot and edited for the last 35 years and the second is me now. And you know what? I like me now.

The main streets of the area are filled with camera candy, but I like setting out to the alleys and side lanes to find colors that are just as vibrant but are tucked away.

Ebisu makes me feel uneasy in a comforting way. It’s hard to describe, but maybe it creates a sense of needed (?) loneliness which hits differently than when I’m in Shinjuku or Shibuya (which I visit often because there’s SO much to photograph). I don’t feel lonely when I’m in bigger neighborhoods, but Ebisu feels transient in ways that touristy areas don’t. I feel it’s a place to go where weary workers unleash their need for booze and food then head home. Sure, tens of thousands of people live in the area, but it always feels like it’s all for show. Hence all the G-Wagons.

I feel that parts of Ebisu look like it’s trying to be something else — buildings that appear to belong in another country, or scenes that remind visitors about international exchange. I want a different kind of authentic, and thankfully, Ebisu brings diverse scenes for my cameras and lenses.

It’s all there — the traditional tea garden in front of a special restaurants, mirrored retail buildings, wooded buildings with lanterns which have been hanging for a generation or two, or the concrete walkways with lighting that makes for ease of travel.

So when you’re in Tokyo and looking for an area that feels like a big local city, Ebisu hits the mark, every single time.

Thanks for visiting. If you’re interested in the vibe I’m creating here, check out my presets located HERE. I like creating images that might evoke a vintage feeling, and if you do too, these are a great avenue for creation. They’re also a great starting point if you want to build upon them. Thank you for your support!

I’ve heard, “Well, you aren’t using current film stocks to make something similar”. I wholeheartedly disagree and I just can’t stand it when the argument arises. And with that, I pretty much stopped shooting color film (sort of). I have about ten rolls waiting to be developed from last year sitting on the shelf, collecting dust, and hoping to deliver some aesthetic joy in a pixellated world.

Enter, my digital images and film-inspired edits.

After a ton of research into film stocks that are impressionable to me, such as AGFA Ultra 100, Eastman Color Negative 5254 (100T), Kodachrome-X ISO 64, just to name a few, I decided to replicate them in some way. It boils down to is this: what do I think is compelling for the scene? This also depends on what time of day I’m editing, how much booze/coffee has been consumed, etc.

I want grain, contrast, color, vibrancy, that “vintage glow from the whites”, and whatnot. Is there a stock that I want to produce exactly? Not really, but I have crafted a few in a way that might resemble them.

Here’s the other side of the coin: monochrome film — I love shooting film, and b&w is my choice. For years, I dabbled in stocks fit my style the most. I tried to get on the HP5+ train, but I didn’t like the outcome. Same goes with a few eastern European films and a couple Kodak stocks. I found that Ilford film delivered what I was looking for — FP4 Plus (ISO 125), XP2 Super (ISO 400), and now Kentmere Pan 200 (ISO 200). FYI, Kentmere films are manufactured and distributed by HARMAN technology Ltd, the same company that produces ILFORD Photo products. Now, more often than not, I reach for Kentmere Pan 200.

Now back to this whole filmish thing. 🫩 I wanted to create a certain look and feel, one that took me back to a time that just isn’t around anymore. I found it after looking through too many photo books and then spending an absurd amount of time trying to craft what I was missing. I finally created it.

Am I trying to achieve what Saul created? I’m not, but I love the mood. I need that mood. I crafted my own style based on what I was feeling at that particular time. Oh, and I added a ton of grain and that “glowy white” and I’m happy with what I’ve done. This, to me, is my creative outlet. I’ve been shooting for over 35 years, and only until a few years ago, have I truly been stoked on what I’m creating. My filmish images are feeding my hunger for those vintage vibes.

And even though, I’m one to shoot a ton of b&w film, it couldn’t deliver the mood I wanted in this same scene. Sure, it looks nice in monochrome, but it’s not enough.

So this is where I’m at. I’m sticking to b&w film images when I feel it’s contextually right, say for architecture. Same goes with digital color imagery. The scene has to hit me a certain way and provide me creepy, moody, silent, dark, and sometime sinister-looking scenes.

If you’d like to try your hand at this filmish look, I have a preset pack available for download. These are excellent “as-is” and you can also build upon them; a great foundation. This also means you’re supporting my creativity and helping pay for my equipment and tools I use to craft my work.

If you have any questions about the presets, feel free to drop me a line. I’m happy to help. Also, if you’re coming to Tokyo and need an insider’s take on where to go, I’m definitely not going to gatekeep anything. The world’s big enough for us all. また後で！

This particular space I shot used to be a shop that work on Vespas and other motor scooters. I like to think they exclusively wrenched up vintage Italian bikes, but I think I spied some newish vehicles there. Regardless, that business is long gone. In its place is a vintage furniture shop and the location is perfect— Just outside the high-rent bubble. However, I didn’t check the prices of the furniture.

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I have the journey from my apartment down pat, so when I make my exit from the subway station, I’m dumped right out into the area I want to be in. Part of what goes on inside my head is whether or not it’s cold, hot, or busy when I get above ground. Shinjuku on a Friday? I don’t want to be amidst the post-work-hour craze that’s on the east side of that ’hood. Regardless, I knew the bar I was headed to was going to be full. Full of what? Creative people that I like being surrounded by. The conversations always flow in directions that are entertaining—mostly lifestyle stuff with a few sprinkles of photography gear in there (which I’m all for).

I used to smoke fifteen years ago, and now it’s tough to be around the cancerous exhaust that so many people create and put out. Nevertheless, I drink my beer and know that when I get home, a shower is going to rinse all that stench off of me. My clothes? Sometimes washed. Sometimes hung.

The bar was packed! Yusuke has some amazing work. He documents life in Kabukicho, mostly, and he uses his camera to capture many things the ordinary tourist, let alone resident, really doesn’t see.

I was able to check out a few photobooks that some friends were looking through and that were on the bar, and the images inside really evoked a sense of sadness, disillusioned cheer, recklessness, and hope that’s probably long forgotten. In other words, brilliant scenes photographed on black & white film.

As I stood at the window, looking down from Bar Shikatanai ne onto Shinjuku san-chome, I didn’t think about the Toyoko Kids, drunk salarymen on the street below, the smoke in the air, or the commute home alongside tens of thousands of folks who had similar outings as me. I just thought about how my photos were going to look groovy.

Shinjuku is a beast. It’s a monster that I can call my friend, mostly because it’s always filled with scenes that make me want to photograph it without regret. The colors are vibrant, the smells deliver a multitude of eyebrow-raising moments, the diversity of people makes it a great place to encounter friends old and new, and to possibly make something interesting, like a photo or four.

Also discussed was what I find WAY more interesting_, the elements and locations in and around Tokyo that won’t be around for much longer. I think about the crumbling paper lanterns, rickety old signs, doorways that can barely stay open or closed, and whole businesses that look like they’re hanging on by a thread. All that brings me to this: A cool mural in Dogenzaka, Shibuya, and little did I know this mural’s days were coming to an end. Now it has been covered by paint that’s a shade of baby-shit brown. This epic piece of art is all but history. How long was it here? I think it was up for a number of years. I’ll have to go back and scan through all my images of the area. Now, this cool piece of art is all just a part of the #historicalbanger catalog. It’s not that old broken down signage on grandpa’s shop, but it’s still history.

And there it is. • #HistoricalBangers • Use this hashtag wisely. Use it for something that you feel might not be around for much longer. It doesn’t have to be an award-winning photo. Just craft an image that tell the story, like “Here today. Gone tomorrow” kind of vibe. In this case, I’m using it after the scene is gone. Sad.

I’ll continue photographing sites in and around my Tokyo home that are often overlooked. Join me in doing so.

The wide-angle image is in my forthcoming book, 𝑻𝒐𝒌𝒚𝒐 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒚. Pick up a copy at the next Tokyo Streets exhibition later this month at Hibiya Okuroji.

I’m captivated by the grime, textures, and every-day scenes that Tokyo offers up, and a favorite pastime is just wandering the streets shooting those things. Often, B&W film is what’s in my camera, and knowing that I can go home and develop the film myself, makes the adventure even more fun. There’s always a bit of anticipation, and I sometimes wonder how frames are going to turn out.

I don’t normally shoot nature scenes, but I was captivated by these majestic beings because they actually stopped me in my tracks. I was standing in a metropolis that is populated by 35M people and I couldn’t care about street photography.

It was a delight knowing that I don’t fit into any one photographic silo. I’ve shot live music, portraits, events, products, street scenes, decaying buildings, you name it, and what was delightful this day, was just remembering that I have a camera and I can photograph whatever I want.

One day, the trees will die or be cut down, but what I like to think about, is that no matter what’s going on in my life, I can create and photograph something that will live forever.

This neighborhood was voted one of the “World’s Coolest Neighbourhoods” in September of 2024. This is interesting and I wonder what makes it so cool? Is it the people, restaurants, boutiques, indy grocery spots? Yes! It doesn’t have the grit and grime that some ‘hoods do, but I’m just fine with that. The charm is not just what has happened in the past, but what is on the horizon. Gakudai has a beautiful future ahead.

I shot these on Kentmere Pan 200 film and developed it at home.

In our hyper-digital world of snaps and scrolls, we need the pause and physical connection that film photography gives us. It can be a craft that slows you down, making you truly see the light, the texture, and the moment, giving a final depth and soul (hopefully hahaha). Holding a negative up to the light after I develop it in the bathroom or seeing a print emerge in the darkroom (which I need to do. Been a few decades) are profound acts and a reminder that some things are just better when they are patiently and physically preserved (or shot).

Shoot film.

Vintage vibes from Sangenjaya, Tokyo. If you’re looking to craft a similar style, I ask for your support, here: Tokyo Grit and Grain PRESETS

Thank you so much! I’ll see you on the streets.
JG