The Solitude of Ravens

by Masahisa Fukase

Ravens is one of the defining bodies of work in the history of photography and a high point in the photo book genre. This accumulation of accolades, and the passing of time, have obscured much of the fascinating detail which explains the artist’s pre-occupation with this motif throughout his work. It was not simply a reflection of the existential angst and anhedonia he suffered throughout his life but manifested in artistic self-identification with the raven and ultimately spiralled into a solitary existence and artistic practice on the edge of madness. And all this before an untimely accident in 1992, a fall down the stairs of his favourite bar, resulted in him spending the final twenty years before his death with his consciousness suspended and in medical isolation. Fukase became the singular raven frozen by his camera and immortalized on the cover of his most famous book.

Genres: Photography, Art, Nonfiction, Japan

132 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1986

About the author

Masahisa Fukase (Hokkaido, 1934–2012) is considered one of the most radical and experimental photographers of the post-war generation in Japan. He would become world-renowned for his photographic series and subsequent publication Karasu (English title: Ravens, 1975 – 1985), which is widely celebrated as a photographic masterpiece. And yet the larger part of his oeuvre remained largely inaccessible for over two decades. In 1992 a tragic fall had left the artist with permanent brain damage, and it was only after his death in 2012 that the archives were gradually disclosed. Since then a wealth of material has surfaced that had never been shown before.

Fukase worked almost exclusively in series, some of which came about over the course of several decades. The works combine to form a remarkable visual biography of one of the most original photographers of his time. Fukase incorporated his own life experiences of loss, love, loneliness, and depression into his work in a surprisingly playful manner. His images are personal and highly intimate: over the years, his wife Yoko, his dying father, and his beloved cat Sasuke regularly featured in sometimes comical, at other times sombre visual narratives. Towards the end of this working life, the photographer increasingly turned the camera on himself. The vast number of performative self-portraits (precursors to today’s ubiquitous selfie) testifies to the singular, almost obsessive way that the artist related to his surroundings – and to himself.

Though Fukase has become almost synonymous with his atmospheric black-and-white Ravens, his buoyant abstractions in color, giant Polaroids, and wildly painted selfies reveal the artist’s inexhaustible resourcefulness and versatility. Work for Fukase rarely stopped after taking a photograph, as is evidenced by the experimental ways in which the artist presented his work – in print or as exhibitions – during his lifetime.

Fukase was born in the town of Hokkaido, Japan, in 1934, the son of a successful local studio photographer. He graduated from Nihon University College of Art’s Photography Department in 1956 and became a freelance photographer in 1968 following brief stints at the Nippon Design Center and Kawade Shobo Shinsha Publishers.

His work has been exhibited widely at institutions such as MoMA, New York, the Oxford Museum of Modern Art, the Foundation Cartier pour l’Art Contemporain, and the Victoria & Albert Museum. His work is held in major collections including the Victoria & Albert Museum, the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art, the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, and The Getty Museum. He is also the winner of prizes including the 2nd Ina Nobuo Award, as well as the Special Award at the 8th Higashikawa Photography Awards.

Reviews

[Jeff Jackson · Rating 5 out of 5]

One of the most desolate books I've come across. If you stare long enough at these shadowy images - of birds, birds, birds, smokestacks, vagrants, industrial skyscapes, fetid beaches, massage workers - they'll settle into your bones like a damp chill. Highly recommended.

[Joe Cummings · Rating 4 out of 5]

Staring at animals is a sad act. Whenever I see an old man going back and forth in a park or sitting on a bench watching stray dogs, the fear that I might some day end up that way comes floating to mind. . . Solitude is a form of illness. Ravens: Afterword by Akira Hasegawa

I visited Tokyo, Japan in 1992 and lived there during the summer. I had a wonderful time, and I didn't feel particularly "culture shocked" or lonely. I have to admit, however, that I really enjoyed and even took refuge in raven watching while I was there. These large and gnarly-beaked birds would sit high in trees, and it seemed to me that they were as interested in watching the urban world below them as I was in watching them.

I didn't have a camera with me that trip and wish I had. If I had, I would have taken scores of pictures of them. I even looked for a Tokugawa block print of ravens as a souvenir to remind me of my solitary time I spent living in a city where I neither spoke nor read the language. I never found the right image.

The Solitude of Ravens (1991) by Japanese photographer Masahisa Fukase is a collection of photos taken mostly in Hokkaido where he retreated after his divorce from Yohko. All of the photos are in black and white, and they create an expressionistic landscape of Japan in the late 1970's as seen by a very lonely man. Many of the pictures are of ravens that were taken as the sun was setting or had set that reflected Fukase's dark moods. This moodiness is apparent in the portfolio's non-corvus photos as well.

They're not the pictures that I might had taken during my summer in the Land of the Rising Sun, but they're very moving. I understand them. I also learned a lot about black and white film photography by looking at this collection The short essays by David Travis and Akira Hasegawa that are included in the portfolio are revealing and worth reading.

The proper collective noun for ravens is an unkindness, but Fukase aptly named his volume The Solitude of Ravens ; you can almost hear Lennon and McCartney's Eleanor Rigby as you peruse these photographs. Those interest in the emotive power of photography will enjoy this collection.

[lex · Rating 5 out of 5]

Grim and haunting imagery of ravens (and more) that gets so detached from reality that it almost becomes abstract. But strung together they form a truly moving and powerful narrative on grief.

[Aran Chandran · Rating 5 out of 5]

I’m glad I only came to this book after his previous book on his second ex-wife and muse Yohko. Previews of this period had begun to take shape there and this book carries on the prelude began in Yohko.

This book also feels that unlike the subject of the tittle of the book, the subject is really Fukase and again his obsessiveness, as he spends almost a decade photographing birds but in a very solemn, grainy and desolate way and concluded with him proclaiming he has become a raven, a portend of bad omens in Japanese culture.

It feels like after Yohko left him, he is capturing his inner soul as this Raven, and it tears it apart into a thousand bird flapping away. The coldness of the winter in Hokkaido, and the memories that still haunts him. There is a photo of a young girls hair flying in the wind that reminds me so much of some of Yohko’s wild hair photos in the previous book.

It is even sadder to note that he drank himself to a point that he fell and injured himself and was in a coma for 20 years. The bad omen was materialized.

[Joe · Rating 5 out of 5]

I was lucky enough to borrow a beat up copy of this out of print book through interlibrary loan. The photos are haunting. Many images are slightly blurred, expressionistic, and dark. The essays are both terrible, but mercifully short. A wonder this book hasn't been reprinted - it's stunning, beautifully sad work.

[Brian · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is one of the best books of photographs ever, really in my top five. I have the Hysteric Glamour reprint, and the reproduction quality is superlative.

[Peterk · Rating 5 out of 5]

What a superb dark & sad tale... Blew me away and will probably continue to do so for many years.

[Kavie · Rating 5 out of 5]

Fukase的失落与悲伤需要一种充满张力的表现形式，而在常年对着乌鸦的摄像头下，Fukase找到了他的方式，他也成为了它们中的一员。

[Chris Pasion · Rating 5 out of 5]

Do photobooks count?

[Zander Engelke · Rating 5 out of 5]

One of the first books I read that left me stunned and in awe nearly every time I turn the page. I feel this book holds a very important place in the canon of photography, particularly Japanese photography. Viewing this book within the context of Fukase's life and extreme obsession with photographs paints something terribly devastating. I feel so conflicted on Fukase himself as an artist within this book, as this significant collection of images moves me to feel empathetic for him, yet all of the devastation (a little overdramatic word choice but cant think of a better one right now) he captures is of his own derivation. I like this book a lot :)

[Martí Mas · Rating 5 out of 5]

La desolació i la solitud mai no havien estat representades de forma tan inquietant. La capacitat de Fukase de transformar indrets mundans en un reialme fantasmal amb els corbs com a fil conductor és una obra mestra de la utilització de l'espai negatiu, esperar el moment exacte, i la importància dels projectes fotogràfics. Ús magistral del gra i el blanc i negre en unes imatges que, com més mires, més et colpeixen.

[Catherine · Rating 1 out of 5]

Was not familiar with this photographer but he was referenced in another photography book I read so I decided to look for this. While it was beautifully done & there were several photos I liked, overall it just wasn't for me.

[Ясен В. · Rating 4 out of 5]

The images in Fukase's book carry what any good photograph does - the smell and feel of what is captured on camera. Steeping in atmosphere, these grainy images throw you at the deep end.

[Edan Phillips · Rating 5 out of 5]

As soul-suckingly morose as it is artistically inspiring, it is possibly one of the most precise expressions of absolute emotion I have seen in a piece of art perhaps since Tarkowsky's Mirror.

[Rosopsida · Rating 5 out of 5]

I'm in awe

there's so much magic in this world

[Maureen · Rating 4 out of 5]

Doing anything during pandemic. So hilarious

[Kyle Fox · Rating 5 out of 5]

I heard about this book after listening to The Ravenmaster, which discusses the ravens residing at the tower of London. The author mentions that his favorite book depicting photos of ravens is Fukase's Ravens. This was great and is something that I typically don't pick up. It may have me checking out more books on photography.

[Nicole · Rating 4 out of 5]

i'm no critic as my knowledge of photography is limited, but this was a stark and haunting collection by fukase. i like anything that invokes solitude whether peaceful or eerie. also, some of the pics reminded me of the movie- the birds.

[Katie · Rating 5 out of 5]

I need to find this book again - a friend of mine owned it years ago and it's considered one of the best photo books of the 20th century. The photographer photographed ravens following the painful break-up of his relationship, and the photos are beautiful and mournful. Unforgettable!

[Michael · Rating 5 out of 5]

Perfect for this time of year (Fall). I love the mood of this book—some of the photos seem discordant in the collection, but overall masterfully done. Lots to learn about b&w photography and shooting in low-light situations.

[dv · Rating 4 out of 5]

Capolavoro di bianco e nero "espressionista": un'anima tormentata che si rispecchia nel nero dei volatili, diventando esso stesso corvo che guarda i corvi. Un libro dalla cui profonda cupezza è impossibile non essere coinvolti.

[σ · Rating 5 out of 5]

Stunning.

[Joni · Rating 4 out of 5]

harrowing!