For those of us who are unable to hot-foot it half-way across the globe, to catch Steve’s current exhibition in Kyoto, our lovely friend Keiko Kurata has very kindly offered to be our (quiet) eyes and ears.
Here is a short film she made of the installation, when she visited last weekend.
You wait 35 years for a SJ photo exhibition, only for 3 of them to turn up all at once 🙂
Steve last officially exhibited his photographic work at The Photographers’ Gallery, (just off Oxford Street, in London) in October 1983. Tomorrow (13th April) sees the opening of a small-scale installation at the ISETAN store (6F) in Kyoto Station. Mainly featuring prints from his 2015 book, “through a quiet window”, the exhibition runs for a month, ending on 13th May.
As the Kyoto installation ends, 2 further exhibitions are scheduled to take place, half-a-world away, in Nova Scotia and Ontario. The first takes place at Cape Breton University Art Gallery in Sydney, Nova Scotia (11th May – 6th July) and this will then move on to the Carnegie Gallery in August (final dates and time TBC)
Those of us not fortunate enough to have the opportunity to visit any of these current installations (and I really am not at all bitter that I returned from a visit to Japan a mere 20 days ago. Oh no, not bitter at all. Really. Not. Bitter.) will just have to hope that other galleries and curators, slightly closer to home, will be encouraged to offer Steve the chance to extend his run of exhibitions.
Of course, failing that, there’s always the fact that we can actually buy copies of these gorgeous images, (as well as the “through a quiet window” book) direct from the man himself, and create our very own, small-scale exhibitions in our homes. That’s what I’ve done. 🙂
It is now a full 10-years since the smoking ban came into force in England – following those which had been implemented a full 18-months previously across Scotland, Ireland and Wales – and it is now almost impossible to remember just quite how ubiquitous that most anti-social of habits once was, in our daily lives. I recall visiting Ireland in 2006, a few months after the ban had been introduced there, and wondering why every bar I visited smelt like it had recently been newly varnished; was there an annual ‘re-decorate the pubs’ festival, I had been previously unaware of? For, upon entering each and every hostelry on that trip, the heady combination of cleaning products, stale beer and the deadly waft of a thousand disintegrating urninal-cakes, produced an acidic, oily aroma – which had been so cleverly masked by the over-powering stench of tobacco, and was suddenly all too obvious. It really wasn’t that pleasant.
When I think back to my formative years, cigarettes where everywhere. My dad was the only adult I knew, who didn’t smoke. My mum smoked, all of their friends smoked, my four brothers all smoked. Interviewers on TV smoked, musicians smoked on stage, magazines were full of photos of the latest pop-stars, models and actors, staring moodily at the camera, with a cigarette dangling provocatively from their lip-sticked pouts.
Unsurprisingly, I started to smoke. At school during breaks, we’d stand outside the staff room and watch all of the teachers get settled in their chairs and start puffing away, then nick round the back of the science-block, and spark up a cheeky Player’s No. 6. When I went to uni, two of my lecturers would smoke all the way through classes, although we weren’t allowed to (ghastly double standards!) and one of my strongest memories of those hedonistic days, is waking up in the early hours of the morning, with my face buried in my pillow, with the stench of a thousand nightclub cigarettes clinging to my hair, clothes and bed. The thought of it turns my stomach now, but at the time, it seemed so normal.
In 1981, at the tender age of 13, I was lucky enough to see JAPAN in concert. It was my first ever gig, and I’d love to be able to recount every single moment of the show; however, my abiding memory of the evening, is of standing on a raised step, by the side of the stage (right up next to the speakers, which made my ears bleed during Canton!) and watching with amazement, as the smoke rose from the top of the 2,000 strong audience, and was caught up in the lights emanating from the stage. It was trippy and beautiful. Standing in the Great Hall, at Lancaster University, surrounded by glamorous beings, dressed in their finery and puffing away on their Gitanes – and all within pouting distance of my favourite band – was utterly momentous and life-defining. Despite all of the messages which clearly stated that smoking was bad for you, I fell for the hype. It was glamorous; it was cool; it was sophisticated. It was grown-up, and that is what I wanted.
And blimey, those JAPAN boys could smoke. And then some. There were so many photos of them, posing beautifully, with cigarettes clamped between their lips, or in between their fingers. I know it was the norm at the time, but with hindsight, as immaculate as they all looked, I can’t help but think they must’ve bloody REEKED! We all did.
Now, I am the last person to encourage anyone to smoke, or to glamorise this most anti-social of habits, but when I sit here now and look back at all of these wonderful images I still can’t help but think that they all look so freaking cool. It’s sheer madness, I know. I’m not 15 and easily manipulated, but…..well, take this photo of Mick, in a hotel room in Leeds, as an example. With the blonde shock of spikes and the filterless fag dangling dangerously from his jutting lips, doesn’t he just appear to be the most exotic and intriguing person who ever bestrode the planet?
When I first started this blog, I invited people who had bought any of Steve’s prints to contribute, and Adam Howard did just that. This was one of the ones he owned and he admitted to having mixed feelings about the inclusion of the cigarette. “My family bought (it for) me. At the time I thought it was an odd choice as we are all ardent non-smokers, but I can’t complain as I did leave it up to their discretion. I’ve grown to appreciate the picture over time, and the whole smoking thing was very ‘Mick’ I suppose.” Adam also said he had initially felt a bit uncomfortable with the image, due to Mick’s cancer diagnosis and untimely death. However, as he quite rightly stated, this IS a very Mick pose and no amount of revisionism, in the face of his sad passing, will alter that fact.
In fact, so strongly do some of us associate Mick with his smoking habit, that when I asked JAPAN-fan extraordinaire, Keiko Kurata, about her favourite SJ photos of Mick one of the ones she chose was this one…..
Her reasoning was simple and logical: “when I see Gitanes, I always think of Mick …. and Steve knew that Bass+Gitanes = Mick”.
You really can’t argue with that, can you? 🙂
Thankfully, the remaining members have now all kicked the habit; admittedly, some of them rather more recently than others. In fact, Steve has even suggested that he wasn’t ever really a serious smoker, despite the hordes of photographic evidence to the contrary. “I was surrounded by smokers therefore it was easy to grab one, but it wasn’t really for me. I’m not a smoker despite how it appears sometimes in those early photos.”
To be fair, he may have a point – that cigarette isn’t even lit!
Now, I cannot emphasise enough, how much I dislike cigarettes – and I truly hope that no-one reading this thinks that I am trying to glamorise smoking and make it seem like a GOOD thing to do. I really am not. However, I would be lying if I didn’t admit that one of my all-time favourite shots – which resulted from the click of Steve’s A1 shutter-button -is the utterly sublime photo of Ryuichi Sakamoto, which graces the top of this page. And, like Adam Howard, I too feel horribly conflicted with my absolute love of this image.
We all know that Ryuichi was diagnosed with throat cancer, a couple of years ago. Certain cancers (but not all) are undoubtedly linked to smoking, and throat cancer is up there at the top of that list. Thankfully, he is now in full remission following extensive treatment, but it still feels a bit odd (and not a little warped) to wax-lyrical about a photograph which graphically represents something so dangerous and harmful.
However, the truth of the matter is that this photo also represents who he was, at that moment in time. When we look back on these images from nearly 4-decades ago, we have to remember that attitudes were different. This was a time when smoking was far more acceptable and seemingly ubiquitous – and I am really sorry to admit this, but I still think they all look really, really cool.
Non-UK residents will have to excuse me if I am being specifically Britain-centric today, but…..blimey, hasn’t it been hot? You see, us Brits get all excited when the big, yellow glare-ball comes out; then after about 15-minutes, we all start moaning about how “it’s too hot to be stuck in an office” or “it’s fine if you’re on holiday but try sitting on the #42 bus to Preston” and “it’s not the same as heat in the Med” – along with other such nonsense. However, it really has been particularly toasty over the last few days, and this has led to me spending most of my time, lounging around in a bikini and sarong, drinking far too many glasses of Campari Spritz and wondering why I haven’t written any posts on the blog for ages.
The answer to that is far too long and dull for me to bore you with, but at least I feel slightly more motivated, than of late. However, now that I am sitting here, keyboard at the ready, what on earth am I going to write about? Well, whilst I was wilting in the heat, over the weekend, I remembered a couple of ideas I had for posts many moons ago, which never actually made it to fruition. So, because I am a bit lazy, I thought I’d dig one of those out from the old archive, spruce it up a bit and get the blog-ball rolling again. And, considering the recent spell of tropical weather, this one is sort of in keeping with the theme.
As Ian Astbury once bellowed: “hot, sticky scenes; you know what I mean?”.
Well, no, not really; but here are some photos Steve took, featuring the band looking a tad toasty.
When Steve first published this shot of Mick and David, from a trip to Thailand in 1981, I was rather taken aback. Firstly, as Steve often shot with b&w film, and I was so used to seeing mainly monochrome images, his colour photos can sometimes seem to be unnaturally garish – almost too colourful, I suppose? It wasn’t just that, though. The photo positively oozes tropical clamminess. Mick, with his Cypriot heritage and horrific Hawaiian shirt, looks (ironically) cool as the proverbial cucumber; but, David? Well, let’s just say, that this was the first time I can remember clocking an image of him (from this era, at least) looking like an everyday kind of bloke. Seemingly devoid of make-up, his skin a bit pink and flushed, he looks oddly and uncharacteristically flustered, but also just so normal. I really liked it.
Taken during the same trip (same hideous shirt on Mick, but Dave had brought a spare), this image – which has been shared umpteen times on Tumblr and FB, and seems to make a certain kind of JAPAN fan sigh wistfully – suggests that a cool drink alongside the banks of the river, makes for altogether a less uncomfortable experience. The band spent a week in Thailand, after their promoter got the dates of their show confused, and they had time to just enjoy themselves (and the heat) before they headed back to the UK.
This visit to Thailand, which followed the band’s only Japanese live dates that year, in February 1981, also provided the inspiration for Steve’s first foray into photographing specifically for a record cover. The single was The Art of Parties, and he wanted to try to capture that “sweaty and unkempt look” – admittedly a massive departure, style-wise, for the band, but seemingly in keeping with the feel of the music, and the repeated “I’m burning” refrain of the lyrics. Although, as Steve said in Anthony Reynolds’ A Foreign Place’, “I have no idea what it has to do with any art of any parties” 🙂
The photos were taken in Mick’s Stanhope Gardens flat, a bucket of water on hand to give the impression of tropical humidity…….and resulted in the beautifully captured portraits of each of the members of ‘japan’, which grace the cover. These pictures were a million miles way from the perfectly sculpted images we had been used to seeing of the band; bear in mind that, only a few months earlier, they had released Gentlemen Take Polaroids, with the icily iconic shot of a heavily made-up Sylvian, looking almost otherworldly. And yet, here we see them in just a dash of eye-liner, looking sultry, sweaty and dishevelled. Marvellous stuff – and exactly the perfect way to confound the critics. Again.
art of parties – alternative composite
Compare these photos, as stylised as they are, with the images we are used to seeing of the band. Even though Steve was “on the inside” and therefore able to take rolls & rolls of film of the his friends in more relaxed mode, the majority of even his shots, show them looking cool, classy and composed. No dress-down Fridays, for this lot. Even when they were on the road, driving from London to Cornwall for the opening night of a tour, in the middle of a British winter, the band manage to pull-off looking remarkably coiffed. These images couldn’t be further away from the tropical, techni-colour of the Thailand shots, could they?
Maybe it is because I grew up in the north of England, during the 1970s and early 80s, but I have never felt particularly drawn to happy, summery music and imagery. JAPAN never suggested flowery meadows and long, sunlit evenings, to me. When I think of JAPAN, I tend to think of autumn and winter. Of long dark nights. Their music, and their image I suppose, was more intense and therefore far more interesting to the teenaged me. It still is. Which goes some way to explaining why I like Steve’s photography, so much. Yes, he was the drummer in my favourite band; but he also managed to reflect a sense of what I was yearning for, at a time when I was most easily impressed. Life did feel colder and certainly more monochrome back then. Possibly because the only times I ever saw JAPAN live, was in the middle of winter, and those are my strongest memories from that time? Who knows.
JAPAN may have been at the forefront of the move away from the dull and dank past; after all they were daringly colourful in their atire, with their perfectly made-up faces and hair, but they did it without the dreadful brashness of others. As they have often said, they lived that every day, they didn’t just pile the panstick on for the photoshoots.
So, how wonderfully refreshing, and occasionally hilarious, to see the odd photo of David looking a bit flustered in the tropical heat on a Bangkok evening. How lovely to see Mick, with massive shades clamped to his face, wearing a gaudy shirt and showing off his natural tanning ability. How exciting to see alternative shots from the AoP photo-shoot, with all the band looking sultry and sweaty (albeit in Kensington) whilst trying to recreate the humidty of their recent Thailand sojourn.
As is usual with a British heatwave, I imagine it’ll all be over by tomorrow, what with it being mid-summer, and all. In which case, we can all get back to our normal lives again, and start moaning about the rain.
All of the photos are available to purchase from Steve’s imageshop
For the last couple of years, I have written a post on 4th January to mark Mick’s passing. This year, I am not sure that I have anything more to add. I think everything has already been said. Instead, it feels appropriate to simply share some of the new images of Mick, which Steve has kindly published over the last 12 months.
Steve once said he reckoned he could post a new photo of Mick, every day for 2 years, and still have some left over. Let’s just hope he continues to do so, and allow us to revel in the joy of seeing some previously hidden gems.
For those who may have missed the previous ‘i’ll be here dreaming’ posts, they can be found here:
TMK are having their annual event to remember Mick and would like everyone to join in, and share their memories of him. Please join the discussion and add your own favourites – let’s all try to remember Mick as the vibrant and passionate man he was, rather than merely mourn his loss.
I have been musing long and hard this week over the strange world of the avid music collector. This has been influenced by a number of factors, not least the rather fabulous experience we had last week, when Steve & Richard announced a ‘flash sale’ of some of the remaining (and hard to come by) JBK stock via their bandcamp page. There was an almighty virtual scrabble as fans desperately tried to grab themselves a signed copy of the ‘medium sampler’, along with ‘seed’ and ‘playing in a room with people’. Included in the price of the CDs/downloads was the added bonus of the live JBK gig filmed at the Astoria in April 1997, which we have waited a long time to get our hands on, and this created a huge amount of excited conversation on the various Japan/JBK/Jansen/Barbieri facebook pages. It also highlighted, once again, just how avid some people are when it comes to getting every single version of every single release, regardless of whether there are any discernible differences. As someone who is, at best, a half-hearted collector of music memorabilia, I am fascinated by the people who go the whole hog, as it were.
My own collecting has been – to use the old football cliche – very much a game of two halves and can be split into two distinct categories; ‘back in the day’ and ‘mid-life crisis’. My former collection was created in the early 80s when, as an obsessed, teenaged Japan fan with a part time job and no overheads, I spent all my spare cash on every new release (7″, 12″, picture disc, Japanese imports etc) and I would buy every magazine (and sometimes multiple copies) which featured any of the band members.
Fortunately, other than chucking away a lot of posters and bootleg cassettes during a house move and selling a few rarer items when I first became aware of ebay (*sad face*) I kept hold of most of this collection; and I have been adding to it now for the last few years, when I entered the ‘mid-life crisis’ phase of collecting.
I tend to limit my purchases to Jansen/Barbieri related items and some of the more obvious Japan releases, and I am as guilty as the next person when it comes to coveting all those lovely Japanese releases, complete with their sexy obi-strips and added extras. However, seeing some of the photographs of some people’s vast collections puts my feeble attempts to shame, and hearing some of the stories and anecdotes about the lengths folk have gone to secure certain items, is utterly mind-boggling and ofteen highly entertaining.
Obviously, it isn’t just the recorded music which appeals to collectors; there have been sales of items of clothing, instruments and photographs which have roused the latent collector in many of us over the last few years. Recently, Steve offered some test prints for sale on ebay, along with a couple of old cymbals and a drum, all of which went for pretty astonishing prices. When something unique or personalised comes along, then competition is pretty fierce out there and the prices can soon rocket beyond most people’s range. Fortunately though, for those people who don’t have massive amounts of spare cash lying around, but who would still like to invest in something other than the latest download or physical release, there is the prospect of owning one of Steve’s prints to look forward to.
Since starting this blog, I have been amazed by just how many people have taken the plunge and joined the Jansen Print Owners Club™ – we are a select breed but our numbers are growing on a weekly basis! With the publication of ‘through a quiet window’ the number of prints available to purchase suddenly increased 10 fold and with the this has come the rise of ‘serious collector’ – those of us who are not content with just one, or possibly two, of Steve’s iconic shots of his band-mates…..it can become quite addictive let me tell you.
One such person, who has surpassed even the most ardent admirer of Steve’s photography (i.e. me!) is Seymen from Turkey. Some of you will recall that he contributed a piece to the blog last year, when he was the proud owner of a mere 10 of Steve’s prints. Well my friends, let me tell you…since then Seymen has added a further 6 to his collection. Yep, he is now the proud owner of 16 of Steve’s signed, limited edition prints. Blimey.
I shall leave it to him to explain just why he is such a fan:
I’m starting with one word… “why?”
“Why” I love Mr. Jansen’s photography?
While i was buying my first two prints by the help of dear Joseph from Steve’s team, i can able to answer this simple question: “Cause they are great…” Japan was one of my fave band from the 80s and, “hey”, their drummer is also a brilliant photographer. What a great chance for me… A great musician who also take photographs from one of my fave band… Its a perfect chemistry.
So, all started after this simplicity…I was pretty sure i couldn’t stop after my first purchases. Yes, i was right, i just couldn’t…I can find everything what i need when i look the whole details of each Mr. Jansen’s photographs.
I can see colour even it is a black & white frame. I can see his naive, young passion. I can see humour, I can see tension, I can see anger.
I can see both Japan’s great days and also I can see Japan’s fading terrible future for their beloved fans… I can see a good band’s splitting…I couldn’t call myself collector… even after, I so far have 16 Jansen prints… I do not know, how can I call myself.
All i can say, I’m doing what i love… Steve Jansen is a great photographer for me. Yes, he is not a big name at photography. But who cares, I love his way of framing, his way of looking around, his way of documenting a band, his band mates.
Thank you Mr. Jansen… Thanks a lot to you for opening a very special part of your life to us. Thank you indeed.”
And thank you Sey, for sharing your thoughts with us!
Obviously, Seymen isn’t the only person who has a number of Jansen prints adorning the walls of their inner sanctum, and over the coming weeks we will focus our attention on other folk who have been bitten by the collecting bug.
And……to ensure that none of the avid collectors out there feel offended by the title of this piece, there are a couple of photos from my own collection included – you can rest assured that I include myself in the gentle mocking. Always.
JBK bandcamp: https://jbkmusic.bandcamp.com/
Signed, limited edition prints are available to buy direct from Steve: http://www.stevejansen.com/imageshop/
If I am honest, my interest in photography is more cerebral than practical. As with my other main ‘hobby’ (a word which makes me sound as if I am about eight years old) – archaeology – I am far happier when gazing upon the work other people have produced/discovered, than I am scrabbling around trying to do it myself. Having said that, I did once go on a dig at Flag Fen and within about an hour of working a trench, dug up a Bronze Age flint dagger, which is about as exciting as it gets. Trust me.
However, I digress……..but suffice to say, generally I am more of an observer than a producer of the goods. So, I will happily trot along to any number of photography exhibitions and I spend a good deal of my time reading about, and looking at, the work of a range of talented ‘snappers’. However, it has been years since I last owned a half-way decent SLR and I have fallen victim to the lure of the phone camera as much as the next person. I did have a rather snazzy Polaroid camera back in the day, but that sadly ended up being lost during a house move, so I am now left with a couple of OK-ish P&S digital cameras and my ever-present phone. Not very impressive for someone who spends an inordinate amount of time thinking and writing about the subject, is it?
Fortunately, Steve’s interest in photography led him to try out a whole range of cameras and techniques,the results of which we are now able to pore over at leisure. We all know that he favoured his trusty Canon A1 for the majority of the time but he has also recently published shots taken with some rather interesting pieces of kit. Last year I wrote about the Widelux self-panning camera which Steve had in the 1980s and the amazingly trippy shots he took on a trip across Europe – I loved the way the image blurs and the ‘Alice In Wonderland’ effect this creates. I had assumed the “softening” was all part of the appeal of the camera, but it is actually a fault – or at least a happy accident – possibly from being hand-held. Whatever the reason for the blurring of the image, I think it adds a beautifully surreal and almost sensual feel to the images.
Recently Steve published these images (below) of his fellow band members in Hong Kong in 1980, taken using a Pentax Auto 110 miniature true SLR, which was the world’s smallest SLR, and is an incredibly cute looking piece of kit! However, as cute and record-breaking as it may have been, it was less than versatile as it required specific film. At the time though, it was the most impressive of the 110 cameras and it must have been interesting for Steve to have had the chance to play around with these new technologies. It also produced some lovely looking images……
mick in hong kong 1980
Equally as interesting at the time – but equally as limiting – was the Polaroid camera. Oh, how I loved mine. It was so exciting to be able to take a photo and see it develop in front of your very eyes! I suppose anyone under the age of 25 will be slightly bemused at the sheer joy that could be gained from watching the colours start to seep onto the square of shiny white paper, but I loved it back in the day. From the photos he has shared recently, it seems as if Steve was more likely to use his Polaroid for snapping away drunkenly with his friends, which has given us all a fabulous insight into how a night on the town with the various members of Japan and YMO could end up! Messy.
When Steve released his photography book last year, he was kind enough to answer a whole glut of questions for the blog, but I didn’t actually ask him why he favoured the Canon A1 over other quality kit at the time. He did speak of his preference for Analogue via Digital cameras though, saying “using a view finder is essential for me to feel engaged with photography; I can never fully appreciate framing up a shot on a display. You don’t feel as though you’re ‘in’ it. Camera obscura (Latin for ‘dark chamber’) is the place from which you, as the photographer, are observing; from the inside looking out. A display is like watching something already filmed and is playing back …. you’re on the outside looking in, and for me that takes away much of the magic.”
Thankfully, he was once again more than happy to respond when I asked him more recently about his choice of camera, explaining that the options were pretty limited, unless you had vast amounts of money to spend – so it was basically Nikon or Canon. He had become used to using the Canon – “the functions were really versatile and the fact that it was one of the first to have an LED readout in the viewfinder is probably what sold it for me…. and the operation modes were also very cleverly designed so it made switching between the four modes (fully manual/fully auto/auto shutter-manual aperture/auto aperture-manual shutter) very accessible.”
Steve still has his Canon A1 and has said that if he ever went back out on tour he would pack his camera with him for the trip….”it was fit for all purposes and has a great feel to it.”
And fact fans, here’s something that I assume most of you won’t know but will have you dashing straight off to your stereo-gram to check out – Steve’s camera can actually be heard on the downbeat at the end of the chorus of the song ‘Red Guitar’. It took me about 5 attempts before I could hear it, but then I do have rather old ears!
It may seem hard to remember now, but not that long ago information about, and access to, Steve’s photography was pretty hard to come by……18 months ago, the only sure-fire way of being able to find his images was by trawling through his website and ogling the few prints available for sale via his ‘imageshop’ or in the ‘archival shots’ sections. You could of course spend a good few hours lost in the world of ‘tumblr’ and come across random photos he had taken, but these were often not credited, so you were not always certain they were definitely his.
Then, all that changed; up popped his ‘sleepyard’ tumblr, followed a year later with this very blog, whose sole intention was to (unofficially) celebrate the world as seen through the lens of Mr Jansen. Then, at the back end of last year we had the utter joy of the publication of ‘through a quiet window’ which answered my oft repeated question ‘just how many photos must Steve have in his archive?’ with a resounding ‘bloody loads of them!’
Marvellous, isn’t it?
With the publication of the book, came the realisation that maybe, just maybe, that was it. Maybe he had published all the photos he saw fit to release and the heady delight of seeing a notification ping up on your phone saying ‘sleepyard has just posted a new image…..’ may well be over? When I asked Steve about this his answer was typically modest – “I guess I have more to share if there are people still interested. We’ll see.”
Well, people are still interested and guess what? – he definitely still has plenty to share!
Since September, the odd new image has appeared on ‘sleepyard’, including this rather trippy double-exposed Sylvian shot which is pretty beautiful, and the absolutely joyful Karn/Punter double-act image from the Quiet Life sessions. And then, just as we were preparing to say ‘adieu’ to 2015, with little fanfare and just a small notification on his tumblr/facebook pages Steve announced that the ‘imageshop’ had been updated to include shots from his book……and things got a bit giddy!
It went from offering a few dozen, mainly monochrome, images of his ex-band mates, alongside a couple of stunning Japanscapes and hotel interiors, and the odd shot of a random stranger or a glinty-eyed dog, to hosting a couple of hundred prints, all available to purchase directly from Steve. That was some leap, it has to be said, and it caused as massive flurry of excitement amongst the many Japan/Jansen related fan-sites which exist on-line. Even more excitingly, there were even more never-before seen pictures; some of them so eye-achingly perfect, you had to wonder why they weren’t included in his book?
There was one image which caused a certain amount of hilarity amongst a few folk, with the identity of the unknown jogger testing the imaginations of many. There was definitely a festive feel to the air, as some rather short-sighted people claimed they thought it was David Sylvian (wearing joggers and running? really?? surely he would have at least have had a fag in his hand?) dashing past a beautifully gurning Karn in Holland Park. To my eyes, it looked more like legendary grumpy-as-feck drummer Ginger Baker (thanks to Rob Dean for helping me to put a name to a chin!) but whoever it was, it certainly made for an entertaining hour over on TMK……..
The array of images available to own is slightly mind-boggling and I am seriously considering moving home to somewhere with bigger walls and fewer windows, just so I can accommodate all the ones I now covet………although that may be a tad extreme? I once thought that owning 6 Jansen prints was rather OTT but seeing all the new ones available, I am now certain that I am a mere amateur and until I hit double figures, I cannot really call myself a bona fide ‘collector’……
For those of you who have not yet succumbed to the slightly addictive joy that comes from being a member of the Jansen Print Owners Club, I am now about to dangle a metaphorical bag of powdery white substance in front of your eyes and tempt you to ‘become one of us‘……for it is ridiculously easy to get your hands on one of these beautiful images.
The process is quick and simple.
You simply choose the image you want and pay via paypal.
Once the print is ready you get an email informing you of the delivery date and time.
The prints are sent via courier and are securely packaged – in fact, getting into it is akin to a playing a particularly physical game of pass the parcel! – and they are signed and numbered by Steve.
And that, my friends, is it. What are you waiting for?
“How does one address in words a subject that is better addressed in silence through the heart?”
These words were written to me this week by my friend Becky Olenchak, when I was musing on how to approach writing today’s blog post. The clarity of Becky’s words made me pause and ask ‘why am I doing this and who is it for?’. Why do I feel the need to share my thoughts, with friends and strangers, which are just as valid if left unwritten? I suppose the truthful answer to this question is that I write this blog, first and foremost, for me. The fact that a fair few people choose to read it and seem to enjoy it, is an absolute bonus. So, I suppose today’s piece is no different; I want to somehow mark this date in a way which (to me, at least) seems most appropriate and fitting.
This is also a question that the good folk at TMK ask themselves every year, when 4th January comes around. The global community of Karn fans clearly want a focal point, somewhere they can ‘gather’ and remember Mick, but we are also very aware that this is a day on which (unlike the joyous ’24/7′ events) there is little to celebrate. This year, we hope that people will share their memories of Mick and join us in a quiet, respectful but loving tribute.
This time last year I wrote a post about Mick’s passing which has proved to be the most read post on the Jansen Photography Blog. It was an incredibly hard piece to write for a number of obvious reasons; but sadly, it was also an easy one for me to come up with, as I had experienced my own significant bereavement in 2011. My husband Mark died 10 months after Mick, aged just 50, having spent 18 months battling cancer. As I wrote that piece, focusing on Steve’s and Mick’s friendship, I could vividly empathise with the loss that his friends and family were feeling, as I am sure many of you could.
Steve acknowledged this loss when he published an incredibly poignant image of Mick on his website, with the beautiful words he had written in memory of his life-long friend. The prose blew me away and I felt an absolute connection with the words, which are not merely mournful, but encapsulate the experience of losing someone through terminal illness; the moments shared where you laugh and remember, with the knowledge that, even as you are sharing these moments, time is running out. These words had a profound impact on me and still do, to this day.
However, you do not to have suffered your own loss to appreciate and empathise with Steve’s words. Here, Craig Hamlin recounts seeing the image and reading the words for the first time:
“In late 2010, plans were made to hold a ‘gathering’ for a few close `Japan` buddies, with an agreement to all meet up in London in early 2011. When events took a sadly poignant turn, with the news of the devastating loss of Mick in early January 2011, it was decided our gathering would be our own tribute to Mick. A glass raised, memories shared, from a fan’s perspective.
The memory is still vivid. We were all gathered around a circular high table, happy and comfortable in each others’ company; catching up on everyone’s latest news, with an air of frivolity surrounding us all. I was checking something on my smartphone, (I don’t recall what…..a random fact no doubt) and …… there it was…….Steve had posted a beautiful photograph of Mick on his website. As I passed the phone around, each one of us took a deep breath, read the words, and exhaled loudly. How pertinent, that this image, these words were posted up, at the very moment when we were all gathered together – a group of friends who had met because of a shared love of Japan – paying our humble tributes on that day, some 100 yards from Air Studios, where these two friends created some of their finest works.
To say this is my `favourite` image by Steve, of Mick, would sound trite …. but it is, for me, the most powerful. An image and words of true love.”
It is now 5 years since we lost Mick. In that time, and certainly in the last 12 months, there has been a renaissance of sorts when it comes to his legacy. KScope have been re-releasing his solo material in beautiful heavy-weight vinyl and new fans are discovering his art and his music, via social networking platforms such as tumblr and facebook. Anecdotes from his auto-biography are now often quoted by people asking Steve questions on ‘sleepyard’ – a situation he could probably never have foreseen. Whilst it is natural for us to mourn the loss of someone who has had an impact upon our lives, I think it is a far more positive response to continue to celebrate the life they lived and the joy they brought to us.
And Mick brought so many of us so much joy, didn’t he?
Buy his records, listen to his music, revel in those bass lines, read his book ……and continue to spread the word far and wide, in his memory.
IN LOVING MEMORY OF MICK KARN 24TH JULY 1958 – 4TH JANUARY 2011.
Always loved never forgotten
images from Steve’s book ‘through a quiet window’ are available to purchase vis his website here:
I’m not quite sure why it has taken me so long to get around to recording my own thoughts on ‘through a quiet window’? Knowing that the book was in the offing, I had assumed that as soon as I had a copy in my perfectly manicured hands/grubby little paws (delete as applicable), I would have leapt straight onto the scanner and keyboard, reproducing my favourite shots and boring you all stupid with my obviously very intelligent comments about the new images which lay before me….and yet, somehow, it has taken me the best part 10 weeks to actually sit down and make sense of it all. A few weeks ago, I threw down the gauntlet to a number of blog readers to share their thoughts, but I stepped back from that post, and let them do most of the talking.
I guess there are a number of reasons for this; the most obvious one being that sometimes real life gets in the way of virtual blogdom – and I have been pretty busy recently, what with starting a new job and eating a lot of halloumi. Also, living in the wild and windswept North as I do, I have just spent the last week mopping up after Storm Des decided to drop 14 inches of rain onto my rather ancient roof….and a special thanks must go out to Craig Hamlin, whose first question when he heard that my house had flooded was “are your Jansen prints OK?” Classic.
However, if I am honest, I believe the real reason for the delay is this; I had waited so long for Steve to publish a book of his photos that when it actually happened, and the book was finally here, I really didn’t know what to say about it. For once, I was slightly muted about the whole thing. Yet, for whatever reason, it now feels like tonight is the night to finally set aside some time, and really explore this beautifully modest tome.
“‘Through A Quiet Window’ is a beautiful little treasure and Steve’s introduction highlights his talent with the written word, as well as a camera and music and…. bastard!” Shane McElligott
Indeed, Shane. For I feel we cannot really start talking about some of the images in this book, without first looking at the man behind the lens. Steve Jansen; percussionist, composer, multi-instrumentalist, producer, amateur photographer and, it would appear, all round clever (yet modest) bloke, with a keen mind and a great sense of humour. Bit annoying, isn’t it? There is a wonderful moment in Anthony Reynolds’ book, when he mentions the birthday card Danny Morgan gave to Steve on his 18th birthday which simply read; “You’re now too old to be a child prodigy!” There was a time when I wondered if he was one of those god-awful people who could turn their hand to absolutely anything. However, his recent admission that he had to abandon a planned documentary about Japanese musicians, when it turned out that he “had failed miserably as an interviewer”, made me realise that he is a flawed human being after all…..and if you have ever witnessed the toe-curling spectacle of him furiously struggling through a turgid 5-minute chat with “ooooh Gary Davies” back in 1985, you’ll notice he is a pretty rubbish interviewee too! Thank goodness for that.
However, as Shane noted, Steve’s introduction is indeed rather lovely and really does set the tone for the rest of the tome. Here, he reflects vividly on his tendency to record what was going on around him, unaware that the photos he was taking and the journals he was writing would result in him capturing such significant moments in time, but knowing that he wanted to document the life he was living; “to pause events, capture moments and take notes, before they expired forever…..I had no masterplan except to have a back up. In essence, some recall.”
And aren’t we all pleased that he did?
So, where to start? The book is not chronological in its design; although some of the photos are published in ‘sets’, it jumps around from recording Tin Drum in 1981, to touring in ‘82, to studio shots from ’79, to a montage of polaroids from a range of dates, onto Takahashi tours from ’82 and ’92, then back to touring with Japan in ’82. I am quite pleased about this, as I think it would have felt a tad laboured if all the photos flowed seamlessly, in date order. Much more interesting to keep jumping around; to have a polaroid of David from ’82, followed by a colour photo of him on the Champs Elysees in ’79, and to then turn the page to witness the shock of Mick’s magenta hair in the back of a cab in 1978 (see above). It makes for a much more stimulating experience, turning the pages and wondering ‘what next?’ And as there are around 200 photos here, there is always something to beguile on the following page.
Of the ‘previously unseen’ photos (and as Steve had spent the last 12 months periodically uploading a lot of his photos onto ‘sleepyard’, I did wonder just how many of these there would be?) some of the informal studio shots really stand out for me. The shot of Steve Nye at the mixing desk, the room reflected in the glass behind him, with a relaxed David chatting to Mick in the background, is one of those images which speaks volumes to me. For all the austere perfection of the public face of Japan at this time, this shows the other side; David seems relaxed in this environment and we get to peep into that insular world of theirs, when they would spend all of their waking time perfecting the music we all wanted the hear. What Steve manages to do, with many of these shots, is show the real people behind the public mask; as he notes, ‘naturally projecting themselves out of the everyday’.
This may seem as if I am stating the bleeding obvious somewhat, but I doubt that anyone else could have managed to capture such intimate shots of all of the band members, in such an in-obtrusive way. Although many of the shots are posed, (and it seems as if Mick and Steve spent many an hour fannying around the streets of South Kensington, trying out different ideas and having a bit of a laugh) the ones where he catches them relaxed and unaware, are the most successful for me. Sylvian grinning his infamous ‘Joker’ grin, but without any sense of pretence, whilst recording the vocal for Art of Parties; Mick honking on his sax during the recording of Quiet Life; and the quite extra-ordinary shot of Rich pointing out goodness only knows what to a shockingly unkempt, grinning Sylvian is remarkable. Could you ever have imagined seeing a shot of David looking less Sylvian-like at this time? For all those people who continue to insist that the elder Batt sibling never smiles (which is bizarre in itself, isn’t it?), you need to check some of these shots out!
So, just how am I supposed to pick my favourites out of 200 photos? For me, some of the images are so familiar now, that they have almost become background noise, so it is fantastic to be almost forced to re-evaluate them again, in this context.
The shot of Karn, Barbieri and Sylvian on South Molton Street had long been a favourite of mine, but I had somehow stopped looking at it. Sitting with the book in my lap and turning the page to see it once again – but this time being able to really study the scene in such detail – and to have the accompanying shot of a dishevelled Sylvian and Barbieri (as mentioned above) for context, brought it back to life again for me. However, of the new images on show, I think the one of Karn and the pigeon, swamped by the sheer might of the gigantic reclining Buddha in Holland Park, has to be top of my list (along with the pilot at Toronto airport). I had seen so many shots from this day, but this one just leaps out from the page. Just how big is that bloody statue?? It also reminds me of the time I spent hours wandering around Holland Park trying to locate this very statue, eventually stopping a policeman and asking “excuse me, can you tell me where the giant reclining Buddha is, please?” only to be met with a blank stare. Ha ha. It seems it is no longer there. Or maybe it was hidden behind the world’s largest bench?
So, now the book is here I guess I have to ask; was it worth the wait? Well, of course it was, and from the point of view of me starting the blog last year, the timing couldn’t have been more perfect, could it? It feels as if my growing interest in Steve’s photography has been paced by the publication of ‘through a quiet window’, and despite some of you believing otherwise, it really was all just a beautiful coincidence. Steve already had plans well under way when I first contacted him about the blog, so let’s just put this down to an act of seamless synergy.
The book has confirmed my long held beliefs that I really do prefer Steve’s monochrome images to the full technicolour ones; and I am fascinated by some of the shots from the Takahashi tours, which show again an intimacy and informality which Steve seems so capable of capturing. Yukihiro’s lyrical reference to Steve being ‘the quiet eye of the camera looking at us’ is as accurate as it is beautiful.
I guess the biggest problem for me now, is that the publication of the book just leaves me wanting even more (I am very greedy. You should see how much cheese I eat.) I am left wondering why there aren’t more shots from 1980? Why so few from the recording of ‘Polaroids’? Or from the UK tours of ‘81 and ‘82? I have long been a fan of Steve’s ‘japanscapes’, as well as the series he had taken in a number of almost identical hotel rooms across the country, so I was slightly disappointed that there weren’t any new ones included here. Steve himself has alluded to the fact that he has even more unseen photos, which he has said will possibly see the light of day, at some point.
So, maybe (just maybe) there will be a 2nd volume of ‘through (another) quiet window’ released in the future? We can but dream.