Recently, a dear friend from London sent me a link to a website. A website of a photographer with a very unique project. The project is called 893 - Yakuza. His name is
Anton Kusters.
These are his words about this project...
893-Yakuza is a personal visual account of the life inside an inaccessible subculture: a traditional Japanese crime family that controls the streets of Kabukicho, in the heart of Tokyo, Japan.
Through many months of delicate preparations and negotiations by my brother Malik, our fixer Takasan, and myself, we became the only westerners ever to be granted this kind of access to that closed world.
With a mix of photography, film, writing and graphic design, I try to share not only their extremely complex relationship to Japanese society, and also to show the personal struggle that each family member faces: being forced to live in two different worlds at the same time; worlds that often have conflicting morals and values… It turns out not to be a simple ‘black’ versus ‘white’ relationship, but most definitely one with many shades of grey.
Preparations started in 2008, and access was granted in april 2009, for two years. The project is now at full speed, with all elements of the story being produced as we speak. in 2011 and 2012, several magazine issues (893 Magazine), a photo book (ODO YAKUZA TOKYO, sold out in less than 5 weeks), a documentary feature film, and a large exhibition will become reality.
Meet Soichiro.
He has agreed to us getting to know each other. Through the barriers of different languages and cultures, we will be approaching each other with the broadest possible open mind. To learn, to tell our stories. To gain trust and to share views.
—
Soichiro and his family control Kabukicho, in the heart of Shinjuku, Tokyo. Not much happens in the streets without his approval.
—
After more than 10 months of preparation and ground work by my brother and our dear friend Taka-san, finally, for the first time, we all meet over dinner. At first, Soichiro lays down the rules. Tells us what we want to achieve is near impossible. He says that the things we want to document, no outsider has ever been allowed to bear witness to. We eat, drink, smoke, and exchange gifts.
—
He invites us to his office. we talk some more. I show previous work, I show prints of Oaxaca and I show prints of “Sugar”. He tells me I photograph with a Japanese eye. He laughs when we ask if it’s true that all family members have tattoos, and if it’s painful to get one.
Then he shows his.
Each tattoo is so personal, he says, full of meaning to the bearer and his family. Only Sensei Horikyo tattoos for his family.
—
No rush. He understands and wants us to take time to get to know his family, time to develop our view. He believes in our way of working, and is confident we will bring this to a good end. He thinks in years, not days or weeks or months.
He does a lot of legwork in his family. Even though he his a boss, he still speaks to his bosses who in turn speak with their bosses. Within two days, we are invited to witness a closed meeting. Four members apologizing to the family for being in jail. My brother and I are nervous as hell going in.
No pictures allowed yet, but now we know. Soichiro walked the walk and committed. Our project has begun for the next couple of years. My brother and I… and Soichiro. Becoming friends, telling the story… I hope everything will work out.
Slowly we go through every gallery, every image… Once in a while he flags one because he wants to ask a question or he wants me to make a print of it. To be presented to the subject on the photo… as a gift. This moment, the first showing of the images, the big first moment, “Are they going to like it? Will they approve?”, actually goes by without a glitch.
I also tell him i’m slowly starting to see the way i want to tell the story, so i show him my first sequenced spread layout on screen. only 20 images. I talk about my views, what i have seen, what i have learned, and that i am setting the mood in this “first chapter”. He agrees and thinks i should continue in the same way.
—
I’m in the front seat, riding with Soichiro in his car on his way to Shinjuku. “One cuts off one’s finger to make a point”, Soichiro explains while driving. “Usually to show the sincerity of an apology after doing something wrong.”
“You cut off a single digit of your own finger in a ceremonial way, while facing your boss, and then you present the severed finger on a folded napkin to him. It reinforces the power of your apology. It shows that you’re serious about what you’re saying.”
Somehow, i don’t feel like questioning that.
Bright day. Early morning. A commemoration is to be held for a deceased family member.
The family is in charge of organizing the service. Before dawn, they set up a room with a white shrine and flowers… the family name as well as the person’s own name is displayed above.
Guests and other families have been invited, and by sunrise they are slowly starting to arrive in order to pay their respect. To welcome them, the family of the deceased lines up alongside the room according to hierarchy, Tanamoto Kaicho first. Every member of the mourning family has a white paper flower attached to the jacket.
—
I stand in the doorway silently. I see the guests enter the room, burn incense for the departed, and say a prayer for his sake. After this, they proceed to an adjacent room where they sit and talk to the family boss, have a cup of tea, and smoke a cigarette.
At this point they pay their respect yet again by offering a ceremonial envelope with money inside. The precise amount of this gift is determined by a complex mixture of factors like relationships, business ties, a statement, personal friendships or past commemorations.
—
Soichiro tells me that often the deceased is mourned several times over different services, depending on practical circumstances, or even plain notoriety. I’m imagining the practical implications of organizing a single service in the center of a city with a Yakuza family consisting of several thousand members… In this case, it’s the second commemoration, and also quite intimate. Nonetheless, the endless line of cars is quite impressive. There are several members on “traffic duty”, redirecting (regular) traffic and providing parking space.
—
Every time the next line of cars approaches, Soichiro tells me which family it is, and a few words about or their relationship with them. I watch the members who are lower in rank exit their cars first, and form a line next to the road at the entrance of the shrine. A few seconds later, when the boss pulls up and exits his car, he is surrounded by family members. Everyone bows and greets while he walks past and enters the room.
—
The end of the day. It’s over. The guests have gone, the rooms have been cleaned and everyone’s ready to leave. Socho, the number one boss, is the first to go… his car drives up and he enters. Again, all members are lined up, this time to say goodbye. I feel a little uneasy, a tall westerner hanging around at the wrong place, having no clue what’s going on.
The car is about to pass by, but then something happens: the car slows down to a stop, and the darkened back window opens to me. This is definitely not standard procedure, and quite a security risk too. I now see the boss sitting there in his car, smiling and looking straight ahead. It takes me a second to realize why he does this… but then I get it.
—
I smile. I take the picture, I bow and pay my respects. The car drives off and disappears in the distance.
P/S A second edition of his book is now available for pre-order.
