Sisters in Gion Kobu

A photography student contacted me recently with some questions about my work. One of her questions was to give an example of a photograph that was important to me and explain why.

This is an almost impossible task; there are so many! However, I had to choose one, so I chose a portrait of the maiko Yukako from 100 Views of Maiko and Geiko that I wrote about in this blog post.

I can’t think of that image of Yukako without thinking of this portrait of Natsuko.

The photographs and women are connected in several ways. Their portraits feature the biggest smiles in my first book, and both Natsuko and Yukako are from the same okiya in Gion Kobu and are from the same prefecture. Natsuko is also Yukako’s onesan.

I made both photos in 2004, and Natsuko retired late in 2006 or 2007, just after 100 Views of Maiko and Geiko was published. That’s 14 years ago now, and long before photographing maiko and geiko became so trendy.

Are there any images of Natsuko still around? I wondered. A quick Google search did not reveal even one, which made me a little sad. Natsuko was one of the first geiko I ever met, and she helped me in many ways.

It’s time I wrote about her!

A Close Encounter of the Foster Kind

I first encountered Natsuko on a rainy night in Gion Kobu just after 9:00 p.m. It was late in 2002 or early in 2003. As I have written before, I was completely ignorant about geiko in those days, so I was learning the hard way, through trial and error.

I was standing at the intersection of Aoyagi-koji and Shochiku-koji, a place I now know is one I will almost never encounter a geiko or maiko.

I didn’t know it then!

I had chosen that corner because it was one of the few places in Gion Kobu where there is enough available light at night to make a decent photograph. It still is!

The available light comes from a single bare light bulb that illuminates the entrance to a parking lot behind a restaurant on Shochiku-koji, which was a very quite street in those days without much foot traffic.

It has just stopped raining and I had been waiting there for a while and hadn’t seen a single soul, let alone a geiko or maiko. And then Natsuko appeared at the other end of the street, about a 100 yards away.

I moved into position. I could see the pool of light cast by the bare bulb on the street. It glittered in a small puddle formed by the recent rainfall.

Natsuko came closer, and I started a silent mantra. “Walk through the light, walk through the light, walk through the light…”

Natsuko was heading right for the center of the pool of light. Things were working out perfectly! I almost never even saw a geiko in those early days, and to see one, and have her walk in the perfect spot…

At the last second, Natsuko must have seen the shallow puddle. She walked around it, and right out of the pool of light.

No! No, no, no!

I was crestfallen. “Oh, geiko-san, why couldn’t you have walked through the light?” I said, in English.

Natsuko must have sensed my obvious disappointment from the tone of my voice and my body language. She stopped, smiled at me, and asked me what was wrong.

I imitated her walking around the pool of light and gestured that I needed her to walk through the pool of light, not avoid it. I explained in Japanese as best I could, but I don’t know how much she understood.

Natsuko smiled at me, nodded her head, retraced her steps, and walked through the pool of light for me. I asked her to stop (probably in the middle of the puddle, as I think about it now), and I made a few portraits.

I thanked her profusely. Throughout all of this, Natsuko had the same mischievous twinkle in her eye as in the portrait posted here and a bemused smile.

It was a pretty absurd situation, and I was aware that my reaction was over the top, but in an ridiculous way, not an angry one. I was playing the fool, and Natsuko understood this.

After that, I would see Natsuko from time to time, and she would always bob her head a few times in greeting, and she would always be smiling.

Memorable Encounters of the Natsuko Kind

Our brief encounters were always memorable. Once, she was walking with a group of customers, serious older Japanese men dressed in dark business suits.

By then I knew that a geiko would not greet me when she was with customers, so I don’t know who was more surprised, me or the businessmen, when Natsuko called out “Konnichiwa!” to me.

The men looked at me curiously. Why was Natsuko greeting this strange foreigner?

Our most memorable photographic encounter was our briefest one, and the one featured here. It was a beautiful summer day in July 2004. As usual, I was on Aoyagi-koji, and it was getting near 6:00 p.m.

A taxi pulled up in front of Masuume, a famous okiya in Gion Kobu. “Uh-oh,” I thought. Whenever a taxi pulled up in front of Masuume, it was usually waiting for several maiko and/or geiko.

The herd of tourists on Hanami-koji would catch on after a minute or two, and soon there would be swarm of tourists buzzing around the taxi.

I knew from their body language that maiko and geiko hated this, and I wanted no part of the situation, even if it meant I would miss out on the chance to make a photograph.

I walked away from the taxi as quickly as I could, closer to Shochiku-koji, which is one street over. I wanted to make it clear to the maiko and geiko that I was not like these tourists.

And while I was walking up Aoyagi-koji, Natsuko was walking down.

She saw me and stopped. I stepped a bit closer to her, and I while I was making a few exposures, this big smile spread across her face.

I knew she was probably headed for one of those taxis, so I quickly thanked her and wished her luck with the buzzing swarm. She laughed.

When it came time to ask for permission to include the photographs in 100 Views of Maiko and Geiko, I learned that Natsuko’s father owned a restaurant just on the outskirts of Gion Kobu. So, one day Satoko (my wonderful interpreter) and I went to the restaurant to meet Natsuko.

She started laughing when she saw this portrait, and her father liked it, too. They were both very kind to me. Natsuko said she would tell her okasan about me so it would be easier for me to get permission to include photos of other maiko and geiko from her okiya in the book.

I remember feeling so grateful, and so inadequate, in those days. And as I write this, I feel the same way again now.

How could/can I repay people like Natsuko, who had been so good to me, for no reason at all?

I still don’t really have an answer, all these years later, except trying to be kind to others.

And I can tell you how wonderful Natsuko was, so now you know.

And there will be at least one photograph of her that can be found easily now.

If she sees it, I hope it makes her laugh again, remembering the foolish photographer on a misty night so obsessed with puddles of rain, and of light.

More Close Encounters with JPF!