Dynamic Duo: Mameharu and Manaha

I have been posting images of the pairs of maiko and geisha I have photographed in reverse chronological order, so this month I should be adding an image of Manaha (left) and Mameharu dancing, as I did with Toshikana & Toshimomo and Yuriha & Tatsuha.

However, as I looked through the images from that February day, my favorites were the portraits I made after, so I’m sharing one now and will post a dance portrait next month.

As some of you know, Mameharu, Manaha, Yuriha, and Tatsuha are all from the Tama okiya in Gion Kobu, but my experiences with Mameharu & Manaha were quite different from my encounters with Yuriha & Tatsuha.

I started working with Mameharu & Manaha when they were both senior maiko. I had already photographed Mameharu’s erikae when this portrait was made, and I would photograph Manaha’s debut as a geisha just a few months after this. I had always worked with them separately until this day.

I began working with Yuriha & Tatsuha literally on their first and second days as maiko (their misedashi), and they were always together the first five times I photographed them.

This discrepancy made photographing Mameharu & Manaha much more challenging.

As usual, I waited for Mameharu & Manaha in a narrow alley near their okiya, the path I knew they would take to our photo session. I wanted to make some quick natural-light portraits there.

Our session was only going to be 90 minutes, half the time I usually had. I was very conscious of this and wanted to get started right away.

I greeted them and showed them where I wanted them to stand. I raised my camera to my eye, began to compose the image…

… and stopped.

Both Mameharu and Manaha were staring blankly at me as if they had no idea what I was talking about.

I did a double-take. I had photographed both of them in this alley several times before. What was wrong?

I realized that although I was very comfortable interacting with both Mameharu and Manaha individually (and believed they felt the same way with me), I had never met and worked with them together.

The dynamic between us had changed, and none of us knew quite what to do!

I think I started just talking to myself out loud in English, a little out of frustration, a little out of panic, and a little out of trying to make light of the situation.

Manaha looked at me like I was losing my mind, said something to Mameharu, and they both started laughing, but it was awkward laughter. This was not what I wanted!

I decided to cut my losses and move to the tea house. I could come back and make some portraits at the end of our session if I had time. The main focus was to make photographs of them dancing together, and I wanted to spend as much time as possible on that.

I photographed them dancing for about an hour with no problems or awkwardness, so I decided to take a chance and move out to the veranda and have another go at making some portraits.

The veranda is shaped like an L, and I was about halfway up the vertical line of the L while Mameharu and Manaha were near the end of the horizontal one. This was actually good, because it put some distance between us. It wasn’t my intention, but I was giving them some space! We decided that Manaha would sit and Mameharu would stand.

The veranda is very narrow, so it takes time just to get my tripod and camera set up. As I worked, I kept an eye on Mameharu and Manaha to see how they were doing. They seemed more relaxed.

I am very precise when it comes to composing an image, and I sometimes move the camera a millimeter or two to the left or right, up or down. I noticed that when I was doing this, Manaha and Mameharu were ignoring me completely and just talking.

I realized that if I just left them alone, things would be fine. I pretended I was having problems with the camera and “fumbled” around and basically ignored them, too.

Manaha was probably the class clown in junior high school, and it wasn’t long before she was making jokes and laughing and just chatting away with Mameharu. Laughter is infectious, and Mameharu was soon laughing and chatting, too.

I would occasionally give them a direction, like “Mameharu, push the bamboo a little farther away” or “Manaha, keep the bamboo away from your face!”

Other than that, I let them be. Mameharu and Manaha were best friends. They didn’t need me to tell them how to behave around each other. They already knew.

And that’s what I did!