Whilst reading the description of Nobuyoshi Araki’s “Shi Nikki (Private Diary)” exhibit, I received the impression that his work, inspired by the grief he experienced following the death of his wife, would prove both somber and touching, evoking emotions of sorrow and longing. Nevertheless, the exhibit itself proved my prior ideas entirely wrong. As I began to maneuver through the gallery displaying the collection of 101 black and white photographs, I saw that they depicted women in graphically sexual positions that appeared sadistic and nonconsensual; these demeaning and pronographic images were bizarrely intermingled with a random selection of still life photographs that did not seem to fit into the general theme of the exhibit in any way; the only purpose that they served was to provide a momentary relief from the shots of women being bound and set on display, almost tortured. I can only express deep disappointment at this work and describe it as an outrageous abuse of women and of the female form; it is not the nudity that is shocking, it is the suggested lack of a safe and consensual space for these female models and the hiding of their identities, which renders them objects rather than individuals. 

I cannot claim to know whether the private diary reflected a practice that Nobuyoshi’s wife enjoyed prior to her death; the description, however, made it seem as though the work was merely the product of his reaction to her death and not the reproduction of a ritual that they shared. The description states that “the intimacy of the bereaved photographer, in which desire and death confront each other, reveals winding paths that invariably lead back to solitude and emptiness…the many female models only accentuate the feeling of absence, acting as avatars of his deceased wife.” Perhaps the photographer wished to convey that no female form, no woman other than his wife could satisfy him sexually or spiritually; it nevertheless was disturbing to see the models’ faces being concealed as they lay limp on beds or other surfaces. It felt as though Nobuyoshi focused solely on the sexual aspects of the female form rather than on any sort of individuality that the women he was photographing possessed. In hiding their faces, he stripped them of their identities and transformed them merely into objects being exploited and put on display. Referring back to his description, what other feelings than solitude and emptiness can be evoked by a lack of facial expression and of color?

In many of the photographs, we could see Nabuyoshi capturing the images from a distance. I would have reacted differently had the work captured the women showing their faces, smiling or enjoying what they were going through whilst Nabuyoshi was in the far foreground completely removed from what was happening, merely taking the image and having no reaction to or interaction with the women. This would have truly given an impression that he feels emptiness at the loss of his wife and cannot enjoy any sort of intimacy with another. Nevertheless, he was absent in most of the photos, which were centered on the women’s bodies and hardly at all on their expressions or on his own personal reaction to them. 

Nevertheless, the few women whose facial expressions were captured in the photos did not look comfortable or content which, although perhaps an intentional aspect of the work, when combined with the scenes of bondage in which models were hanging from the ceiling secured by ropes all over their bodies, including on their vaginas, hinted at a lack of mutual consent. Further research is needed to determine whether the female models felt that they were in a safe and professional space while posing for Nobuyoshi. In addition, these women were all extremely young and were working with a much older man. The only model who was clothed was a young girl who hardly seemed thirteen, and even then she was sitting in a rather suggestive position despite her extremely modest outfit. I imagine a photograph of a sole clothed young woman mixed in with pornographic images would raise many questions if taken during our times. Had the exhibit included an interview or relevant background information regarding the artist, his wife, and all of the models, it may have proven much more ethically acceptable and less difficult to view. Instead, all we know is that this private diary was created in the 1990s and was first given to the American artist Robert Frank before it became publicly available. I find myself wondering whether Nobuyoshi initially had the intention of publicly sharing the work; if that is not the case, is it not bizarre to undertake this personal project and then share it with a male friend for no stated purpose? It is not the nude figures that generate such a deep discomfort; nudity is ubiquitous in artwork; rather, what proves disturbing is the manner in which the female body becomes the center of attention only as an object rather than as a natural part of a human being. My final question is as follows: would Naboyoshi have agreed to photograph and publish pictures of his own wife in such a way? If not, what would have stopped him, and what allows him to photograph other women in such identity-stripping ways?

As I walked through the exhibit, I was interested in observing how others reacted to it. I noticed that hardly anyone was taking pictures of the work, whereas so many photographed the Charles Ray exhibit. Most walked quickly through the gallery, barely stopping to look at the photographs for more than two seconds. In contrast, many took the time to walk slowly around Charles Ray’s orgy exhibit and did not hesitate to take photos of it. The reason for this is that, although both pieces are pornographic in nature, Ray’s work was obviously completed in a state of consent; it is entirely of himself. On the other hand, Nobuyoshi’s work seemed to make viewers feel as though they should not be looking at what is displayed; even the title “private diary” gives the impression that one should not dwell long on these photographs. Art is indeed an expression of the self, a product of creative imagination that holds emotional power; nevertheless, to what extent can unethical means of expression hold the label of art? Does this not encourage the reproduction of morally questionable works? I cannot answer this question, but it is nevertheless important to ponder.