A dear person, animal, or a familiar view sometimes feels very distant. It's a sense of uncertainty and inviolability that suddenly strikes Kazuhei Kimura like a gust of wind. When it happens, the object is really distant, no matter how close it is to his lens, or even if it smiles at him. he can see it but he can't touch it, as if there is a wall of glass between them. Photography reveals the existence of this glass, albeit quietly. But whether he grasp its nature or not is a whole other question. he can stay tranquil as long as he leave incomprehensibility as it is. This is not a depressive account. It is sad, but there is also a certain brightness in the distances of intimacy. Kazuhei Kimura � s photographs are essentially a story told in the first-person perspective. He only carries his camera occasionally. He refuses to take images for the sake of photography (or the photographic story) and is not recording his surroundings scrupulously. He only uses photography as a means to weave a flow of the time passed but with a first-person perspective �I� instead. The time in which our physical mobility is restricted, instead of dreams and ideals, it is now more important to reflect on where we each stand. Beginning the phrase with �I� is neither passive nor self-closing but is in turn, an active instigation to the world, it will means greatly to be retelling the story using �I� as the subject. His pictures seem to be wrapped in that sort of feeling particular to this age. Kazuhei Kimura feel great interest in and attachment to his childhood memories, as well as the everyday life that he is living. The former makes a unique album, whereas the latter is for an album-to-be, for which he is in charge of selecting everything. He choose where to live, what to eat, how to wear and whom to get along with. he could get off the train at an unfamiliar station. he could dance with cats. Countless choices and experiences create a particular person, one who resembles no one else. Everyone has a collection of unique episodes, and he've been deeply moved by the texture of such episodes that live on in artistic productions such as clothes, movies and music. Although private in origin, they are pliable, they have a certain transferability. The good productions strike a chord in us and show us a vision of the unknown. That is what he want to do with photography.
The Other Side of the Window / Kazuhei Kimura