[2024.12.17] Yuzuru Hanyu through the lens: The absolute champion as seen by a god photographer

[yuzurujenn]

Info: https://www.yamakei.co.jp/products/2824550260.html

 

"Kogaito is a photographer who tries to capture the inner side of his subjects" - Yuzuru Hanyu (from this book)
This book features beautiful gravure photos taken especially for this book! Don't miss Yuzuru Hanyu's monologue!

 

Yuzuru Hanyu, who won consecutive Olympic gold medals in men's singles figure skating and continues to shine as a solitary figure even after turning professional. And there is Sports Nippon Newspaper's Kogaito Yoshiki, who has been following Hanyu through his lens and is known as the "god photographer" for his highly artistic photographic expression. Their encounter has dramatically changed figure skating photography in sports journalism.

 

Kogaito's figure skating photos stand apart from the traditional "standard" sports photos. With his fresh sensibility, he creates captivating images. His unique "Kogaito Blue," which emerged after much trial and error, brings out the transparency of Hanyu's presence and has gained immense support from fans. Kogaito passionately stated in an interview, "The world that Hanyu expresses is not only what is visible. By imagining and interpreting what is not visible, I am able to capture the true essence of his performance." This insight into what fascinates Kogaito about Hanyu, along with his beautiful photographs, delves deep into the heart of Yuzuru Hanyu, through the words of sports writer Mitsuru Tanaka.

 

Table of Contents:

Photo Gallery

Prologue

 

Chapter 1: Indomitable Spirit
1.1 The 2014 Sochi Olympics, during the days covering the (Hanshin) Tigers
1.2 Stubbornly refused to shave his head for the baseball team
1.3 Rejection from joining the club, cancellation of job offer; a series of setbacks at Waseda University
1.4 The path to becoming a sports photographer
1.5 Wanting to take photos unlike anyone else's

Chapter 2: Inner Conflict 
2.1 After a year and a half of struggle in the editorial department, reassigned to the photography section
2.2 The initiation of a Tigers beat photographer
2.3 After a second stint covering the Tigers, finally heading to Tokyo
2.4 From desk duty at the Rio Olympics to covering the PyeongChang Olympics
2.5 A new "company photographer" in the figure skating world

Chapter 3: Resistance
3.1 A photo position looking ahead one year from now
3.2 The "gaze" of the absolute champion omitted from the Tokyo edition
3.3 A fateful shot taken at the Autumn Classic
3.4 A “miraculous” shot capturing the champion, illuminated by wings
3.5 A photograph of the absolute champion beginning to transform

Chapter 4: Determination 
4.1 The absolute champion arrives at the PyeongChang rink
4.2 Hanyu’s fighting spirit shown through drawing a bow
4.3 A stunning short program conveyed solely through his "expression"
4.4 Choosing a free-skate photo position based solely on belief in a gold medal
4.5 The moment of his second consecutive victory: The champion's expression beyond imagination

Chapter 5: Individuality
5.1 A new era of sports journalism created by social media
5.2 The story behind the creation of a full-page, poster-style photograph
5.3 A “crossroads” in life with the absolute champion
5.4 Pursuing a unique style: "High-Key" and "Kogaito Blue"
5.5 Astonishing shooting scenes where even failures became pictures
5.6 Covering the World Championships despite the COVID-19 pandemic

Chapter 6: Compassion
6.1 Hanyu's delicate and fleeting fighting spirit, dyed in blue
6.2 The athletes’ village mixed zone, where I quietly kept waiting
6.3 "Determination" and "solitude" conveyed through his back
6.4 A miraculous one-shot taken immediately after the free skate

Chapter 7: Deepening
7.1 A flash of light! Thoughts of disaster-stricken areas that became particles of light
7.2 The sense of distance with the subject, Yuzuru Hanyu
7.3 A soft aura enveloping his determination
7.4 Able to take on any color! The intention behind photographing him in a white costume at the second anniversary of his professional career

 

Special Feature: Yuzuru Hanyu's "Monologue"
Exclusive Photoshoot
In Place of an Afterword

 

Cover Photo: Yoshiki Kogaito (Sports Nippon Newspaper Company)
Stylist: Minako Orihara (Mi-knot Inc.)
Styling Cooperation: Taketoshi Hara (Schtik Inc.)

Hair & Makeup: Tomomi Kakizaki (Cap)

Design: Minoru Suga

Proofreading: Ichiro Toba

Editor: Tatsuya Murao (Yama-kei Publishers)

 

 

Author: Mitsuru Tanaka

Associate Professor, Department of Sports Management, Shobi Gakuen University, Sports Writer. Born in Kyoto in 1978. Graduated from Waseda University, Faculty of Law. Completed the master's program in Sports Science at Waseda University Graduate School. After working at Sankei Shimbun, he is now in his current position. His specialty is sports media theory. He has covered professional baseball, MLB, figure skating, and more. His published works include 'Portrait of Yuzuru Hanyu' (Yama to Keikokusha), and he co-authored 'Children Who Don’t Play Sports' (Fusosha Shinsho), among others.

 

Photographer: Yoshiki Kogaito

Photographer at Sports Nippon Shimbun. Born in 1983 in Mie Prefecture. Graduated from Waseda University, Faculty of Human Sciences, Department of Sports Science. Photographs figure skating, soccer, baseball, etc. He has worked on photo books such as 'Y Yuzuru Hanyu Photo Collection' (Sports Nippon Shimbun) and 'Mao Asada Ice Show Everlasting33 Photo Collection'.

 

 

 

[yuzurujenn]

*Machine translation. Inaccuracies exist*

 

 

PROLOGUE

“A fleeting moment of brilliance.”

 

Spoiler

October 18, 2024. This was the answer I received from figure skater Yuzuru Hanyu, who had just finished a photoshoot at a studio in the suburbs of Sendai, when I asked him what he expected from being a subject in a photograph.

 

“In figure skating, a performance is expressed as a 'line,' formed by a series of intricate movements. Photography, on the other hand, cuts out a single instant from that continuous motion as a 'point.' At times, this can even appear ruthless. Flaws that might be concealed within the flow of a “line” can be exposed when captured as a single 'point.'”

 

Yet in Hanyu’s performances, no matter which instant is captured, there is always “expression,” always something that reaches the level of “art.” That is the honest impression from the photographer who has always aimed his camera at Yuzuru Hanyu.

 

From the interview with Hanyu that I was given the opportunity to conduct for this book, I came to realize that photographs of him, capturing a single fleeting moment, are inevitably formed in that way.

 

Hanyu said: "Even if figure skating has beauty as a ‘line,’ if you break it down into very fine segments, each moment is nothing more than a ‘point,’ right? And even those ‘points’ are a continuous series of movements, like tiny particles. No matter how small and particle-like those ‘points’ are, I want all of them to be cool and beautiful, forming a single ‘line.’ If you think about it, time is the same. We tend to perceive it as a ‘line’ connecting the past to the future, but in reality it is nothing more than a continuous series of ‘nows.’ So as a subject being photographed, my ideal is to look cool every time, no matter which moment is captured."

 

—Do you have any particular mindset when you are in front of a camera lens?

 

Even to the author’s vague question, Hanyu responded clearly:

 

“To be in the best possible condition that the photographer wants to capture.”

 

There are two photographs. One shows the absolute champion immediately after a battle, his body fueled by adrenaline and fighting spirit. His intense expression makes it clear that he overcame injury and successfully defended his place at the top. The other, a view of his back, captures a “solitary figure” who, after attempting an unprecedented ultra-difficult jump, has completed his battle with himself.

 

These are photographs taken immediately after his free skate at the 2018 PyeongChang Olympics, where he secured back-to-back Olympic titles for the first time in 66 years in men’s singles, and during the Beijing Winter Olympics, when the International Skating Union (ISU) officially recognized the quadruple Axel (a 4.5-rotation jump) as a competitive element for the first time in history.

 

Both images were taken by sports photographer Yoshiki Kogaito of the Sports Nippon newspaper (Sponichi).

 

At both the Pyeongchang and Beijing Olympics, he continued to point his lens, determined not to miss a single "moment" of the champion.

 

The caption of the first photo reads: “‘I won!!’ Roar of gold medal victory” (Hanyu erupts in joy after finishing his free skate in the men’s individual event at PyeongChang. He wins gold, becoming the first man in 66 years to win back-to-back Olympic titles and earning Japan’s first gold of the Games, energizing the Japanese team = Gangneung Ice Arena, South Korea, February 17.) This photo also won the 2018 Tokyo Press Photographers Association Sports Division Award (Overseas).

 

However, Kogaito pays no attention to external recognition. What matters to him is whether he has taken a photograph he himself can accept, nothing more. Could it have been better? Was the shooting position optimal? Was the color balance right? Because he never feels he has truly captured Hanyu at his “best,” he has never once been satisfied with his own work. That is why he continues to aim for the next photograph to be the best one yet.

 

Kogaito arrives at interview venues ahead of other photographers, waiting with his camera even in places where no one else comes. He questions existing photographs and constantly asks himself, “Isn’t there another way to capture this?”

 

Hanyu was aware of Kogaito’s unwavering stance.

 

During the interview, I had assumed that Hanyu would avoid commenting on a single photographer, given the potential impact of such remarks.

 

However, speaking naturally, Hanyu said this about Kogaito:

 

“Among sports photographers, I really felt that he was the type who leans more toward an artistic style, someone who brings out their own unique color in their work,” he said.

 

Beside him, Kogaito smiled shyly, looking embarrassed.

 

Hanyu continued without hesitation.

 

“There aren’t many like that. Newspaper photographers tend to end up taking more news-style photos, you know? I’m not sure if ‘ignoring that’ is the right way to put it,” (Kogaito nodded when Hanyu looked at him), “but I always felt he had a very strong desire to photograph the scenes and moments he himself thought were good, in his own way.”

 

That was exactly the case. After graduating from university, Kogaito joined Sponichi (a sports newspaper), and never attempted to produce the so-called “standard” photographs that had long been the norm in sports reporting. As a result, his resistance to established conventions likely made him somewhat difficult to handle as an employee. In a newspaper’s photography department, editors wait for photographers to submit their images for publication. What would happen if photographs that deviated from the conventional “standard” format arrived?

 

A fateful encounter awaited Kogaito, who stood outside the bounds of “common sense.”

 

The subject he kept pointing his lens at was Yuzuru Hanyu. In addition to his overwhelming strength as an absolute champion in competition, he occasionally revealed graceful, delicate expressions, and his finely trained body was not merely steel-like, but also possessed a certain softness. The impression of “transparency” fit him perfectly, as he radiated a presence that transcended the boundaries of sport.

 

Even figure skating had its own “standard” photographs. These were shots of jump positions, spins, and other poses that made it immediately clear to readers which sport they were looking at. To achieve this, one of the conditions of such “standard” images was that the subject’s entire body, including the skates, had to be captured in the frame.

 

At figure skating events, in addition to newspaper photojournalists, there are also freelance photographers working for specialized magazines. Top-tier freelance photographers enjoy immense popularity among fans. Their approach, distinct from news photography, freely expresses figure skating through the “filter” of the lens, and is highly regarded.

 

Kogaito began to have doubts.

 

“Is it really fine for figure skating photos in sports newspapers to stay the same as before? As a photographer living in the era of Yuzuru Hanyu, is it enough to simply take ‘standard’ photographs?”

 

That single step led to a major transformation.

 

With smartphones and tablets now widely used across all generations, the shift away from print has become even more severe. It has long been said that “newspapers no longer sell.”

 

In such a climate, one particular sports newspaper stands out.

 

The morning after Hanyu, who had turned professional as a skater, opened his ice show to the media, sports newspapers across the board featured him in double-page spreads. While the articles were noteworthy, the main focus was a single image captured from the show. It is said that the vast majority of Hanyu’s fans are women.

 

Sports newspapers are typically filled with coverage of sports favored by middle-aged and older men, such as professional baseball, Major League Baseball, soccer, golf, sumo wrestling, and even public gambling (horse racing, keirin cycling, boat racing, and auto racing). Normally, this would not appeal to Hanyu’s fanbase.

 

However, the day after Hanyu’s public practices, solo performances, or ice shows in which he appears are made available to the media, sports newspapers sell out at convenience stores and station kiosks around major terminal stations in the host city.

 

Fans' interest lies not so much in the articles, but rather in the photographs of Hanyu published in the newspapers. Sports Nippon (Sponichi) is particularly popular. Fans are drawn to the beautiful shots that capture Hanyu’s expressions and physique, as well as the “transparency” characteristic of his image.

 

These are photographs by Yoshiki Kogaito, who became Sponichi’s “exclusive photographer for Hanyu.” Having challenged the status quo, he eventually came to be called a “god” among fans. Today, even within media circles, Kogaito is widely recognized as the “god photographer.”

 

Sports reporting in print media is broadly divided into two roles: “reporters,” who write the articles, and “photographers,” who capture images on site.

 

For reporters, “pre-interview research” determines the quality of an article. From interviews and press conferences already conducted with the subject, they extract memorable words, and also interview coaches and others around them, incorporating into the manuscript the unseen efforts and trajectory of the athlete—things the athlete themselves may not speak about—in order to convey them to readers. When enough anecdotes are gathered through “pre-interview research,” they are woven into the article for the day, and by adding results and circumstances, the framework of the article is formed.

 

In contrast, what is required of photographers can be said to come down to a single point: whether they were able to press the shutter without missing the fleeting moment as it happened. While reporters can later revisit and re-ask questions, photographers cannot retake a moment that has already happened in the field. Under such pressure, what is Yoshiki Kogaito’s pride as a photographer, having consistently produced photographs highly praised by fans?

 

How did his encounter with Hanyu change his approach as a photographer? And how did he continue to direct his lens toward the brilliance that Hanyu radiated? My motivation for writing this book was to explore "Yuzuru Hanyu as captured by the god photographer," through carefully selected shots from the countless photographs he had accumulated.

 

As I wrote in my previous work, "Portrait of Yuzuru Hanyu II: 4,000 Days of an Absolute Champion as Seen by a Reporter" (published by Yama to Keikoku Sha), I began covering figure skating in the autumn of 2011, when I was working at the Sankei Shimbun.

 

At that time, figure skating coverage in Japan was still largely focused on female skaters. As men’s figure skating grew in popularity, Hanyu emerged like a comet, and men’s skating shifted from an era of many highly competitive top contenders to one defined by a single “absolute champion.” During this period, the mass media, including general newspapers and sports papers, competed through writing. The challenge was how to express skaters on the ice. The main focus was text, while photographs were little more than “supplements.”

 

However, with Kogaito’s emergence, Sponichi’s pages began to undergo a transformation. This was also supported by the strong backing of Yutaka Nagakubo, then head of the photography department, who had long served as a behind-the-scenes pillar supporting Sponichi’s figure skating photography. They introduced a new approach, shifting from the traditional model of “selling through words” to “selling through photographs.” During my time at the Sankei Shimbun, I even felt a sense of envy toward Sponichi’s strategy. Kogaito’s photographs, published in the newspaper and shared on social media, captured Hanyu’s transparency and emotions in a single, fleeting shot.

 

My relationship with Kogaito was limited to exchanging greetings when we met in the field. He was smart, polite, and never pushy. He was quiet and rarely seemed to engage in small talk with other reporters or photographers. In that sense, Kogaito was also a man who was difficult to read.

 

When I conceived the idea for this book, I wasn’t sure he would agree. However, when I explained my intentions, he readily agreed, saying, “That’s a wonderful offer. I’d be happy to cooperate.”

 

I was surprised when I heard about Kogaito’s path since he first set out to become a press photographer. He had by no means taken an elite career path. During interviews, he said this many times:

 

“I don’t have any talent as a photographer.”

 

However, he is stubborn to the point of refusing to conform to the photographers around him. Whenever there is a photograph that has been regarded as good in the past, he maintains his stance of trying to surpass that evaluation from a different angle. He prioritizes giving 100% to his subject over company evaluations. From an organizational perspective, he is by no means an easy photographer to deal with.

 

Having worked for a newspaper myself, I understand this well. So-called “difficult people” are a nuisance, whether they are reporters or photographers. There have been many cases of talented individuals who, despite their abilities, end up being sidelined from the field. In a different era, Kogaito might not have been an exception.

 

However, he encountered Yuzuru Hanyu, the darling of his time and an absolute champion. In the world of figure skating, where sport and art are said to merge, when the “solitary skater” who rose beyond the boundaries of competition to become an absolute presence became his subject, there was a brilliance that conventional figure skating news photography could not match.

 

Seeing Hanyu allowed Kogaito to break free from his own preconceptions.

 

"In the presence of such a skater, in front of Hanyu who continues to take on countless challenges, I can't afford to play it safe."

 

Removing his own limitations, the solitary photographer resolved to take photographs that defied conventional wisdom, photographs that no one else could take.

 

How did Kogaito transform “standard” photographs into images described as “divine”? There were numerous hurdles he had to overcome, both within himself and within Sponichi. This book reveals the details of these challenges. Here lies the life story of a photographer who devoted himself entirely to sports reporting.

 

Please note that honorifics for individuals have been omitted in the main text. In addition, Yuzuru Hanyu is generally referred to without honorifics; however, in the spoken comments of Yoshiki Kogaito and others, he is referred to as “-senshu” (athlete) during his competitive career, and as “-san” after turning professional.

 

[yuzurujenn]

*Machine translation. Inaccuracies exist*

 

Source:

https://weibo.com/1746783312/P5bA7do5T
https://weibo.com/1746783312/P5kqt88ne

https://weibo.com/1746783312/P5qnA6vJN

 

 

Excerpts about Yuzu’s sensibility as a subject of photography

 

Spoiler

The special photoshoot for Kogaito's book (written by Mitsuru Tanaka) took place on October 18, 2024, in Sendai.

 

The photographer's request for the shoot was "sculptural imagery."

 

"I've always felt that the images created by Hanyu with his body are like those classic sculptural works. With this concept in mind, I wanted to use the imagery of sculptures displayed in an art museum for this shoot."

 

Yuzuru quickly understood the photographer's intention with just the request for "sculptural imagery," and posed one after another. The photoshoot took place in a completely quiet environment and took about half an hour. During the shoot, Hanyu was playing a piano piece by Ryuichi Sakamoto in his mind (though it wasn’t specified which piece).

 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

"In front of photographers who want to take life-size photos of me, I show myself in a natural state, without hiding anything in front of the camera. In a sense, it feels like peeking into Yuzuru Hanyu's private life. However, in front of photographers who want to capture Yuzuru Hanyu skating, I want them to see me immersed in the world of the program. There are also photographers who focus their lens on my inner self, or what could be considered the core of my being. Of course, this will vary depending on the shooting scenario, but basically, I adjust my state as the subject according to the photographer's goals and ideas."

 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

When Yuzuru Hanyu faces the camera as a subject, the sensitivity cultivated through figure skating is vividly reflected.

 

"Both the changes in awareness and atmosphere are shared with what has been cultivated in figure skating. How to integrate and align with different music in different programs, in that sense, I think photography and figure skating are very similar."

 

On the other hand, in figure skating, as a performer, Hanyu takes an active and subjective approach to his performance, facing an audience. During his competitive era, he also had to consider the judges. So, when Hanyu, as the subject of a photograph, faces the camera, is it a proactive engagement with the lens, or a passive confrontation with the lens that is focused on him?

 

"Hmm," Hanyu paused and shared his thoughts.

 

"How should I put this? Actually, figure skating is like that too. Sometimes, I perform with the image of being objectively observed from the outside (from the perspective of the audience and judges).

 

When performing, I often think, 'What kind of feeling will I present if I look at myself from the outside?' And when I am being photographed, do I have the same feeling?"

 

"Even though figure skating is initiated by me, there is indeed a part of me that stands in the position of the receiver. Although the balance between objectivity and subjectivity, and between active and passive may vary depending on the program, in terms of capturing a moment, it still seems to be an extension of figure skating.

 

"Of course, as I said earlier, when the camera seems to be peeking into my heart, I try not to observe myself from the outside. This might sound a bit abstract, but I feel that in those moments, the photographer is capturing not just my appearance, but my soul as well. So, at those times, it might be closer to completely exposing my untamed side."

 

Unlike the photography in a studio, as a figure skater, Hanyu performs in front of countless cameras.

 

There are moments when he might want to relax. His focus might waver for a brief moment. However, Kogaito says, "Hanyu can always turn into a 'painting' at any time."

 

If that's the case, does Hanyu constantly face countless cameras with heightened awareness? His unexpected response made me nod in agreement.

 

"During a competition, I am not performing for the camera. In my competitive years, my awareness was directed towards the 10 judges. When the judges saw my body from the front, the angle from each of their positions would be around 120 degrees. I performed with the awareness that no matter from which angle they looked at me, it would look great. Now, as a professional, my awareness has become even stronger. For the people watching me, whether they are the audience or the photographers, my goal is to make sure that from any angle, 360 degrees, the performance looks great. As for photos, I believe the photographer captures a moment in a positive sense. So, I also have a feeling that I rely on the photographer’s skill while performing."

 

Although Hanyu is the subject of the photos, he understands photography quite well. During the interview, he also mentioned technical terms.

"The ISO sensitivity of the photos, the tone, and the white balance are all influenced by the photographer's preferences, which can vary. You can tell by looking at the photos. Sense is different for each person. For me, there are moments in the program where I hope to capture specific scenes. For example, in SEIMEI, it's the moment when the taiko drum beats 'boom,' and I open my arms and widen my eyes. But depending on the photographer's preferences, some might choose to capture the moment I raise my arms, or others might prefer the dynamic sense of motion. Some photographers might choose to capture the perfect stillness of the hydroblading pose, while for 'notte,' there are those who capture my reflection in the ice, which looks like a calm lake."

 

The different photographers capture a particular "moment" in the performance, which can only be seen at a specific point in time and from a certain angle along the "line" of figure skating. What I always focus on is ensuring that the performance is great from every angle, 360 degrees, no matter where it's viewed from. However, depending on the position of the observer, what they see will be different. And depending on each viewer's individual sensibility, their reception of the performance will also vary.

 

 

 

 Source: https://weibo.com/6473801248/P5CDvDUZ6

 

Excerpt about Kogaito's attention to detail
 

Spoiler

"Remembering Hanyu’s choreography and deciding in advance the shots I want to take is the 'standard practice' for photographing figure skating. However, I want to capture the spontaneous, improvisational movements of Hanyu that only happen during that specific performance. While there are iconic moves, like hydroblading, there are also many subtle differences in the choreography each time, and that’s what makes Hanyu’s performance unique. If I can capture a move that the audience has never seen before, I believe that will naturally become the most impressive photo of the day."

 

Regarding Kogaito’s attention to detail and his pursuit of capturing "the most brilliant moment of the day," Hanyu expressed his admiration:

 

"In figure skating, where the entire space — left and right, up and down, forward and backward — is used for expression, with both the X, Y, and Z axes involved, I think Kogaito is the kind of photographer who makes you feel, 'Wow, this moment is really cool.' So, it makes me happy that Kogaito is willing to capture the moments he finds 'really good' and 'amazing.'"

 

While being interviewed, Kogaito showed a nervous expression. Noticing this, Hanyu teasingly said:

 

"I've been praising you non-stop!"

 

During the interview, Hanyu described Kogaito as "a photographer who captures the inner core of a person." This statement deeply resonated with Kogaito. Throughout the interview, he seemed particularly concerned about how Hanyu viewed his photos of him. (Excerpt omitted)

 

As introduced earlier in this book, Kogaito tries to communicate with his subject, Hanyu, through his photography. Therefore, he believes Hanyu’s evaluation of his photos is everything.

 

The phrase "a photographer who captures the inner core" contains the best answer Kogaito had been searching for all along.

 

 

[yuzurujenn]

 Source:

https://m.weibo.cn/status/5113964130470585

https://m.weibo.cn/status/5114484273975862 

https://m.weibo.cn/status/5114746877777468 

 

Chapter 3 - Excerpts pt 1

 

Spoiler

Aiming for the Shooting Position One Year Later

With his slender figure and soft expression, coupled with an ethereal aura, when Yuzuru Hanyu stands on the ice, he immediately reveals the demeanour of a seasoned athlete. Figure skating is an art-focused sport, and Hanyu, who is dedicated to victory, represents the essence of the athlete himself. Before his performance, he would immediately concentrate, entering the "zone," and when he executed a satisfying performance, he was overwhelmed with joy. When his performance didn't go as planned, you could catch glimpses of his bittersweet, reluctant smile.

This is the Olympics for Hanyu. The reigning champion made his way to the Games with the goal of achieving the first Olympic title defense in 66 years at the PyeongChang Olympics. The world described it as such.

Kogaito was mentally prepared for this.

“I’ve finally realized my dream of shooting on-site. I want to capture a photo that symbolizes the PyeongChang Olympics. My goal is to capture the moment when Hanyu wins the gold medal.” But simply capturing his joyful expression was still part of the “fixed template.” Kogaito wondered what kind of photo he should take to break free from that, setting a self-imposed deadline—he aimed to shoot at the 2017 4CC (Four Continents Championship), one year before the official Olympics, to prepare himself. For photographers, this was the best practice platform.

Before heading to Korea, Kogaito meticulously went through every previous photo of Hanyu. Although he had never shot figure skating before, with the competition already halfway through, he repeatedly watched videos and photos of Hanyu’s performances that season. He noted where the jumps, steps, and spins occurred, and which expressions Hanyu would show in major competitions, documenting every detail.

For major competitions, photographers often press the shutter tens of thousands of times in one day. There are moments when they miss the perfect shot, and many photos that don’t turn out well. All the shots are uploaded to the newspaper’s shared folder. In the season before the Olympics, Hanyu’s short program was set to the popular rock song “Let’s Go Crazy” by an American rock singer, and his free skate to the piano piece “Hope and Legacy.” In the newspaper’s internal folder, there were about 1,000 photos from the short program and around 1,200 from the longer free skate. Kogaito had seen them all.

As for Kogaito, who has photographed various competitive events, many people would directly say: ‘Shooting itself is just a simple sport.’ The reason is clear. There is only one person on the ice. Unlike team sports, you only need to follow and capture one athlete, and with autofocus, there’s no need to manually focus. However, if you look through the newspaper's internal folders, from a photography technique standpoint, they haven't been pursuing high standards.

Kogaito added, “That’s why we need to aim for tasteful shooting techniques. What kind of photo should you take? What scene should you shoot? Photography, rather than focusing on technique, is a sport that requires having a 'point of view.'” As he reviewed the photos, Kogaito began to feel a sense of incompatibility.

“These photos all look too similar. As I’m going through them, I keep wondering—aren’t there other ways to shoot?”

On the computer screen, with the thumbnails displayed, he would select the photos that caught his attention and maximize them. When displayed as thumbnails, they looked like a collection of identical photos grouped together.

“Most of them are full-body shots taken from the stands with the ice as the background. This is the ‘fixed mode’ shortcut for figure skating.”

Of course, the photographers on-site can’t afford to slack off. To convey the essence of a figure skating performance, details such as the skates, clothing, facial expressions, and skating posture must be clearly captured. Full-body shots with the background included are ideal, and these are the “shortcut photos” Kogaito refers to.

 

Additionally, among photographers at the time, there was what could be called a "standard formula" or "joseki," a concept borrowed from Go, where the best move in a given situation is already well established. For figure skating photography, the "joseki" for positioning was this: short programs are shot from above the stands, while free programs are shot from the ice surface. For the brief short programs, the approach is to capture the athlete's full body against the ice background, prioritizing efficiency to complete the frame. For the free skate, the photographer can afford a bit more "creativity," shooting from the ice surface and varying the distance, alternating between close-up and wide shots, and thus completing a well-executed photo.

This traditional approach to figure skating photography has been passed down, and despite changes in equipment or other factors, the photos published in newspapers have remained nearly identical, making them “stable.” 

Kogaito was filled with doubts about such photos: “Is there no other way to shoot them?” As the 4CC approached, he decided to attend the competition with a mindset to learn. He also reflected on his own tendency to overly pursue his ideal style while shooting other events. How should he capture photos of Hanyu, a representative figure of this era? Kogaito focused on the official Olympic competition one year away, and entered the 4CC with one decision: for both the short program and free skate, he would shoot from the stands. Normally, shooting from the ice side provides more freedom, and for this year's 4CC, the free skate could be shot from that side. However, the Olympic Games are different—4CC can't be compared to it. At the Olympics, there will be media from many countries shooting on-site. The Japanese press will not be assigned to the prime shooting spots, so he must find a location from the stands that is easier to shoot from. The battle for the Olympic Games, one year away, has already begun.

 

 

"Hanyu, after two months of recovery, made a mistake in the competition, placing third in the SP. Not satisfied."

This headline appeared in the February 18, 2017 morning edition of the Sponichi. Hanyu's right index finger was pressed against his forehead, with an expression of frustration. Kogaito recalls:

"This was the moment when Hanyu made a mistake, and his feeling of frustration became evident. This gesture was very natural for him, revealing his emotions. This photo really captures his inner feelings displayed on the ice. I thought about it and then pressed the shutter."

Kogaito arrived at the scene on February 13 and immediately began following Hanyu's every move. He captured Hanyu arriving at Incheon International Airport, then followed him from the airport hall and continued to snap photos as Hanyu got into his car.

The level of attention Hanyu received was evident even before he disembarked from the plane. Not only were Japanese fans there, but fans from countries like Korea were also waiting for him, holding banners everywhere. Hanyu, wearing a mask, left an impression of a slender figure with fair skin. A row of photographers aimed their lenses at him, while columnists approached him, seeking a few words.

The following day, February 14, Hanyu practiced at the official competition venue. Kogaito, who was shooting Hanyu for the first time, focused on capturing his movements on the ice. The photo used for publication was taken with a wide-angle lens. "At this point, it was actually a test before the Olympics. I wanted to convey to readers the scene of Hanyu practicing at the Olympic venue. If I had shot upwards, it wouldn't have been clear whether it was the venue in Gangneung or one in Japan. So, I wanted to make it clear that this was at the Olympic venue. But looking back now, this was from the perspective of sports reporting."

Kogaito shook his head. "What kind of figure skating photos are people really aiming for?" So, for the short program on the 17th, Kogaito sent photos linked to the results to the newspaper. At that time, Hanyu's 4Lo at the start was perfectly executed, and his 3A in the second half earned a +3 GOE, but his second 4S was downgraded to a 2S, causing him to drop to third place.

"I later chose photos that corresponded to his movements, but in the end, this was based on the perspective of sports reporting. In taking photos of Hanyu, I could also capture high-quality shots, but the fact is, those (photos used for sports reporting) had to come first. If his performance was flawless, I would choose photos that convey his joy; if he made a mistake, I'd select photos showing his fall or frustrated expression. It’s always that process. As a photographer at the bottom of the hierarchy, I had no say in which photos the editor would choose for publication. In the end, the photo that was published was one showing Hanyu's frustrated expression over the result."

Though Hanyu made a mistake in the second half of the free skate, he scored a season-high 206.67 points with four quadruple jumps, winning the free skate and finishing second overall. The theme of the Sponichi's page was a photo of Hanyu mid-jump.

The headline was: "Five Quadruple Jumps, Witnessed." Based on the GOE of the free skate, the headline was very clear. The report was focused on the content, not necessarily on the photo Kogaito took. For a sports newspaper, that’s the obvious choice. But Kogaito wished he could use other photos.

Kogaito truly felt Hanyu’s greatness in person. He understood why Hanyu's beautiful quadruple jumps had become a template. Some people joked that multiple quadruple jumps just made it a "jumping contest", but Hanyu showed the essence of performance with his dedication to expressiveness. At that time, Kogaito felt that he couldn’t fully capture Hanyu’s power and greatness facing the camera in a competition with just photos and words.

Though a bit blurry, Kogaito candidly said: "I understood Hanyu's strength as a skater."

The best angle for shooting the podium is from the front, where you can capture the athletes' expressions when the medals are put around their necks, and their emotions as they stand on the podium. Other photographers naturally set up in front. However, Kogaito deliberately positioned himself diagonally behind the podium, a place that could not be considered the "right" spot. Why did he aim his camera there? He had a clear purpose. Though he couldn’t get a shot of the athletes from the front, he could capture Hanyu’s gaze toward a certain person from that position. So, he discarded the front-angle shots, though the editor still preferred the front-facing photos and gave him a sour look.

"If they want to use photos from other affiliated news agencies, why send our own photographer to the scene?" Despite this, Kogaito had his own persistence. The key photo he wanted to capture was Hanyu's gaze toward someone—this was the decision a photographer on-site would make, as Kogaito explained.

Hanyu stood on the podium, smiling and offering his best wishes to someone, showing a gentle expression and shaking hands. The respect for the victorious athlete was evident in Hanyu’s humanity. Then, the two embraced, gazing into each other's eyes in that moment.

"This was the moment when Hanyu’s athlete instinct was awakened. While he sincerely praised the other person, his frustration over not achieving the desired result didn’t disappear. I saw that, in Hanyu, there was a deep sense of frustration, a mindset of ‘this time it’s okay, but next time I will never lose.’ I’ve photographed many athletes, but Hanyu is special. Seeing Hanyu’s gaze through the lens, I felt that I had to be mentally prepared to capture such a powerful athlete in the future."

At that time, when the internet hadn’t yet actively updated breaking news, Kogaito carefully selected his photos. "This one is better," he decided and sent a photo of them shaking hands. "Actually, it wasn’t just a handshake; I wanted the editor to understand my intention was to capture Hanyu’s gaze." 

 

 

The photo of the handshake (where Hanyu’s gaze is captured) was used in the Osaka edition of the newspaper. However, the response in Tokyo was different. The editor saw the photo and immediately called: 'Please send over a photo of the jumps.' Kogaito felt powerless. Of course, it wasn't the editor's fault. What would happen if his photo stood out too much and became too sharp? He understood that they wanted a photo of the jump. He also understood that by including a jump photo, the fixed-template photo would make it easier for readers to understand. The layout had to be done this way.

However, Kogaito felt ashamed. “What I saw on-site wasn’t just about the jump; it wasn’t like that.” He wanted to change the editor’s mind about the photo, but back then, Kogaito didn’t have any significant track record and no influence within the newspaper. Although he conveyed that "the handshake photo would be better," the editor firmly insisted: "I want the jump photo." Kogaito said he will never forget that feeling; he held back his frustration and sent over the jump photo the Tokyo edition wanted.

After returning to his country, he checked out the photos published in other newspapers and magazines. Kogaito thought that other photographers would also review the photos he took. “In the world of photography, results are everything. Once the photo was in the newspaper, I realized I had taken such a photo. In the newspaper’s data, or rather, in the Osaka edition, I could see where my persistence was reflected. That being said, it felt like an excuse. The photo I thought was good wasn’t used in the Tokyo edition. I couldn’t control which photo the newspaper would display. Later, the Mainichi Sports used the jump photo from the free skate which I had taken. When shooting the medal ceremony, perhaps other photographers wondered, 'Why did Kogaito shoot from a diagonal angle?' They probably just thought I hadn’t focused properly. However, the expression of Hanyu’s desire to win, which I captured, wasn’t visible in the Tokyo edition, and that frustrates me.”

Looking back on that year, I asked Kogaito how he evaluated his photos from the 4CC. He said, "There is no perfect score in my photography career." With that premise, he calmly replied: “At that time, I would give myself 20 points.” As for the photos taken outside the podium ceremony, he felt they were good photos, even though they weren’t published in the newspaper. Still, he gave himself 10 points for that. He also gave himself 10 points for capturing photos of the free skate and short program from the pre-planned Olympic competition locations—this was meaningful in setting up for the Olympics a year later.

He also said: "At that time, I didn't photograph enough of Hanyu’s charm."

When it comes to photography, while the photographer's technical skill is very important, the subject's presence is also crucial. Now, looking back, Kogaito realizes that he didn’t fully capture the best parts of Hanyu or his charm through the lens.

Hanyu shows many different "faces" to photographers. Since he revealed so many sides, Kogaito thought, “What kind of photo should I take?” This is how he grew as a photographer. Many people call me a "god," but at first, I didn’t have exceptional shooting skills or any unique methods. It was through photographing Yuzuru Hanyu that I was able to grow. A month later, at the World Championships in Helsinki, Finland, Hanyu made a stunning comeback from fifth place in the short program to reclaim the World Champion title for the first time in three years. However, Kogaito didn’t manage to capture a photo that came close to showing Hanyu’s charm.
Compared to other sports photographers, though Kogaito continued shooting, he couldn’t say that he was entirely satisfied, but he also couldn’t call it a failure.

 

However, he was deeply impacted that summer before the PyeongChang season. The impact came from the methods of freelance photographers. Every year, a routine shooting and interview session is held in Toronto, and this season, Hanyu would perform his short program and free skate for the Olympic season, drawing more attention than in previous years.

Kogaito also went to the Cricket Club in Toronto, Hanyu's training location. Hanyu got out of the car near the training ground, pulling his suitcase as he slowly walked towards the entrance where the press corps was waiting. There were many photographers waiting for Hanyu’s arrival at the entrance. Since Kogaito was new to shooting in Toronto, he didn’t fully understand the situation and wanted to escape the crowded area. He stepped slightly away from the crowd and aimed his camera at Hanyu. However, as Hanyu walked over, a freelance photographer’s figure entered Kogaito’s line of sight. The photographer crouched in a low position and aimed the camera at Hanyu. In front of Hanyu, there was a brightly blooming, colorful flower bed, and the flowers in the background were blurred and blended beautifully. The photographer cleverly captured the refreshing summer image of Hanyu. Kogaito immediately understood the photographer’s intention.

"He was shooting there." The next day, the newspaper published a photo from the public practice session, while a specialized magazine released its issue the following day. The photos published in the magazine reflected the hard work of the freelance photographers. The angles, techniques, and the focus of the shots all demonstrated their dedication.

Kogaito admired the way freelance photographers worked. They carefully considered shooting positions in advance. He also noticed another freelance photographer in front of Hanyu’s walking path. The photographer had perfectly captured Hanyu’s gaze, pressing the shutter at the moment Hanyu smiled.

This is the result of long-term shooting and the trust built between the subject and the photographer. Kogaito felt a sense of defeat.

“For Hanyu, the subject I was photographing, I ended up escaping to other places. I must make up my mind."

 

[yuzurujenn]

 Source:

https://m.weibo.cn/status/5114843550712786

https://m.weibo.cn/status/5115084363796642

https://weibo.com/1683522853/P6EOtnUCU

 

 

Chapter 3 - Excerpts pt 2

 

Spoiler

A Fateful Photo Taken at the ACI

On September 22, 2017, Hanyu Yuzuru participated in his first competition of the season in Montreal, Canada, the ACI (Autumn Classic International). The season leading up to the Olympics had finally begun. Many Japanese media outlets came to cover the event. The day before, they had attended the official practice, and there would be another official practice session that day, followed by the short program. Hanyu chose Chopin's Ballade No. 1 in G minor, Op. 23, a piece that had broken historical records in the 2015-2016 season, stunning the world. This legendary program would be brought to the Olympics.

Hanyu's first competition of the Olympic season was overwhelming. With his opening 4S and the 3A in the second half of the program that earned a GOE of 1.1 times the base points, he delivered a flawless performance. He updated his own world record and stood in first place with brilliance. After the competition, Hanyu radiated a sense of accomplishment. At that moment, sports newspapers used titles like "overwhelming" and "breaking the world record" alongside photos brimming with the spirit of a champion, which became a "fixed template."

Even ignoring the melody of the piano piece and the atmosphere of the program itself, sports newspapers wanted to make it very easy for readers to understand Hanyu’s spectacular performance as he aimed for the Olympics, emphasizing that he had gotten off to a great start. On the other hand, Kogaito thought: a photo that could capture the melody of the piano would be the most fitting for Ballade. He selected photos from the thumbnails. The sports newspaper’s "fixed template" was the opposite of what Kogaito had in mind. However, when considering how to photograph the subject, that should remain unchanged. Yet, now the approaches from both sides were very different.

As Kogaito reviewed the photos he had taken and stored them on his computer, his eyes stopped on one image. It was a shot that captured the soft lines of Hanyu's body, taken just before he entered the final steps of his program. His outstretched hands seemed to reach for something, and his expression was one of looking toward the sky. The photo was a side profile. "Usually, front-facing shots are more popular because they are more lifelike. But this side profile of Hanyu is also lifelike." Kogaito kept reviewing the photo over and over. When he discovered this one, he had to go back to it multiple times. He felt it truly represented "static beauty."

"I think I've captured a photo I like," he felt an urge to have it published in the newspaper. However, that wasn't an easy thing. The photos required for the page, whether of Hanyu or other skaters, should convey a "strong sense of movement, a lively feel." In short, the photo needed to express "action." But Ballade was a slow, tranquil program. Ignoring the melody and insisting on using a photo with jumping action wouldn't do the program justice. Kogaito believed that if he could capture a photo that faithfully represented the tranquil world view of Ballade, the charm of both the program and Hanyu himself would be conveyed.

Thus, among the many photos taken, a miraculous shot was born. Kogaito said, "When I was pressing the shutter, I didn’t realize I had taken that photo. It was an unexpected moment while I was following Hanyu." However, he quickly came to his senses.

"That photo might not be used," Kogaito had had four opportunities to shoot Hanyu before attending the ACI. The first was at the 2017 4CC, then the WC where he made a triumphant return to the top of the world, followed by a competition in Japan in April (WTT) and an open practice in Toronto in August. Through these four opportunities, Kogaito had learned the type of photos the newspaper preferred. "A photo like this one probably wouldn’t be used. I hope I can share the worldview of Ballade that I felt at the scene with the newspaper. Figure skating is both a sport and an art, a unique competition that blends both. But the newspaper requires photos that convey simple, easy-to-understand scenes to its readers."

So, Kogaito expressed his opinion and sent that photo. The transition from film cameras to digital cameras had greatly improved convenience for photographers. Unlike film, digital cameras allowed photographers to immediately check the photos they had taken, without the worry of film costs. With digital cameras, they could continuously press the shutter without fear of failure, capturing hundreds or even thousands of shots at an event, and then select the best ones.

The photographer can choose which photos to send. The decision on which photo to use is made by the editors within the newspaper. Sometimes, the editors will collaborate with the reporters to select photos that align with the report. The photographer's role is to carefully select the photos taken on site. If the photographer strongly communicates "which photo they want to be used," it could be seen as an "infringement of the editor's domain." The photographer can choose not to say much, but by expressing their preference, they may prioritize sending the photo they want to be used.

Kogaito was the first to send the side profile of Hanyu. "I want to stake everything on this photo," he communicated, then also sent a jumping photo as an alternative. The head of the photography department at Sponichi, Nagakubo, who had been mentoring Kogaito, was very concerned about the photos he sent. When he saw the photo come through, he was momentarily shocked. "I originally thought it would be the photo of Hanyu after breaking the world record in his season opener, one with a 'How was that?' expression. However, Kogaito chose to send a photo that was different from my taste. The photo he initially sent was a side profile. He must have wanted to use that one, so I called him in Canada to confirm."

Then he said: "Yes, I want to use this one. I want to convey Hanyu's charm, so if we're going to send a photo, I’d prefer this one." The choice of which photo to use is decided by the editor on the day. Nagakubo couldn't say anything to his subordinate who had gone through the scene, became the “editor”, and took on all the responsibilities.

"This one is quite good," Nagakubo said, looking at the photo Kogaito had initially sent, speaking carefully and quietly. The editor, still somewhat doubtful, asked, "Really?" In the end, they respected Kogaito’s opinion.

 

 

 

After Kogaito sent the photos from the scene, he returned to his hotel, planning to contact the editors later after they had started work. For processing newspaper pages, there are various sports events taking place around the world, including baseball and soccer. In addition to domestic competitions in Japan, there are also events in Europe, which operates in a different time zone from North America. The editors were eager to quickly finalize Kogaito’s photos, so once their workday began, they immediately contacted him. The first message came from the newspaper. Nervously, Kogaito asked, "How do you feel about the photo I took?"

After a moment, the editor shared some unexpected news. "Nagakubo said it's quite good, so we'll use the one you initially sent."

Kogaito felt a surge of excitement inside—so they had used that photo! It would be published in the newspaper! Was it Nagakubo who accepted the suggestion, or was it coordinated with the editor? The editorial department would finalize the report and photo layout, and the next morning, the proofs would come out. During the proofing stage, revisions and title changes would be made, and the editorial department would then send it to the printing department for the ‘final draft’. The reporters, photographers, and editors involved in that day's pages would all review it. If anyone had objections, the photo and report could be changed.

Kogaito eagerly waited to see the final product and when he saw the proof on the computer, his heart soared. Hanyu's first competition of the season, along with his historic highest score, was placed at the top of the page. Accompanied by a glorious headline, it was the photo Kogaito had hoped for, capturing the "quiet and beautiful" side of Hanyu.

Nagakubo smiled wryly as he recalled the scene: "If we hadn't sent Kogaito to the scene, we wouldn't have used such a tasteful photo." The typical sports newspaper template would have used a photo filled with determination, a victory gesture, or dynamic energy. However, Kogaito's photo, which conveyed a more emotional and different perspective, reflected his choice of a softer approach. Of course, Nagakubo didn't just casually select Kogaito's photo.

Nagakubo, a longtime fan of figure skating, had passed the responsibility of the job to his junior. He saw how Kogaito worked and heard what other photographers said: "That Kogaito guy is really impressive, he works hard, you should trust him."

A hardworking junior is truly a delightful presence. Because it was Kogaito's own choice to send the photo, Nagakubo had no doubts about the decision. Nagakubo, who was closely followed by passionate figure skating fans, knew what kind of photos would be liked and whether the photos he took would be accepted. The feedback this time exceeded expectations. The online comments formed a buzz, with some even saying they wanted to make it into a postcard.  Kogaito said, "I've never seen such enthusiastic online comments, and I never sought this kind of response from the world."

No matter what kind of satisfactory photos are published on paper, readers rarely write in to say, "This is a great photo." I always approached my photography as a battle with myself. After returning home, Nagakubo printed out the comments from the comment section and gave them to me. I was so happy, and I was amazed at the response."

Kogaito's mindset changed significantly after the photo from ACI. "Up until now, sports reports always followed a fixed template, and photos were selected unconsciously based on this model. However, at that moment, I captured a photo that I truly loved, a photo I was proud of. Of course, without Hanyu's graceful lines as the subject, I wouldn't have noticed it. It was a photo like that. This photo is Hanyu's own photo."

At first, Kogaito thought the newspaper would require jump shots, but with Nagakubo's support, he chose the one that would be published on the page. The fans' response was overwhelming.

Kogaito: "I have my own worldview, and I've realized there are fans who recognize this worldview. Of course, not everyone will agree, but knowing that there are people out there who do, it gave me a lot of courage. With an understanding superior like Nagakubo who respects my ideas, my mind was instantly relieved. I can move forward in this direction."

One day, the figure skating photos in Sponichi changed. No, it was Yuzuru Hanyu's photos that changed. In other words, at this point, the photos of Japanese figure skating reports underwent a shift. It can be confidently said that this marked a significant turning point in figure skating photography.

 

 

 

Capturing the King, A Miracle Shining on the Soaring Wings

 

Kogaito realized that photographing Hanyu was not limited to the realm of sports reporting. For him, he had gained the "support" of many fans. Filled with confidence, he began to focus his lens on Hanyu.

 

The official start of the season was marked by the GP series, where Hanyu made his debut at the first Russian Cup. He dazzled in Sochi with his 4S and 4T, and since then, the evolution of figure skating jumps has never stopped. The young athletes chasing him began performing more difficult jumps like the 4Lz and combination jumps. Based on the performance and skating technique trends of the skaters in Hanyu's era, the quadruple jumps introduced by younger skaters did not contradict the mainstream trend, and some athletes adopted this strategy. An example of this is Javier Fernández from Spain, who won consecutive World Championships in 2015 and 2016. Among these strategies were those that focused on increasing the base value (BV) of jumps, as well as tactics to improve the performance component scores (PCS). From a competitive standpoint in figure skating, both approaches could be considered valid ways of scoring.

 

As the reigning king, Hanyu was unparalleled in both areas. In the 2016-17 season, during the ISU Grand Prix, he not only succeeded in landing the 4Lo for the first time but also included the 4Lz in his Olympic season plan. In August, before the Olympic season began, while in Toronto, Canada, he was once again asked by the media whether he preferred the number of jumps or the quality of the program.

 

He explained it this way: "Both jumps and expression require high quality. I believe all of these are my weapons." For Hanyu, the Russian Cup was his first GP event, and it was also the competition where he planned to include the 4Lz in his free skate. The significance of Hanyu’s new quadruple jump was not a challenge to others but could be considered a "template" for future skaters. His approach, his air posture, and his landing are all based on elements that ensure flawless execution. At the Russian Cup, the media's focus was also on whether or not Hanyu would land the 4Lz.

 

However, Kogaito believed that figure skating photos didn’t necessarily have to focus on the 4Lz.

 

“It’s clear that even if you capture a jumping photo, it can’t beat the actual footage. Television stations will surely air the footage from that day, and fans who care about Hanyu will watch the video. As a sports newspaper, we can’t avoid discussing jumps. Hanyu’s experience landing the 4Lz and his thoughts on the jump will likely come up in interviews, and this will be an essential part of the report. But does the accompanying image have to be a jump photo, or should the photographer find their own angle to capture the moment? I’m of the latter opinion."

 

Kogaito continued to photograph Hanyu during the practice sessions, capturing his attempts. During the event, Kogaito's attention was drawn to a large banner held by fans, which read “Yuzuru” in gold letters, with white wings on both sides. If the photos needed to follow a "fixed template" at the beginning of the season, it would probably be a shot of Hanyu skating during the practice session. What kind of jump would he perform? Or would he use spins and footwork to check the ice?

The journalist would write about what Hanyu looked like in the program, while the photo would serve as a “complement” to the report. In this way, Hanyu's "appearance" would be presented to the readers like a visual support, which is a method of communication.

 

However, after experiencing ACI, Kogaito saw that photos could transcend the report and communicate with the readers independently. It was no longer just a symbol from a practice session; he realized that even during practice, the charm of Hanyu could be captured. As he was thinking this, the white wings fluttered… Kogaito suddenly had a flash of inspiration: "I was thinking, when Hanyu is skating to the center, I’ll press the shutter, aim the lens, and capture that moment."

 

Then, by chance, Hanyu skated over, and the miracle happened. Between the two wings, he raised his arms towards the sky. His slender hands and soft fingertips, his gaze also lifted upwards. The banner’s wings seemed to wrap around his body, and in that instant, it was as if he was about to spread his wings and soar.

 

“This is it! This is the moment that makes a photographer’s heart race. Hanyu was even better than I had imagined, and this pose was as if he had grown wings. Even if I had aimed the camera to capture it or asked the subject to perform this action in advance, I don’t think I could have captured this shot. This is the most natural Hanyu, a miraculous shot.” Kogaito sent the photo out and promoted it to the newspaper: "I want to use this one."

 

This photo sparked a conversation among fans, and Sponichi even published it in the form of a foldable poster in the New Year's edition. The photo was treated as a special case and was extensively published.

 

Along with many significant milestones in Hanyu's life, his legend continues to grow. For example, he survived the Great East Japan Earthquake and challenged the World Championships for the first time in Nice, France, in March 2012, giving his all to Romeo and Juliet in the free skate. He became the second youngest skater in history to win at the Sochi Olympics with an explosive performance. He also collided with an overseas skater during a 6-minute practice session but still managed to complete the 2014 Cup of China despite being injured. He broke world records as the absolute champion at the 2015 NHK Trophy and Grand Prix Final. Additionally, he made a remarkable comeback in the free skate to reclaim the world champion title at the 2017 World Championships in Helsinki, Finland.

 

For fans, everyone has their own moment of getting into it, and it’s not limited to just one moment. Hanyu’s life is filled with many different milestones, all of which have become the main focus of news reports, with the photos only symbolically playing the "complementary role" in conveying these stories.

 

But the photo of Hanyu soaring with his wings was different. It was captivating because of the photo itself.

 

 

[yuzurujenn]

 Source: https://weibo.com/1683522853/P758nj4wE

 

 

Chapter 3 - Excerpts pt 3

 

Spoiler

The Photo of the Absolute King Begins to Change in Appearance

"It was originally a substance invisible to the naked eye, almost surrounded by an aura, floating as if ethereal. The photo I took was based on this imagery."

The free skate SEIMEI has already been called a legendary program of Hanyu's, and regarding this program, Kogaito is watching it for the second time after the ACI. His primary intention was to focus on the overall performance of the program when photographing it.

Even for photographers, gathering information is very important. To understand its tendencies, past videos and photos from other photographers can serve as references, but shooting in person is a rare and precious opportunity. Kogaito photographed SEIMEI from the front, above the judging seats, at the Russian Cup. When shooting from the front, he realized something. That is, SEIMEI required a tremendous amount of effort in choreography. From the front, especially close to the judging seats, it became clear how the program was expressed.

"I immediately understood that this was a program that must be shot from the front."

Kogaito thought from the beginning that he needed to make a clear distinction. "For this program, it cannot be treated like just any sports photo. I want to capture the worldview that Hanyu is expressing, those things that are attached to his body, which are invisible to the naked eye. Hanyu tries to express them. As a photographer, I was eager to capture everything, including these attachments. On the ice, during Hanyu’s SEIMEI, I could feel that there were substances surrounding him. Though it sounds abstract, this was what Hanyu was expressing. But the question was, could I capture this with my camera? While thinking about this, I pointed my lens toward him."

At this point, the photos of Hanyu Yuzuru as a subject in figure skating had undergone dramatic changes. Photos from other sports aside, the "captivating photos" style that began with Mainichi Sports was finally adopted by mainstream newspapers. Behind Kogaito, leading the way, was Nagakubo, who provided support within the newspaper company, while outside the newspaper, the fans offered their direct support. Since sports reports could only be communicated through newspapers, the internet became the channel for fans to connect with the photographer.

Mainichi Sports operated a Sponichi Annex website. Kogaito emphasized: "With the internet, there were more opportunities to publish photos myself. If it’s a newspaper, there’s only one photo, at most two. However, the space on the internet is limitless, though there’s a chance they may be overlooked. At least for one program, you can use 7-8 photos. In the newspaper, the selection of the photo ultimately comes down to the editor’s decision, but on the internet, because of the need for timeliness, it’s easier to use photos sent first by the photographer. Plus, you get immediate feedback. How the photos you selected are received becomes very clear. The photos from ACI and the soaring image from the Russian Cup became topics of conversation among fans. This was the first time I received recognition."

In the world of the internet, photos that receive little response will also face criticism, and photographers must accept this. Although it can be harsh, in a sense, the way you shoot and choose your photos is a test of your own taste. As a result, my sense of responsibility in photographing Hanyu grew. After the Russian Cup, Hanyu had the NHK Cup in the GP series, followed by the GPF, which would determine his 5th consecutive victory and Olympic selection. The question was whether there would be the 4CC or whether the Olympics would directly follow this event schedule.

However, everything took a dark turn. On the day before the NHK Cup began in November 2017, during the official practice, Hanyu fell on the landing of a 4Lz, injuring his right ankle. It was a serious injury that threatened his ability to compete in the Olympics. Hanyu would normally attend all the competitions with Kogaito there, but this time, other photographers went to capture the event, while Kogaito himself went overseas to cover the FIFA World Cup.

Kogaito saw the shocking images of Hanyu sitting on the ice online. He immediately accessed all the servers in the newspaper company to understand the situation of Hanyu after he fell, left the ice, and returned. He saved many photos of Hanyu.

After that, Hanyu missed the NHK Cup and did not participate in the GPF. He even missed the final Olympic selection event, the All-Japan Championships.

Thanks to his unquestionable accomplishments, including winning the 2017 World Championships, Hanyu secured his Olympic spot. This was his first official competition after his injury, and he directly stepped onto the stage to defend his Olympic title.
 

 

 

 

[yuzurujenn]

Source: https://weibo.com/1683522853/P8XfBggKe

https://weibo.com/1683522853/Pajt89stc

 

 

Chapter 4: Awakening

 

Spoiler

Chapter 4: Awakening

The Arrival of the Absolute King on the PyeongChang Ice

 

How much time has passed, really? After injuring his right ankle, Yuzuru Hanyu returned to Toronto and, before heading to South Korea for the Olympics, did not appear in public. Even the updates from the JSF (Japanese Skating Federation) were unclear. So, reporters, including myself, worked hard to gather information behind the scenes. To what extent had Hanyu's injury healed? How well had he adjusted for the upcoming Olympic competition? Back at the Sochi Olympics, he participated in the team event short program, which helped him perform well in the individual event. Would this time be different?

 

Every day, it’s just about confirming any updates from Toronto with the JSF board. Yoshiko Kobayashi, the figure skating reinforcement director, would always pull out her prepared notebook and read the latest news from Toronto about Hanyu. The reports varied from good to bad, but they all conveyed the message that Hanyu was determined to return. I would also pay attention to any more detailed news and try to convey it to readers through the pages of the newspaper. On the one hand, reporters had the opportunity to interview, but photographers did not have the opportunity to take pictures. Kogaito, the photographer, was simply waiting for the moment Hanyu would appear.

 

Finally, after a long period of silence, the clock towards Olympic title defense started ticking again. Unlike Sochi, Hanyu decided to skip the team event and focus on his individual competition. On February 11, Hanyu finally arrived in South Korea. At Incheon International Airport, which led to an expansive hall, a large number of media outlets gathered. I also took the KTX train from Gangneung Station, close to the Olympic venues, and waited at the arrival gate. There were not only Japanese media, but also international press and many fans eagerly awaiting his arrival. Then, Hanyu appeared. Members of the Japanese delegation surrounded him as if to protect him, and JOC (Japan Olympic Committee) staff worked to ensure his path was secure. Despite the long journey, Hanyu agreed to hold a press conference as soon as he left the airport.

 

Hanyu: “There were many competitions I couldn’t participate in, and I was very anxious about that. I did everything I could to recover, including ground training. Now, I’m adjusting in preparation for the competition. Honestly, I’m still determined to defend my title. I want to win more than anyone else. Compared to other athletes, I still have room to improve before reaching my peak.”

 

He answered the questions that the media was concerned about directly, which was a very Hanyu-style answer that understood the key points. However, Kogaito, at other competition sites, was unable to leave. After the event, he entered the company’s internal network to view photos (taken by others), and what left a deep impression was the way Hanyu cautiously left after answering the reporters' questions.

 

Kogaito: "I saw him in full fighting stance, aura so to speak, what I saw was his kingly demeanour in full swing."

 

On the 12th, Hanyu had his first official practice in South Korea. His road to defending his Olympic title was officially underway. For Kogaito, capturing a photo of Hanyu defending his crown would be the culmination of his work.

 

At the press office, the flow of online “breaking news” and photos changed in accordance with the evolving events. Regarding Hanyu’s movements, Mainichi Sports newspaper also made efforts to quickly confirm the content that needed to be posted online. The official practice on the 12th was not held on the main competition rink, but in the underground secondary rink. Kogaito had already arrived early at the rink and had a spot in mind for his shot. The previous year, the secondary rink had been used for practices during the Four Continents Championships, so Kogaito had already mentally mapped out the layout.

 

Kogaito: “I wanted to quickly convey the image of Hanyu looking full of energy to the fans. I aimed for the spot where he would enter the rink, hoping to capture the first shot.”

 

Hanyu appeared on the ice rink in a white Japanese team uniform with the Japanese logo embroidered on his left chest. He looked as if he were doing some warm-up exercises, laughing innocently and playfully, casting his gaze around. Kogaito didn’t miss the moment. He had already visualized the layout of the venue in his mind and set up his camera at the entrance and exit of the rink, ready to capture the moment Hanyu stepped onto the ice.

 

Kogaito didn’t adjust the shot but instead aimed to capture the image from a low-angle perspective, as he had planned, and successfully got the shot. This was the first time he photographed Hanyu after arriving in Pyeongchang. After Hanyu's injury at the NHK Trophy three months earlier, he hadn’t appeared at any official practices. Although Hanyu made a strong statement after landing in Incheon, South Korea, he didn’t release much more information. The performances he would give next would be the most anticipated of the Olympic Games, and fans were closely watching his every move. Hanyu’s smile at that moment indicated that he was doing well.

 

Kogaito wanted to share this photo with both readers and fans. Interestingly, in the photo, Hanyu was not holding the "partner" he usually carries, but rather a tissue box shaped like a cake. Due to sponsorship contracts, the Olympics prohibited items with any identifiable character designs.

 

Before his performance, Hanyu would do some stretching and then touch his Winnie the Pooh tissue box. However, this routine could not be followed at the Olympics.

 

 

Part 2:

Although this is a secondary venue, even without the Olympic logo in the photo, the absence of his "partner" is still an important indication that the venue is indeed the Olympic competition arena. Hanyu, who has recovered from his injury, stood on the Olympic stage. When Kogaito looked back at the scene, he believed that using these two elements in the photo was very meaningful. This was also the Olympics where online news spread rapidly. Kogaito realized the importance of breaking news at that point, and after shooting, he immediately transferred the photos to his computer and sent them to the photography department at the Tokyo headquarters.

 

As for the evaluation of this photo, it wasn’t the Hanyu who was in "battle mode" for the Olympics. It was a photo of him smiling, which may not be considered the "correct" type of photo in the traditional figure skating context. If Hanyu were competing, an editor might think that a photo of him skating on the ice would be more convincing. A jumping photo might express his comeback, but a smiling photo could be rejected. In fact, everyone, including the author, was focused on writing about the jumps Hanyu was doing. Just one fall could result in an old injury resurfacing, so the secondary venue was surrounded by an urgent sense of pressure. Hanyu performed his jumps very cautiously. Except for the Axel jump, 7 of the 8 jumps were single-rotations, the double jump was only a 2T. Only the last jump, the 3A, was a triple jump. Hanyu carefully checked the ice surface, performed 10 jumps, and made a very rare, brief 15-minute adjustment. Then he left the ice.

 

If you were to combine the report and the photos, Kogaito’s photo might seem out of place in that scene. He also admitted, "At least, such photos have not been published in sports newspapers so far. However, I personally think that the photos from the past were not very good. Nagakubo often searched for photos of Hanyu online, checking how fans would evaluate them and what kind of photos would be accepted. At that time, I didn't do that because I didn't have extra time. Back then, rather than competing with other photographers, I was more focused on taking good photos and striving to capture the ones I was satisfied with. It was Nagakubo who told me that photos of Hanyu that are cute and beautiful can capture the hearts of fans."

 

Kogaito: "Of course, my initial goal in shooting wasn’t to make the audience accept the photos or to gain fan support. Such flattering, superficial photos wouldn’t be accepted. That’s why my goal was to satisfy myself first, and if the fans were satisfied, that would be the ideal outcome. So, at that moment, I captured Hanyu’s cute side with my camera."

 

Hanyu would likely want people to capture beautiful, or even "cute" photos of him, which can be said to be part of his incredible charm. When he’s serious during competition, he certainly looks cool, but he’s also charming when he returns to his natural state. Whenever I raised my camera at the scene, I instinctively wanted to capture him, disregarding the necessary elements of sports reporting, such as jumps. I had a strong urge to capture other moments. I don’t think I have the same urge to photograph these moments with other athletes.

 

When Kogaito sent out the first photo that satisfied him, he also felt an increased sense of tension. Hanyu skating on the Olympic stage meant that results would come soon—the first men's Olympic gold defense in 66 years. After conveying the theme of the Winter Olympics, all that was on Kogaito’s mind was that moment.

 

"After the Olympics, many people will have seen about 100 photos of Hanyu. But after a month, a year, the photos gradually start to feel outdated. It’s the same with sports and reflecting on past events. Whether it’s an event or a social phenomenon, any scene will eventually condense into a single photo. Almost everyone’s memory of the moment the athlete wins the gold medal will be the same photo. I want to capture a photo that everyone will remember as the final one when recalling Hanyu’s history, especially his PyeongChang defense. Ten or twenty years later, when people reflect on Hanyu’s history and talk about his PyeongChang defense, I want them to remember the photo I took. That’s the kind of photo I want to capture."

 

Kogaito is usually a photographer who doesn't speak much, and I've never heard him talk about himself, but when reflecting on Pyeongchang, he became more talkative.

 

He said that it wasn’t confidence, but rather fear of the immense pressure.

 

He continued, "The more I understand the importance of capturing Hanyu, the more I feel scared. Honestly, while I was excited, when I raised my camera at the scene, I feared that I might not be able to make it. I feared that I might not be able to take a good photo. Considering the worldview Yuzuru Hanyu expresses and the high level of completion in his work, I wonder if I’ll be able to capture it. And when Hanyu is practicing or during official training, I can’t predict what he will do."

 

All I can say is that he does things beyond our imagination. When these surprises unfold right before my eyes, I fear whether I'll be able to handle it.

 

 

Part 3: 

"Regarding the handling of photos, I also place great importance on it. Hanyu’s photos have garnered attention from a different range of readers compared to before, so it’s not something that can be taken lightly. There is also competition between photographers. In the past, I just wanted to challenge myself. But when it came to photos of Hanyu, I didn’t want to back down. I wanted to capture the moment that symbolized his Olympic title defense. It’s not about fighting with other photographers at the same site. If you were to evaluate this aspect, I enjoy competition, and it’s a motivating factor for me. I pay attention to other photographers and also to colleagues from Mainichi in Tokyo. At that time, I was still considered an outsider from Osaka, not part of the main office. My position at the time was to capture photos that would amaze the company."

 

Kogaito always says: "There are many photographers who are better than me, and I don’t think my photos are that good. That's exactly why, if I were to digest my overly competitive mindset, it wouldn't be through taking good photos but by choosing to win through expressiveness."

He said, “Although I am not good at taking photos, I’ve always wanted to become a good photographer.

 

Take football as an example. Just because a team has excellent passers and shooters, it doesn’t necessarily mean they’ll win. Similarly, in the world of photography, sometimes even if the technical skills are lacking, one can still succeed. However, I have always struggled to capture a photo I am satisfied with. When I see other people's photos, everything is clear and perfect. On the other hand, I regret my own photos. I even dream of scenes of failure, like missing the moment when Hanyu won. I didn't know what happened (with Hanyu's victory) because I wasn't at the scene, and I panicked, shouting out in distress. It was nothing but nightmares, and it was with this mental state that I began the battle.

 

But I feel there’s this tendency that everyone’s photos are quite similar, so I started thinking about ways to take good photos. By doing so, I have a chance to win. When I took my first shot at Pyeongchang, I felt like I had found my rhythm."

 

As mentioned earlier, Hanyu performed 10 jumps that day, and the practice session only lasted 15 minutes. Kogaito was dispatched by the company with the mission to capture the Olympic record. So, he focused his lens on Hanyu’s practice session. How would Hanyu’s jumps look upon returning? That was a major focal point. What was Kogaito’s mindset at that time? The reporters at the site were all jotting down notes as they followed Hanyu’s jumps. Whether Hanyu would jump or not, if he could just capture that "evidence," that would be great. In the first official practice, whether he would jump or not, or even decide not to jump — all of these factors were likely part of his own strategic plan on the road to the Olympics.

 

"So, the jumps that day were a crucial element. Whether he jumped or not was something that could be known in the report. But how would Hanyu do it? Could we tell from his body lines and expressions? With this perspective, I focused my camera on him."

 

What surprised Kogaito was that it wasn’t the jumps but Hanyu seemingly drawing figures on the ice, skating in regular patterns. So, Kogaito captured this scene with his camera.

 

"This was my feeling at the scene. When I saw him skating the patterns, I thought he had recovered from his injury and was fine. Of course, I’m not an expert in skating, but I could tell from Hanyu’s smile."

 

That was the photo. A photo filled with a bright outlook for the Pyeongchang Olympics, showing Hanyu smiling as he skated in regular patterns. Although this photo wasn’t published in the next day’s newspaper, it was included in the photo book that was released later.

 

 

[yuzurujenn]

  Source:

 

https://weibo.com/3406979710/5112353350486583
https://weibo.com/6473801248/P5Ch5dQFo

https://weibo.com/3406979710/5112364982865505

https://weibo.com/3406979710/5112372761462522

https://weibo.com/6473801248/5112653044778645

 

 

Other Excerpts pt 1 - Kogaito Blue, 2019-2021

 

Spoiler

Kogaito’s considerations in capturing the transparent quality of Hanyu's skin

 

The ice surface reflects light, making objects appear to glow. Therefore, when photographing athletes on the ice, the brightness of the surface can make their figures look dark. If brightness is adjusted, the skin tones and overall photo will appear yellowish. In Kogaito’s view, this doesn’t correctly reflect the "transparency" of Hanyu’s skin:

 

"For a photographer, the basic theory is to faithfully recreate the scene through the lens, but if I can’t capture Hanyu’s transparency, it would be like violating that principle."

 

As a result, Kogaito chose to prioritize faithfully recreating the "transparency" of Hanyu's skin and thought of using high exposure to brighten the overall colour of the image. In the world of photography, overexposure is typically considered an error, but with this setting, the resulting image of Hanyu made his skin tone appear closer to his naturally translucent fair complexion. This is why Kogaito prefers to use overexposure when photographing Hanyu.

 

Additionally, news agency photographers must faithfully reproduce the colours of a scene. During photo reporting, a photography assistant holds a white sheet in front of the camera to allow the photographer to adjust the settings and ensure the white in the image is true white. However, Kogaito sets his camera to make white appear blue, as this better conveys Hanyu’s sense of transparency. By adding a layer of blue tones, the photos more closely resemble Hanyu’s skin transparency, with the rest of the image also taking on a faint blue tint.

 

 

2019 GP:

 

At the 2019 Grand Prix in Canada, Kogaito encountered an unexpected event. After the press conference, Kogaito waited in the hallway where the athletes would leave, holding a camera. While other photographers chose to shoot Yuzuru Hanyu during the press conference, Kogaito, after taking some shots from various angles, left the conference room. When he saw the lights illuminating the hallway, the varying strengths of the light and the background inspired his creativity.

 

"I thought that if I could capture a shot of Hanyu walking through, it would definitely make for a very cool photo."

 

After the press conference ended, Hanyu appeared. Just as Kogaito was ready to press the shutter, Hanyu, who was gradually approaching, suddenly spoke to him:

 

"Your photos of (other figure skaters, names mentioned) are really beautiful!"

 

Kogaito never expected to have the opportunity to speak with Hanyu. To him, Hanyu was like the sun, and he himself was merely a sunspot, just another photographer capturing Hanyu’s image through the lens.Even if Hanyu’s gaze lingered on one of the photos, Kogaito thought it was impossible that Hanyu would recognize his face or name. However, it was clear that Hanyu had recognized him and approached him to speak. For a moment, his hand froze on the shutter button.

 

"Even though I’m older than him, it’s embarrassing to admit that I was so nervous I became completely stiff... My heart was pounding, my pulse racing, emotions soaring. I didn’t even know what was going on, but that’s just how it felt (laughs)."

 

Facing Hanyu, who stopped and smiled as he spoke to him, Kogaito couldn’t think of anything clever to say in response.

 

"I just said 'thank you.' Honestly, just managing to say that one word was all I could do."

 

As for why Hanyu mentioned other skaters' names, Kogaito confidently said: "I think those who know Hanyu’s personality will understand. Hanyu is not likely to say things like ‘my photos are so cool’. It is his style to deliberately praise other skaters’ photos! Moreover, Hanyu not only looked at his own photos, but also looked at the photos of other skaters. I was so moved! As a photographer, his words are a huge motivation for me to keep working hard!"

 

 

Kogaito’s experience at the 2020 All Japan Championships:

 

Due to the pandemic, the 2020 All Japan Championships used a system where media outlets were assigned quotas and selected representatives to take photographs. Kogaito was chosen. However, being selected as the representative photographer meant that the photos needed to be suitable for use by all collaborating media, so they couldn’t emphasize individuality. Despite this, Kogaito decided to forgo compromise and continued to shoot using his signature method of overexposure and blue tones. On the first day the photos were sent out to various media agencies, Sponichi received complaints from other collaborating media because the photos provided by Kogaito didn’t align with the expectations of other outlets, especially non-sports media and local media, for what a sports photo should look like.

 

Kogaito said: "Because I was the representative photographer, I had to consider my colleagues in the media, but I couldn’t give up Hanyu’s transparency. I just couldn’t do it." "The colours that would work for an ordinary people just don't work when photographing Hanyu. But this point is always hard to convey. When I was asked 'Why is the portrait so white?' I was really frustrated."

 

 

 

2021 Worlds & Covid-19:

 

The 2021 World Championships were scheduled to be held in Stockholm, the capital of Sweden, and Hanyu decided to participate. Kogaito also applied to be on-site to take photos, but at that time, the management at Sponichi expressed concerns about the infection risks associated with staff travel and was unsure whether the Swedish government would issue entry permits. In this context, Kogaito looked into various ways to travel to Sweden, including entering via Qatar or Finland.

 

The entry requirements published by Sweden at the time stated that a special reason for entry needed to be provided. Since it was unclear whether reporting work would qualify, Kogaito wrote "short-term language study" as his reason for entry and also looked into language schools in Sweden.

 

At that time, some freelance photographers had already made preparations to depart, and the Yomiuri Shimbun, another news organization, was also planning to send a photographer. Sponichi had decided not to send a reporter but was still deliberating whether to send Kogaito. Despite the delay in decision-making, Kogaito told his former boss, Nagakubo, "Even if I resign from Sponichi, I still want to go to the event."

 

 

 

From the chapter "慈爱" (Compassion) regarding the two photos of Yuzuru Hanyu:

 

In the 2021 All Japan Championships, Kogaito had an especially deep impression of Hanyu’s performance.

 

It was his first competition of the season, an unexpected event, and it was also the competition that would decide the Beijing Olympic participation slots. Under such immense pressure, how would Hanyu show his competitive spirit? However, what he displayed was a demeanour that was the complete opposite of fierce determination—an ethereal expression.

 

Kogaito said, "As a figure about to face battle, he looked so fragile and ethereal, almost heartbreaking…"

 

Kogaito’s photos have a tone known as "Kogaito Blue." Regarding this, he explained: "You could say that it’s Hanyu who turned my photos blue. When I create images that suit him, the photos gradually take on a blue hue. It’s not that everything I photograph turns blue; sometimes I aim for a red tone. But during my time with Hanyu, the blue just naturally emerged in my mind. I also thought about why blue suits Hanyu so well. I think it’s because of his posture when he stands there, along with the atmosphere of his performances—so touching, fragile, and almost as if he could disappear at any moment. But at the same time, he radiates a powerful, undeniable presence. When I thought about how to capture that in a photo, I realized that blue was the most fitting colour."

 

Regarding the fighting spirit that envelops Hanyu, he said something very interesting: "Hanyu always displays a seething, blazing fighting spirit, but how should I put it, I feel that this fighting spirit is not 'yang' energy. It's not that red, burning feeling; rather, it's somewhat suppressed. Instead of a fully released fighting spirit, it’s more like it burns in a quiet way.”

 

These two photos were meant to showcase Hanyu’s unique ethereal, serene, deep blue quality, while still embodying a fiercely passionate fighting spirit—his "battle stance."

 

 

 

[yuzurujenn]

   Source:

https://weibo.com/6473801248/5113031319358140

https://weibo.com/7848586779/P5K9DwMpk

 

 

Other Excerpts pt 2 - About 2022 Beijing Olympics

 

Spoiler

Featuring the touching and somewhat humorous episode of Kogaito waiting for Yuzu in the snow:

 

 

During the Olympics, there was a mixed zone outside the Olympic Village where athletes and related personnel were accommodated. Photography was allowed here. From this spot, several hundred meters away, was the area the athletes would pass through after they arrived.

 

He was very aware that the chances of capturing a photo of Yuzuru Hanyu were slim.

 

But as long as there was even the slightest possibility, he didn’t want to miss that moment. On the 4th and 5th before the competition, Kogaito always came here. It often snowed, and he would stand there in thick clothing, enduring the sub-zero temperatures. Sometimes there would be other photographers and reporters from different news outlets, but when no one else was around, he would stand alone, waiting with his 600mm telephoto lens for that moment.

 

"Aren't you going to do anything else? Why are you just standing here?" a female staff member curiously asked.

 

"I'm waiting for Yuzuru Hanyu!" he replied.

 

The staff member nodded in understanding and said, "You're gambling on the chance of photographing a superstar! I hope you succeed!" She smiled and encouraged him.

 

For a photographer, when the subject doesn’t show up, it’s called “waiting in vain.” Day after day, the “empty wait” continued.

 

"It seems like he’s not coming today either."

 

His conversations with the female staff member slowly faded.

 

Nevertheless, believing in that small possibility and waiting was part of the job. He checked all the flights that had arrived in Beijing, calculated the travel times, and estimated that Hanyu might pass through this area sometime between the evening and 7 PM. Once he thought of it this way, he miraculously stopped feeling tired.

Other photographers from different outlets had already started shooting other events at the Olympic venues, but since Kogaito was the only photographer from Sponichi assigned to Beijing, during his wait for Hanyu, Sponichi didn’t receive any photos from Beijing.

 

 

About 4A

 

Did he succeed...?

 

However, in the next moment, Hanyu's right ankle injury finally gave way, and he collapsed onto the ice. His right ankle had already been overstrained. During the official practice the previous day, he had fallen while attempting a quadruple jump, resulting in a sprained ankle. Despite being advised to rest for ten days, he concealed the injury by using painkillers and insisted on taking to the ice for his free skate.

 

This highly difficult manoeuvre, which embodied the king’s will and pride, was not fully successful, but Hanyu made a historic attempt on the ice. His quadruple Axel was officially recognized by the International Skating Union (ISU) as a technical element, making him the first athlete in figure skating history to attempt this jump.

 

But this was not the end of the performance. Hanyu's expression was full of determination. He quickly got back up, and his eyes revealed a resolve: no matter what happened, he would complete his performance of Heaven & Earth. Even though the gold medal was now out of reach, that no longer mattered.

 

Kogaito, fully focused, pressed the shutter, and his heart swelled with excitement and emotion.

 

"Hanyu was determined to finish the program, and I couldn’t relax because of the result of the quadruple Axel. I told myself not only to capture this moment in full, but also to precisely capture every detail that came after, because this was the most important part of Hanyu’s story."

 

Hanyu poured his soul into the free skate. On the ice, he gazed up at the sky for a long time, lost in silence. In a subsequent interview, he shared the emotions deep within him:

 

"That movement symbolized ‘heaven’ in Heaven & Earth, and it expressed the image of my soul rising to the heavens. Actually, when I was 9 and skating to ‘From Russia with Love’, the final move was the same. The past me and the present me overlapped, and many complicated emotions stirred within me. It wasn’t until I finished that movement, ‘sheathing my sword,’ and left the ice that I felt it was the complete story of my performance."

 

After completing the symbolic gesture, Yuzuru returned to the edge of the rink and gently touched the ice. He then cupped the ice particles in his hands and brought them to his face, as if thanking the rink, and perhaps also marking the end of his own story.

 

As Kogaito continued to press the shutter, a sense of regret surged within him:

 

"If I had been in the ideal photographic position, I would have been able to capture Hanyu’s expression more clearly. Perhaps even the strength with which he clenched his fist, or the ice particles left in his hand. That moment could have been portrayed in a more delicate and perfect way."

 

At the PyeongChang Winter Olympics, Kogaito had captured the moment Yuzuru raised his arm in victory after winning the gold. But this time at the Beijing Winter Olympics, his lens recorded the story of this champion from the ‘back’.

 

 

[yuzurujenn]

   Source:

https://weibo.com/7848586779/P5KjPiB3T

https://weibo.com/7848586779/P5M21rKVI

https://weibo.com/3406979710/5112742656606736

 

 

Other Excerpts pt 3 - After turning professional

 

Spoiler

What a warm angel!

 

Regarding that SharePractice of Yuzuru Hanyu, Kogaito particularly mentioned a scene that left a deep impression on him:

 

"In the live broadcast, viewers flooded the comments, and Hanyu smiled when he saw all the comments coming in. I remember it was near the end of the practice, and as he looked at the comments, he seemed to be softly saying something. He covered his mouth with his left hand, joyfully chasing after the comments. This scene symbolized the interaction between him and his fans, and it was one of the highlights of the event. So, I published this photo of Yuzuru in colour on the page."

 

Soon after, Kogaito received a surprising invitation—to be the official photographer for the ice show notte stellata, which would be held in Hanyu’s hometown of Miyagi Prefecture in March 2023.

 

"Although I was the official photographer, the organizers didn’t impose many restrictions. They told me, 'We want you to take photos in your own style, feel free to express yourself.' Hearing such an invitation was truly shocking. At the same time, because the theme of the ice show involved 'earthquake disaster,' I felt a huge amount of pressure.

 

But if my photos can convey Hanyu's charm, I would be immensely grateful. I know that I’m not the main character; my role is to use my camera to convey Hanyu’s story to those who follow him."

 

Being the official photographer, a role that goes beyond traditional reporting, was a precious experience for Kogaito, allowing him to expand his horizons.

"I feel like this gave me the opportunity to step onto a new stage, which filled me with great anticipation."

 

In the past, Hanyu was always the subject of reports, and there seemed to be an "invisible wall" between them. However, being the official photographer meant crossing that "wall" and entering a different level. Kogaito described it:

 

"In this new position, I’m no longer just an external observer. I now feel like I am helping to create this performance together with him. From this perspective, I also realized that I am part of this ice show."

 

The time and opportunities for shooting increased many times over compared to the past. He was able to observe Hanyu more closely and learn more new details, which made him, as a photographer, even more eager to capture Hanyu’s charm.

 

During this collaboration, there was one particular moment that Kogaito will never forget.

 

During the rehearsal for the ice show, Hanyu proactively approached Kogaito, who was photographing. The show featured a performance between Hanyu and Kohei Uchimura, who is known as the "King of Gymnastics." Hanyu specifically asked about details of the performance, particularly about the visual effects of the curtain behind Uchimura's performance area, and asked for Kogaito’s opinion.

 

Such interaction not only surprised Kogaito, but also made him feel that his role in the ice show was more than just that of a recorder. He was part of the entire creative process. This deeper involvement made him more invested in his task and gave him a deeper understanding of Hanyu’s story.

 

"Will this scene be captured clearly?"

 

In response to Hanyu's question, Kogaito honestly replied, "The brightness difference between the ice and the curtain is too great, it’s hard to capture it clearly." Hanyu responded with professional photography terminology, "It’s an issue of exposure difference." From this exchange, Kogaito deeply felt how much Hanyu, as the director, was paying attention to the details of the entire performance. He was not only concerned about his own performance but also considering the presentation of the entire ice show from all angles.

 

Centered around Hanyu, the other skaters also blended into the performance, creating a highly accomplished show. Kogaito focused on using his camera to turn this wonderful ice show into a series of moving photographic works.

 

 

 

SOI 2023

 

During the 2023 SOI Ice Show, Kogaito, as the official photographer, decided to capture behind-the-scenes images of Hanyu. Beforehand, he was conflicted about whether his presence would affect Hanyu, intruding into a side of him that he didn’t show to the public. However, when he finally started shooting, he realized that the backstage Hanyu was completely consistent with the public-facing Hanyu. From warm-up to the opening of the performance, all the way to the end, there was no "off" state. Hanyu was always fully engaged, and no moment was unsuitable to be seen. Even backstage, where normally no one would pay attention, Hanyu unconsciously carried an awareness of being observed, and every movement was worthy of being captured.

 

 

 

 

Notte & Danny Boy

 

Another miraculous work, Danny Boy. The glowing light dots from fans' wristbands perfectly match the ice show theme, “A Sky Full of Stars”!

 

Kogaito paid special attention to Hanyu's new program, Danny Boy. "I personally feel that Hanyu is very well-suited to piano pieces. Since Introduction and Rondo Capriccioso, it’s been a long time since he performed a piano piece. Therefore, I had very high expectations for this program."

 

During the rehearsal, Kogaito briefly exchanged pleasantries with Hanyu. He didn’t say much because he believed it was more appropriate to maintain a proper distance between himself and the subject.

 

In the field of sports journalism, many media professionals enjoy forming personal relationships with athletes, even taking pride in it: "I’ve had meals with a certain athlete." "I have a great relationship with a particular competitor."

 

Kogaito, however, is not interested in such practices.

 

"Perhaps I lack that effort to actively get closer. So, I don’t deny journalists or photographers who build relationships through personal contact. However, I believe there is another way for performers and photographers to communicate—through the work itself. Through my photos, I want the subject to understand and recognize me. This is the kind of exchange I’m aiming for."

 

For Hanyu, who is often referred to as the "Sun," Kogaito always maintains boundaries. He doesn’t want to step into areas outside of figure skating. He feels that the photos he takes may not always be the best, but if Hanyu can recognize him through them, that is enough. Therefore, even in the rehearsal space where official photographers can move freely, he remained silent, focused entirely on the camera, and shot every frame with utmost dedication.

 

Regarding Danny Boy, Kogaito began thinking about how to capture the unique aura that Hanyu radiates while wearing his pure white costume, considering angles and composition. Once the performance officially began, an unexpected image became the key inspiration.

 

In the opening program notte stellata, countless tiny light points appeared behind Hanyu. These points of light came from glowing wristbands held by the audience. "I didn’t know such a scene would happen during the rehearsal. I never expected such beautiful light to pour down from the audience."

 

These unexpected glimmers added a new dimension to Kogaito’s lens, allowing him to capture a moment that was both dreamlike and emotional. This not only showcased Hanyu’s stage charm but also perfectly matched the ice show theme, "A Sky Full of Stars."

 

Each of those light points may not have been particularly bright, much like the faint stars in the distant night sky. However, when the light from numerous fans gathered together, it resembled "A Sky Full of Stars," enveloping Hanyu in a soft, twinkling glow.

 

Behind Hanyu, a large spotlight shone like a full moon. Typically, on a full moon night, the stars are obscured. However, the light points from the fans seemed to create a starry sky under the full moon. This scene became the best photographic spot inspired by notte stellata.

 

One year later, the fans in the audience created another "A Sky Full of Stars" with their light, as if responding to the starlight that Hanyu had presented the year before. Kogaito recalled:

 

"This is my imagination, but I think that for Hanyu, that 'sky full of stars' may be the presence of fans. After the Great East Japan Earthquake, he might not have been able to continue his beloved figure skating. But in the night sky of the evacuation center, he saw a ‘sky full of stars,’ which seemed to infuse him with the light of hope, almost like guiding the direction of his future.

 

Now, in his professional career, Hanyu has faced many challenges, but the constant support of his fans has turned into "sky full of stars" and always surrounds him. In the photos from that day, I felt this scene—like a response from the fans to the ‘sky full of stars’ created by Hanyu a year ago."

 

Kogaito has his own creed when it comes to photography: by capturing every movement and expression of Hanyu, the audience can naturally feel his emotions and expression. Therefore, he believes that Hanyu’s response to the fans’ "A Sky Full of Stars" is not accidental.

 

Furthermore, he noticed a change in Hanyu’s expression in his second year of professional career.

 

"I felt a kind of loving tenderness. His expression was peaceful, and the entire performance seemed to wrap people in 'goodwill,' leaving a deep impression."

 

 

[yuzurujenn]

   Source: https://weibo.com/7848586779/P5M9GoGd9

 

 

Other Excerpts pt 4 - 2nd anniversary as a Professional

 

Spoiler

On July 12, 2024, Kogaito met Yuzuru Hanyu face-to-face in a photography studio in Sendai. This interview and photoshoot were to commemorate the two-year anniversary of Hanyu's transition to a professional figure skater, coinciding with a special feature by Sponichi. Kogaito worked alongside Hanyu's exclusive reporter, Hiroaki Yamato, to handle the task.

 

Despite a very busy schedule, Hanyu made time to spend an hour and a half for interviews and a photoshoot with Sports Hochi and Sponichi. At the beginning of the session, Hanyu participated in a 10-minute joint interview, followed by 40 minutes with each media outlet for exclusive time. Sports Hochi focused on a more in-depth interview with Hanyu, while Sponichi allocated the remaining time entirely to Kogaito for a special photoshoot.

 

For this session, Kogaito chose "white" as the theme for the photoshoot.

 

The two-year milestone of Hanyu’s professional skating career is not only an important achievement but also marks the beginning of a new chapter in his third year. Hanyu continuously strives for evolution and embraces new challenges. In Kogaito's view, white symbolizes infinite possibilities; it can be infused with any colour, just as Hanyu continues to explore new areas in his skating career. Therefore, Kogaito chose "white" to represent Hanyu's state—both a starting point and a pure colour full of potential for creating a future.

 

"White is the starting point and fusion of all colours, symbolizing the infinite potential and freedom Hanyu possesses. He can always assign new meanings to himself," Kogaito explained his photographic philosophy. This photoshoot not only documented Hanyu's professional journey over the past two years but also served as a pure and hopeful symbol for the start of his third year.

 

To complement the white costume Hanyu wore, Kogaito personally selected white lace fabric. He carefully chose the lace at a fabric wholesale market in Nippori, Tokyo, to find the one that best suited Hanyu's image.

 

After changing into the shoot costume, Hanyu stood face-to-face with Kogaito. This was the first time they had a 1-on-1 photoshoot since Hanyu's first year as a professional skater during the SharePractice event at Sendai Ice Rink. At that time, Hanyu had allocated exclusive time for each media outlet, and Kogaito was impressed by his creativity.

 

During that photoshoot, Kogaito had suggested: "Like in The Phantom of the Opera or Masquerade, try placing your hand in front of your face." Upon hearing this, Hanyu immediately visualized the scene and struck several poses that met the request. Kogaito was amazed, saying, "He responded to my request with minimal direction and even showed me images beyond what I imagined."

 

This time was no different.

 

Once the set was ready, Hanyu asked, "Do you want a bright style?" Kogaito responded, "Please express a soft and profound feeling."

 

Hanyu stood barefoot behind the white lace fabric, which hung from the ceiling. Following Kogaito's suggestion, he draped the lace over his head like a veil, partially obscuring his face, and responded to several specific shooting instructions. During the photoshoot, Hanyu also selected and played background music from his phone that matched the atmosphere, adding a layer of delicate emotional expression to the shoot.

 

Through this photoshoot, Kogaito once again felt that Hanyu is not only a genius in figure skating but also possesses a strong sense of the camera and artistic expression. Every movement and glance he made accurately conveyed the photographer’s vision and even elevated it.

 

 

[Martina]

On 12/25/2024 at 5:47 PM, yuzurujenn said:

There are two photos here: one shows Hanyu, adrenaline fully flowing, posing as the absolute champion after completing his challenge. He shows a deeply serious expression, a moment where he overcame his injuries and was certain he could defend his honour. The other photo shows him from behind, challenging an unprecedented skill and ending his battle with himself, reflecting his solitary existence.

 

The background of these photos corresponds to two monumental moments: the first, after his victory in the 2018 PyeongChang Olympics where he defended his Olympic title, a feat not accomplished in 66 years; the second, when the ISU recognised him for attempting the first-ever quadruple Axel at the Beijing Olympics. The photographer of both images was Kogaito of Sponichi.

Hi,
I bought the digital version of the book while I was in Japan. These are the photos mentioned in this passage.

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1v1GUo2AwhCt8-SjkHye9Vn9zfwN7ckBa/view

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1YYbqfpka2z9vdShg6t9F6akfBhkxUwT_/view

I have no idea if there are better ways to share images on this site.

I haven't read the other messages yet, so I don't know how complete your translation is, but I can always take more screenshots if needed.

[yuzurujenn]

*Machine translation. Inaccuracies may exist*

 

 

Chapter 1: Indomitable Spirit

 

1.1 The 2014 Sochi Olympics, during the days covering the (Hanshin) Tigers

 

Spoiler

February 14, 2014. In Sochi, Russia, a new chapter was written in the history of Japanese figure skating. Competing for Japan in the men's singles event at the Sochi Winter Olympics, Yuzuru Hanyu won the gold medal, becoming the first Japanese man ever to claim Olympic gold in figure skating. At 19 years and 69 days old, he was also the second-youngest men's Olympic figure skating champion in history.

 

That season, Hanyu achieved his first victory at the Grand Prix (GP) Final held in Fukuoka in December 2013, surpassing Patrick Chan (Canada), who was a three-time world champion. He then secured victory at the All-Japan Championships at the end of the year, earning his place on the Olympic team.

 

At the Sochi Olympics, he competed in the short program of the team event before the individual event. The team event, a new competition introduced at the Sochi Olympics, featured 10 teams competing in four disciplines: men's and women's singles, pairs, and ice dance. Representatives from each country/region competed to showcase their nation's overall strength.

 

For Japan’s men’s team, besides Hanyu, Tatsuki Machida and Daisuke Takahashi were also selected. As a result, Hanyu competed in the short program and Machida in the free skate for the team event.

 

In the men's short program of the team event, Hanyu competed on the same stage as his childhood idol, Russia's Evgeni Plushenko, and scored a remarkable 97.98 points, the highest overall. Riding that momentum into the individual event, he delivered a sensational performance to "Parisienne Walkways" in the short program. His score of 101.45 points not only made him the first skater in history to break the 100-point barrier in an ISU-sanctioned competition, but also set a new world-record score at the time. Going into the free skate in first place, he made some mistakes but still held off his challengers to claim the title.

 

On March 11, 2011, Hanyu was practicing on the ice when the Great East Japan Earthquake struck, and he and his family were forced to live in an evacuation center. Even so, he continued to skate in the face of adversity.

 

In March 2012, he won the bronze medal in his debut at the World Championships, establishing himself as a strong candidate for the Olympic team. The following season, he moved to Toronto, Canada, to train under Brian Orser. There, he refined his beautifully executed quadruple toe loop and Salchow, often regarded as textbook jumps, as well as his triple Axel (a triple-and-a-half rotation jump), known for its exceptional height and distance.

 

During the 2014 Winter Olympics, Kogaito was busy working as a photographer covering the Hanshin Tigers baseball team at the Sponichi Osaka headquarters, far away from Sochi, Russia.

 

Sports newspapers differ greatly between their Tokyo and Osaka editions. In the Osaka edition, regardless of the publisher—Sponichi, Nikkan Sports, Sankei Sports, or Daily Sports—the front page is, as a rule, dominated by coverage of the Hanshin Tigers. The only exception is Sports Hochi, which primarily focuses on the Yomiuri Giants.

 

Unlike general newspapers delivered to homes, sports newspapers are not only distributed by subscription but also compete heavily in the “instant sales” market at station kiosks and convenience stores. Targeting mainly office workers, they are often quickly picked up during busy commutes, drawn in by eye-catching front-page headlines. The front page of a sports newspaper is, in effect, the “face” of that day’s edition. In the Kansai region, almost all readers are interested in the results and developments of the Hanshin Tigers.

 

Reporters and photographers assigned to cover the Hanshin Tigers, who attract strong reader attention, are known as “toraban” (Tiger beat reporters). Top-tier reporters and photographers in this role often become well-known even among general readers.

 

Kogaito was also one of these “toraban.” Day after day, he followed Hanshin news and kept pressing the shutter, aiming to capture photos worthy of the front page.

 

Hanyu’s gold medal at the Sochi Olympics was featured day after day on news programs and sports broadcasts across Japan, especially in Tokyo, sparking a nationwide frenzy. However, Kogaito only has a faint memory of such excitement in Osaka.

 

“It felt somehow distant, like something from another world,” he said.

 

To reiterate, “toraban” reporters and photographers are among the most coveted positions in Osaka’s media circles. However, Kogaito admits, “Back then, I was struggling.”

 

In Hanshin Tigers coverage, exclusive scoops on star players, as well as trades and personnel decisions, quickly make the front page. As a result, competition among “toraban” reporters is fierce. I myself once covered the Hanshin Tigers for the Sankei Shimbun. During that time, I witnessed a young sports reporter being reprimanded the following morning by the “toraban” chief simply for failing to file a brief comment from a player.

 

It is not uncommon for boys who grew up as Hanshin Tigers fans to dream of becoming newspaper reporters, only to become “toraban” staff and then request a transfer because the job is not a good fit for them.

 

Kogaito, too, was removed from the “toraban” beat not long after joining the company. However, he fought his way back and was beginning to establish himself as a respected figure within the organization.

 

It wasn’t that he wanted to run away. He simply couldn’t stand staying where he was. That is why it was so difficult.

 

“If you become a toraban reporter or photographer, there are various stories about Hanshin every season, and in Osaka they are widely covered. Having your photo appear on the front page is deeply rewarding as a photographer. But for me, I found it difficult to constantly photograph the Tigers. I have tremendous respect for colleagues who continue shooting Hanshin and build their reputations that way. It is by no means easy to keep doing it. But I am the type of person who seeks different kinds of stimulation, and I wanted new challenges. I wanted to take on not only the Olympics and the FIFA World Cup, but also other professional baseball teams besides Hanshin, Major League Baseball, and international tournaments like the World Baseball Classic (WBC) as a photographer. If I had originally chosen to become a toraban photographer, I might have maintained higher motivation. But when I decided to become a photographer, covering a specific beat was not something I had in mind, and that may have influenced things.”

 

 

1.2 Stubbornly refused to shave his head for the baseball team
 

Spoiler

Kogaito was born in 1983 in Tsu City, Mie Prefecture. From elementary school through junior high school, he was a sporty boy who was passionate about basketball. Influenced by his baseball-loving father, he also played softball in elementary school, and even during junior high school, he would go to a nearby batting cage with his father after basketball practice.

 

He was said to have been good at academics. His best subjects were Japanese, art, and physical education, and he also enjoyed writing. Overall, including other subjects, he ranked among the top students in his local junior high school.

 

He went on to Mie Prefectural Tsu High School, one of the prefecture’s top-ranked academic schools. At that time, perhaps to fulfill his father’s wish for him to play baseball, he joined the school’s baseball team. However, Kogaito would leave the team after only a year and a half.

 

The reason, which would later connect to Kogaito’s sense of pride as a photographer, was that he could not adapt to the old-fashioned atmosphere of the team.

 

The baseball team at this academically competitive high school had no connection to the Koshien tournament and was considered a weak team. Despite this, its practices were no different from those of other schools. He grew weary of the meaningless shouting and had lost the joy he once felt for baseball when he used to go to the batting cages.

 

A decisive incident occurred in the spring of his second year. One of the upperclassmen moved to change the previously unrestricted hairstyle rules.

 

“If we’re aiming for Koshien, we’ve gotta have a buzz cut, right?”

 

Those with the loudest voices set the tone, and everyone else had no choice but to follow. However, Kogaito was not convinced. Would shaving his head really guarantee a trip to Koshien? He grew fed up with such simplistic thinking and the oppressive atmosphere of conformity. Before he knew it, he was the only team member who still showed up to practice with long hair.

 

One day, the senior who insisted on a buzz cut and the team captain summoned him to the club room next to the field. “Why won’t you cut your hair? Shave it right here and now.”But the more they tried to pressure him with force, the more stubbornly he refused to shave it. The discussion went nowhere, and before long it was past 11 p.m. The only people left at school were the coach, who was turning a blind eye to the players being forced to shave their heads, and the three of them who were still continuing the argument.

 

Just then, the familiar sound of a truck engine approached the field.

 

“Let my son out (let him go home)!”

 

Kogaito knew immediately. “Dad’s here.” His father, a plasterer, hated anything dishonest or unjust. Having vaguely known that Kogaito was refusing to shave his head, he had come to check on him, worried about his son being late getting home.

 

Kogaito saw the coach rush out of the staff room onto the field.

 

In the end, the coach intervened for the first time, and it was confirmed that shaving one’s head was not mandatory. However, he felt uncomfortable in the club and soon chose to quit.

 

After quitting the baseball team, Kogaito began to follow his own path.

 

He dedicated himself to soccer, a sport almost the complete opposite of baseball.

 

Although Kogaito had been passionate about basketball and baseball during elementary and junior high school, his true “companion” during the time he spent alone after school was, in fact, a soccer ball.

 

Because his father worked as a plasterer and his mother as a nursery school teacher, both often came home late around 6–7 p.m. Because of the age difference with his older sister, who was eight years older, they never played together.

 

Due to his mother’s educational policy, there was no television at home, and he had never played video games or been interested in them. “All I could do was read books or play outside,” he said. “Basically, I liked being alone. It was easier for me to play by myself.” Even as a photographer, Kogaito prefers not to socialize in groups, which likely stems from this innate personality.

 

Practicing wall-bouncing with either a baseball or a soccer ball against a nearby wall was part of his daily routine. Even after his parents came home and dinner was finished, he would head to the wall under the overpass, calling it his “night sessions.” Relying on the light of streetlights, he would sometimes play alone until around 11 p.m.

 

“That’s why I’ve been playing with a soccer ball since the lower grades of elementary school.”

 

In addition, from first grade onward, he would run more than 5 kilometers almost every day at night to build endurance. He enjoyed running and would also run alone around the school grounds during breaks and after school.

 

“Of course I had friends. But I was more suited to working on things quietly on my own. In elementary school, if you’re good at sports, people respect you, right?”

 

In fact, Kogaito was popular at school and even served as student council president.

 

There was another reason he kept running.

 

“I’m extremely competitive.”

 

In a marathon held in first grade of elementary school, he came in first place. At the time, he felt the result simply came from running with all his might. However, he hated the idea of finishing second or lower in the annual marathon year after year, so he kept running seriously. He didn’t want to give up first place to anyone. He held onto the top spot for six years.

 

Having chosen baseball over basketball, Kogaito turned to soccer after that path closed off to him. He looked for a team that would accept him despite his lack of experience. His research led him to a youth club team in Aichi Prefecture, adjacent to Mie Prefecture. The train ride from his home took about 1.5 to 2 hours each way. Nevertheless, he kept going, determined to continue playing soccer.

 

At first, he was looked down upon by his teammates. He motivated himself by calling himself “street soccer–bred,” having honed his skills through wall practice, and made up for it with his stamina and speed. Gradually, he began to get playing time. He played as a forward and continued until his third year of high school. In his final match before retirement, they faced a strong team from the same region. They suffered a heavy defeat, but the team’s only goal came from Kogaito’s foot. “I scored the last goal myself in the end.” Along with a sense of accomplishment, it sparked in him a desire to continue playing soccer in university.

 

He went on to enter Waseda University’s School of Human Sciences, Department of Sport Sciences. He chose it partly because he wanted to become a trainer responsible for athletes’ physical care in the future, and also because he wanted to continue playing soccer at university.

 

 

1.3 Rejection from joining the club, cancellation of job offer; a series of setbacks at Waseda University

 

Spoiler

After knocking on the door of the athletic soccer club (Waseda University Association Football Club), Kogaito once again experienced a setback caused by a seemingly unreasonable situation.

 

This prestigious club, which has produced J-League players, includes a group of “sports-recommended admissions.” Other first-year students, including Kogaito, were required to pass a selection process.

 

The selection method consisted simply of running. Endurance runs and cross-country runs in a park beside the training ground were conducted, and anyone who failed to finish within the designated time was disqualified. For Kogaito, it felt like a perfect opportunity.

 

For first-year students aiming to play soccer in the athletic program at Waseda University Association Football Club, even those without recommendation status, Kogaito was at a disadvantage if judged on technical ability since he had no prior club experience. However, he did have something to rely on: endurance, built up since his elementary school days.

 

Around him were players who had been regular starters at strong high school teams, as well as those who had played in J-League youth academies. About 30 candidates took part in the selection process, but one by one, many of the promising players dropped out. In the end, Kogaito survived the race, and only fewer than ten freshmen were ultimately accepted into the club.

 

“So they even accept amateurs.”

 

He came to like the open atmosphere of Waseda University Association Football Club even more. However, when Kogaito received the membership application form, he was troubled. There was nothing to write in the section for his soccer experience. In the end, he had no choice but to list his experience in other sports and submit it.

 

He was then called in by the captain.

 

“Have you never been part of a soccer club?”

 

“No.”

 

“In the history of our club, we have never taken someone like that before. We cannot allow you to join.”

 

Kogaito was deeply shocked.

 

“In hindsight, if I had bowed my head and begged them to let me in, saying I would work hard, I might have been accepted. But at the time, I was disappointed, or rather, I accepted it, thinking, ‘So Waseda is like that too.’”

 

Kogaito joined a soccer circle made up mostly of students from the Faculty of Human Sciences. It was not part of the athletic program, but rather a group that simply played soccer for enjoyment. Events such as welcome parties for new students, summer training camps, Christmas gatherings, and farewell parties for graduating members were central to the circle’s activities, with drinking parties forming one of its main pillars. Kogaito, who was not comfortable in group settings, was never at the center of the circle and instead remained a somewhat detached participant, simply taking part in activities in a passive way.

 

Meanwhile, his preparations to pursue a career as a trainer were going well, and he also took part in an internship at a well-known gym in Japan.

Through the “e-School” distance learning program, he also gained experience working part-time as an “educational coach,” supporting students in their studies.

 

During this period, several “connections” that would later lead him toward becoming a sports photographer began to emerge.

 

For example, one of the students he worked with in class was Yukari Nakano, who was competing at the top level of women’s figure skating in the world.

 

At his internship, he also happened to meet a photographer from the major publishing company Kodansha, who was there for a photography assignment. On his first day of training, Kogaito accidentally dropped a 10-kilogram barbell plate onto his foot, breaking his little toe. He had come for a trainer internship, yet ended up needing rehabilitation himself. It was this photographer who smiled and encouraged the dejected Kogaito.

 

As a fourth-year university student, Kogaito began his job search in earnest while exploring the possibility of becoming a sports trainer. Around that time, he received a job offer from a pharmaceutical company. Later, he was also informally offered a position as a trainer at the gym where he had interned. With his future suddenly opening up, Kogaito decided to stay true to his original goal and informed the pharmaceutical company that he would decline the offer in order to pursue a career as a trainer.

 

In the summer of his fourth year, as he prepared for employment, he underwent training through an internship as a trainer. The job offer he received was from a regional gym far from Tokyo and also distant from his hometown of Mie. This period was also marked by a wave of anxiety about working as a trainer and living in a rural area all at once.

 

“I was feeling a bit nervous myself.”

 

Perhaps sensing his state of mind, a shocking incident followed. In December, just before graduation, he received an email from the gym cancelling his job offer. No clear reason was given, but it was certain that his planned career as a trainer had fallen through. As a result, his post-graduation path was suddenly left undecided.

 

At that time, the term “second-time job seeker” had not yet become common, and job hunting favored students who were still expected to graduate over those who had already graduated. Kogaito therefore felt he could not afford to graduate as things stood, and had no choice but to repeat a year in order to remain enrolled at the university.

 

 

1.4 The path to becoming a sports photographer
 

Spoiler

With his future plans suddenly back to square one and the unexpected prospect of a fifth year at university, Kogaito decided not to devote himself solely to job hunting, and instead began to entertain some unconventional ideas.

 

With an extra year of student life, his passion for football reignited.

 

“I couldn’t play soccer in the university athletic club, and I wasn’t a central figure in my circle activities either. I always had this lingering feeling of dissatisfaction, that I hadn't fully committed myself to soccer or sports in general. With my university life extended by a year, I didn’t want to just go through job hunting again. Before entering the workforce and becoming a working adult, I wanted to achieve a sense of fulfillment, something that would make me feel I had truly given it everything I had.”

 

Kogaito had his eye on a certain team, a professional beach soccer club in Okinawa that had once experienced becoming Japan’s best.

 

He was determined to somehow play there. With no connections whatsoever, he reached out to the team anyway. They replied, “Just come down and give it a try.” Delighted by those words, he made his way to Okinawa.

 

He was practically a novice at soccer and had no experience at all in beach soccer. His feet kept getting caught in the sand, which presented a different kind of difficulty compared to a dirt pitch. He started out by picking up balls, but little by little, his progress in training began to be recognized. He never had the chance to appear in official matches, but in the end, they arranged a practice match just for him. He played in an attacking position, like the forward role he had played in high school, and ran desperately across the sand.

 

“I guess I really didn’t have talent after all (laughs). But I was able to take on the challenge and bet on my potential. I can’t say I have no regrets, but I was able to end my soccer career with a sense of satisfaction.”

 

Kogaito had begun exploring job opportunities again from December of his fourth year at university. He no longer aimed to become a trainer; the disappointment of having that path taken away had also left him unmotivated. Even so, he still wanted to be involved in sports and was researching what kinds of fields might exist. During a period when he still couldn’t decide on a direction, he confided his worries to a photographer from Kodansha whom he had met during an internship.

 

“Aren’t you interested in photography?”

 

It was a world he had never even considered before, but Kogaito, who had always been good at art and liked it as a subject, began to feel a slight interest.

 

Then the photographer gave him a film camera and a digital camera. There were also five or six lenses, covering different focal lengths.

 

“You can pay me back when you make it. Just give it a try.”

 

Kogaito immediately set out on a journey with his camera in hand. He traveled around Japan and overseas as he pleased, continuously pressing the shutter. He particularly focused on photographing children, as well as the Moai statues on Easter Island in Chile and Inti Raymi in Peru, known as one of South America’s three major festivals. It was during this time that he truly experienced the simple joy of taking photographs. When he pointed the lens, the camera became a medium through which communication with children emerged. As that communication deepened, the photographs themselves began to change.  Moreover, the joy of expressing what he had captured as finished works, and the act of aiming the lens while anticipating the next moment, gave him a sensation similar to playing a sport.

 

Looking back now, this became the very foundation of him as a photographer, his original landscape, so to speak. Drawn to the world of photography, Kogaito came to want to become a sports photographer who connects sports and cameras.

 

It is said that many photographers at major newspaper companies, what are known as general newspapers, come from art universities or have been active in photography clubs during university. He felt that he could not compete with such people in terms of experience. At that time, the photographer from Kodansha whom he had consulted advised him, “Sports newspapers probably don’t care as much about experience.”

 

He realized: he could photograph sports. Sports newspapers, in fact, felt like the perfect workplace for him. Nikkan Sports, his father’s favorite newspaper, and Sports Nippon, which he often saw at train station kiosks, came to mind. He requested application forms from these two companies and began his second round of job hunting.

 

He decided he would do everything he could.

 

He contacted Yukari Nakano and asked if he could photograph her figure skating practice sessions. Nakano welcomed him warmly, and they even created a photo book. Fumie Suguri, also a Waseda University alumna who trained at the same rink, also allowed him to take photographs. This was in 2006. Suguri had placed fourth at the Turin Olympics, and Nakano was also active as a top-level skater at the time.

 

“When I look back at them now, they’re just ordinary practice photos with nothing distinctive, and it’s really embarrassing. But it was an incredibly valuable experience, and I’m truly grateful to the two of them for their cooperation.”

 

The hiring exams for sports newspapers were for general-track positions, covering reporters, photographers, and back-office staff such as HR and general affairs in a single recruitment process. Kogaito strongly emphasized his goal of becoming a sports photographer and succeeded in securing a job offer from Sports Nippon. He was a reserve candidate for Nikkan Sports. Depending on the outcome of that result, the landscape of figure skating photojournalism might have been significantly different.

 

 

1.5 Wanting to take photos unlike anyone else's

 

Spoiler

“I became a photographer because I wanted to take photos that are different from others.”

 

From the very beginning, Kogaito’s aim was to pursue an “independent path.”

 

In the world of sports photojournalism, there are certain “standard” types of photographs that are valued within the profession.

 

For example, in figure skating photography, it used to be that for male skaters, the key moment was the instant they were performing a jump, while for female skaters it was the spiral position.

 

From the skaters’ perspective, even if their jumping posture looks beautiful, the facial expression during rotation is often a moment they would prefer not to have photographed.

 

Such photographs have become less common due to criticism from readers. However, there were also other “essential elements” that were required, such as making sure the skates are visible, or that hand movements clearly convey that the skater is dancing.

 

To put it bluntly, even if a photographer captured a great expression, it was not uncommon for them to receive a harsh phone call from the desk editor responsible for selecting images for the next morning’s newspaper, saying, “You can’t even tell what sport this is from this photo.”

 

Of course, there is also logic specific to sports reporting. While television conveys the results of competitions through video footage, newspapers must tell the story with text articles and only one or two photographs.

 

In an era when fewer people are reading newspapers, the “entry points” for those who do look at the page are the headline and the photograph, which tell readers what sport the article is about. Only then do interested readers proceed to the article itself.

 

Therefore, headlines must be impactful, and photographs are required to instantly make clear which sport the article is about.

 

“Clear and simple.” Sports photographers have long been evaluated based on their ability to consistently capture such images in any situation. As a model of sports photojournalism accumulated over many years, this approach was taught by senior photographers, practiced by themselves, and passed on to juniors.

 

Kogaito, who now photographs figure skating, says:

 

“The photographs used in sports reporting that have been passed down since long ago serve the role of conveying information to a wide readership. Sports newspapers are media that primarily focus on sports reporting, but depending on the sport, the coverage is not always very in-depth. In professional baseball, for example, where a long history has been accumulated over many years, articles that appeal to knowledgeable readers are often preferred. However, when covering a general sport such as figure skating, it is necessary to create a broad, accessible, and easy-to-understand layout, like a 'general sports newspaper.' But I think that also means sports reporting articles and photographs have not been updated. It’s like, ‘Since it’s figure skating, it’s jumps, right? Photos of them skating are good, and the whole body, including the skates, should be shown.’ That ‘standard format’ was treated as the norm, and I think no one sought change.”

 

Yutaka Nagakubo, who was the head of the photography department at the time and a close confidant of Kogaido, reflects:

 

“I started photographing figure skating on-site a little before the 1998 Nagano Olympics. Back then, there were no digital cameras, and everyone used 36-exposure film. There was no time to change film during a performance, so everyone was competing over what they could capture within 36 shots. You had to take 5 or 6 shots at the beginning of the performance, capture skating movements as the routine got underway, and still save 5 or 6 shots for the final celebratory moment. That meant you could only actually photograph about 15 shots of the performance itself. At that time, Takeshi Honda was a top male skater who could perform quadruple jumps, so jumps became the main theme for men. And for women, it was the visually elegant spiral. Back then, even scenes of falls and mistakes were considered picturesque, and such images were often featured in newspapers. The photos themselves were what Kogaito called ‘standard-format’ photos—vertical shots showing the full body, which was considered the norm. The internet was still not widespread, and there was no social media, so there was no way to hear the voices of fans or readers.”

 

Subsequently, jump photos fell out of favor with the skaters, and other shots began to be used instead. Photographs capturing skaters’ expressions of joy began to be featured more often than moments of failure. However, it did not lead to a dramatic change.

 

It was in this context that Yuzuru Hanyu emerged.

 

In figure skating, which was often referred to as a “women’s sport,” he established the status of male skaters. As a skater whose high-difficulty quadruple jumps, outstanding artistry, and even off-ice expressions all became “photogenic,” he earned high acclaim not only in Japan but also in North America and Europe, and further created new fan bases across Asia, including China, Taiwan, South Korea, and Thailand.

 

And the fan base drawn to Hanyu’s appeal also began to turn their attention to sports newspapers. For the newspaper industry, which had been suffering from declining circulation and where efforts to cultivate new readership were often regarded as unrealistic directives from upper management, this was an unexpectedly favorable situation.

 

In this way, Kogaito’s work, which clearly set itself apart from conventional sports photography, came to gain support. Kogaito himself acknowledges this.

 

“I was fortunate with the era I worked in. I thought that mass-appeal photos don’t generate real excitement, and in an age overflowing with information, I don’t think broad, superficial reporting captures people’s interest. Photos that are easy for everyone to understand, in reality, may not reach anyone’s heart. When true fans pursuing Hanyu’s appeal began buying sports newspapers, I thought that if we couldn’t produce photos targeting the core figure skating audience, sports newspapers would not survive. Normally, if an inexperienced person like me said something like that, no one in the company would accept it. But there was Hanyu, a once-in-a-generation skater, as the subject, whose images could not be captured within the usual ‘standard format,’ and fans were also seeking different kinds of photos. That’s why I think my ideas, despite being somewhat unorthodox, were accepted.”

 

In fact, Kogaito acknowledges that events featuring Hanyu, such as competitions and ice shows, have an impact on the sales of sports newspapers the following morning.

 

For example, when an ice show is held in Sendai, sports newspapers are displayed in unusually large stacks at kiosks inside JR Sendai Station and at surrounding convenience stores.

 

Kogaito focused on a core fan base, pressing the shutter with the intention of creating deeply impactful and striking photographs.

 

“It’s very encouraging to know that there are new readers who pick up a sports newspaper even just a few times a year. Seeing spectators holding a copy of Sponichi around venues where Hanyu performs makes me happy and boosts my motivation. It’s a moment when I feel that my photographs are reaching people’s hearts.”

 

Of course, the decline in reading among younger generations is serious, and even if sales temporarily increase when articles about Hanyu appear in the paper, it does not stop the steady downward trend in newspaper circulation.

 

Amid this situation, newspapers have also begun to turn their attention to new content businesses.

 

One approach is enhancing articles and photographs on their websites. And what Sponichi, with its “god photographer” Kogaito, is focusing on is Yuzuru Hanyu photo books.

 

Not only the photographs published in the newspaper itself, but also emotionally perceptive images of the subject drew in a new readership.

 

The path to this point was far from easy. It took more than ten years after joining the company for Kogaito’s work, which was considered nothing more than “different” within sports photography for not adhering to “standard formats,” to come into the spotlight.

 

 

 

*Alternative CN translations:
https://m.weibo.cn/status/5113237508720695
https://m.weibo.cn/status/5113281584824326
https://m.weibo.cn/status/5113353293532836
https://m.weibo.cn/status/5113362285596028
https://weibo.com/7848586779/P5sqYw3fW
https://m.weibo.cn/status/5113386819914480

[yuzurujenn]

*Machine translation. Inaccuracies may exist*

 

 

Chapter 2: Inner Conflict 

 

2.1 After a year and a half of struggle in the layout department, reassigned to the photography department

 

Spoiler

April 2007. Kogaito's first assignment after being hired by Sponichi was in Osaka.

 

The Osaka edition of Sponichi, published from the company's Osaka headquarters in Umeda, Kita Ward, Osaka, features the Hanshin Tigers professional baseball team prominently on its front page, along with articles on professional soccer teams like Gamba Osaka and Cerezo Osaka of the J.League, as well as high school baseball tournaments held in spring and summer. Focusing primarily on Kansai-related stories, it is produced as a separate edition with a different content mix and page structure from the edition published by the Tokyo headquarters.

 

Kogaito's first assignment was to the newspaper's Layout Department. The department's job was to write clear, reader-friendly headlines for articles submitted by field reporters and to arrange articles and photographs on the page. Editors also considered the paper's visual appeal, experimenting with headline fonts and incorporating data and graphics where appropriate. This is why a layout editor's talent is often said to be measured by two things: headline writing and page composition.

 

As the first readers of a manuscript, they examine it to understand what the news is and what the reporter wants to communicate, then come up with a headline. For sports newspapers, front-page stories and photographs, which are crucial for immediate sales, and the clear headlines that accompany them can significantly influence daily circulation.

 

“You don’t buy paper when you buy a newspaper; you buy information. Therefore, after a day has passed, a newspaper containing information everyone already knows is essentially trash.” For that reason, unsold copies must be avoided at all costs. This is why highly skilled front-page layout editors are considered the stars of sports newspapers.

 

Of course, having a sense for headlines alone is not enough. Every day, editors must decide the importance and placement of articles submitted from the field, and even low-priority news must be included if it is necessary. It is impossible to publish every article, but forcing too much into the page would make it look cluttered and unattractive, discouraging readers from picking it up.

 

Unlike internet search, where readers choose which articles to read, newspapers select and publish only the stories they deem important, and they convey the importance of the news through differences in size and placement. Layout editors design the page while considering things like photo size and headline emphasis as they build the overall layout.

 

Since it was for the next morning’s edition, there was no time for leisurely reflection. Moreover, news that arrived at the very last minute before printing still had to be squeezed into the layout. As deadlines approach, the layout department becomes extremely intense, sometimes erupting into shouts like “Hurry up and replace that copy!”

 

It is said that even reporters who go out into the field benefit greatly from experience in the layout department, because those who have worked in layout can write articles while considering what kind of headlines will be effective.

 

In such a demanding environment, Kogaito was gradually fading into obscurity.

 

After starting to live alone in Suita City, Osaka Prefecture, near the head office, Kogaido would arrive at his workplace in the editorial bureau of the Osaka headquarters at 2:30 p.m. He learned the fundamentals of newspaper production through Sponichi’s evening edition at the time.

 

His first assignment was not on highly visible pages such as the front page or the back page (the final page), but on pages covering topics like horse racing, which are found inside the newspaper.

 

Compared with coverage such as that of the Hanshin Tigers, where night games often run right up against the morning edition deadline, these pages are relatively low-profile. Because it is an evening edition, circulation is also smaller. Often considered a “stepping stone for young staff,” these sections have more generous deadlines, and those who can create effective headlines and handle page layouts well, while considering the size of photos and headlines, are eventually entrusted with Hanshin Tigers coverage. However, Kogaito struggled with page composition and hit a wall.

 

The process of handing pages over from the layout desk for printing is called “going to press” or “sending the pages to press.”

 

“We’re going to press now.”

 

“Page 2 is going to press.”

 

While other section editors one after another checked in with the layout desk and department head to report their pages as finished, Kogaido’s pages were often still left blank, with the layouts unfinished.

 

Pages had to be sent to press by 6 p.m. As the deadline approached, the desk editors would often gather around his computer screen and give instructions on how to assemble the page. Even so, he sometimes went past the deadline and was often scolded.

 

Three trainees from his intake group were assigned to the same department, but the other two quickly adapted and were moved to the morning edition team, known as the “main edition” (honban). “I was the only one who didn’t improve at all; it was a painful, difficult time.” After sending the evening edition to press, he would spend his days helping prepare the morning edition.

 

Keenly aware of his lack of aptitude as a layout editor, Kogaido began to worry, “Maybe working at a newspaper isn’t for me,” and admits, “Honestly, there were times when I seriously considered quitting.”

 

On his only days off, Kogaito would go to a nearby hill and run sprints to clear his mind and work up a sweat.

 

“I sometimes found myself wondering what would have happened if I had kept playing beach soccer. Looking back, I think I was using those thoughts as a way to create an escape. It wasn’t realistic, of course. I spent a year and a half in the layout department, but after a while I started seriously thinking about how I could get out of there.”

 

There was only one job that truly gave him a sense of fulfillment: being assigned as a photographer, the job he had always wanted.

 

To that end, he made time to attend a ballet class run by an acquaintance. He was asked to photograph rehearsals and performances, and began taking pictures as a hobby.

 

As he started photographing ballet, he noticed something.

 

He realized that there was such a thing as a “standard” type of photograph.

 

Ballerinas had long favored traditional photographs that were well established in the world of ballet. In terms of angles, a frontal shot was considered the “standard.”

 

His acquaintance told him he was free to shoot however he liked. Kogaito of course took the standard front-facing shots, but he also began to think about what kind of photos he could get by changing the angles.

 

He took photos from the sides of the stage and from backstage, and even when shooting from the front, he changed the height and angle. What kinds of photos could be taken if he didn’t stick to the “standard” composition? The alternative shots that differed from the traditional image were well received. Simply by adjusting the angle, the overall impression of the photographs changed completely.

 

Kogaito refers to the camera work he developed at this time as his “starting point.” He was thanked by his acquaintance and the ballerinas, and also received payment for his photography. It was the first time he had ever been paid for taking photographs.

 

Whether or not his efforts had been noticed, a transfer order came in October 2008. He was assigned to the photography department at the Osaka headquarters. His long-awaited wish had finally come true.

 

And so, his career as a sports photographer began.

 

2.2 The initiation of a Tigers beat photographer

 

Spoiler

That year, the Hanshin Tigers were on a dominant winning streak, leading the league from the start of the season, but were caught by the Yomiuri Giants in the final stretch. They had a lead of up to 13 games, but were overtaken in the final stretch of the season. After losing a game in Yokohama on October 10 and missing out on the championship, manager Akinobu Okada decided to resign, taking responsibility for the result.

 

It was around this time that Kogaito became a photographer at the Osaka headquarters of Sponichi. Naturally, the Hanshin Tigers became the focus of his work, and Kogaito was absorbed into the “Toraban” team covering the Tigers.

 

As the Osaka-based media closely tracked Okada’s movements, Kogaito received a call from the company on his mobile phone.

 

“Go to Shin-Osaka Station.”

 

The next day, on the 11th, his assignment was to capture Okada’s expression as he returned from the road trip to Yokohama.

 

In Osaka sports newspapers, it is often said that “win or lose, it’s always Hanshin on the front page.” If a manager announces his resignation, that photograph will undoubtedly be on the front page.

 

Assigned such an important task despite being newly posted and still inexperienced, Kogaito photographed Okada’s expression without really knowing what he was doing. After sending the photos from his laptop and returning to the office, he was reprimanded by the desk editor.

 

"There's a rule about how photos should be taken right after a manager announces their resignation. Memorize that."

 

Even after that, he thought he had a rough understanding from old newspaper clippings, but the photos he took of players’ off-season training sessions and contract renewals never came out as the desk editors had envisioned.

 

“There’s a standard format in sports photography.”

 

Finally getting his long-awaited assignment as a photographer, he found himself constrained by the “standard formula” approach.

 

A particularly painful incident came during the 2008 autumn draft meeting, held under new manager Akinobu Mayumi. It was only natural that Hanshin’s first-round pick would be front-page news.

 

Just before the draft, sports newspapers coordinate which reporters and photographers will be assigned to which players’ draft-day locations. This is because drafted players hold press conferences at their respective high schools, universities, or affiliated companies.

 

Hanshin’s top first-round candidates are closely tracked by each outlet’s amateur baseball reporters and Tigers beat writers, with articles prepared in advance. Top-tier photographers are also assigned to the press conference venues. Kogaito, however, was assigned to cover a university player whom Sponichi believed would not be selected in the first round.

 

However, fate intervened. Hanshin’s first-choice pick overlapped with another team, and they lost the lottery. Their next pick also overlapped, and they lost the draw again. By the time they reached their “fallback first-round pick,” Hanshin was the only team left, meaning they could select any player and automatically secure exclusive negotiating rights.

 

When Kogaito heard the name of the player Hanshin had selected, he was probably the most surprised of all.

 

Hanshin’s first-round pick was a player from the university Kogaito had been assigned to cover.

 

“Is Kogaito going to be okay?”

 

Even within Sponichi, there was a stir.

 

Kogaito was at the press conference venue in a relaxed state and did not yet fully understand the “standard formula” for draft coverage.

 

The first-round pick is lifted up by his juniors in a celebratory pyramid-like formation. A photographer from another company has the student at the very front of the group put on a mask of new manager Mayumi. This kind of staging is a “standard formula” in draft photography, allowing viewers to immediately recognize that it is Hanshin’s first pick by showing the manager’s face in the frame.

 

Kogaito made a costly mistake.

 

Although he captured the first-round pick smiling and raising his arms in celebration, the new manager’s mask was not in the frame. Given that all the media outlets were shooting simultaneously, one might expect at least one shot to have captured it. But in the tension and confusion of photographing a first-round selection, his attention never even reached the mask.

 

As soon as he sent the photos, the company called him.

 

“Is there no lower part of this photo?”

 

“Isn’t someone wearing Mayumi’s mask?”

 

It was an angry call from the desk editor, who had checked other outlets’ photos online.

 

Just like in reporting, a photo that only one’s own company manages to capture is highly valued in the world of photography as an “exclusive scoop.” On the other hand, when only one’s own company misses an important shot, it is called a “missed scoop,” and harsh consequences await.

 

The next morning’s edition featured the celebratory photo of him being lifted up on his teammates’ shoulders on the front page, but the “missed scoop” of Mayumi’s mask led to him being repeatedly reprimanded even after returning to the office.

 

However, the Sponichi desk gave him another chance the next day. The first-round pick was scheduled to pitch in a practice game, and all the outlets were going to cover it. Kogaito was assigned as the photographer for the assignment.

 

Kogaito was able to capture both the “standard formula” shot of the pitcher on the mound and softer, more relaxed images of the player’s expression. Photographers from other outlets were also shooting similar moments.

 

Photographers from other outlets, who had the “standard formula” firmly in mind, seemed satisfied with getting acceptable shots and headed back. However, Kogaito had one more frame he was aiming for. So he stayed behind alone.

 

Actually, in a game before the draft, he had noticed that the brim of this player’s cap had the words “Japan No. 1” written on it.

 

After confirming that no other photographers were around, he cautiously called out to the player.

 

“May I take some photos?”

 

The player readily agreed.

 

Kogaito crouched low, positioning himself at an angle where the “Japan No. 1” written on the brim of the cap would be visible, and captured the player playing catch.

 

He felt he had gotten a good shot. After sending the photo to the office, the desk editor called him.

 

“That’s a good photo.”

 

For the first time since being assigned to the role, Kogaito felt a sense of fulfillment.

 

And he thought to himself:

 

“There are photos that can be valued even if they don’t follow the standard formula. I’ll try to compete with this approach”

 

However, pursuing his own independent style carried a high risk when it didn’t work out.

 

He went out to assignments and shot from his own positions and angles, but kept having days where nothing “clicked.” He should have at least secured the standard shots, but he wasn’t even doing that. He couldn’t get the photos he was told to take, nor the ones he aimed for… Even his seniors began to distance themselves, saying, “I don’t want to teach you anymore.”

 

He was increasingly being labeled within the company as a difficult photographer to work with.

 

Even so, Kogaito stubbornly refused to change his style.

 

“I suppose I was being stubborn. I’m naturally competitive, so I couldn’t bring myself to change my own approach after making mistakes and being criticized. Since I was made a sports photographer, if I had just gotten used to handling the lens properly and gone into the field with the standard shots and basic formulas in mind, I probably wouldn’t have made any major mistakes. And yet, despite lacking the necessary skills, I was a stubborn photographer with high aspirations. But somewhere deep down, I kept thinking, ‘Just you wait and see,’ with the mindset that I would capture photos only I could take, and I always went into the field with that in mind.”

 

After a little over a year since being assigned as a photographer, Kogaito was removed from the Tigers beat and reassigned to horse racing coverage.

 

Horse racing is also one of the popular, high-profile subjects in sports newspapers. However, within the Osaka media world, a young photographer being moved from the Tigers beat to horse racing coverage was by no means considered a promotion.

 

“I was shocked.”

 

In his disappointment, Kogaito began spending his days commuting to the Ritto Training Center, a Japan Racing Association facility in Ritto City, Shiga Prefecture.

 

2.3 After a second stint covering the Tigers, finally heading to Tokyo

 

Spoiler

The Ritto Training Center, frequently visited by Osaka-based horse racing reporters, is a major media hub for covering the sport, housing numerous racehorses and featuring track-style training facilities.

 

In Osaka-based media, known for its “Hanshin supremacy,” the horse racing desk has a somewhat more relaxed atmosphere. When Kogaito was removed from the Tigers beat and, in disappointment, began commuting to Ritto, he was warmly welcomed by a veteran photographer from another newspaper.

 

Even in horse racing coverage, there are various unique rules. To avoid startling the horses, one must not stand behind them, must not move suddenly, and must not put them under stress. Reporters and photographers covering Ritto can be seen as a closely knit group working almost as one. Within this kind of close-knit community, it was this photographer who meticulously taught the youngest and most inexperienced Kogaito the unwritten rules of Ritto.

 

He was also highly skilled as a photographer. While photographing horses, his images captured the changing seasons of Ritto and carried a remarkable sense of artistry.

 

For Kogaito, who disliked being spoken to in a forceful, overbearing manner, this senior photographer rarely said much, yet still took him along to various assignments. Above all, he was soft-spoken, but possessed a strong sense of professional pride and determination.

 

Many of the photos he took left Kogaito deeply impressed, but unlike the “formulaic” shots he had been forced into during his time on the Tigers beat, each one was full of originality.

 

Of course, even sports newspaper photography of horse racing has its own “formula.” For example, during training sessions, the standard shot is basically a horse running.

 

However, this senior photographer did not seem to be bound by that. His photos made the horses’ coats appear to shine, and he was also particular about “exposure,” the amount of light captured by the lens.

 

How can a horse be made to look beautiful? Even when the horse isn't running, even when it's walking or just standing, a beautiful photograph of a horse can still stand out on the page. For Kogaito, he was a photographer he wanted to emulate.

 

In fact, the photos Kogaito took with careful attention to lighting and background were accepted within the Sponichi company, even if they were not the standard “running” shots. While being inspired by the senior photographer, he gradually regained trust within the company through the photos he produced.

 

Then, in January 2012, Kogaito was called back to the Tigers beat once again.

 

On his second stint as a Tigers beat photographer, he resolved to change his approach.

 

“At first, I was far too reckless. I wondered why sports photography had a ‘formula’ in the first place. Before deciding whether it was good or bad, I realized I needed to understand that ‘formula’ first. In reality, those ‘formula’ shots are by no means easy to take. They require skill and experience, and they are a tradition passed down continuously by senior photographers. At the beginning, I was rejecting something I couldn’t even do myself. I realized that was wrong. I don't dislike my rebellious side, but I decided I wanted to become a photographer who could do the basics properly and still take photos that were different from others. To build that ability, during my second stint on the Tigers beat, I focused entirely on shooting ‘standard’ shots.”

 

Tigers beat photographers work as a team. They are divided into four positions: behind the backstop, first base side, third base side, and center field back, each aiming for the perfect shot.

 

As Kogaito continued to take "standard" photos, he began to gain a certain level of recognition within the company. This gave him a sense of ease. With a touch of playfulness, he started to incorporate photos that deviated from the "standard" into his submissions. These photos gradually increased in number.

 

On June 1, 2013, about a year and a half after returning to the Tigers beat, the moment came when he decided to take a gamble.

 

That day, Kogaito was positioned behind center field, aiming his lens from the center-field-back shooting position.

 

The primary role of the center-field-back photographer is to capture the batter using a telephoto lens.

 

Rather than pointing the lens at the ball, the mission is to continuously track the batter and keep the lens focused on him. From the center-field position, the batter can always be kept in view. The other three photographers are able to operate independently on the assumption that there is coverage from the center-field-back position.

 

At one point, a sharply hit ground ball from the opposing team’s batter was driven between second base and shortstop.

 

Kogaito’s assigned role was to continue photographing the batter as he ran after the hit, starting from the moment of contact.

 

However, after capturing the moment of contact, Kogaito immediately shifted his focus to the direction of the ball. Hanshin shortstop Takashi Toritani made a diving leap to make the catch. The camera locked perfectly onto Toritani’s dynamic, full-of-motion display of grit.

 

In truth, it was against the rules. If the batter had tripped and been injured while running, Sponichi would not have been able to capture that moment.

 

However, he took the shot despite the risk because he had repeatedly practiced his camera work in advance, anticipating this exact moment.

 

“If I’m going to do it, it’s now or never.”

 

Kogaito made up his mind and broke free from the “standard.” The photograph taken from the center-field camera position, capturing the moment the shortstop made his diving leap, was something even the company’s veteran photographers could not recall ever having seen before.

 

The decisive shot was used as a two- to three-page spread in the next morning’s paper. Even the desk editor acknowledged it, saying, “You finally did it.”

 

“Once you’ve built up a track record, it becomes easier to aim for the next thing. The kinds of photos I go for are also more readily accepted. Before, I think I was too stiff and trying too hard, even though I hadn’t achieved any results.”

 

In 2014, he devoted himself to covering the Hanshin Tigers. As a Tigers beat photographer, he continued to deliver the “standard” shots without fail, while also getting some of his more distinctive work published.

 

In February of that year, the Sochi Winter Olympics were being held.

 

About two months before the start of the professional baseball season, Kogaito only vaguely recalled seeing in the newspaper that Yuzuru Hanyu had won Japan’s first-ever Olympic gold medal in men’s figure skating, and regarded it as news from a distant world.

 

However, the photographers who were making their mark at the Sochi Olympics were mostly of the same generation as him. A mix of envy and the sense that “this has nothing to do with me” swirled within him as he tried to face the Hanshin Tigers in front of him.

 

As long as he continued working as a photographer in Osaka, being assigned to the Tigers beat was also proof that his abilities were recognized.

 

However, it was also true that he was gradually losing interest in the routine of professional baseball, which began with off-season contract negotiations and voluntary training, followed by spring training, exhibition games, the regular season, and, if the team advanced, the postseason.

 

“I think photographers who keep covering the Tigers for a long time are amazing. But I’m the type who constantly seeks new stimulation. That’s why it became hard for me to keep covering the Tigers all the time. When I joined the company, there were reporters and photographers who aspired to be on the Tigers beat, but I wasn’t one of them.”

 

He wanted to see other worlds. Gradually, he began to feel confined by the “village-like community” of the Tigers beat reporters.

 

“I thought that if I stayed in Osaka, I’d have fewer chances to cover events like the Olympics or the FIFA World Cup. That’s why my desire to go to Tokyo, to take on the challenge in Tokyo, grew stronger.”

 

He kept writing “Tokyo” in his transfer requests. However, nothing changed for a long time. In May 2015, he once again told his superior that he wanted to go to Tokyo. Finally, the company responded to the determination of Kogaito, who had built up a track record on the Tigers beat. In the regular personnel reshuffle effective October 1 of that year, his wish was finally granted.

 

2.4 From desk duty at the Rio Olympics to covering the PyeongChang Olympics

 

Spoiler

At the Tokyo head office, he initially had no fixed assignment and joined a group known as the ‘roving unit,’ which was dispatched to understaffed locations as needed.

 

In fact, on New Year’s Eve in 2015, Kogaito unexpectedly had his first opportunity to photograph Yuzuru Hanyu. It was customary for young photographers to be assigned to cover the year-end NHK Kohaku Uta Gassen. Kogaito was assigned to this event, and when he arrived at NHK Hall in Tokyo, he found Hanyu appearing as a guest judge, dressed in a hakama (traditional Japanese formal attire).

 

"So this is the young Olympic champion."

 

Kogaito pointed his lens at him with admiration. At the time, however, he had no way of knowing that Hanyu would later dramatically change the course of his career as a photographer for the better.

 

Assignments and postings at sports newspapers typically change in January each year.

 

For the three months leading up to January 2016, Kogaito worked as a roving reporter, covering a variety of assignments. Compared with his time in Osaka, when he had focused exclusively on the Hanshin Tigers, the scope of his reporting expanded considerably.

 

Soon after his transfer in 2015, he made his first overseas reporting trip, covering an international baseball tournament held in Taiwan.

 

As 2016 began, the Rio de Janeiro Olympics were fast approaching that summer. It was the first time the Olympics would be held in South America, and Kogaito secretly hoped to be sent to Rio. His decision to request a transfer was driven in part by his desire to get to Tokyo as early as possible with the Rio Olympics in mind.

 

The editors at the Tokyo headquarters probably had their doubts as well. What kind of photographs would Kogaito produce, and could a photographer who had spent almost all his time covering the Hanshin Tigers be trusted to handle other sports? They likely wanted him to gain experience at a variety of assignments as a roving reporter so they could assess the quality of his work and determine what he was capable of.

 

Reflecting on Kogaito at the time, Nagakubo said with a wry smile, “He was a capable photographer, but I didn’t see much individuality in him. Maybe he was still holding back.”

 

For Kogaito, covering a new sport for the first time was refreshing.

 

Before going to a shoot, he had to familiarize himself with the rules and characteristics of the sport. He would research the movements and traits of athletes likely to be featured in articles, their specialties and preferred strategies, their individual quirks, and past data. He would then internalize what positions to take, what angles to shoot from, and what moments to capture.

 

Of course, he also had to be prepared for unexpected moments in the field, but preparation beforehand was just as important.

 

In January 2016, Kogaito was not selected as a member of the on-site reporting team for the Rio Olympics.

 

He felt a sense of frustration, wondering if he had been judged as not yet capable of handling sports other than baseball. He also felt a sense of inferiority about his limited range, having only really photographed baseball and horse racing. Compared to himself, who had come from Osaka, photographers of his generation in Tokyo who were active across the world seemed dazzling.

 

Being selected for an Olympic reporting team is, in a sense, the most prestigious assignment for a sports newspaper photographer. You wouldn't be selected unless you were highly regarded within the company.

 

In fact, one of the photographers originally scheduled for the on-site reporting team was a colleague of his generation. However, that colleague ended up resigning before the trip to Rio. Even so, Kogaito was not chosen as a replacement. Instead, the role went to a veteran photographer with extensive Olympic experience.

 

“I think there was still no room for newcomers like me yet,” he said.

 

Until the summer of 2016, qualification tournaments for Japan’s Olympic team for the Rio Games were in full swing domestically. Kogaito was also sent to cover events such as swimming and women’s soccer.

 

Looking back at the photos from that time, Kogaito reflects:

 

“Hmm. I was still shooting like a baseball photographer. It was more like sports photography focused on specific scenes. Goals, key moments you absolutely can’t miss, what you might call ‘defensive photography,’ I suppose. Now I have more room to aim for photos that focus on the drama and stories of the athletes, but back then my photos were simply about documenting what was happening on the field. At the time, I thought I was just as good, that I could take decent photos if selected, but looking back now, I realize I still had a lot to improve on. I suppose the company’s decision was probably correct,” he says with a laugh.

 

What does it mean to photograph a story?

 

“For example, in soccer, the scene of players celebrating after a goal is a standard shot, but it still makes for a great picture. It’s a classic “template” image, and if you capture that alone, it can complete a newspaper page. If you get that shot, you won’t be reprimanded by your editor; conversely, if you miss it, you’ll be in trouble. In a sense, it’s an essential part of sports newspaper reporting. But nowadays, when I point my camera at a soccer match, I’m not only focused on goal scenes. I also shoot players warming up, or the moment they step onto the pitch as the match begins. Being on-site allows me to capture a wide range of moments, and as media, we can also photograph things that ordinary spectators never get to see. I think that the expressions on the players’ faces there, revealing their inner determination and resolve, carry a kind of story.”

 

What thoughts and feelings do athletes carry as they step onto the Olympic stage to face competition? Their sporting careers are filled with emotions that cannot be put into words. Some athletes feel gratitude toward their families, mentors, and those who have supported them, while others may step into competition alone, in complete solitude. He seeks to uncover each athlete’s story through a single photograph, capturing expressions of determination that embody their innermost thoughts.

 

During the Rio Olympics period, he worked in the office rather than in the field. He spent his time reviewing an overwhelming number of photographs continuously sent in from his own company, wire services, and overseas agencies, cropping images and adding captions for those to be used in the newspaper, carrying out a steady stream of routine, menial tasks.

 

There was no time to sulk. While looking at the photos that kept coming in, he constantly asked himself how he would have taken them. He also studied photos from other companies that were being uploaded online.

 

Gradually, and not just as a form of bravado, he began to feel, “Isn’t this something anyone could have shot if they were there?” That feeling came from the realization that the “standard” photos he had been made acutely aware of during his days covering the Hanshin Tigers also existed in Olympic sports, and that a media-wide tendency to accept such standardization as the norm prevailed. When photos of gold medalists were sent in, they all seemed more or less identical.

 

At the same time, he was also made acutely aware of the presence of major media organizations with vast financial resources and influence at the Olympic venues.

 

For example, there was a photo circulated by overseas media when Kosuke Hagino won the gold medal in the men’s 400-meter individual medley. Captured by a remote camera mounted on the ceiling, it showed him floating on his back in the water, his face beaming with joy, as if reveling in the sweet taste of victory.

 

“Even if I had been on-site, I think my photo position would have been poolside. Even if I had pointed my lens from there, I wouldn’t have been able to see Kosuke Hagino’s expression as he lay facing up toward the ceiling, let alone capture it. The Olympics aren’t a level playing field for all media. Media organizations with financial backing, a proven track record, and global influence are given priority when it comes to photo positions. I realized that if I were to cover the Olympics, I would have to compete with these global media giants. To do that, I would have to compensate for my lack of financial resources with ingenuity, and I would need to be far more thorough in my preparation. I took that lesson to heart. In that sense, although it was frustrating, I think working in the office was a very valuable experience.”

 

After the Rio Olympics, sports media organizations began reorganizing their reporting teams with an eye toward the next two years. In 2018, there would be the FIFA World Cup, and just before that, the Winter Olympics were scheduled for February in PyeongChang, South Korea.

 

After the Rio Olympics, Kogaito began to be sent to soccer assignments more frequently. This was part of preparation for the World Cup. Then, another assignment was announced in January 2017.

 

“Next Winter Olympics, I want you to go.”

 

Nagakubo stated this clearly.

 

For Kogaito, it was the moment he was finally given the lead Olympic assignment he had long hoped for.

 

2.5 A new "company photographer" in the figure skating world

 

Spoiler

In February 2017, Gangneung, South Korea, was enveloped in bitter cold. It is a city on South Korea’s east coast, about 220 kilometers east of Seoul, known for its beautiful beaches along the Sea of Japan.

 

The city was scheduled to host the figure skating events of the Winter Olympics in February 2018. By the time of the Games, it would be connected to Seoul via Korea’s high-speed rail (KTX), but at this point, a year earlier, transportation options were still limited mainly to express buses and similar services.

 

With the Olympics set to take place the following year, the Four Continents Figure Skating Championships were held at the Gangneung Ice Arena, serving as a test event for the Olympic venue.

 

For the athletes, experiencing the Olympic rink and becoming accustomed to the local environment was a significant advantage. In men’s figure skating as well, top skaters gathered, including Yuzuru Hanyu, who was aiming for the first consecutive Olympic gold medal by a male skater in 66 years.

 

From this event onward, Kogaito, who had been assigned to cover figure skating, began to seriously step up his reporting.

 

Kogaito, who had been assigned to cover the PyeongChang Olympics, was designated to primarily cover skating events as a whole. This included not only figure skating, but also speed skating and short track, and he was prepared to assist with ski events held in the mountains as well.

 

Three years earlier, Kogaito had regarded the Sochi Olympics as something from a “distant world,” but by this time he was of course aware of the existence of the absolute champion.

 

After winning gold at the Sochi Olympics, Hanyu went on to demonstrate overwhelming dominance.

 

In the 2015-16 season, he delivered an extraordinary performance at the NHK Trophy, incorporating two quadruple jumps in his short program, a first for him. He surpassed his own world record score set at the Sochi Olympics and also set new world records in the free skate and the combined total.

 

Just two weeks later at the Grand Prix Final, he once again broke the world record scores in the short program, free skate, and combined total.

 

In the following 2016–17 season, he became the first to land a quadruple loop in an ISU-sanctioned competition and went on to win a fourth consecutive Grand Prix Final title. He was clearly the overwhelming favorite for the PyeongChang Olympic gold medal.

 

As a sports photographer covering the PyeongChang Olympics, Kogaito began to earnestly wish, “I want to photograph Hanyu.” At the same time, he also felt the heavy pressure of how to capture a skater of such remarkable caliber.

 

Figure skating coverage at Sponichi had long been dominated by Nagakubo, who was then the department head.

 

“By approaching figure skating as a sport and directing the lens accordingly, Nagakubo built his position and became a photographer who earned the support of skating fans.”

 

The world of photography is a craftsman’s world, but Nagakubo was very supportive of others. Photographers working for newspapers are called “sha-kame” (company photographers), and while they are craftsmen in spirit, they are also ordinary salaried employees. However, this is a field where corporate norms often matter little, and there is almost no formal handover from predecessors.

 

Nagakubo was different.

 

The world of figure skating photographers also has its own “factions.” There are freelance photographers, photographers affiliated with photo agencies, and those employed by magazine publishers. Even within newspapers, there are photographers for general papers and for sports newspapers. The types of photographs they aim to capture can differ completely depending on the characteristics of each medium.

 

In most sports journalism settings, the majority of photographers are employed by newspapers, magazines, or other media companies. However, the world of figure skating is unusual in that it includes a significant number of freelance photographers. This reflects the high value placed on figure skating photography.

 

Among freelance photographers who rely solely on their skills, some view “company photographers,” who receive a fixed monthly salary regardless of whether they take good photos or not, with hostility.

 

The subject at the time was Yuzuru Hanyu, a superstar who transcended the boundaries of figure skating and had a large fan base both in Japan and abroad. Figure skating photography attracted intense attention; a single photograph could bring immense recognition, but a poorly executed shot could quickly damage a photographer’s reputation.

 

Nagakubo skillfully built relationships within the world of photography, regardless of whether they were freelancers or company photographers. He also patiently taught Kogaito about the world of figure skating coverage. He introduced him to so-called veteran photographers, freelance photographers working on-site, and photographers affiliated with various media outlets, helping to create an environment where reporting could be carried out more smoothly.

 

Nagakubo was a highly respected photographer within the company. He was not the type to shout, but his words sometimes carried a sense of weight and strictness.

 

Originally, he was a photographer who made his name not in sports but in social affairs reporting. He had taken a number of scoop photos at scenes such as the Aum Shinrikyo incident. In photography, there are “close-up” shots that focus on the subject and “wide” shots that capture the entire scene; Nagakubo excelled at using wide shots, skillfully fitting a great deal of information into a single frame.

 

Kogaito describes Nagakubo’s sports photographs as “photographs with a perspective.” When he was working in an office role at the company, among the large volume of photos coming in from the field, there were often individual shots that would suddenly catch his eye, and they were frequently credited to Nagakubo Yutaka. Nagakubo was not only skilled in photography but also in writing, and his figure skating columns had their own following.

 

Because Nagakubo was highly respected and a skilled photographer, Kogaito initially found him somewhat difficult to deal with.

 

“Even within Sponichi, figure skating was basically synonymous with Nagakubo. I was just coming in later. It felt like I was intruding on Nagakubo’s territory.”

 

Kogaito made a point of showing up in the press room earlier than anyone else. He actively greeted anyone he saw, not just the photographers he had been introduced to.

 

Many people would say to him, “Nagakubo has always taken good care of me,” once again making him aware of Nagakubo’s influence.

 

With only one year remaining until the PyeongChang Olympics, it was by no means enough time. While feeling the presence of his great senior colleague, the newcomer Kogaito’s battle toward the PyeongChang Olympics was beginning.

 

 

 

*Alternative CN translations

https://m.weibo.cn/status/5113578597650271
https://m.weibo.cn/status/5113595229372539  
https://m.weibo.cn/status/5113651992201994

[yuzurujenn]

*Machine translation. Inaccuracies may exist*

 

 

Chapter 3: Resistance

 

3.1 A photo position looking one year ahead

 

Spoiler

With his slender build, gentle features, and a clean-cut image marked by an almost translucent purity, Hanyu exudes an air of grace. Yet the moment he steps onto the ice, he instantly transforms into a fierce competitor. In the unique world of figure skating, where artistry is valued as highly as athletic ability, Hanyu becomes the very embodiment of an athlete when victory is on the line. Before a performance, he heightens his concentration in an instant and enters the zone. He erupts with joy after a performance that goes exactly as planned, while a performance that falls short of his expectations brings a wry smile tinged with frustration.

 

“The Olympics for Hanyu.” That was how the PyeongChang Olympics were sometimes described, as Hanyu, the undisputed champion who reigned supreme and dominated in popularity, aimed to become the first man in 66 years to win back-to-back Olympic gold medals in men’s figure skating.

 

Photographer Kogaito was prepared for it as well.

 

“Since this was my long-awaited opportunity to cover the Olympics, I wanted to capture a photograph that would symbolize the PyeongChang Olympics.”

 

The goal was to capture the moment Hanyu won the gold medal. But simply showing him celebrating would be too formulaic. What kind of photograph could he take instead? He still had a year until the actual Games. The 2017 Four Continents Championships, held at the Olympic venue, served as the perfect rehearsal for photographers.

 

Before departing for South Korea, Kogaito thoroughly reviewed past photographs of Hanyu. He had never photographed figure skating before. With the season already past its halfway point, he went back over the programs of that season through videos and photos, committing every detail of the performances to memory: where each jump was executed, what kind of steps were performed, and where the spins took place. Even the positions on the ice where Hanyu had shown certain expressions at past competitions were all recorded.

 

At major competitions, photographers typically press the shutter as many as 10,000 times in a single day. Not every shot is in focus or properly captured, but all of the photo data they take is stored and shared within internal company folders.

 

In the Olympic pre-season, Hanyu’s short program was set to “Let’s Go Crazy” by American rock icon Prince, while his free skate was performed to the piano piece “Hope & Legacy.” From the Sponichi internal archive, he went through roughly 1,000 photos of the short program, and about 1,200 from the longer free skate.

 

Kogaito, who had photographed a wide range of sports, stated bluntly that figure skating is “an easy sport to shoot.” The reason is simple: there is only one skater on the ice.

 

“Unlike team sports, you only need to follow a single skater throughout and keep shooting. Moreover, since autofocus handles most of the work, there’s no need to adjust focus manually. Looking at the images in the folder at the time, I felt that, from a purely technical standpoint, it doesn’t require particularly advanced photographic skill.”

 

Having said that, Kogaito added:

 

“That’s precisely why a photographer’s sense is so important. What kind of photos you take, which moments you aim for? I realized it’s a sport where perspective matters more than technique.”

 

Even so, as he reviewed the photo data, Kogaito already began to feel a sense of unease.

 

“All the photos looked somewhat similar, or rather, I kept checking them while thinking there must be other ways to shoot this.”

 

Small thumbnail images are displayed on the computer screen. You select the ones that catch your eye and enlarge them for closer inspection, but even at the thumbnail stage, they already looked like a “collection of similar photos.”

 

“Most of the shots were full-body images taken from the upper stands with the ice rink in the background. I thought this was the ‘standard’ or ‘classic’ figure skating photograph.”

 

Of course, this doesn’t mean the photographers on site are cutting corners.

 

To capture a figure skating performance in a single photograph, it’s essential to show the skates, costume, and the skater’s expression, as well as the sense that they are gliding on ice. A full-body shot with the rink in the background can be considered the ideal form, encompassing all the elements of figure skating. As Kogaito says, it is a “classic shot.”

 

Moreover, photographers at the time also adhered to established “standard positions.” In Japanese, this is called joseki, a term from the game of Go referring to sequences of moves that have been extensively studied and are considered optimal. In figure skating photography, the standard was simple: the short program was photographed from high in the stands, and the free skate from rinkside at ice level.

 

In the short program, which has a shorter performance time, photographers prioritize efficiency, aiming for full-body shots of the skater against the ice to secure visually striking images. In the free skate, however, photographers allow themselves a bit more “creativity.” From rinkside, they alternate between wide shots and close-ups, using distance and perspective to add depth and dimension. By combining high-angle shots for the short program with low-angle shots for the free skate, they produce figure skating images that meet a satisfactory standard.

 

This tradition in figure skating photography had been handed down over many years. As a result, even when photographers changed due to transfers or reshuffling, the images published across newspapers showed little variation and remained remarkably “stable.”

 

Kogaito, while questioning whether there might be other ways to photograph figure skating, went to the Four Continents Championships as a learning opportunity, intending first to observe the sport up close. He also reflected on his past as a baseball reporter, when he had pursued his ideals too far. He wanted to understand what figure skating truly was, and how to photograph Hanyu, the absolute champion who reigned over this world. With the Olympics a year ahead in mind, he had already made one decision.

 

That decision was to photograph both the short program and the free skate from the stands.

 

Normally, shooting from rinkside offers greater freedom. At this event, photographers were even allowed to shoot the free skate from rinkside.

 

But the Olympics would be different. Far more media outlets from Japan and abroad would be on site than at this Four Continents Championships.

 

It was unlikely that the popular rinkside positions would be allocated to Japanese sports newspapers. If that was the case, then he needed to find a good position in the upper stands from which to photograph the free skate as well. The battle, with one year ahead in mind, had already begun.

 

3.2 The "gaze" of the absolute champion omitted from the Tokyo edition

 

Spoiler

②東京紙面で見送られた絶対王者の"視線”

「羽生2ヶ月ぶり復帰戦ノーミスならず SP3位発進『ふがいない』」

スポーツニッポンの2017年2月18日付朝刊には、こんな見出しとともに、羽生が右手の人さし指を頭の横に置き、悔しそうな表情を浮かべた写真がメインを飾っている。

小海途は振り返る。

「羽生選手が演技でミスをしたことで、悔しいという感情が出た瞬間だったんですね。一瞬ですが、彼の素の心情が動作になったんだと思います。氷上で見せた彼の心に迫れる写真じゃないかと思って、シャッターを押しました」

小海途は2月13日に現地に入ると、その後は羽生の一挙手一投足を追いかけた。仁川国際空港に到着した羽生の様子を収め、空港ロビーから車に乗り込むまでシャッターを押し続けた。

注目度の高さは、羽生が空港に降り立つ前から感じ取れた。日本人だけでなく、韓国などの海外のファンも到着を待ち、横断幕を持っている熱烈なファンの姿もあった。

マスク姿の羽生は細身で肌の白さが印象に残った。カメラマンが一斉にレンズを向け、番記者たちが歩きながらコメントを求めた。

翌14日の練習は本番リンクで行なわれた。初めてフィギュアスケートを取材する小海途は、氷上で滑る羽生の動きを把握しつつ、ワイドに羽生をとらえた写真を出稿した。

「このときは、オリンピックのテスト大会で、羽生選手がオリンピック本番のリンクで練習をしているということを読者に伝える意図がありました。羽生選手をアップで撮影すると、会場が江陵なのか、日本のリンクなのかがわからない。

ですから、ここがオリンピック会場だということを明示しようと考えたカットですね。ただ、これは、いま振り返れば、スポーツ報道の視点からの写真です」小海途も揺れていた。

フィギュアスケートの写真はどういうものが求められるのか。

ゆえに、17日のショートでも、演技の結果を連想させる写真のなかからセレクトして会社へ送している。

羽生はこのとき、冒頭の4回転ループをほぼ完璧に跳び、演技後半に組み込んだトリプルアクセルでは当時の満点だったGOE3を加点したものの、2本目となる4回転サルコウが2回転で抜けて3位スタートとなっていた。

「自分なりに動きのある写真を選びました。だけど、あくまでスポーツ報道の視点に立っていますね。羽生選手を撮影していくなかで、僕自身の撮影もオリジナリティを出せるようになっていきますが、それはずっと先のことです。

この時点では、演技内容が良ければ、うれしさが伝わるような写真から選んだでしょうし、演技にミスが出たら転倒のシーンや悔しそうな表情をしている写真を出稿するという流れになっていました。僕自身は下っ端のカメラマンで、出稿した写真のなかからどれを使ってほしいというようなことをデスクに意見できる立場にもありませんでした」

結果的には、羽生の結果を踏まえた悔しそうな表情の写真が紙面を飾ったのだ。

フリーでは演技後半に4回転でミスしたものの、4本の4回転を跳んでシーズン最高得点となる206・67点をマーク。フリー全体1位を獲得し、総合で2位に入った。

このときのスポニチの紙面には、羽生がジャンプを跳んでいるときの写真がメインで掲載された。

見出しは「みえた、4回転5発時代」。フリーの出来映えを伝える上で、スポニチの見出しは鮮明だった。そして、その記事に添えられた写真は、小海途がどんな写真を撮ったかではなく、記事に寄せて選ばれた。

スポーツ紙にとって、当然の選択でもあった。だが、小海途は別の写真を使ってほしいと思っていた。

小海途は、現場で羽生のすごさを肌で感じた。

美しい4回転ジャンプがなぜ、お手本といわれるのか。多種類の4回転時代を「ジャンプ・コンテスト」と揶揄する関係者がいるなかで、表現力にまでこだわる演技の神髄を見せつけられた。

初めて、公式戦でレンズを向けた絶対王者の強さ、すごさを、当時の小海途はまだ写真でも言葉でも表現することができなかった。

ただ、漠然とではあっても、「羽生選手がすごいスケーターだということはわかりました」と打ち明けた。

同時に、絶対王者が牽引する平昌五輪までの男子フィギュア界で、背中を追いかける男の存在もとらえた。四大陸選手権を制したアメリカの新星であるネイサン・チェンだった。

牽引する羽生、背中を追いかけるチェンという二人のスケーターによる金メダルを懸けた戦いが、この四大陸選手権での交錯を起点として本格的にスタートしていくのではないだろうか。そんな予感がした。

はたして、羽生は、4回転ルッツという高難度のジャンプをコンビネーションで操るチェンをどう見ているのか。

小海途は気になった。そこで、表彰式で意表を突く行動に出た。

表彰式におけるフォトポジションは、正面が「正解」といえる。首からメダルを下げるとき、どんな表情を浮かべるか。さらには、表彰台に立つ選手たちの顔もはっきりとわかるからだ。ほかのカメラマンは当然のように正面に並ぶ。

しかし、小海途は意図して表彰台の斜め後ろに立った。

「正解」とは言えない場所からなぜ、レンズを向けたのか。じつは明確な狙いがあった。

選手たちを正面からとらえることができないが、羽生がチェンに視線を送るとしたら、この場所からしか撮影できないと考えたからだった。

正面からの写真は捨てた。デスクから「欲しい」と言われたら、また嫌な顔をされる。加盟している通信社の写真を使うことになれば、なんのために自社のカメラマンを出張に出したのかわからない。それでも、小海途は自分の狙いを優先した。

絶対王者の羽生がチェンにどんな視線を向けるのかーー。それこそが、現場に行ったカメラマンがその場で判断したからこそ、撮れる一枚だ、と自らに言い聞かせた。

羽生は表彰台に上がる前にチェンをにこやかに祝福し、柔和な表情で握手をした。

優勝したスケーターをリスペクトする「人間・羽生」の素晴らしさがそこにはあった。そして、二人がハグをした。一瞬、互いの視線が切れる。

ここで、羽生にアスリートの本能が呼び起こされた。相手のことを心から称えながら、自分が結果を残せなかった悔しさは打ち消すことができない。

「羽生選手は、悔しそうな、それでいて、次は負けないぞという闘志をみなぎらせたような目をしていました。僕はこれまでもたくさんのアスリート、スポーツ選手を撮影してきました。だけど、羽生選手は特別だなと思いました。

レンズ越しに見た羽生選手の視線から、これから自分はすごい選手を撮っていくことになるんだという覚悟を決めなければいけない気持ちになりました」

当時はまだインターネットで速報を積極的に出していく時代ではなかった。小海途はじっくりと写真を選ぶ。そのなかから、「やっぱりこの写真を送ろう」と二人が握手をしているときの写真を送った。

「握手ではなく、羽生の視線をとらえるための写真」。その意図を汲んでほしいと思いながら、送信ボタンを押した。

大阪本社が発行する紙面には、この写真が使われた。しかし、東京の反応は違った。写真を見たデスクから電話がかかってきた。

「ジャンプの写真を送ってほしい」

自らの無力さを感じた。デスクが悪いのではない。自分の写真がもっと尖っていれば、どうだっただろうか。ジャンプの原稿になるのはわかっていた。そこにジャンプの写真を入れる「定型」が読者にわかりやすい紙面に必要なことも理解していた。

しかし、小海途は忸怩たる思いだった。

「現場にいた自分が感じたのは、ジャンプの写真じゃない。これじゃないんだ」

紙面で使う写真を覆すには、デスクを説き伏せるしかない。

しかし、当時の小海途にはそれだけの実績も、社内での影響力もなかった。「こっち（握手の写真）のほうがいいと思います」とは伝えた。しかし、「こっちを載せてください」とまでは言いきれなかった。小海途は、このときの感情をいまでも忘れることはないという。悔しい感情を押し殺し、東京版のメインで使われることになる「ジャンプの写真」を送信した。

帰国して、他紙や雑誌に掲載されている写真などを眺めた。小海途の写真も、同じようにほかのカメラマンが目を通しているだろう。

「写真の世界は結果がすべてです。新聞に載って、初めてこういう写真を撮っていたんだということがわかるわけです。

データの中には、あるいは、大阪版の紙面には、もっとこだわり抜いた写真がある、なんて言っても、言い訳でしかありません。僕がいいと思った写真は東京版では使われなかった。紙面で示すことはできませんでした。スポニチの小海途が撮影したフリーは『ジャンプの写真」です。表彰式のとき、『小海途はなんで表彰台の斜め後ろにいるのだろう」と思ったカメラマンはいたかもしれませんが、『狙いが外れたのか』くらいにしか思われなかったでしよう。

羽生選手という被写体から垣間見えた一瞬の『勝負師』としての表情を、東京版の紙面では見せることができなかった。そのことが、すごく悔しかったです」

小海途に、当時を振り返って、四大陸選手権は自分のなかでどれくらいの評価になるのかと聞いた。小海途は「僕はカメラマン人生のなかで、100点を取ったことがありません」と前置きした上で、「あのときは20点ですね」と冷静に答えた。

「表彰式でセオリーどおりではない場所から、自分のなかではいい写真が撮れました。紙面には掲載されませんでしたが、それでも、10点はあげていいと思います。あとは、オリンピック本番を想定したポジションでショートもフリーも撮影できました。それが1年後への布石という意味で10点ですかね」

「当時の自分は、羽生選手を撮りきれていない」とも言った。

「写真を撮るというのは、カメラマンの技術も必要ですが、被写体の存在がとても大きいです。いま思い返しても、当時の僕には羽生選手の良さも、魅力もカメラで収めることができていません。

彼はたくさんの「顔』をカメラマンに見せてくれるんですよね。その『顔』があるから、自分ならどんな写真を撮ろうかと考えて、成長していけるわけです。僕のことを「神』と呼んでくれる方々がいらっしゃいますが、最初から卓越したカメラ技術を持っていたり、人と違う切り口で撮影ができたりしたわけではまったくありません。

 

羽生結弦という存在を撮ってきたからこそ、僕自身は成長していけたと思っています」

約1ヶ月後にフィンランドの首都・ヘルシンキで開催された世界選手権で、羽生はショート5位から大逆転で3年ぶり2度目の世界王者へと返り咲く。

しかし、小海途は、このときも羽生の魅力に迫る写真を撮れていなかった。

気がつけば、他社のスポーツ紙のカメラマンの写真と見比べて、納得もいかないが、不出来とも言えない写真を撮り続けていた。

そんな小海途は平昌五輪シーズンが間もなく幕を開ける17年夏に、衝撃を受けた。

フリーランスのカメラマンの撮影手法だった。

夏のトロント公開練習の取材は毎年の恒例だった。このシーズンは、羽生が五輪シーズンに滑るショートとフリーを発表する。例年以上に高い注目を集めていた。

小海途も、羽生の練習拠点のトロント・クリケット・クラブを訪れた。

羽生は敷地に入ったところで車から降りると、スーツケースを引きずりながら報道陣が待つリンク施設の玄関へとゆっくりとした足取りで向かってきた。

玄関前には大勢のカメラマンが羽生の到着を待っていた。初めてのトロント取材で勝手がわからないなかでも、群れることを避けたい小海途は少し離れた場所からレンズを向けていた。

こちらへ向かって歩みを進める羽生の目前に、一人のフリーカメラマンの姿が視界に入った。低い姿勢でしゃがみ込み、羽生にレンズを向けていた。

羽生の手前には色鮮やかな花が咲く花壇がある。花のピントをぼかし、夏のさわやかな羽生の写真が撮れるーー。

小海途はすぐに、狙いがわかった。

「あそこで撮るのか」

新聞が翌日に練習公開の様子を記事にするのに対して、専門誌などは発売が後日になる。だからこそ、雑誌に掲載する写真を撮るフリーランスなどのカメラマンは工夫を凝らす。視点も切り口も、カットもすべてにこだわる。

事前にフォトポジションを練っていたカメラマンの仕事ぶりに感心していると、羽生が歩いてきたその先にはもう一人のフリーカメラマンの姿があった。カメラマンは羽生に視線をもらい、笑顔の瞬間にシャッターを押し続けていた。

長きにわたって羽生を撮り続け、被写体から頼を得ているからこそ撮れる写真だった。

小海途は敗北感に打ちひしがれた。そして、こう思った。

「羽生選手という被写体に対して、自分はどこか逃げている。腹をくくらないといけない」

 

3.3 A fateful shot taken at the Autumn Classic

 

Spoiler

③オータムクラシックで撮った運命の一枚

17年9月22日。羽生はカナダのモントリオールで、シーズン初戦のオータムクラシックを迎えていた。

いよいよ幕が開ける五輪連覇を懸けたシーズン。日本からも多くのメディアが取材に訪れていた。

前日に公式練習に参加し、当日も公式練習が行なわれ、その後にショートが行なわれた。

羽生が五輪シーズンに選んだショートは、15-16年シーズンに世界歴代最高得点を何度も更新し、世界中をあっと言わせたショパンのピアノ曲『バラード第1番」だ。そんな伝説のプログラムを五輪シーズンに持ってきた。

羽生の五輪シーズン初戦は圧巻だった。冒頭の4回転サルコウと基礎点が1・1倍になる後半のトリプルアクセルでGOEで満点の3を獲得するなど、ノーミスの演技を披露。自身が持つ世界歴代最高得点を塗り替える112・72点をマークし、堂々の首位に立った。演技後の羽生も達成感をにじませた。

こんなとき、スポーツ紙では「圧巻」「世界歴代最高の更新」という派手な見出しに合う闘志あふれる王者の写真が「定型」となる。

ピアノの曲調やプログラムの雰囲気を度外視にしてでも、読者には、五輪連覇を狙う羽生が素晴らしい演技で好スタートを切ったということを、わかりやすく伝えたいのだ。

一方、小海途はこのとき、「ピアノの旋律が聞こえてくるような写真が、「バラ1』にはふさわしいのではないか」と思いつつ、サムネイルから写真を選んでいた。

スポーツ紙の「定型」と、小海途の考えは相反するが、被写体がどうすれば映えるかを考えていることは変わらない。しかし、アプローチがあまりにも違いすぎるのだ。

自らが撮影した写真をPCの画面で見直しているとき、一枚の写真に目がとまった。

羽生の体のしなやかなラインが曲線を描いていた。

演技終盤のステップに入る直前の羽生のしぐさだった。広げた両手の指先は何かをつかもうとしているようにも見える。羽生が天を見上げるような表情は、横顔だ。

「紙面では正面からの写真が好まれます。そのほうが絵になることが多いなかで、これは、羽生選手は横顔でも絵になるということがわかる一枚なんです」

小海途は見返した無数の写真から、この一枚を見つけたとき、「静かな美しい写真」と何度も見返した。

「自分が好きだと思える写真が撮れた」

そして、すぐにこの写真を紙面に掲載したいとの衝動に駆られた。

しかし、簡単ではないことはわかっていた。まず、紙面に求められるフィギュアスケートの写真は、羽生であれ、ほかのスケーターであれ、「力強さと躍動感、にぎやかさ」が好まれる。総じて「動」を含んだ写真である。しかし、『バラード第1番』は本来、しっとりとした「静」のプログラムだ。

「曲調を度外視して、無理やりに躍動感のあるジャンプや力んだ表情を使うのは、僕は違うと思っていました。それは、羽生選手の『バラ1』を表現できていない。その意味で、「バラ1』の『静』の世界観に忠実に撮影していけば、結果としてプログラムの魅力が、そして羽生選手の魅力が、そこに写し出されるんじゃないかと思いました」

そんななかで、シャッターを押し続けたなかに「奇跡の一枚」があった。

小海途は言う。

「シャッターを押しているときは、あの写真を撮影できたことに気づいていませんでした。羽生選手の演技を追うなかで、偶然とらえた一瞬だったんです」

しかし、すぐに我に返った。

「この写真はおそらく、使われないだろうな」

小海途はオータムクラシックの撮影に来るまで、羽生に対して4度の取材機会があった。初めて取材した17年2月の四大陸選手権、大逆転で世界王者に返り咲いた3~4月の世界選手権、日本開催だった4月の世界国別対抗戦、そして8月のカナダ・トロントでの公開練習。4つの取材機会を経て、フィギュアスケートでは社内でどんな写真が好まれるかがわかっていた。

「こういう傾向の写真は選ばれないだろうなと思っていました。

僕が現場で感じたような『バラ1』の世界観を社内で共有できればという希望はありましたが、フィギュアスケートはスポーツでもあり、アートでもあり、それらが融合した独特の競技でもあります。

スポーツ紙の読者には、やはりわかりやすい場面を伝えるということも求められています」

そこで、小海途は一つの意思を示した。最初に、この写真を送信したのだ。

フィルムカメラからデジタルカメラへの変革は、カメラマンにとって利便性を一気に高めた。

フィルムと違い、その場でどんな写真が撮れたかを確認できる。フィルム代がかかるわけでもなく、失敗を恐れずにシャッターを押し続けることも可能だ。ゆえに、一つの会場で何百、何千というシャッターを押し、そのなかから厳選した枚数だけを送信する。

カメラマンがセレクトし、送してきた写真のなかから、どれを使うかは社内で紙面編集に携わるデスクが決める。ときには写真部のデスクが記事を出稿した部署のデスクと協議し、記事に合う写真を選ぶこともある。

カメラマンができることは、現場で送る写真を厳選することだけである。どの写真を使ってほしいということまで強いメッセージを発することは、デスク業務への領域侵加”になってしまう。

現場のカメラマンは無言の意思表示として、使ってほしいと思う写真から優先的に送信する。小海途は羽生のこの写真を最初に送った。

「僕はこの写真で勝負したい」。そんなメッセージを込めてーー。そして、ジャンプを跳んでいる羽生の写真を予備的に送信した。

スポニチ東京本社には、部長だった長久保が出勤していた。自分から引き継いだ小海途がどんな写真を送ってくるのか、関心を抱いていた。

そこにあの写真が送られてきた。長久保は一瞬、驚いた。

「羽生選手がシーズン初戦で世界最高得点を塗り替えた。羽生選手の『どうだ！』という表情のフィニッシュ後の写真を送ってくるだろうなと思うわけです。

でも、小海途はテイストが違う写真を送ってきた。でも、最初に送ってきていたから、これを使ってほしいんだろうなと思って、カナダへ電話で確認をしました。

すると、本人も『そうです』と言う。現場がこの写真で勝負したい、羽生選手の魅力を伝えたいと思って送ってきたのなら、使ってあげたいなと思いました」

紙面にどの写真を使うのかを決めるのは、その日の当番デスクだ。カメラマンとして現場を踏み、デスクになって職責を全うする部下に、長久保も頭ごなしには言えない。

「これ、いいね」

長久保は小海途が送ってきた最初の一枚を見ながら遠慮がちにつぶやいた。デスクも半信半疑ながら、最後は小海途の意思を尊重した。

小海途は現場で写真を送り終えると、宿舎のホテルに戻った。日本時間でデスクたちが出勤する時間が少し過ぎたころに連絡を入れるつもりだった。

紙面で取り扱うスポーツは、野球やサッカーをはじめ、日本国内での試合や大会のほか、時差が北米のカナダとは違う欧州など、さまざまな場所で開催されている。

撮影できた写真は、デスクも早く出稿したい。ゆえに、出勤から間もない時間に連絡を入れることになっている。

先に着倍が入る。会社からだった。

緊張した面持ちで小海途が聞いた。

「どんな感じですか」

一瞬の間があった後、デスクからは意外な言葉が帰れた。

「長久保さんがね、『これ、いいね』って言ってるよ。最初に送ってくれた写真を使うね」

胸の高鳴りが自分でもわかった。あの写真が使われる。紙面に掲載される。長久保が意見をしてくれたのか。そして、デスクも同調してくれたのか。

出稿した記事や写真は、整理部で紙面へと落とし込まれ、やがて翌朝の紙面と同じゲラが出来上がってくる。

ゲラの段階で、修正や見出しの変更などを行ない、その後に印刷へ回す「降ろす」という作業で編集局の手を離れる。

ゲラの段階では、出稿した記者、カメラマン、出稿部のデスク、写真部のデスク、その日の紙面の編集責任を負う編集幹部らが目を通す。

だれかが異を唱えれば、写真も記事も差し替えとなる。

小海途は早く仕上がりが見たいと、ゲラが出来上がってくるのを待った。

PC上で確認したゲラを見て、舞い上がった。羽生の初戦、しかも世界歴代最高での好スタート。扱いは1面トップだった。

ド派手な見出しに、小海途が望んだ「しっとりと、美しい」羽生の写真が掲載されていた。

長久保も苦笑しながら振り返る。

「小海途を現場に出していなければ、ああいうテイストの写真を使うことはなかったでしょう。従来のスポーツ紙の定石でいえば、演技直後の闘志みなぎる表情や、動きのあるガッツポーズのような写真を使っていたと思います。

だけど、羽生選手の写真に対して、小海途は違う切り口の写真を選んだ。現場の彼が選んだ写真、彼の感性が伝わってくる写真でした」

もちろん、長久保は気まぐれで小海途の写真を選んだわけではない。

自分が大事にしてきたフィギュアスケートの現場を引き継いだ後輩の仕事ぶりは、他社のカメラマンから耳に入ってきていた。

「あの小海塗ってやつはすごいね。よく働くよ。大事にしたほうがいい」

仕事にひたむきな姿勢で臨む後輩はやはり、かわいい存在だ。そんな小海途が自己主張して送ってきた写真だからこそ、長久保の決断にも迷いはなかった。

長久保はフィギュアスケートの熱狂的なファンのことを注視していた。どんな写真が好まれるのか。自分たちの写真は受け入れられているのか。

反響は想像以上だった。インターネットサイトの掲示板で話題となり、「ポストカードにしたい」という書き込みもあった。小海途はこれまで、ネットなどの反応を見たことがなく、こうした世界の反応を求めてもいなかった。

「紙面にどれだけ納得がいく写真が載っても、わざわざ、『いい写真でしたよ』というようなことを連絡してきてくれる読者はいませんからね。自分との戦いだと思って、ずっと撮ってきました。帰国したら、長久保さんが掲示板の書き込みを印刷して渡してくれました。すごくうれしかったですね。

反応があるんだということに、すごく驚きました」

小海途の心境もオータムクラシックの一枚から大きく変わった。それまでスポーツ報道という枠組みの中で、「定型」という視点に立った写真を追いかけ、出稿するときにも無意識に選んでいた。

しかし、このとき、自分が心から「好きだ」と胸を張れる写真が撮れた。被写体の羽生のしなやかなラインがなければ、気づかないような写真だった。だから、小海途は言う。

「この写真は、羽生選手が撮らせてくれた一枚だと思っています」
ジャンプを跳んでいる写真が求められると思っていたが、長久保の後押しもあって、小海途が選んだ写真が1面を飾った。ファンの反響を呼んだ。

「自分が好きな世界観があって、それを認めてくれるファンの存在があることに気づかされました。もちろん、全員ではないと思います。だけど、どこかにそういう人がいるということは、すごく気づけられました。社内でも、長久保さんのように僕の考えを尊重してくれる上司がいる。自分もこういう方向でいいんだと、気持ちが吹っ切れました」

あの日、スポニチのフィギュア写真は変わった。いや、羽生の写真が変わろうとしていた。もつと言えば、日本におけるフィギュアのスポーツ報道写真が変貌を遂げる転機にもなった。

そう言いきれるほどの大きな転換を迎えた。

 

3.4 A “miraculous” shot capturing the champion, illuminated by wings

 

Spoiler

④王者をとらえた、翼に映える"奇跡"の一枚

羽生を撮影することはスポーツ報道の枠にとらわれているだけではいけないということを悟った小海途にとって、ファンの"持”は大きかった。

小海途は自分をじて、羽生にレンズを向けるようになっていく。

シーズンが本格開幕するGPシリーズ。羽生は第1戦のロシア杯に出場した。

羽生がトウループ、サルコウの2種類の4回転ジャンプを携えてソチ五輪の金メダリストに輝いた男子フィギュアでは、その後、ジャンプの進化が止まらなくなっていた。

背中を追いかける若い選手たちが高難度の4回転ルッツをコンビネーションで跳ぶようになってきたのだ。

羽生たちの年代のスケーターには、表現やスケーティング技術を駆使することで、あえて若いスケーターたちによる「多種類の4回転時代」の土に上がらない戦略を取る選手たちもいた。

15年、16年の世界選手権を連覇したハビエル・フェルナンデス（スペイン）らがそうだ。ジャンプの基礎点を上げるという手法もあれば、表現力などを示す5項目の演技構成点を高めていく戦術もフィギュアスケートという競技の特性からすれば、一つの正攻法でもあった。

王者の羽生は、その両方を譲らなかった。16-17年シーズンにISU公認大会で、初めて4回転ループを成功させただけではなく、五輪シーズンには4回転ルッツも投入するプランを立ててきた。

羽生は五輪シーズン開幕前の17年8月、カナダ・トロントで「4回転の種類と本数」か、それとも「プログラムの質」かの択一を迫るメディアの質問から逃げることなく、こう語っている。

「（ジャンプも表現力もすべてのクオリティを含めた）全部が僕の武器だと自負しています」

そんな羽生にとって、ロシア杯はGPシリーズ初戦にして、フリーで自身初の4回転ルッツを投入する大会でもあった。

羽生の新たな4回転が意味することは”挑戦”ではない。羽生のジャンプは未来のスケーターたちが「お手本」だと思って目にする。

助走も、跳び上がってからの滞空姿勢も、そして着氷も、すべてにおいて万全を期した上でプログラムに組み込むのだ。

ロシア杯では、メディアの注目も、4回転ルッツの成否という一点に集中していた。

しかし、小海途は「写真に関しては、4回転ルッツにこだわる必要はないと思っていました」と言いきる。

「はっきり言ってしまえば、ジャンプを一枚の写真でとらえたとしても、映像には勝てません。

テレビはその日に放送し、羽生選手に関心を持つファンは必ず映像を見ています。もちろん、スポーツ紙としてジャンプに触れないわけにはいかない。4回転ルッツを跳ぶに至った経緯や、実際に跳んだときの感想などは、羽生選手が取材に応じているわけですから、記事としては不可父だと思います。

では、そこにジャンプの写真を添えるのがいいのか、カメラマンは独自の切り口を見つけたほうがいいのか。僕は後者の考えを持っています」

小海途は公式練習に挑む羽生の姿を追い続けた。

会場リンクで小海途の視界が、ファンが持ち込んだ大きなバナーをとらえた。

ゴールドカラーで「結弦」と文字が刻まれ、両サイドに白い翼が描かれていた。

今季初戦のGPシリーズの「定型」で求められる写真であれば、羽生が公式練習で滑った内容になるだろう。

どんな種類のジャンプを入念に跳んだのか、スピンやステップで氷の感触を確かめたのか。記者ならその様子を原稿に書く。写真を記事の「補完」だと考えるなら、その様子を「絵」として読者に提供するというのも手法の一つだ。

しかし、小海途はオータムクラシックを経て、写真を記事から切り離す「独立」した情報として読者に伝えることへ舵を切っていた。

単なる公式練習の一コマではなく、羽生の魅力を公式練習でも写すことができるーー。

そう考えていたところに、飛び込んできた白い翼のバナーに、小海途はひらめいた。

「ちょうど真ん中に羽生選手が来たときにシャッターを押すことで、翼を携えた羽生選手をとらえることができると思いました」

その一瞬に狙いを定めていると、羽生がピタリと寄せてきた。そして、奇跡が起きた。

羽生は翼の真ん中に入ったとき、両手を天高く掲げたのだ。

長い手と柔らかな指先、そして視線もやや上を向けた。バナーの翼をまるで身にまとい、いまにも飛び立とうとしているような瞬間に見えた。

「これなんですよ！カメラマンとして身震いする瞬間は。羽生選手はこちらの想像を超えてくるんです。まるで羽生選手に翼が生えたようにポーズが決まっていますよね」

たとえ狙ったとしても、あるいは事前に被写体にリクエストしていたとしても、おそらくこの一枚は撮れないという。

自然体の羽生が呼び込んだ「奇跡のショット」だった。

小海途は写真を送信し、「この写真を使ってほしい」と自ら売り込んだ。

ファンの間でまたしても、話題を呼んだ。のちに、スポニチが正月紙面でポスターのように保存できる羽生の写真を折り込むようになるのだが、このときにも、この写真は破格の扱いで大きく掲載された。

羽生の「伝説」は、いくつかの節目とともに語り継がれることがある。

たとえば、12年3月に東日本大震災を乗り越えて初めて挑んだフランス・ニースでの世界選手権のフリーで滑った全身全霊を捧げた『ロミオとジュリエット』、爆発的な演技で史上2番目の若さで頂点に立った14年2月のソチ五輪、あるいは直前の6分間練習で海外選手と突した手負いの状態で演じきった14年11月のGPシリーズの中国杯、世界歴代最高得点を連発して「絶対王者」として飛躍を遂げた15年のNHK杯やGPファイナル、フリーの大逆転劇で世界王者へ返り咲いた17年3～4月のフィンランド・ヘルシンキでの世界選手権など・・・・・・・。

ファンには、それぞれに「落ちた」瞬間があり、一つに絞ることができないほどの数々のシーンがあるのだが、そのほぼすべてを報じる新聞のメインは記事であり、写真は象徴的なシーンをわかりやすく伝える「補完」の役割でしかなかった。

翼を携えた羽生の写真は違う。小海途は言った。

「羽生選手の記事に添えた写真ではなく、写真そのもので魅せた一枚です」

 

3.5 A photograph of the absolute champion beginning to transform

 

Spoiler

⑤変貌を遂げ始めた絶対王者の写真

「本来であれば、目に見えないものなのですが、妖気が体にまとわりつくというか、何かが漂うような感じの写真をイメージしていました」

羽生の伝説的なプログラムと呼ばれることになるフリー『SEIMEI』について、小海途はオータムクラシックに続いて2度目の演技を見ていくなかで、まずはプログラムの全貌をとらえることに注力した。

カメラマンにとっても、情報の集積は大事な作業になる。傾向を読み解くためには、過去の映像やほかのカメラマンが撮影した写真も参考になるが、それ以上に、実際の現場でレンズを向けていくことは貴重な機会になる。

小海途はこのロシア杯で、羽生の『SEIMEI』をジャッジ席上方の正面から撮影した。

正面からレンズを向けると、あることに気づかされたという。それは、いかに振り付けに工夫が凝らされているかだ。ジャッジ席に近いポジション、つまり正面から撮影した『SEIMEI』は、プログラムをどう表現しているかが最もわかりやすい。

「正面から撮るべきプログラムだとすぐにわかりました」

このプログラムをどう撮るか。

小海途は最初に明確な線引きをしなければいけないと考えた。

「このプログラムに対して、単純にスポーツをしている写真として向き合ってはいけないと思いました。

羽生選手が演じている世界観を撮りたい。憑依しているものまで、本来なら目に見えないはずのものなのですが、羽生選手はそれを演じようとしている。

それならば、カメラマンとして、憑依しているものまで映り込むような写真を撮りたいという欲求が湧いてきました。

リンクで目にした羽生選手の『SEIMEI』には、まとわりついているものを感じることができます。抽象的なのですが、羽生選手は何かを出している。それを自分はカメラでとらえることができるだろうか。そんなことを考えながら、カメラを向けていました」

羽生結弦を被写体としたフィギュアスケートの写真はこのころ、劇的に変化を遂げようとしていた。スポニチから始まったとされる「魅せる写真」の流れはやがて、ほかのスポーツ紙はもちろん、一般紙でも採用されていく。

先陣を切る小海途の背中を押したのは、社内では長久保であり、会社の外からはダイレクトに声を届けるファンの存在だった。

紙面を通じたキャッチボールしかなかったスポーツ報道において、ファンとカメラマンをつないだのはインターネットだった。

スポニチは「Sponichi Annex」というサイトを運営している。

インターネットによって、小海途は「自分の写真を発表する場が増えた」と強調する。

「紙面であれば、写真は1枚、多くても2枚しか使うことができない。でも、ネットの空間は無限に広がっています。もちろん、埋もれてしまうリスクもありますが、少なくとも一つのプログラムで7～8枚のカットを使うことができます。

そして、紙面だと、どの写真を選ぶかは、最終的にはデスクの判断になりますが、ネットでは速報性も求められるので、現場のカメラマンが先に送った写真が使われやすくなります。

しかも、反応がダイレクトに返ってくる。自分が選ぶ写真が、どう評価されるのかが明確になるわけです。オータムクラシックの写真も、ロシア杯の翼を広げた写真も、ファンの人たちが話題にしてくれて、初めて受け入れられていることがわかります。

ネットの世界では、響かない写真には批判的な声もあるわけですから、カメラマンは受け止めなければなりません。すごくシビアだけど、ある意味で、どんな写真を撮り、選んでいくのかという自分の感性が試される。羽生選手を撮るという責任感もさらに強くなっていきました」

ロシア杯を終えた羽生はその後、GPシリーズ第4戦のNHK杯、そして5連覇が懸かるGPファイナル、五輪代表選考を兼ねた全日本選手権、その後に四大陸選手権を挟むか、あるいはそのまま平昌五輪へ臨むかというスケジュールが組まれていた。

しかし、すべては一瞬で暗転した。

17年11月のNHK杯開幕を前日に控えた公式練習。

羽生は、4回転ルッツの着氷時に転倒し、右足首を負傷した。五輪出場すら危ぶまれるほどのケガだった。

後に羽生が出場する大会にはすべて帯同していくことになる小海途だが、このときは別のカメラマンが取材し、小海途は18年のサッカーW杯に向けた日本代表の取材で海外にいた。

インターネットで見た、氷上にうずくまる羽生の姿が衝撃だった。

小海途はすぐに社内のサーバーにアクセスした。そこには転倒し、その後いったんリンクを後にする姿や、もう一度戻ってくる羽生の状況がつぶさにわかるように何枚もの写真が保存されていた。

羽生はこの後、NHK杯を場し、GPファイナルの出場を逃した。さらに代表最終選考会となった全日本も出場がかなわなかった。

17年の世界選手権を制するなど、文句なしの実績によって2大会連続の五輪代表に選ばれた羽生は、負傷明けのぶっつけ本番で、連覇が懸かる決戦の舞台に立つことになった。