Photographer KYOKO MUNAKATA feels most herself in the mornings when the light shines on her child’s sleeping face. From capturing models on set to capturing the essence of motherhood, she reminds us of the smaller, yet arguably more important things in life.

Separating the personal and professional in life is the key to achieving a sense of balance. Yet, for creatives, these boundaries are often difficult to distinguish. Art requires direction and is usually derived from or made in reference to the personal. Within the confines of a digital platform, Kyoko and I talked about her career so far and what has changed since becoming a mother.

Kyoko began her photography career independently. Although she had previously studied under a photographer specialising in fashion and advertising, her entry into the industry was entirely alone. As with most newcomers, she was apprehensive in the beginning. Lacking confidence, she did not believe that she would have ownership over any of her photos. At the time, her main focus was not to make any mistakes. This feeling is a familiar one — we look for perfection in places where it rarely exists, and within creative spaces, mistakes, and perfection are wholly subjective. Motivation is difficult to come by, and feelings of discouragement or disheartenment upon receiving criticism is common.

INTERVIEWER ROBYN NGAN

I asked Kyoko how she was able to stay motivated in an industry so saturated in competition, subjectivity and criticism. Her answer was simple (and one we could all learn from): we should not value comparison amongst our peers because when it comes to art, we should produce for ourselves, for our own satisfaction. Photography, in particular, is a medium for expressing emotions; it seeks to evoke and question. It’s an act of catharsis and a revolution in visual form. It is this honesty and humility that has been the source of Kyoko’s confidence, which has, in turn, motivated her in future projects and resulted in her expansive and laudable professional career.

Her freedom came from her move to London — her three years of independence. Collaborative experiences with non- Japanese creators and shooting in a new city were fruitful: eliciting inspiration and helping her reflect upon her work and what makes a good photographer. The collectivist culture in Japan meant that work was always shared as individuality was limited and only granted within certain boundaries. Kyoko’s tone lightened as she reminisced about how shooting in London allowed her to create her own identity, allowing her to explore the medium under her own art direction. This was her real independence: the ability to individually assess and consider what it was that she really wanted to express, portray and communicate. What kind of world did she want to show her audience?

“To her, empowerment is understood best through three simple words: being a mother.”

Even though we were speaking through screens, I could feel Kyoko’s warm presence as she lets me in on a secret of hers: she has a new life in her belly again. She’s ecstatic over what this experience will teach her and show her. Though she laments over not being able to take multiple jobs as she will no longer be as free as she once was, motherhood has also taught and allowed her to identify with what she wants.

Being a mother comes with empathy, compassion and adoration. Kyoko says her art has grown even more emotional, and through it, she seeks to convey a vested interest in real humanity. It’s no longer a surface-level endeavour about what makes an image “cool”. Her main goal now is to fully express the emotions and the climate that underpin each image and the story that each model conveys. Her approach has changed, and she attributes it to her emotional nature as she earnestly talks about endlessly photographing her child’s smile: “especially at dawn, a child’s sleeping face in the gentle light is so beautiful and gentle that I can’t help but to take pictures over and over again”. Before I can even ask what makes her feel empowered and most herself, it is clear that motherhood has empowered her.

As much as motherhood has positively changed her outlook and her professional approach, Kyoko remains unconvinced that the relationship and the effect are mutual. She’s a photographer, but society will always view her as a woman first. This isn’t necessarily negative, but it does mean that there are certain expectations and views that are held by peers and elders alike. We live in a patriarchal society, and there are often expectations that women must choose between family life and having a professional career.

While Kyoko acknowledges that women’s rights have progressed a lot and that they are now getting the recognition they deserve, progress also comes with sacrifice. She deplores societal structures and the sacrifices she has had to make, but also feels that there is no comparison between her professional achievements and her sense of fulfilment from motherhood. Her home, and the happiness it brings, is priceless. The early mornings spent seeing her child’s sleeping face with the sunlight streaming in, the sounds of a loved one laughing and being able to create memories with those she cherishes make every sacrifice worth it. Kyoko is testament to the notion that our happiness comes from within, not from external achievements, and any temporary high from professional validation is hardly comparable. Her honesty and compassion resonate. Before I move onto the next question in our interview, she stops our conversation to remind me of the importance of telling those around us that they are loved. Beaming, she reflects over how her success, earned through hard work and inner strength, has translated to happiness within her family. These values of passion and self-belief are what she hopes will be passed on to her children. Seeing her children’s eyes twinkle as they move through life with confidence – this to her is the real success.

This interview began as a discussion of what Kyoko believes emancipates her, and it surprised me to hear that her achievements and milestones were not marked by the materialistic aspects of her work life. She measures her success in two ways: her ability to create art to her satisfaction, and whether the emotionality in her work is accurately conveyed to the audience. For her, there is no greater joy than seeing audiences recognise her photos as having come from a place of love and devotion. That said, external pressures still exist: often, Kyoko faces an inner conflict, having to decide between what will make her name recognisable and what will bring her self-actualisation. This sometimes a results in a sense of complacency and emptiness as success is subjective and how her art is received is beyond her control.

Without a doubt, Kyoko has been moulded by her experiences. She contemplates over the nights she spent crying in frustration, her initial lack of confidence, the occasions where she could not translate her visions to reality. She emerged from these experiences with a renewed strength. You’ve likely heard the mantra that we should find the strength within ourselves. You may have even dismissed it. Yet it is also common that we find ourselves searching for positives or silver linings in past struggles. Kyoko’s story demonstrates that we can grow and learn from these weak points in our lives. For her, the best photography always has a vision, and one that is underpinned by belief and authenticity; the fear of failure is an obstacle which will only belittle and take away from your work and motivation.

Musing over how far she’s come, Kyoko discusses her current undertaking: a portrait project where she hopes to showcase and reveal her most unadorned self. Commercial photography is often staged and limited in originality, bound by guidelines and marketability. But her current work, which she hopes will culminate in a solo exhibition, is one where she has allowed her heart to be laid out bare. There are no guidelines, no precedents. It is her, unfiltered and unfussed.

Kyoko is a sage-like presence, offering us a brighter alternative perspective to adopt in our uncertain times. We are living through a pandemic during which every news outlet spews and churns out new problems, and it’s apocalyptic. Despite this, she has shown a strong sense of certainty, adapting to the unpredictability of our times. Though she is no longer able to take photographs of people, she takes pictures of objects. It may be out of her comfort zone, but she welcomes the challenge anyway, knowing that this will give her new perspectives she can refer to in the future. Most importantly, she is now able to enjoy her time with her child.

Kyoko repeatedly circles back to motherhood throughout our discussion. There is no doubt that she has found what simultaneously grounds and empowers her. In motherhood, she has found confidence in herself and discovered what she values most. She has been afforded more freedom in her work as she has grown professionally, but few things parallel the feeling of embracing her child. To her, empowerment is understood best through three simple words: being a mother.

This interview was originally published in The WOW N° 3, 2020.

KYOKO MUNAKATA

BONNIE CHEN

HELENA LEE