Helvetica Light is an easy-to-read font, with tall and narrow letters, that works well on almost every site.
Photograph by Kazuhei Kimura
今回のWaNa shopのビジュアルのために木村和平くんに撮影を依頼しました。
その時の記録です。
和平くんに撮影の為に山梨の家に来てもらった。
撮影当日、東京から中央道を通って和平君が到着。
お互いの進捗や、夜は何食べようか？などと話しながら、家の中や庭を歩く。
この家で使うための壁付フックを制作し、ついでにたくさん作って販売しようというのが、今回WaNa shopに至った理由の一つ。
家の各所にフックを取り付けて制作物を配置したので、その生活空間を撮ってもらいたいということ、WaNaで最近考えていることなどを話した。
簡単に１階を案内しつつ、縁側でコーヒーを飲みながら雑談、2階も見てもらう。
そろそろお昼ごはんだ、などと忙しなくしているうちに和平くんはカメラを準備し、家の中を歩き回って撮影していった。
お昼ご飯を食べながらまた雑談。午後は会話は少なく、静かでのんびりとした空気だった。
夕方頃縁側で烏龍茶を飲みながら、日の落ちる時間を待つ。薄暗くなった部屋の中をひと通り撮ってもらい、撮影終了。みんなでほうとうを食べにいった。
和平くんは途中、「二人の制作物なのか、家に元からあるものなのかよく分からなくなってきた」と言っていて、それはこの家での撮影らしくて面白かった。
写真は説明的でなく、和平くんの軸で捉えられている。
自分達もカメラを持っているから撮影はできるけど、物撮りをしようと思うと商品としてどう良く見せるかが軸になる。
和平くんに依頼したことで、そういう都合とは関係ない視点が入ったのが新鮮だった。
私たちは要所ごとに作品を並べて見せ場を作って、どうしようもない荷物は部屋の端に積み重ねていたけど、それらは見せるとこ・見せないとこの隔たりなく写真に写った。
For the Visuals of This WaNa Shop Edition, We Asked Kazuhei Kimura to Photograph Our Home
This is a record of that day.
We invited Kazuhei Kimura to our home in Yamanashi to photograph the space.
On the day of the shoot, he arrived from Tokyo via the Chuo Expressway.
We strolled through the house and garden, chatting about our recent work and what we might have for dinner later.
One of the reasons behind this WaNa shop project was the idea of making wall-mounted hooks for our own home—and while we were at it, why not make more and offer them for sale?
We installed hooks throughout the house and arranged our pieces accordingly. We told Kazuhei that we wanted to capture this lived-in space, and shared with him some of the ideas we’ve been thinking about lately at WaNa.
After a quick tour of the first floor, we sat on the veranda sipping coffee and chatting, then showed him around the second floor as well.
As we bustled about, thinking it was probably time for lunch, Kazuhei quietly began preparing his camera. He wandered through the house, photographing freely.
We had lunch together and chatted a bit more. The afternoon passed in a calm, quiet atmosphere with fewer words.
Toward evening, we sat on the veranda with some oolong tea, waiting for the sun to set.
As the light dimmed, he captured the rooms in that soft, fading glow.
Once the shoot wrapped up, we all went out for hōtō noodles.
At one point, Kazuhei said, “I’m starting to lose track of what was made by you two and what was already here.”
That comment felt very fitting for this home and this shoot. His photographs aren't explanatory—they’re composed from his own perspective.
Of course, we have cameras too, and we could have taken the photos ourselves. But when you're shooting your own work, the focus inevitably shifts toward presenting it in the best possible light—as a product.
By asking Kazuhei, we welcomed a perspective unbound by that purpose, and it brought a freshness to the results.
We had carefully arranged our pieces in key spots, stacking all the unavoidable clutter off to the sides.
But in his photos, there was no distinction between what we meant to show and what we didn’t. Everything was just part of the space.