Analogiesº3
A Whirlwind of Words and (Maybe) a Few Tears
Musings from a Small Publisher
It's been a while, hasn't it? And if I'm being honest, that's nothing new. I have a bit of a love-hate relationship with keeping up with these online journal entries — I'm great at starting them, but sometimes… well, let's just say follow-through can be a challenge. Remember those 52 weeks of photography projects that used to trend on Instagram and Tumblr? Yeah, I failed at it many times... 😅 But I'm always trying to be better, and I'm so grateful to those of you who have stuck around.
Life at Ephemere has been a whirlwind — a beautiful, chaotic, and sometimes overwhelming whirlwind. There have been incredible highs and difficult lows, both personally and professionally, that have shaped not only the past year but also, well, my hair — which has gone through quite a transformation itself! More on that later. My last Substack post was back in the spring of last year, and since then, so much has happened. I thought I was just juggling a few group exhibitions and book publications, but the rest of the year flew by in a blur. We even had our first Asian tour! It all feels like a dream now, a series of snapshots I wish I could savor more deeply.
Fast forward to today, and we're already diving into a new year with so much on the horizon. On a personal note, things have been equally eventful — a mix of highs and lows. But I'm finally making some progress on a personal project that's very close to my heart. I'm not quite ready to share all the details yet (it's a very personal and intimate part of my life), but it's the driving force behind a lot of what I'm doing right now. When it's finished, I hope I'll be ready to share it with all of you.
In the meantime, I want to use this Analogies series as a way to share my life as a small, independent photobook publisher here in Tokyo. I've always felt that the job of a publisher is a huge undertaking, and I still get a little embarrassed when I introduce myself as one — I always feel the need to add "small" in front. But I am a publisher, and I'm incredibly proud of all the brave photographers who have entrusted their work and their stories to me and Ephemere. It's a huge responsibility, and it can be both overwhelming and incredibly rewarding. It's a constant learning process, and I have so many ambitions for Ephemere.
For Analogiesº3, I want to shine a spotlight on six photography projects that made the past year so special for Ephemere (though there were many more!). We'll be focusing on three group publications and three solo publications, highlighting the incredible photographers behind them and the collaborative spirit that brought these projects to life — with the help of our talented writers who craft insightful features and interviews for our online journal and our dedicated designers who play a crucial role in shaping the visual identity of our publications.
Group Publications: A Celebration of Community
Familiar Strangers
Picking up from last spring, I remember very vividly the launch of our group exhibition and publication, both titled Familiar Strangers. This was a project I conceived and produced entirely on my own — not necessarily by choice, but rather due to a severe lack of time to invite guest curators! I knew the project would progress much faster if I took the reins myself, and while the outcome was fantastic, the process was definitely a whirlwind of deadlines and pressure. But hey, who needs sleep when you're fueled by passion (and caffeine)? 😉
I decided to do things a little differently this time. Instead of just asking for digital submissions, I asked photographers to send me actual prints of their work. I wasn't sure if anyone would participate — especially those outside Japan, as it involves costs for shipping — but I was so heartened by the response. The enthusiasm from the photographers who submitted their work was truly inspiring, and it gave me the energy to see the project through.
The Familiar Strangers exhibition featured 50 printed portraits from around the world, and it was during this exhibition that we also launched the accompanying publication. The act of receiving and unboxing each letter felt so analog, so personal. I even documented the process — you might have seen some of it in Analogiesº2. The publication itself included 150 photographers, too many to mention individually, but each one contributed a unique voice to the project. I also experimented with three alternate covers, each featuring stunning images by Emilia Villar, Guilia Madiai, and Ricardo Libertino. Familiar Strangers is now sold out, but I'm hoping to release a second edition in the future, so keep an eye out for that!
Sadly, the exhibition was supposed to run for two weekends, but I had to unexpectedly return to Manila during the second weekend due to the passing of my father. It was a difficult time, and I'm grateful for everyone's understanding and support during that period.
The Only Thing That Keeps Us Afloat
Our next group publication, The Only Thing That Keeps Us Afloat, has a special place in my heart. This project was a collaboration with alumni from the Angkor Photo Workshop, a workshop that was incredibly formative for me. Ten years ago, I was a participant in their program in Siem Reap, Cambodia, and it’s where I learned so much about editing and sequencing photographs. This publication was my way of giving back.
Originally, I envisioned a slideshow exhibition alongside the publication, and we even secured materials from the festival director, Jessica Lynn. However, finding the right projector proved challenging, and the exhibition unfortunately didn’t come to fruition. But I’m so glad the publication itself went ahead. The Only Thing That Keeps Us Afloat is a testament to collaboration on many levels. It involved 10 alumni, and it was co-curated by my classmate from the workshop, Aji Susanto Anom from Indonesia. It was wonderful to reconnect with him and work together again, reminiscing about our time learning from Antoine D'Agata and Sohrab Hura. Another Angkor alumni, Hui Hsien Ng, also contributed a beautiful foreword.
The Only Thing That Keeps Us Afloat was recently in Cambodia as part of the Angkor Photo Festival. It was included in their traveling library project, Row 770, which we will be featuring in an upcoming article on Ephemere's online journal.
Happening Happenstance
Our third group publication from last year, Happening Happenstance, was another exciting project born from an open call — our fifth one to date! This time, the collaboration was with Noise Magazine, an online photography platform. I first connected with Colin, the founder of Noice Magazine, through Threads shortly after its launch. My post about being a gallerist and small publisher caught his eye, and after a few conversations, we decided to join forces on this project. For Happening Happenstance, we decided to focus on candid, clever, and comic photography. We received numerous submissions, and Colin did the initial curation, selecting the photographers whose work would be included in the publication. As the editor, I then narrowed down the selection further and worked on sequencing the images for the book.
The accompanying exhibition, however, presented some challenges. Originally, Colin was planning to visit Tokyo to help with the setup and the book launch, but unfortunately, his plans changed, and he was unable to come. To be honest, this was a difficult moment for me, as I ended up having to manage most of the exhibition preparations on my own — let's just say I've learned to always have a backup plan (and maybe a few extra pairs of hands) for future exhibitions! 😅 While I understood that plans can change, it was a reminder that even with the best intentions, collaborations can sometimes be unpredictable and that clear communication and commitment are essential. In the future, I'll need to be more assertive and protect myself from taking on too much of the burden.
Despite Colin's absence, the setup for the Happening Happenstance exhibition wasn't so bad after all. My nephew and my friend Glen (whose work I'll mention later) were incredibly helpful, as was my sister, who owns the gallery building. We had a great team, and even though the summer heat made things a bit more challenging (lesson learned: avoid outdoor projects during Tokyo summers!), we managed to pull it off. We even set up a large cooler filled with ice water and drinks inside the gallery to keep everyone refreshed. The opening was a success, with many people coming out to celebrate the photographers and their work.
And then there was the book itself. Just as I was feeling overwhelmed with the design (design is definitely not my forte!), Federico Zavatta and Giovannella Pirina of Contrast/Design reached out to me, offering their design expertise. Their timing was impeccable. Federico's design skills transformed my initial ideas into a beautiful, cohesive vision. Giovannella also contributed her writing talents, interviewing several of the photographers featured in the book for a special feature. And as another stroke of luck, this was also the first publication we printed with our new printer, who specializes in high-quality photobooks.
Everything seemed to fall into place, reminding me that sometimes, even challenging experiences can lead to wonderful outcomes. Happening Happenstance was a testament to the power of creative collaboration and a reminder that even when things don't go according to plan, something beautiful can still emerge.
Solo Publications: Celebrating Individual Voices
Yorumo Hirumo
In between Happening Happenstance and Familiar Strangers, we also had the pleasure of working on a beautiful solo exhibition and publication with Glen Snyder. Glen is actually part of the Familiar Strangers project — he discovered Ephemere through Instagram and participated in the exhibition. We then met in person when he visited the gallery, and our conversations eventually led to the idea of his solo show and book.
Glen's exhibition and book, titled Yorumo Hirumo (Night and Day), was inspired by his daily commute along the Tama River. This stunning collection of black and white photographs, blending digital and traditional film, captures the beauty of his neighborhood and the fleeting moments of everyday life.
Working with Glen on this publication was an absolute joy. We met several times to discuss the design, and he was so open to my comments and guidance. It was one of the smoothest and most rewarding projects we've undertaken at Ephemere. Beyond the professional collaboration, Glen has also become a dear friend, and we continue to connect on a personal level. This, for me, is one of the most beautiful aspects of what I do at Ephemere — building relationships that extend beyond photography.
Glen has also been incredibly supportive of Ephemere, and he was even there to help us with the setup for the Happening Happenstance exhibition. His photobook, Yorumo Hirumo, was also featured in an interview by our writer, Guzal, which you can find in our online journal.
Drowned
We celebrated a big milestone in August — Ephemere turned one year old! It's hard to believe how much we accomplished in that first year, and I'm so incredibly proud of everything we've achieved. September brought even more exciting developments. We simplified our online presence by changing our domain name to www.ephemere.tokyo. It was a change we felt was necessary for our growth.
Around this time, we also released another beautiful solo publication, Drowned, featuring the work of Italian photographer, Alessandro Silverj. Alessandro was also part of our Familiar Strangers project, and he later approached us through our submissions form with his own project. Drowned is a departure from Alessandro’s usual black and white work, showcasing a series of striking color images.
It was a pleasure working with Alessandro on this project. And in a wonderful twist of fate, one of our writers, Martina Cantore, is also Italian and knows Alessandro! I asked Martina to interview him for our online journal, and they collaborated on a fantastic feature that you can read on our website.
What Good Is Fruit That Is Not Sweet?
Also in October, we announced another solo exhibition and publication, which took place in our humble gallery. This was likely our last exhibition of the year, and it was a powerful one. The title is What Good Is Fruit That Is Not Sweet?, and it was a collaboration with Korean-American photographer, Young Kim. This powerful project documents his mother's journey as she ages and faces challenges with her health and mobility. It's a deeply personal exploration of their evolving relationship and the shifting roles between parent and child over time.
I was so moved when Young reached out to us with this project. His work is not only visually stunning but also incredibly heartfelt. I was deeply touched by his willingness to share such an intimate and vulnerable story. Young was also very enthusiastic about having his launch here in Tokyo, and fortunately, he was able to coordinate his trip with friends who were also visiting Japan.
What Good Is Fruit That Is Not Sweet? turned out beautifully, and I learned a lot about the printing process in order to accurately replicate some of the specific elements from his original dummy book. Young was very happy with the final result, and he even signed copies of the book during his visit to Tokyo. He also generously left me with one of his exhibition prints, which is now one of my favorite pieces. In another wonderful coincidence, one of our writers, Jiye Kim, is also Korean and based in Tokyo. She was able to connect with Young and write a piece about his work for our online journal.
Echoes of Collaboration
So, we've journeyed through June, July, August, September, and October, and I've already mentioned a whole bunch of photo books — six, to be specific! And there are even more that I haven't had a chance to highlight yet. This is my way of catching up and introducing you to some of the incredible projects we've been working on. But beyond reading the interviews and features linked above, the best way to support these photographers and, ultimately, Ephemere, is to buy copies of their books. Every single purchase makes a huge difference.
Being a small, independent publisher means we don't have big sponsors… Hello, big sponsors? Are you out there? 😉 Every purchase directly supports what we do, which is not only to publish the work of talented photographers but also to help more photographers share their work through our group publications. Most of these group publications are self-produced by yours truly, and the sales are entirely dedicated to upcoming publications. On the other hand, for solo publications, the split is usually 50/50 between Ephemere and the photographer. However, many of these individual photographers have generously donated 100% of their sales to Ephemere, for which I am endlessly grateful.
And I can't forget our amazing writers and designers! They are all wonderful volunteers, offering their talent, time, and wisdom to Ephemere. I'm so humbled by their generosity and their willingness to be part of this project. It's this kind of support that keeps me going, even when things get tough.
Because it's not always easy. The grass isn't always green. I've dealt with my fair share of difficult photographers and challenging situations — and I'm sure there will be more as I continue on this journey. And to be honest, sometimes I make mistakes too. I'm still learning as I go, and I'm far from perfect. But I try my best to learn from every experience, both the good and the bad, and to use those lessons to grow as a publisher and as a person.
But I guess that's part of the beauty of these Analogies entries. They allow me to reflect out loud, to share my experiences with you all – since my usual sounding boards are just my husband and my three sisters (none of whom are photographers!). It's nice to have this space to be open and honest about the ups and downs of running a small press. And it's even nicer to know that there are people out there who understand and appreciate what we're doing.
At the heart of it all is collaboration. It's the foundation of Ephemere, the essence of how we create and grow. Every project, whether a solo or group publication, is a testament to the power of working together. We may be a small voice, a tiny speck in the vast universe of the photography world, but together, we create echoes. And with your support, those echoes grow louder, reaching further.
If any of Ephemere's projects have resonated with you, if our work has touched you in any way, we'd love to hear from you. And please, tell your friends about us! Who knows, you might be the echo we've been waiting for.
Stay tuned for the next Analogies…
🖤
Anne Murayama
Photobook Publisher
www.ephemere.tokyo
Love how open and honest you are in this post, sharing the struggles and challenges not just the shiny results! I can see you care deeply about what you do, the results speak for themselves.