Each time I open the first pages of Illuminance I feel like I’m simultaneously entering a dream and waking up from one. Rinko Kawauchi is a magician who works not in illusions but in revelation, reminding us how it is to look at the world with awe and wonder. Sequenced masterfully, qualities of motion, color, texture, the light and heavy all appear in the photographs almost as choreographed sensations, summoning earlier pages in preparations for later ones.
Her subtle observations, a child moving through a doorway, the sparkling of light across a soapy surface, the twists of an old tree trunk alongside the ancient erosion of a rock face, give us permission to witness the beauty of in-between moments and search for signs of magic in the mundane. It’s no surprise that we frequently see children in Kawauchi’s images, as it’s childlike curiosity that best describes how her photographs feel. Yet it’s a curiosity that carries with it the wisdom of time, appreciating moments of death and ugliness. A decaying bug, fallen frog, or discarded fish parts carry as much emotional weight as the glistening raindrops on a flower. Ten years after its initial publication, an expanded edition of Illuminance was brought back into print this Winter by Aperture. The book is the perfect companion for a transition into the spring of what will hopefully be an easier year. But, if not, the photographs will still be there, happy to inspire us when we need them, a reminder of the cycle of life. —Alex Nicholson
Originally published in the Spring 2022 issue of the magazine.
