One day, I received a call out of the blue from a photographer and video artist whom I didn't know, Martine Barrat. She told me the name of a close poet friend of mine in Paris. That was enough introduction. After the phone call, we were already friends.

A few weeks earlier, she came to Tokyo from New York laden with a large satchel of her works. Taking a long time to reach the city from Narita, she had arrived at a small Tokyo ryokan. When I heard how she made her way into this unknown, complicated city-foregoing the luxury of a taxi, fighting with her heavy luggage until she found her inn-I felt already an intuitive understanding of her lifestyle.

My feelings were not wrong. Her method of photog- raphy and video taping is to get as close as possible to her subjects, allowing them freedom, and then capturing the moment of their speech, laughter, anger, and fighting.

According to Fumiko Kaneko, Martine's partner who accompanies and assists her work Japan, when Martine rides the train or walks down the street, she is quick to spot people who interest her. Not only that, through Kaneko's translation, Martine usually wastes no time in striking up a conversation, hoping to get to know the person better. Her earthbound touch opens the world by narrowing the distance between people, and, compared to the foolishness of trying to shorten distances with mis- siles capable of longer striking ranges or other methods which aim to destroy both human and animal life, her gestures are much more honorable and noble; they create a bridge to the future.

Martine immediately assimilated herself into the life and people of Harlem and the South Bronx. What is striking about her work is that the people she photographs accept and feel at home with the element of the camera, as if they were being carressed by a gentle breeze or warm sunbeam. That is because Martine's lens is not just part of the camera mechanism, but is the window for her spirit. One feels here the magnificent power of a woman. Gen- tleness, the power of an embrace, and the dignity of the human being delivers, in silence, its message of strength in the face of all kinds of violence.

Women writers like the late Simone de Beauvoir and Marguerite Duras felt a deep affinity for Martine's works, and Yves Saint-Laurent speaks of her work of Harlem children, women and boxers with the highest praise. This kind of earnest admiration comes from her exceptional ability to live, borrowing the words of Paul Eluard, "la vie immédiate."

Presently, Martine Barrat, camera and video in hand, is travelling around Japan in her own, unique way. I'm very interested to see what will come about as a result of her encounters on this trip. It is also wonderful that Yohji Yamamoto has decided to publish a collection of her works at this particular time. People who have an eye for quality also have the ability to create quality; a fact which is delightfully recognized by this publication.

September, 1987

(Translated by Christopher Blasdel)