10 Questions with Wataru Furuta
Wataru Furuta is a photographer and graphic designer based in Tokyo, Japan. He graduated from Canadian International College and later from Waseda Business School (Graduate School of Business and Finance). After working in the IT industry, he joined a video production company and began his career as a producer. He has produced and directed numerous short films, many of which have been highly acclaimed at film festivals around the world.
Around 2008, Furuta began working as a photographer and graphic designer. Drawing on his strong background as a producer and director, he finds the greatest joy in being able to contribute to content creation through a comprehensive approach that integrates photography and graphic design. He is especially praised for his rare talent in capturing the essence of his subjects — portraying the roles they are meant to play at a given moment — and for his ability to precisely convey a director's vision through the lens.
In 2015, he exhibited his photo series Boy and the Sea — a portrayal of a family's relationship with the sea in the face of illness — at Gallery SPEAK FOR in Tokyo. In 2016, he presented GREEN GATE at the same gallery, a photo series themed around a door to another world hidden in the forest. Since GREEN GATE, Furuta has continued to explore, through photography, the concept of invisible "doors" and the "spaces" or "gaps" that separate different realms.
With strong ties to the entertainment industry, he has held photo exhibitions in collaboration with theatrical performances at GALLERY X BY PARCO in Shibuya and Laforet HARAJUKU, drawing over 13,000 visitors in total. His work seeks to bridge Tokyo's pop culture with its contemporary art scene.
In May 2025, Furuta will present a new body of work with Monat Gallery (Madrid, Spain) at ART WORLD PARIS 2025. This latest series continues his ongoing exploration of the "gaps" and "spaces" that have been central to his work since GREEN GATE.
Wataru Furuta - Portrait
Hazama | Project description
In this series, Furuta focuses on the relationship between our memory and vision. He uses visual effects to blend the holy places he has seen with other landscapes that are traditionally and philosophically associated with those places, attempting to evoke the images that people have had of those places. It is a depiction of a landscape that transcends boundaries, that does not exist anywhere, but certainly exists. This work evokes the "landscape of memory" that exists deep within visual perception.
The origin of this series was the mysterious nostalgia that Furuta felt when he stood in the holy land of Jerusalem. Each place has its own history, people come and go, and there are many stories. Based on the legends left in the land, he visits places that are linked to them, photographs them, mixes them together, and attempts to visualise the woven stories.
Even if the places are physically far apart, the visual fusion brings to light the messages that people have received from the landscape since ancient times. A single painting that seems to bring out "some intention" behind the story.
When we look at a landscape, not everyone sees it in the same way. A nostalgic story based on a person's memories, emotions, or information embedded in their genes - this is a series of works that expresses that landscape through photocomposition and multiple exposure.
The Japanese word "Hazama" means "the narrow space between things." It does not refer to a boundary line, but rather a buffer zone that includes a boundary. Furuta believes that the existence of an ambiguous place where neither world belongs, but where the two intersect, is what "forgiveness" is essential for people to communicate with each other.
Pursuing the "Hazama," Furuta came across a sacred place. It is the "Hazama" between this world and another world, between life and death. He used multiple exposure photography to express the "Hazama" of the sacred place. By multiple exposures of other places related to the land, he was able to depict the landscape of the "Hazama" in a more three-dimensional way.
This process, in which multiple layers of the landscape sometimes intertwine, is a visualisation of the "Hazama." The fact that all of the works are landscape-sized allows him to see this HAZAMA as a story, and invites the viewer to immerse themselves in the worldview as a real experience. The angle of view is wider than that of an IMAX movie and almost the same as a scope size.
INTERVIEW
Let's start with yourself and your background. How did you transition from IT and business to film production and to photography and graphic design later?
Since my student days, I've been interested in both economics and computers, which led me to join a general IT company after graduation. I was originally slated to be assigned to a department developing financial systems, but that year, Japan experienced an unprecedented economic recession. My company was heavily impacted and underwent major departmental restructuring, and I was ultimately placed in the distribution systems division.
This unexpected turn allowed me to gain deep insight into the core mechanisms of modern distribution and build connections across a wide range of industries. It turned out to be a valuable opportunity to learn about society from the inside. During this time, I also had the chance to complete the Waseda Business School program through an internal company initiative, which was a rewarding experience.
Later, I was transferred to the marketing and public relations department. There, I worked with external creative production companies, which sparked a strong interest in the creative industry. Eventually, I left the company to attend a vocational design school. While studying, I joined a digital video production company.
As I worked as a producer in the creative field, I gained experience producing various types of content, including films, television, music videos, games, and commercials. Eventually, I went independent and established my own video production company.
Around this time, I began expanding my role beyond producing to include directing and cinematography, gradually becoming more hands-on in the creative process. I also started working in design and photography. Among these multifaceted pursuits, my work in two-dimensional media—especially photography—received significant recognition, and I began to focus my creative energy around it.
Initially, I worked on promotional photography for entertainment media, but over time, I began producing my ownphotographic works. One of the turning points in this journey was meeting the Japanese actor Tadanobu Asano. I produced his first film as a director. From the planning stage to filming and post-production, I spent a great deal of time with him, and I was deeply moved by his attitude toward creating his own work.
Until then, I had approached production mainly as a function of consumer marketing. However, working alongside Asano revealed a completely different perspective. He saw his work as art and pursued it with a sense of mission. I later came to understand this mindset more deeply through my wife, who is also an actor. She taught me the dignity of true creativity: that "first comes the creator, and that person must do everything they can."
Around the same time, our child became ill, and we were forced to leave the city. Some of the TV programs I was producing were coming to an end, so I disbanded my creative team and reorganised into a minimalist production unit—just my wife and me. These multiple disruptions gave me the chance to reflect deeply on myself and my direction. It wasduring this period, around 2005, that I began creating my own works through photography.
Soldiers’ Dreams, photography, 40x80cm, 2023 © Wataru Furuta
Things that live in valleys, photography, 40x80cm, 2023 © Wataru Furuta
How does your varied background influence your current practice?
I believe the common thread throughout my diverse background is the digital realm. My career has allowed me to experience a wide range of fields—from business to visual production—all centred around digital technology. At my first company, which specialised in systems development, I acquired a solid foundation in digital knowledge. This has become a valuable asset in navigating today's complex digital society, as it enables me to grasp and visualise the underlying structures and principles at play.
Equally important was the opportunity to experience the everyday life of an ordinary salaried worker within a company. Many of the people who engage with my work come from similar backgrounds, and I consider it a great advantage to understand their perspective. It gives me a grounded connection to the audience I'm creating for.
My experience across different media has gradually helped me clarify and refine my creative focus. While the overarching goal in visual work is often summarised as "creating something beautiful," my path through various mediums and their unique roles has led me to my current form of expression.
I've worked on a wide range of creative projects, from large-scale films and commercial campaigns to low-budget independent productions. What I've consistently witnessed is that true artists never cut corners, regardless of the size or type of the project. Creative work, I've come to realise, is an inspiring field where people give their full commitment, no matter the medium.
Let's talk about your work and your recent series, Hazama. What sparked the idea behind this series?
I've long been fascinated by the idea of "gates." A gate is a boundary between this side and the other—a structure that exists so each side may respect the other. Sometimes it opens to allow passage, sometimes it remains closed— but as a gate, it always implies the potential to open again.
A gate embodies both kindness and strictness. In human terms, it might be expressed as etiquette— a code of behaviour that allows coexistence, even between opposites.
The title of this series, "HAZAMA", is written with the kanji 「間」, meaning "the space between." In its construction, the character combines 「門」 (gate) with 「日」 (sun)—originally 「月」 (moon). This composition visually suggests something nestled between the gates: a moment, a pause, a breath between two worlds. Hazama is not just a boundary—it's an interval, a liminal space. It's a concept more abstract than a gate—a place where opposites mingle, where time slows, and understanding becomes possible.
Today's world is marked by division between places, disciplines, people, and races. This isn't new; history is full of boundaries. But the divisions now often feel stark, binary, almost too black and white. Wouldn't it be better if we allowed more blending? If we gave ourselves the time to listen, mix, and understand one another?
This series of works is an attempt to visualise that idea—to connect two meaningful places and let them overlap. These places may be ancient battlegrounds or mythological landscapes, but when layered together, they form a new terrain—a landscape shaped by the relationship itself.
The resulting images exist like memories outside of time, as though drawn from a dream, or the trace of déjà vu. They are not reconstructions, but remembrances—landscapes of feeling, floating somewhere in between.
Mount Solomon, photography, 40x80cm, 2023 © Wataru Furuta
Can you share what first inspired your exploration of "gaps" and "spaces" through photography?
I used to make films with 8mm because I was drawn to the themes of time and memory. There was something about the texture, colour, and resolution of 8mm film that resembled how my memories looked and felt. 8mm, I believed, had a unique ability to express time—its soft atmosphere, dense grain, and slight imprecision created a sense of distance and intimacy all at once.
Over time, however, the level of precision I sought in my work began to shift. I found myself striving for images that could stand on their own—not as part of a sequence, but as singular, self-contained moments.
That pursuit gradually led me to photography. Among all forms, I felt that a photograph could achieve the highest level ofvisual completeness. To embed a sense of time within a still image, I began applying techniques I often used in film—montage, layering, and multiple exposures. Through these, I found a way to merge cinematic time with photographic stillness.
How do you choose the landscapes and sacred places you photograph for your compositions?
I'm interested in the relationship between human activity and the land. Our actions—how we live, build, and move—are deeply connected to our views on life and death, and often interwoven with religion and mythology. I plan to visit places that carry religious or mythological significance, photographing them while reflecting on the meanings they hold, both personally and culturally. I also place great value on ties—what we might call "en" in Japanese. En is a word that carries a sense of fate, of invisible threads that lead us somewhere. There are places we find ourselves drawn to: sometimes through work, sometimes in visiting a friend, and sometimes because a name catches our eye in a book or an article, as if calling us. I believe that by reflecting on why we end up in certain places, we can deepen our understanding of them. It often feels to me as though these places are not just passively visited, but that they approach me, quietly, from within the land itself.
Black Wall Mountain, photography, 40x80cm, 2023 © Wataru Furuta
Can you explain what the concept of "Hazama" means to you personally and artistically?
I believe that relationships are a universal theme in my creative work. By focusing on places and spaces, people and their connections, moments in time and their intersections, each of these elements gains depth and meaning.
To me, relationships are the root of all problems—and also the source of all happiness. Today, the world is overwhelmed with conflicts born from relationships, and many try to solve these by shutting others out. However, I think we need toreconsider the idea that true happiness can only be found within relationships.
What matters most is the buffer zone between connections—the space where we pause, reflect, and acknowledge each other's needs and interests. Courtesy, I believe, arises when we take the time to appreciate this gradation—a subtle understanding that goes beyond mere acceptance or rejection.
If my work can convey some sense of this delicate web of relationships to the viewer, I would be truly grateful. I expect to continue creating art while exploring and reflecting on the nature of relationships.
How do you use techniques like multiple exposure to create the feeling of a "landscape of memory"?
There is a film technique called montage—a method where multiple different shots are arranged or layered within a single frame. I'm drawn to this technique, partly because of the sense of incongruity it creates. It's a kind of cinematic magic that allows different moments in time to coexist on the same timeline—or even across different timelines.
Montage lets filmmakers manipulate time in ways that rarely happen in real life, making the result feel strange or uncanny. But this strangeness exists for a reason: the human eye doesn't capture everything in a single glance. Instead, memories and emotions blend into our perception, filling in the gaps.
In my photography, I use multiple exposures to achieve a similar effect—mixing memories and feelings within a single frame. I actually aim to bring my work closer to how the human eye and mind experience the world: by layering different moments and emotions in one field of vision.
The element of randomness in multiple exposures is also important to me. Photography, by nature, is rooted in chance—the subject moves along the axis of time, and no one can perfectly control the exact moment the shutter clicks. I believe that photography is an art form where the artist embraces this element of chance. Adding the unpredictability of multiple exposures creates a multiplying effect on the image, opening a window to encountering new worlds and possibilities.
Regarding my creative process, I first visit places that draw me in, photographing scenes I feel compelled to capture. I try to use the same lens repeatedly to maintain consistency. While shooting, I deeply reflect on why I must capture this place, researching its history and significance. I repeat this cycle again and again.
Eventually, I build an archive of these essential places and begin to experience a sense of déjà vu—a kind of link between locations. Through me, different places connect, and a story begins to emerge. Using digital technology, I weave the photographs together. Much of this image-building happens first in my mind, with the photos organised in an archive. When I layer them and feel a story unfolding—whether expected or surprising—I know the work is complete.
FIELD OF SEASONS, photography, 40x80cm, 2023 © Wataru Furuta
The city where the light falls, photography, 40x80cm, 2023 © Wataru Furuta
In your view, how do landscapes carry emotional or historical "messages" across time?
I believe that when we encounter a landscape, we naturally refer to our memories. If the landscape closely matches what we remember, it brings a comforting sense of familiarity. But if it differs greatly, it can evoke either the thrill of discovery or a feeling of unease.
In today's world, every landscape is flooded with waves of information, making truly new discoveries seem rare. However, this applies mainly to surface-level information—the so-called direct visual data. In reality, every landscape holds hidden stories beneath its surface.
By uncovering and exploring these stories, we can experience a depth beyond mere visual perception—a three-dimensional richness. I believe this three-dimensional depth is formed by memory. The memories of the person viewing the landscape, the memory embedded in the land itself, and even the memories others have carried of that place.
These memories amount to an immense, almost overwhelming flow of information—far too much for us to fully grasp. Photography, then, is the act of cutting out— selecting a fragment from the vast sea of visual and mnemonic information. Within this chosen fragment lies a message, sometimes revealing forgotten emotions or hidden meanings. My work is to revisit those memories, to reinterpret and reconstruct them into photographic expressions.
What do you hope viewers feel or reflect on when experiencing your work?
At its core, I want people to feel free to engage with my work in their own way. Yet, my intention is for them to notice something slightly out of place in a landscape that might initially seem familiar. I believe that what feels out of place will be different for each viewer. By seeking out that subtle disruption within the work, I hope each person can discover their own unique story.
TURTLE ROCK, photography, 40x80cm, 2023 © Wataru Furuta
GREEN GATE, photography, 40x80cm, 2023 © Wataru Furuta
Looking ahead, how do you see your work evolving further in the future? Do you have any new projects or series you are currently developing?
I plan to continue exploring the theme of Hazama in my future work. At present, I mainly use multiple exposures to express the stories within Hazama, but I don't intend to limit myself to this technique alone. I'm sure I will also create simpler shots, and possibly some group work composed of several photographs.
This autumn, I'm travelling to Iran. A British friend introduced me to the opportunity, and I will participate as a judge in an Iranian photography festival. Taking this as a starting point, I began researching Iran and discovered what seems to be a mysterious connection between Iran and Japan.
I have a feeling this will grow into a new project. I will begin by studying the land and photographing its landscapes. I will also be participating in a group exhibition at MONAT Gallery in Madrid, Spain, from September 1st to 30th this year. Three of my photographs from the HAZAMA series will be on display. If possible, I would love to attend the exhibition.
It would mean a great deal to me if you could come see the prints in person and have the chance to talk face-to-face.
Artist’s Talk
Al-Tiba9 Interviews is a promotional platform for artists to articulate their vision and engage them with our diverse readership through a published art dialogue. The artists are interviewed by Mohamed Benhadj, the founder & curator of Al-Tiba9, to highlight their artistic careers and introduce them to the international contemporary art scene across our vast network of museums, galleries, art professionals, art dealers, collectors, and art lovers across the globe.
