FUJIWARA, Atsushi - Butterfly had a dream / Chō no mita yume

"The decision to distribute one's own photographic work in the form of a book should not be a market-oriented one. Not even today, when the photobook's status as a serious work of art has finally come to be acknowledged by a larger audience. Instead, it should be the result of a conscious artistic practice that seriously takes into consideration the various unique characteristics of this particular medium.

Atsushi FUJIWARAs second photobook 'Butterfly had a dream', is a very fine example of a body of work that makes great sense as a book. That is because the artist clearly undertook considerable efforts to incorporate both mediums' distinct qualities in order to create a beautifully intimate (yet also unsettling) portrayal of a mother's ill-fated life, which is presented through a recurring motif of interlocking gazes amidst a dream-like world that exists somewhere in-between life and death.

Even before opening the book, the superimposed cyanotype-like photographs of a woman and children at a beach introduce the idea of overlapping perspectives on reality. The number of images used to create the front cover is difficult to distinguish for sure and consequently it could be argued that Fujiwara informs us about the importance of having a closer look at things.
And indeed, as we learn from the important hints provided in the entailed text by Kato Masaki, paying attention to details is truly worth the effort. Those who neglect to do so will ultimately overlook the book's intelligent sequence, picture-in-picture imagery and economical yet efficient use of text.

Altogether, rather than simply linking the 63 black-and-white photographs together as a classical chronological narrative, a circular time structure is emphasized that behaves similar to that of a musical fugue which likewise features repetition and alteration in order to reference about past, present and future parts of the piece. However, in the case of 'Butterfly had a dream', it seems as if not only time but also the otherwise separated spheres of life and afterlife mysteriously begin to intermingle.

"Back then she worked part time at a certain bar in Shinjuku, but her real profession was that of female Japanese bondage master. Her father had been a professional insect collector, […] but took his life a number of years ago. Then, after suffering an unfaithful husband and heavy debt, she grew mentally unstable around the time of her father's death. So she sent away her two beloved children, to live in the hometown of her mother's family on Miyakojima Island. A few times a year, she would visit them on Miyakojima - in springtime, when the children moved up a grade in school, and in fall for their yearly school sporting event. […] The butterfly sought after by her father, whom she loved and respected dearly, flitted between the earthly realm and fantasy." (Taken from 'Butterfly had a dream')

As soon as the young mother visits the island of Miyakojima, one of the most southern islands of the Japanese archipelago, we are made believe that the butterfly, described by Kato as an ancient 'symbol of the soul', becomes a vehicle for the deceased father who, through the body of a cherished insect, is seemingly observing a reality he was once a part of. The implied interlocking of gazes between the butterfly and FUJIWARA's perspective is an interesting set-up since the photographer himself is never physically visible in his work.

The illusion is even more convincing because of FUJIWARA's use of a tilted-frame and shot reverse shots from time to time as a means of evoking a feeling of levitation (and even omnipresence) on his part. The suggested movement between pictures taken and edited in that specific way seems consistent with that of a butterfly's flight. 
Arguably the most successful implementation of this method can be seen on a double page showing two juxtaposed photographs of the mother and daughter on a ship at sea.

Looking at the same subject matter, seen from two different angles presumably almost at the same time, a notion of simultaneity originates, which rather corresponds with the quick movement of a butterfly than that of a human being. Consequently, we seem to observe the scenery through the eyes of a third enigmatic party other than the photographer. 

The relatively small format of the book (approx. 21 x 17 cm) suits the intimate nature of FUJIWARA's photographs well. The ability to hold it comfortably in our hands or place it on our lap while carefully turning the pages back and forth provides an ideal setting from which to acquaint oneself with this complex work.
The book's tangibility, in contrast to a display of prints in an exhibition, is an important factor that heightens the chances for the viewer to experience a more immediate reaction to the photographic body of work at hand. While an exhibition's structure tends to provide even larger groups of people access to the artist's work simultaneously (the act of looking then becomes a collective experience), a book's size on the other hand normally prohibits this. Its content is accessible to no more than a few individuals at once.

For this reason, as it has been said before, it is an inherently intimate medium. Atsushi FUJIWARA's photobook 'Butterfly had a dream' is undoubtedly proof of that." (source: https://faraway-eyes.blogspot.jp/2014/04/fujiwara-atsushi-butterfly-had-dream.html)