Ichigo Ichie

In this exhibition, Junichi Nakane presents photographs and stories from the many countries and towns he has visited. Each image is accompanied by words capturing what he felt in that moment, creating an intimate record of fleeting encounters. At the opening, small objects collected along his journeys were also displayed — Among them were Winis, strands of colorful glass beads worn by Guna women from the Caribbean coast of Panama on their arms and legs to create intricate patterns; candy and cigarette wrappers; even a hospital card from when he received treatment in Ghana. Together, these fragments formed a space where visitors could step into and relive pieces of his travels. We caught up with Junichi to talk about his artwork, the ideas behind it all.

Q: When you look back on your travels, how would you describe what “travel” means to you?

What drives me most is curiosity about people who live differently, speak different languages, are shaped by different environments, and experience life far from my own. I’m drawn to glimpses of their daily lives.

When I travel, I eat what they eat, I drink what they drink, and I smoke what they smoke. One of the first things I do when I arrive somewhere new is watch what kind of cigarettes are common there, then slip a pack into my pocket instead of Marlboro Lights. People often react like, “That’s what’s up!” I enjoy that. It makes me feel more connected, less like a tourist, even though I am still an outsider.

In a lot of ways, my whole life has been like that, living on foreign soil for decades, learning from each encounter, discovering my own purpose, little by little.

Q: Out of the countless encounters you’ve had, the photographs and stories you selected for this exhibition seem to carry certain themes. What kind of feelings or associations connect them for you?

The photos in this exhibition capture special moments from my journeys. There are countless more stories I could tell, but not every moment was photographed. I also had to narrow it down to 17 pieces for the wall.

These photos show a range of places I’ve visited and the people I’ve met. Each country sparked a curiosity that drew me deeper, but much of my travel was simply about going with the flow and meeting people along the way. That spirit of “Ichigo Ichie”, treasuring each unique encounter, has transformed my travels into true journeys.

Mali was my very first experience on the African continent. I was really fascinated by Dogon culture, which preserved its traditions for centuries before colonization, some say thousands of years. Their history and connection to astronomy are deeply mysterious, reaching back into myth.

Ethiopia drew me in for many reasons. I once saw a photo of an Arbore woman in the Omo Valley and knew I had to go. I was also curious about how Ethiopians view Emperor Haile Selassie I, revered by Rastafarians in the Caribbean and beyond, and wanted to experience the Ethiopian Orthodox Christianity that shaped his faith.

Myanmar’s long isolation and history of conflict made me really curious. What I experienced was deep kindness and respect, incredible food, and a culture still intact despite Western influence.

Q: You’ve preserved encounters and memories not only through photographs, but also the small objects you collected along the way. What role do these hold in your journey?

All those little things I’ve kept are like keys to unlock small moments you might otherwise forget. I have bags of them in my basement now, fabrics, camouflage uniforms, train tickets, flight safety manuals, paper money, coins, beer labels, cigarette boxes, snack packages, anything and everything. The habit began in art school, when I was asked to collect designs and images that caught my eye. My obsession with fabric comes from watching my mother collect kimonos, while my fascination with camouflage grew from geeking out on the science and design behind the patterns and the history of each military force that used them in all different terrain.

When my niece was little, I’d bring her souvenirs, often a traditional dress from each place I visited so she could touch a piece of what I’d experienced. My habit of collecting is the same impulse to hold onto memories and share them in meaningful ways.

I never collect items with deep cultural meaning, unless they’re given as gestures of friendship. Once, I wanted a small stool called a Kara, carried by Hamer men in Ethiopia, but knew it wasn’t mine to take. Likewise, Dogon masks from Mali are sacred, used in funeral ceremonies to guide souls to the afterlife. Bringing one home would feel wrong, and growing up in Japan around Shintoism, I’m also superstitious about inviting spirits into my home.

Q: The phrase “Ichigo Ichie” carries the idea of treasuring each encounter as ”one time, one meeting”. — a moment that will never come again. What does this mean to you personally, and how has it guided the way you approached this exhibition?

One story not included in the exhibition but unforgettable to me happened in Luang Prabang, Laos. After a long journey from Chiang Rai, crossing the Thai-Laos border, dealing with problems exchanging money, scrambling for buses, even being stopped at a police checkpoint, I arrived after midnight to find everything closed. Locals vanised, backpackers had their own agendas, and I wandered around for hours, ready to sleep on a bench. Then, in a quiet alley, a woman stepped out of her kitchen. Our eyes met, and she instantly understood. She waved me in, offered me a room, and I ended up staying with her for a week. She became my aunty in Laos. This is “Ichigo Ichie”.

This spirit applies not only to travel, but to life. It isn’t always easy, but I try to carry good energy, because energy spreads. Whether good or bad, energy is contagious, so my daily practice is to uplift, to show courtesy, and to respect others.

My intention with this exhibition wasn’t just to show portraits, but to share the interactions behind them, the same way I experienced them through my lens. Nothing forced or staged, only something simple, authentic, and full of good energy to welcome everyone who comes to see my photos.

Q: Is there a place you find yourself drawn to for your next journey, and what is it about that place that calls to you?

There are so many places I still want to visit, but one that calls me back is the Dogon village of Ireli Boro, where I was fortunate enough to build a water well.

I would love nothing more than to sit under a tree with my wife, making Ataaya (tea) with that very water, and tell her about all my journeys, even though she’s already heard the stories hundreds of times.

Q: Through all of these travels, what has become the most essential thing you carry with you?

I believe that curiosity, open-mindedness, adaptability, and good energy are the most important things I carry on my journeys. They’ve allowed me to connect with people everywhere and experience countless unexpected adventures.

In Burkina Faso, I wanted to meet people who had lived through Thomas Sankara’s revolution and hear their hopes from that time. In Iran, I was welcomed with such generosity that strangers constantly offered me tea, and once a woman at a train station refused my payment simply because I was a guest. In Mali, my friend Adama hosted me in his home in Bamako, a community where everyone felt like one caring family. It reminded me of my own childhood neighborhood in Japan. I also remember waiting hours to cross the Bani River in Djenné, people relaxing, making tea, moving at a natural rhythm.

These experiences often make me reflect on what happiness really is. In New York City, we have access to nearly everything, can try almost any cuisine, yet we’re always racing against time, weighed down by stress, and not always kind. In contrast, many communities I visited had less materially, or lived in harsher conditions, yet I often saw more joy and care for others in their faces than on a subway platform.

All my journeys have taught me to appreciate life and the people around me, and little by little they’ve given me hints of my own purpose, something I hope to one day fully discover.

Portrait photo by Mel D. Cole @meldcole