Tokyo Weekender - February 2017

Whether regarded as a seedy
remnant of bubble era
nightlife or a functional
convenience for couples
in need of privacy and discretion, love
hotels remain a profitable and necessary
part of the Japanese landscape. From
cheating lovers, or married couples
seeking solace from their compact
family homes, to lovestruck youths with
nowhere else to go, and overworked
businessmen forced to schedule their
amorous pursuits, the visitors to love
hotels come from all walks of life.
When the establishments first
appeared around the 1970s, they were
known for their eye-catching decor,
themed rooms and titillating playfulness.
In recent years, the gaudiness has been
toned down, with state-of-the-art facilities
and abundant amenities replacing
novelty value as the prime selling point.
This evolution is a combination of changing
tastes and wavering demands as well
as the consequence of increasingly complex
licensing restrictions. These hotels
stand brazenly in plain sight across the
country, and yet for many they remain
somewhat of a taboo.
Belgian photographer Zaza Bertrand’s
award-winning Japanese
Whispers photo series offers an unusual
glimpse behind the closed doors, documenting
the hotels and the people who
use them. Other photographers who’ve
focused on love hotels have tended to
concentrate their interest on the physical
spaces, the kitschy interiors, exoticizing
the unfamiliar, and presenting the
rooms as no more than quirky locations.
However, Bertrand’s pictures selectively
capture her own encounters, displaying
real slices of humanity with an atmospheric
poignancy conveyed in sometimes
cinematic composition.
Intimacy plays a prominent role in
all of Bertrand’s work, with her portfolio
I DIDN’T KNOW
WHAT TO EXPECT;
I DIDN’T CHOOSE
THE PEOPLE.
WHOEVER WANTED
TO PARTICIPATE,
I PHOTOGRAPHED
… I JUST WANTED
IT TO BE REAL
cementing an ongoing theme of interaction and human
contact. Having previously photographed young people
around Europe, Egypt and Panama, it was in 2011 that
she first visited Japan. “People were very open ... very
sexual and physical in Panama ... I wanted to go somewhere
that’s not the same,” she explains. Immediately
intrigued by the manners and social behavior of the
Japanese people, she soon became curious about the
industries dealing with an apparent disconnect between
natural desires and people’s ability to openly and honestly
express themselves. Love hotels, hostess bars, cuddle
cafés, crying therapy – Japan has conveniently created
alternative solutions to a multitude of modern day
problems, debatably at the expense of nurturing healthy
organic relationships.
Bertrand speaks fondly of Japan, inspired by the
perfection and attention to detail, which is so different
from her own easy-going European upbringing. She is
fascinated by what she perceives as organization and
control of basic human needs. “I found it interesting ...
[they] don’t always have a lot of time for basic emotions
in [their] life, so there’s been something created just for
that,” she says, voicing her thoughts on love hotels and
cuddle cafés. “That things like that can be organized, to
me that’s not so natural.”
The strangeness of the love hotel system, this
pre-planned arrangement of emotions and behavior,
is manifested in a kind of tension; one you can surely
experience firsthand should you ever find yourself
inside such an establishment, and one that intrigued the
photographer and is apparent in her images. “You get
this pressure when you enter the hotel, you can sense it
in the air, people go there for one purpose ... everything
is kind of fake. Sometimes when you make love, it just
happens and you don’t need to plan it, but here it’s all
so specific and predetermined.”
The photographs were taken during two trips to
Japan, in 2014 and 2016, before and after the birth of
her son. She first stayed in Fukuoka and later in Tokyo,
employing the help of friends to try and negotiate
subjects who would be comfortable being photographed.
They initially approached couples directly at the hotel
entrances, offering to pay for the price of the room, but
TOKYO WEEKENDER | FEBRUARY 2017 | 25