Miwa Susuda: “Any book I make will have a hater and a lover”
At 6397 we often speak of making our clothes for women just living their lives, in New York and in cities around the world - women doing their own thing, day-to-day, without much fuss.
Earlier this year I was introduced to Miwa Susuda, the woman behind influential imprint Session Press and longtime manager of Dashwood Books, one of NYC’s great specialists. I’d recently gotten to know her better in conversation — she also being from Japan and someone who has built a creative, independent life in NYC.
Below is an edited version of her thoughts from our time together, which tells her story:
(Miwa Susuda): I was born in Asakusa in Tokyo, and grew up in Chiba. My parents are both teachers, so I'm from a very humble background.
I started thinking about my future when I was 15. Back in high school, I was really into Indian Buddhism and Chinese literature and philosophy. I felt like a lot of fundamental ideas in Japan came from China and India, so I thought studying them was essential to understanding my background more deeply. I ended up reading a lot of books during that time. Even now whenever I come across a nice sentence, I write it down; I want to keep it for myself.
I read a book by Atsushi Nakajima, Moon Over the Mountain. This story is about a man whose beast consumed him. He wanted to be an important officer in the government but knew that many people were smarter than he — so he gave up before he tried. The book is about how everyone has a beast, a wild animal in the heart. And if you don't take care of it, this wild animal will eat you up and take over your personality. You then become miserable, you’re not a human being anymore. So everybody needs to take care of their own wild animal inside even though you are afraid of an uncertain future because of your cowardly ego.
When I read this, I understood that if I had an idea inside, I should go for it until I get it. Otherwise, I might still have a beast that could be evil, scared or lonely that it would eat me up and I will end up living a life full of regrets. I was only 15, but I started thinking about life; I decided to choose a very challenging life.
I wanted to study in the US and establish myself as a respected professional in a specific field, even as I grew older. Of course, I liked art and painting, all that. But I decided that I should be a professional in the arts at the age of 15. I really thought about it, you know?
When I came to the US for a graduate program in museum studies at F.I.T. I thought I would just stay in the U.S. for a couple of years after I graduated and go back to Tokyo and work at a fancy gallery. But somehow, I ended up staying here much longer. I ended up working at an immigration lawyer's office for eight years.
In December, 2005 I quit my job to work at Dashwood Books for David Strettell. Many of my friends said, “Don't do it. Work at a bookstore? It’s a stupid idea. I didn't listen to any of them because I knew what I was doing.
I think my New York life started when I started to work for Dashwood. I chose to become a photo book specialist. I respect David because he knows so much about photography, including Japanese photography.
Working at Dashwood was already what I wanted: to support artists and serve the community. But over time I started feeling unhappy about being only the assistant and listening to others all the time. I realized that I have my own vision and that I wanted to be an independent, professional woman. Even though I love Dashwood, I wanted to really show what I’ve got to the rest of the world. That’s how I decided to create my own company, Session Press.
I wanted to make sure that my publishing house is unique in the industry. I want to support Japanese, Chinese and Korean people — Asian people — because sometimes I feel [society] is against them, politically or economically. In the Western photography industry not many people know about Asian photographers, they aren’t known and appreciated. I want to show what we (Asians) got through my publications.
I used all my savings to make my first book. It was a handmade book with Kohey Kanno. He was working at Dashwood and always complained that he didn’t have any money to finish up making a book. I finally said, “Why don't I help you?” like, just to get it done! That was in 2013, eleven years ago. And then little by little, I could make another book…
I like work that really moves me. It sounds so simple. Many people ask me, “Why don't you make a book with a female photographer? Or a book about feminism or politics?” But I don't start like that. I start with how I feel. And then I want to make sure that the photographer shows like… 120% of who they are, and show that they are serious. And then the work should be unique. And then it really speaks to my heart, not a big theme: “This is about Japanese…I wanna change society…” stuff like that. I have to make sure that the work itself really moves me first.
Sometimes ugly and imperfect images move me more than the clean, beautiful images. It doesn't have to be technically advanced. Like the work of Momo Okabe: she uses a very cheap camera to take snapshots but her work moves me because she truly understands the feelings of people on the fringes of society and reflects herself in them so well. Momo has her own unique, strong voice that is authentic and true to herself, and she believes in it wholeheartedly. That’s why I’m drawn to her work—because it’s genuinely true to who she is. I believe this kind of work deserves to be known by others, and that’s how I decide who I want to make a book with.
I think a book is the best way to show photography, better than Instagram or any other medium. The book is also like architecture or an orchestra - it's not only one person's job. Somebody needs to be the conductor and then everybody — the printer, the designer — has to do their part best. And I hate to say this, but it has to be enjoyable to keep it in a library; it’s got to have some kind of pleasure as a physical object.
I'm not going to satisfy everybody with every book I publish. I totally understand there's a risk that some people might hate a book project, but I choose what I think will work best at this moment. So, any book I make will have a hater and a lover.
Under Covid lockdown I started posting “My Favorite Dashwood Friends of the Day” on Instagram. I just wanted to let people know that Dashwood would survive. After lockdown, I started taking pictures of people at Dashwood with the store logo in the background. I noticed many people on Instagram post happy beach pictures, or images that don’t have a sense of a specific location. It’s always pretty people, big breasts, perfect makeup. Those images are attractive and look beautiful, but I couldn’t’t find the character of the individual in them.
It's just regular, real people. They are New Yorkers. They wear regular outfits and their favorite bag or jacket. When I worked at the immigration lawyers’ office, I helped maids or top bank executives, fancy journalists for publishing companies, software engineers, many types of people. I had a strong idea that regular people should be more celebrated, not just famous people. They come to the United States to get their work visa and work for their dream. I really found the power of “small real people” and I wanted to make sure my Instagram showed them.
I felt happy that Nick Sethi (photographer and publisher) found my Instagram was inspiring and even made a book out of them: Some of Miwa’s Favorite Friends of the Day. I appreciate that somebody found my work so valuable and good for the New York Community — because I really didn't mean to promote or even make a book.
Now people from Africa, Europe or Asia find Dashwood through my Instagram. They visit and ask, “Can I step inside Dashwood? I'm a huge fan of your Instagram…” And then they ask if I can take their picture, too! I’ve been very happy to know you can have a very small intent, stick with it, work with it — then sometimes it can become a bigger dream.
