The ama: From myth to labour

The exhibition Shima no Ama, curated by Sonia Voss and presented at Huis Marseille, Museum for Photography in Amsterdam between 18 October 2025 and 8 February 2026, brings renewed visibility to the photographic archive that Japanese photographer Kusukazu Uraguchi built by observing the ama divers of Shima for more than three decades. We spoke with curator Voss about the exhibition, which focuses on the divers’ everyday lives and the relationship they forge with their bodies and the sea

Interview: Elâ Atakan

Sonia Voss. Photo: Anne Immelé

The exhibition Shima No Ama, curated by Sonia Voss at Huis Marseille, takes as its point of departure the singular relationship she maintains with the notion of ama. This term refers to the women fishers and divers of the coastal regions of Japan, particularly in Shima, who descend beneath the surface in breath-hold diving to collect seaweed and abalone. Their knowledge, transmitted from generation to generation, as well as their rituals and their physical endurance, grant them a singular place within the Japanese cultural imagination.

Even before approaching this subject, Voss engaged in extensive research on the ways in which the ama have been represented in Japanese literature, visual culture, and art history. From poems to prints, from folklorised images to modern iconographies, she examines the frameworks of vision that have imposed themselves over time. It is precisely here that the desire crystallises to tell another story, to approach a lived world beyond representations that idealise, eroticise, or freeze the ama outside of time.

This path leads Sonia Voss to the photographs of the Japanese photographer Kusukazu Uraguchi. From the mid-1950s onward, and for nearly thirty years, Uraguchi photographed the ama in the Shima region where he was born, accompanying their work as closely as possible and over time. His gaze, at once attentive and deeply respectful, bears witness to a world in the process of disappearing, without ever fixing it in an idealised nostalgia. After the photographer’s death in 1988, his son preserved a considerable archive, which remained largely unexplored. Access to this body of work marked a decisive turning point in the project, opening a field of research and reading of unprecedented scope.

Sonia Voss’s approach to this archive plays a central role here. Far from being conceived as a simple reservoir of images, the ensemble of entrusted negatives is approached as a living material, requiring time, attention, and responsibility. Thousands of previously unseen photographs were patiently digitised over the course of several months, while the notes left by Uraguchi, his reflections on certain motifs, and his reworkings of images were carefully taken into account. This meticulous work makes it possible to draw out a reading that is both faithful to the spirit of the photographer and attentive to the multiple layers of his gaze. The exhibition that results does not reduce itself to a selection of images; it is the fruit of a long-term curatorial engagement, founded on listening, precision, and respect.

Through this exhibition, it becomes possible to approach the world of the ama from a perspective that is at once close and devoid of idealisation. Uraguchi’s images show a daily life composed of repeated gestures, physical effort, moments of concentration and rest, far from spectacular or folklorised representations. At the same time, Sonia Voss’s attentive work allows the oeuvre of a photographer who disappeared more than thirty years ago to resurface like archives brought back up from the depths. This return to visibility is not the result of chance; it proceeds from a patient attention, carried by one woman toward the world of other women, and renders perceptible the profoundly human dimension of this deferred encounter.

Within this approach, the body occupies a central place, not as an object of vision, but as a site of knowledge, rhythm, and negotiation with the environment. Adjusting one’s breathing, adapting to the temperature of the water, finding one’s way among forests of seaweed, extracting the catch from narrow rocky fissures: this ensemble of technical and physical knowledge never appears as an explicit subject in Uraguchi’s photographs. Rather, it surfaces in the very texture of the images, in the reflections of light, the depth of the blacks, the instability of the framing. The seabed takes on the appearance of a territory almost in weightlessness, a threshold where the rules of the known world seem momentarily suspended.

First presented in 2024 within the framework of the Rencontres d’Arles, the exhibition is today reinterpreted at Huis Marseille through a new spatial arrangement. This version is enriched with additional photographs, a video specially conceived for the project, as well as period wooden panels, recently restored, used during the first presentations in Japan. The choice to integrate these historical elements into the Amsterdam context testifies to the respect the curator holds for the original conditions of production and presentation of Uraguchi’s work. It is less a matter of reconstructing a dispositif than of extending its spirit, while maintaining an attentive dialogue between the images, their history, and the place that hosts them.

In order to look at this project even more closely, we wished to give the floor to the exhibition’s curator, Sonia Voss. The questions that follow return to her research trajectory, her encounter with the work and archive of Kusukazu Uraguchi, as well as the curatorial choices that shaped Shima No Ama. They open a space for reflection around this attentive approach, constructed over time, as close as possible to the images and to what they allow us to see.

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Kusukazu Uraguchi, Shima no Ama, Exhibition view, Curator: Sonia Voss, 2025, Huis Marseille, Museum for Photography

How did you discover the existence of Uraguchi’s photographic archives? What was your first encounter with them like? What did it represent for you to discover a collection made up of 35,000 negatives? I know that you are half Japanese: did this bring you closer to this material, or are there points of resonance with your own story?

I searched for a long time for photographic material that would respond to my fascination with the ama, these Japanese women of the sea who form very particular communities along the coasts of the archipelago. The ama have been photographed a great deal, often through an exoticising gaze. In the end, it was through a book found at an online antiquarian bookseller that I discovered the work of Uraguchi Kusukazu, after which I managed to get in touch with his son, who has preserved his father’s archive since the latter’s death in 1988. At that time, I had no idea of the volume represented by his archive, nor of the scale of his commitment to this world already in the process of disappearing. Part of it around 15,000 negatives had been scanned by a local museum. After reviewing this first group of images, I asked his son whether there was anything else. It was then that he entrusted me with another 20,000 negatives, which I scanned myself and which had not been seen by anyone since Uraguchi’s death.

I do not know to what extent my Japanese origins made me sensitive to this work. It is certain that in Paris, where I grew up, I knew many Japanese women who, like my mother, showed a very strong spirit of independence and great courage in leaving Japan and rebuilding their lives far from home. Perhaps there was a desire to convey another image of the Japanese woman than that of the perfect housewife, the delicate artist, or the muse lending herself to every erotic extravagance. But I am not sure that this was my motivation. The world of the ama is fascinating, both through their history and through the bonds these women maintain with one another and with the aquatic element. They are extremely inspiring, well beyond the Japanese context.

Kusukazu Uraguchi, Shima no Ama, Exhibition view, Curator: Sonia Voss, 2025, Huis Marseille, Museum for Photography

How were the multiple layers of the world of the ama integrated into the conception of the exhibition?

I conceived the exhibition, on the one hand, by trying to reconstruct the daily life of the ama: a working day typically begins with arrival on the beach, the preparation of work tools, entry into the water, then of course the dives and the regular breaks on the beach during which one warms oneself around a fire… Then finally the sale of the product at the wholesale market. It is very simple and at the same time incredibly well regulated by the rhythm of the seasons, the rules that the ama establish themselves to avoid overfishing, the pace linked to their physical capacities, etc. In this part, I tried to render the flow of the day, the energy that inhabits these women, I was concerned with questions of rhythm and movement. By starting with an image from the mid-1950s and ending with a photograph from the 1980s, I aimed to trace the development of Uraguchi’s practice over time, as he photographed the ama for more than thirty years.

On the other hand, I imagined the project as a sequence of chapters addressing various aspects of the ama’s lives: their relationship to Buddhist and Shinto religion; village festivals (matsuri); childhood water games (mizuasobi), through which young girls learn the basic gestures of fishing and seaweed gathering; and the amagoya, a communal resting space reserved for women. And of course underwater diving, with large formats of images made by Uraguchi with the Nikonos. I wanted to account for this double concern ethnographic and aesthetic of Uraguchi and to show the way in which he developed a visual language adequate to translate the richness of the world of the ama.

Kusukazu Uraguchi, Shima no Ama, Exhibition view, Curator: Sonia Voss, 2025, Huis Marseille, Museum for Photography

In the works of artists such as Hokusai or Utamaro, the ama often appear represented in a very eroticised way. In Uraguchi’s photographs, on the contrary, it is the physical dimension, the difficulty of the work and its almost miraculous character that stand out. What do you think about this? Does this archive seem to you to bring the gaze back toward a form of reality? I must confess an amusing anecdote: despite reading all the wall texts, for a long time I thought that the person behind the camera was a woman. While preparing these questions, I realised for the first time that Uraguchi was a man.

That gives me great pleasure. Because that is really what decided me to work on this archive. The fact that, with Uraguchi, the ama were approached with a profound understanding of their lives, of their environment, of their difficulties, but also of their personalities… Uraguchi was interested in, moved by, the real life of these women, not by an idealised world of which they would have been the last representatives. He restored their energy, their moods, he never turned them into models.

With regard to the neoprene suits, rarely shown in photographs of the time, Uraguchi acknowledges that one could regret the disappearance of the traditional white cotton garment. However, neoprene eased the physical demands of the ama’s labour, and this, for him, took precedence over any other concern. The beauty of the ama in his photographs resides not in nudity, but in freedom, vitality, and a certain modernity.

Kusukazu Uraguchi, Shima no Ama, Exhibition view, Curator: Sonia Voss, 2025, Huis Marseille, Museum for Photography

The ama practise a respected profession in Japanese culture, and their relationship to nudity differs markedly from that of Western societies. Would you say that they are independent? You have also noted that they were considered highly desirable partners: from the perspective of religious beliefs, how does this shape their distinctive position within society?

It is often said that, within Shinto culture, which does not sharply separate humans from other living beings, the body is not burdened with the same notions of shame found in many Western traditions.This would have been introduced with Confucianism. Later, in the twentieth century, Westerners became increasingly numerous in visiting Japan, which accentuated this tendency. I would indeed say that the ama are free, at least in relation to their bodies: they are powerful, they have access to the underwater world to which no one, at that time, could gain access, they are competitive, although solidaristic…

Moreover, the income they earned from the products of their fishing made them relatively independent. One must not, however, fall into idealisation and imagine that they formed a matriarchal society, as has sometimes been written. But marrying an ama was the guarantee of a good life and, consequently, they enjoyed a good position in the villages: it is said that they could choose their husband freely and stand up to their mother-in-law, which, given family structures in Japan, is significant.

Kusukazu Uraguchi, Shima no Ama, Exhibition view, Curator: Sonia Voss, 2025, Huis Marseille, Museum for Photography

Could you tell us a little more about their link with spirituality, but also the rites they perform before diving?

At the outset, there is the myth of the princess Yamatohime-no-Mikoto who, according to legend, would have established not far from Shima a sanctuary dedicated to Amaterasu, a divinity associated with the creation of Japan. On her journey, she encountered an ama and asked her to make an offering of abalone at the Ise Grand Shrine. Today, the Ise Grand Shrine is one of the most important Shinto sites in Japan, and the ama of the Shima region continue to uphold the tradition of these ritual offerings.

In Uraguchi’s photographs, the ama pray before diving and wear head coverings bearing sacred or protective inscriptions. They regularly go to the shrine or to the temple to make offerings there. This is of course explained by the dangers linked to their profession. The memory or the legend of nine ama lost at sea in a more or less mythical past, as well as, on a more realistic level, the accidents that sometimes darken the lives of the ama, reinforce the necessity of these rituals.

In moving from Arles to Amsterdam, the exhibition has been enriched. What narrative or which aspect has become more visible in this new version?

With Nanda van den Berg and the scenographers of Huis Marseille, Philip Luschen and Vivian Seffinga, we wished to create an immersive space, by recreating the atmosphere of the amagoya, these sheet-metal huts, lined with tatami, installed not far from the beach. There we project a short film, conceived by Adrien Lhoste, which allows us to show a few more images than those presented in the form of prints. The emphasis is placed on the so-called “flute of the sea,” a whistling sound produced by the ama as they exhale before diving, a sound whose melancholic quality has often been evoked in poetry.

We also added a few prints in order to adapt the exhibition to Huis Marseille, which, unlike the refectory of the abbey of Montmajour, very horizontal, is arranged over several levels. Finally, in the very beautiful garden house of Huis Marseille, we present on the wall a reproduction of the pages of Uraguchi’s first book, Shima Fudoki, which underlines the photographer’s close connection to his region and his attention to local culture. But for the most part, the exhibition is the same as at the Rencontres d’Arles.

Kusukazu Uraguchi, Shima no Ama, Exhibition view, Curator: Sonia Voss, 2025, Huis Marseille, Museum for Photography

What did it mean for you to work with the original restored wooden panels? I have the impression that this almost gives the sensation of touching the reality of the ama, or of being part of it.

The challenge of this project was the almost complete absence of period prints in Uraguchi’s archive. At the time, the circulation of so-called “amateur” photography passed mainly through printed supports: magazines in particular, and in the case of Uraguchi, two books, one of which was self-published. There were, however, group exhibitions, organised for the winners of various competitions. Uraguchi even benefited from a few solo exhibitions at a regional level. It was there that he presented his photographs in the form of panels: wooden stretchers made by a local craftsman onto which silver gelatin prints were mounted. These objects are the only artefacts at our disposal.

Beyond their beauty, they shed light on Uraguchi’s printing choices, the contrasts, in particular, are striking as well as on the mode of presentation favoured, typical of the practices of the time. In my practice as an exhibition curator, I pay attention, whenever I can, to allowing the viewer access to objects conceived by or under the supervision of the artist. This creates a direct link that the modern print, however careful and high-quality it may be, cannot entirely replace. The aura of the original remains irreplaceable.

How do you feel this way of working has influenced your practice? Does this project have a particular significance within your work with archives?

Working with a large number of photographs, or even with the complete production of a photographer, makes it possible to better understand their work, their artistic choices, and the evolution of their gaze. There is the final work, whether it takes the form of a closed series, a publication, or another outcome, and there is also everything that was rejected or set aside, sometimes for later. This material can be just as illuminating. These are sometimes excellent photographs which, at a given moment, simply served the artist’s intention or the format of the project less than other images.

When presenting a body of work fifty years later, or more, it seems to me that one can, and even must, adopt approaches different from those of the photographer at the time. One can gain distance: for example, by placing the work in relation to other currents of its period, by comparing images made at different moments in the photographer’s life, or by providing contextual elements to help the public understand the work. This must be done, of course, while respecting the spirit of the work and with full transparency regarding what is being shown. In the case of Uraguchi, there was also a desire to bring full attention to a photographer and his singular approach, even though he himself was rather modest and primarily concerned with documenting the lives of the ama in order to make them known to as many people as possible.

Kusukazu Uraguchi, Shima no Ama, Exhibition view, Curator: Sonia Voss, 2025, Huis Marseille, Museum for Photography