The first pictures of the day are not for keeping. They are for getting ready.
How would you prepare for a day of street photography in Tokyo?
Would you double-check your bag? Would you bring the extra lens you know you probably won't use, and carry it around all day just in case? Do you have a checklist?
- Extra battery
- Filters
- Lens tissue
- Walking shoes
- Compression socks
- Phone
- Wallet
- Hotel key
All of this is common sense, and I'm sure we all do it without even thinking about it. I do one more thing that I think is vital for a great day of street photography in Tokyo. On my way to the day's location, I take a few minutes to warm up. For me, that place is often Akabane. I pass through it by train or subway, and it's a great spot for street photography at any time of day or night.
It only takes a couple of minutes to pop off the train and walk a few blocks. It gets my mind right. It gets my heart right. And it lets me begin to focus on whatever the day's task or theme might be. Even if that's just walking around and taking pictures, a few friendly blocks help me prepare and set up for a good day.
How I do it
I start either with proximity, somewhere close to where I already am while I'm travelling, which is ideal, or with comfort: somewhere I know well, where I'm confident I'll find something good. That makes the first rule easy to follow. Jump right in.
I mean exactly that. Start taking pictures right away. Don't overthink it. Very likely, it's all throwaway. Think of it as your favourite athlete's pregame stretch, or a prize fighter warming up before the fight. He may be dripping with sweat when he walks out, but he did that so he could perform at his best. Nobody remembers what he did before the match. They remember the match. If you come away with complete and utter garbage, don't worry about it. That's what this time is for.
Why I do it
I think Tokyo is one of the best cities on the planet for street photography, and I feel very lucky to walk these streets day in and day out. I can't take that for granted. Not even for one second. I don't want to miss anything, and I certainly don't want to miss anything because I wasn't prepared. Stopping in a place like Akabane adds twenty to twenty-five minutes to my journey, but I do it almost every day, because I believe it sets me up to take the best pictures I can.
If I've chosen to shoot all day at f/2, I want to spend a few minutes getting used to that very, very narrow depth of field. I want to feel what it's like to photograph somebody at f/2 before I start photographing anybody at f/2.
I want to use the focal length I'm going to key in on that day, and get some frames in before I get going. Some days it's 35mm, other days 24. Sometimes 50, sometimes 85, or even 135. Each one behaves completely differently. Each has its own limitations, its own standards and rules, and its own street photography etiquette that I choose to follow. A few moments spent stepping into that way of thinking only nets better results. At the end of a day on the street, that's what you want: better results. Special day or not, I feel the goal is better results than the day before.
Yesterday, in Akabane
But don't take my word for it. The proof is in the pudding. Yesterday was a 50mm day at f/2, with Ikebukuro as the destination, so I stepped off at Akabane first and spent about thirty minutes, maybe a little more, walking streets I know very well. I started under the old arcade of the Ichibangai Silk Road, where most of the shutters were still down, and the only crowd was the queue that hadn't formed yet outside Maruken Suisan's oden stand.
The first two frames are mostly shadow, people half-seen through a gap between pillars. By the third, someone had walked out into the light. That is the warm-up working: by then I was seeing at f/2 again, not thinking about it. The last ten minutes gave me the frame I'd keep from the session, made through the glass of a phone box, past its green payphone, with a taxi waiting at the curb. Five frames in nine seconds while people crossed in front of it. One of them is the one.
Here are my favourite images from that time, in order, first to last.
Game face
The time we spend on the streets is precious. Spending some of it getting ready to take our best pictures is meaningful. Right now, I'm spending the month in Ikebukuro, working on a special project. When I step onto those streets, I need to have my game face on. I need to be ready. I don't want to waste any of the time I have there.
I also want to be primed to push myself forward, so I'm not spending ten or fifteen minutes getting my courage up to photograph somebody, or to step into a scene that takes confidence. I'm already there. As much as it's creation, as much as it's art, it is also my business, and I have to hold it to the highest possible standard every time I step onto those streets.
So find your Akabane. A station you pass through anyway, a few blocks you know by heart. Give it twenty minutes, and expect nothing from it.
The streets never look the same way twice. I’m curious—how does this side of Tokyo hit you? Drop a comment below.
I live on flat whites and shutter clicks. If you’ve found value in these shots, toss a coffee my way to keep the sensor humming.
For those who want to skip the tourist traps and shoot the real Tokyo, my calendar is open for workshops. Explore the Masterclass here or email me at jeff@tokyoforgeries.com.
See you in the shadows.
Tokyo Forgeries is an evolving archive of Tokyo street photography and vintage-lens deep dives. We spend 30 days in every ward, using mid-century brass and glass to capture the city’s soul. This is a roadmap for the active pursuit of craft—documented through the geography of Tokyo and the character of its light.
