Don't forget my takeaway love
Guillem Ayora is a Spanish photographer based in Barcelona. In 2022, he self-published two books, 'Don't forget my takeaway love' and 'Tokyo guide for human beings.' While Tokyo is the connecting thread in those publications, and one might be seen as complementary to the other, the stories are distinct. In this interview, we discuss in-depth the photobook 'Don't forget my takeaway love,' designed and co-edited by Mònica Casugas and printed by Nova Era Publications. From the glimpse at
the city of Tokyo and its atmosphere to the still lives, which depict the culture and the day-to-day in the smallest details, the viewer encounters the story. The story of love unfolds through the portraits of Kou and self-portraits. The power and the sensuality in the gaze imply an emotional rollercoaster, taking the viewer through intimate moments. The theme of memory is predominant in the narrative, emphasizing the importance of the occurrences and providing a sense of closure.
Guillem explains the choice for the title, “The title of the photobook is the English translation of something I wrote to Kou on a cup of coffee when we were still dating (持ち帰り愛を忘れないで). I consciously chose the word ‘takeaway’ to refer to my love for him because, in Japanese, it is composed of two verbs: 'to grab' and 'to go back.’” We speak about the work on design and editing with Mònica, the most meaningful images, and the concept of memory.
Photography by Guillem Ayora Designer and Co-Editor Mònica Casugas Print and Photomechanics Nova Era Publications
Team: Guillem Ayora, Mònica Casugas, Nova Era Publications, Adina, Arnau, Daniel, Irene, Jingshi, Joan, Josu, Nuria, Takeshi
Photobook launch at Terranova, Barcelona
Publication Details
100 copies
88 pages
21x15 cm
Get your copy at https://www.guillemayora.com/dfmtl-book
‘My relationship with Tokyo was always rather spiritual and individualistic: Tokyo and me. It brought me a sense of belonging that I had never felt since I was a young adult.’
Don't forget my takeaway love
This is your second self-published photobook in a year, after Tokyo Guide For Human Beings. Tell about your fascination with Japanese culture as you start the book — Don't forget my takeaway love —with an explanation of the word ‘takeaway’ and its double meaning in Japanese.
There’s more than one explanation as to why I self-published two books in a row, both of them related to my two-year stay in Tokyo. Not only am I deeply connected to the city, but we could also 'blame it' on the fact that I love books (and anything material, physical, something you can touch and feel the weight of).
On one hand, it is undeniable that a part of me can’t stop thinking about this city. I remember crying on my flight back from my first trip to Tokyo and thinking, “I feel home here.” Soon after, I decided to start saving money to move there. My relationship with Tokyo was always rather spiritual and individualistic: Tokyo and me. It brought me a sense of belonging that I had never felt since I was a young adult. Almost as if the city was a sacred ground, and that feeling helped me stay calm. Like we were both respecting each other.
On the other hand, one month after returning to Barcelona, I decided to start working on my first photobook — Don’t forget my takeaway love. Like in many other aspects of my life, my relationship with photography is one where I like to see its physicality, or its 'reality' or 'existence.' Just like a family member or friend who I’d want to see and hug from time to time to make sure they still exist, I have recently needed this from my photographs.
It was through the journey of editing my photobook that I continuously touched memories from my experience in Tokyo. So I decided to write a Tokyo guide. On weekday mornings, before I’d go to work, I’d sit in a cafe and write it as if I was introducing the city to a friend. In it, I explained the basics of Japanese daily life and also recommended my favorite spots to go for coffee, for dinner with friends, for a walk on a first date, etc.
Even though they are closely related — Don’t forget my takeaway love — the photobook explores my love for Tokyo and for Kou, someone I loved deeply. With a constant search for beauty, the photos in the book can be seen from two points of view: a positive filter, elegant captures of the experiences I lived, or with a bittersweet filter, memories of moments that passed and will never exist again. At my photobook launch, someone said to me that they could see how strongly Kou’s eyes looked at me as I photographed him. As if they really loved and needed me. It’s funny that, on the contrary, when I look at his photos now, I see him looking at me with a touch of discomfort, as if he wouldn’t need me at all.
The title of the photobook — Don’t forget my takeaway love — is the English translation of something I wrote to Kou on a cup of coffee when we were still dating (持ち帰り愛を忘れないで). I consciously chose the word ‘takeaway’ to refer to my love for him because, in Japanese, it is composed of two verbs: 'to grab' and 'to go back.' My love for Kou was able to exist and be kept with me even if I returned home. In a way, a confession of 'anywhere' love.
‘Mònica, instead, suggested looking at double pages as if they were a blank canvas and working on each painting individually: finding the composition and color balance within each canvas.’
Design
You worked with Mònica Casugas on editing and design of the book. What catches the eye are the decisions you made regarding the layout in the book: playing with positioning, size, and crop of the images as they appear on double spreads. Could you tell us more about the process and the main idea behind this that helped in creating a narrative?
I think that working with Mònica Casugas was a great choice and a big success. She taught me to look at photobooks in a different way than what I am used to — as an editor instead of as an image maker or image reader. In my mind, the importance relied on creating the sequence of photos, choosing which one goes first, which one goes second, which one goes third, etc. After developing the sequence, I would then start positioning them in the book.
Mònica, instead, suggested looking at double pages as if they were a blank canvas and working on each painting individually: finding the composition and color balance within each canvas first, then heading to the second canvas and doing the same, then the third canvas, etc. After this process, we looked at all the canvases and decided which order to give them. Almost as if we were holding an exhibition and had to hang my paintings on a long white wall.
With the right book start and end, we placed our canvases in the order we found most suitable, thus creating a narrative that flowed from page to page. I must add that there is no cropping. All the photos are in their original ratio and have only been lightly adjusted to remove film frames. I shoot with various cameras, and that explains their different ratios.
‘I would even dare and say that the story could not have started any other way. It could’ve only been the views from my window at K-House.’
Kou
In building the narrative that consists of portraits of Kou, self-portraits, landscapes, and still lives, what is the image that stands out for you and perhaps ‘holds’ the story together? Or with which image do you have the most emotional connection?
The photos at the start and end of the photobook were very important. I would even dare and say that the story could not have started any other way. It could’ve only been the views from my window at K-House, the sharehouse where I lived. I think it sets the tone for the whole story and expresses this sense of comfort and belonging that I experienced.
On the other hand, when it comes to the photo that I have the most emotional connection with, I would have a hard time choosing one single image. There are a series of important moments in my stay in Tokyo that I relate to specific photographs. Arrival to Tokyo and the summer end’s hanabi Hanabi = firework. K-House’s rooftop. Kou’s portrait in my room. Self-portrait on tatami towards the end of my stay
‘We are the only ones who know what is behind them, and sometimes, those memories sabotage our capacity to create good work.’
The Challenge
What was the most challenging part of working on the book in terms of printing, publishing, editing, or any additional section of the process?
One of the most difficult parts of the process was working with my own photographs. We are the only ones who know what is behind them, and sometimes, those memories sabotage our capacity to create good work. That’s why I was always open to hearing what Mònica Casugas had to say about the photo selection. She was capable of understanding my story and the layers of information within my photographs but still being unbiased.
It was hard to see some photographs go. I also need to emphasize how thankful I am for the team that worked with me. Finding people capable of taking care of my photobook as much as I did was key! I couldn’t have done it without Mònica, Pedro from Nova Era (the printers), or Lucía from Terranova (an incredible bookstore in Barcelona).
Next Steps?
What are your plans for the next projects or topics you’d like to research?
I plan to continue developing visual research into who I am and what is important to me as a highly sensitive person. Even through the process of making the photobook, I’ve continued to photograph my daily life. I want to work on a story that explores my desire to feel at home at the place where I was born. For some reason, still to this day, I feel uncomfortable as a citizen born and raised in Barcelona. I can’t seem to find a sense of belonging or a calm state here.
To a certain extent, this new project would become an opposite point of view from — Don’t forget my takeaway love — which explored the feeling of belonging somewhere foreign.
At the photobook launch we held at Terranova, a friend said to me, “Now you’ve set your standard of work.” And I think that is very true. I must (and want to) continue working on the material or physical aspect of my photography, taking close attention to both the beauty in the photographs and the beauty in the object.
