Pimp Your Truck

You spent a full ten years amongst the truckers. What did you learn about their way of living?

About two or three years into the project, I realised that the trucks rather than the drivers were being overly emphasised in the photographs. Because if you don’t define your subject, the subject defines itself. So I started going to meetings where large numbers of truckers would gather. They were all very outgoing, and I gradually felt welcomed into their community. Then, I started to discover things I respected about them - and things I didn’t like. For the first time, I felt I really knew the truckers. I realised that they possess a sense of masculinity that is dying out in Japan. I could also understand their feeling of wanting to decorate the tools they use for work. People are surprised that I spent ten years on this project, but it simply takes time to really understand something. And I wanted to really understand the things I wanted to express. That is why it took so long. Some sci-fi robot approaching: an envious eye-catcher at the loading docks. From the “Decotora” photo book. © Masaru Tatsuki By now, you stopped taking pictures of Decotora. Is there any particular image that sticks with you? If I had to name the most powerful one in the collection, I would say it is the one on the cover: It was raining hard that night, and the wet asphalt was reflecting the truck lights. It seemed so lonely, parked there, just like a person. I feel that photographing the decotora and their drivers will really stay with me. I learned a lot about people and photography! Majestic! Elegant! Pretentious!? Make way for the King of the Road. From the “Decotora” photo book. © Masaru Tatsuki