Jiji & Kinako: In conversation with Akiko DuPont

Last year, Japanese documentary photographer Akiko Dupont found herself in the limelight with Jiji & Kinako, a series focusing on her elderly grandfather and alzheimer's sufferer Jiji and his beloved cat Kinako. Striking a chord with anyone who has watched a loved one deteriorate from the disease Jiji and Kinako is not only a heartfelt and sensitive look at an illness that affects millions worldwide, but also highlights the positive effects that a pet companion can bring to those suffering.

At Akiko's recent solo exhibition at London's Sway Gallery her images were beautifully printed on Japanese washi paper, surrounded by lots of little details that brought extra personal touches; from hand crafted origami cranes and a toy version of Kinako sitting in the window to Akiko being present each day to chat about her work with visitors.

Jiji and Kinako captures the heart and provokes genuine emotion so #PHOTOGRAPHY Magazine were keen to catch up with Akiko for a more in-depth look at the series.

Could you tell us a bit about your series Jiji and Kinako? What’s the story behind it and why do you think it has struck such a chord with people?

It all began naturally. My grandfather, Jiji, suddenly got hospitalised and was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease. He gradually began to smile less, seem a little sad and from time to time shut himself from the world. That is when Kinako the cat entered his life.

One day Jiji wandered into my room and found the cat. For the first week or so I kept it in my room and didn’t tell anyone about it. His eyes shined with gigantic happiness and this motivated me to start documenting the two.

There was actually no intention to share the photographs to the world when I began. However, by being who they are, they wrapped the whole family with warmth and I began to hope that this photo essay might be able to provide warmth to the viewers out there as well, just like they did with my family.

This began when I still had no idea how to use a camera, Jiji absolutely hated having photos taken of him especially at the beginning. Moreover, for me, documenting the two was also about confronting Jiji’s Alzheimer’s progress. It was challenging and could be heartbreaking at times. I sometimes questioned myself why I am doing this, but after few years of stalking him I’m very glad that I kept taking photos.

In my other documentary projects, I always try to shoot my subjects as neutrally as possible so that my opinion won’t affect the viewers too much. Compared to those, this photo essay “Jiji and Kinako” is extremely personal - nothing neutral. Its personal nature made me not want to publicise it for a long time but after holding the exhibition, I began to think that the fact it was so personal could have been what drew people’s heart.

The story is about love and hope, and the exhibition showed that these elements in the story caught people, but moreover, the topic (dementia) was one that many could relate to. A lot of the viewers seemed to have seen the story and compared it to experiences in their own life or with those that they care about.

Dementia is never a positive thing. The majority of the people I have met who are experiencing dementia have been hit by the thought that their lives have ended, the moment they are officially diagnosed. This became another reason for publishing this story; to send the message that that is not necessarily true. Dementia may bring some change but even after you get diagnosed, there is life. There will be some warm moments waiting. Like the time Jiji had with Kinako.

You can still find that person in special moments that are created by a warm connection. I learned from Jiji and Kinako that it is very important for the people around the patient to embrace each moment together, like any other people in your life, since you know that these moments are very limited. You may feel like you are losing the person but you are not. The fact that you will them will never change and that is the most important thing that you must remember.

“I may change but I will always be me” Jiji said, with a smile, sometime after he began to live with the cat. And that moment, I saw no suffering or loneliness in his face.

There is no escaping the heartbreak and suffering of being with a loved one as they slowly deteriorate before your eyes. However, his words serve as a reminder that there is still joy and human warmth to be shared. I hope that in some small way, this photo essay communicates some of those feelings and his message of hope.

How did you fundraise for the Alzheimer’s Society?

I wanted to make the exhibition a platform both to spread the message of the story and to support a local organisation for dementia, which in this case was the Alzheimer’s Society. So I combined the exhibition with a charity event.

I believe that it is fundamental to support not only the patients but also the people and families around the patients. In addition, the issue of dementia needs more awareness and is a topic that needs to be talked more often. I’m hoping that the exhibition achieved some of this.

You recently exhibited at Sway Gallery London which was your first solo exhibition? Why did you choose London rather than Japan to exhibit?

Sway Gallery London was my first solo exhibition in London and the first show of “Jiji and Kinako”. “Jiji and Kinako” is a story of love and hope, not just about dementia, but I always wish that this story can bring a small opportunity for people to think about it.

Compared to Japan I felt London is a little more open with the subject “dementia”, even though it may be still wrapped by the sense of taboo. It is a very sensitive topic everywhere in the world, which I strongly felt in Japan. For example, “Jiji and Kinako” was published world wide including in Japan, which I’m very grateful, but with no exceptions Japanese articles mostly focused on their cuteness.

Also after meeting the kind people that run Sway Gallery, they were very supportive of my thoughts and exhibition. I embraced the opportunity and after the exhibition, I know that I did the right thing.

If you could choose a ‘favourite’ image from the series, what would it be and why?

I’d say “I’ll Be Watching You” (the one with Jiji sleeping on the bed and Kinako hiding behind the paper window - Shoji). It shows their intimacy, by respecting each other’s own time but staying close enough. Also, in the picture you can find three clocks and a square piece of paper glued on the paper window. The clocks indicates that Jiji had Alzheimer’s disease and the family placed them there hoping they’ll help Jiji know what time of the day it is, and the glued paper shows that Kinako ripped it at some point and shows Kinako’s presence.

All these details give layers to the photo and makes it real. In other words, this photo sums up “Jiji and Kinako” to me. I love all the other “together” photographs equally, since each image is my precious memories, but the tenderness and the details of this image vividly brings me back to that time with Jiji and Kinako.

Do you have any plans to exhibit the project elsewhere?

Photographs can get close to complete by getting printed and/or seen. I hope there will be another exhibition opportunity sometime.

For me, an exhibition is not just a place to share your work, I also learn a lot from it. For instance, during the last exhibition; “Jiji and Kinako on Washi” this couple came to the gallery, who said they are going through an early stage dementia. They looked through the exhibition, maybe about half an hour or so, again and again. Then he said to his wife “I’m glad that I have you”, with a soft smile.

This was one of other moments during this exhibition that made me think, and reminded me of how people make this world rich.

What other documentary projects have you been working on recently and why do you enjoy working in a reportage style?

I want to be the hand that delivers moments of my subject’s messages that have yet to be heard. To accomplish this, I chose documentary.

Doing this work allows me to have an opportunity to learn about people’s lives, and learning about a life is like reading a precious book; I can’t compare which life is better and which is more special. I embrace each and every life I encounter through photography, like any other person in life, and I’m very grateful for having the opportunity to do what I’m doing.

As for other subjects, for the past few years I’ve been working on the woman in the small village in the Philippines. Also for this year, I would like to begin a new project in my own country especially in the human rights field.

Have you had any pivotal moments in your career so far?

I love people, and that is one of the reasons why I want to keep holding my camera. I cherish every acquaintance.

I met a 94 year old tattoo artist in the Philippines and was told later that her fiance was killed by the Japanese Imperial Army during World War II. She hesitated to meet me for days, and eventually said that she had never dreamed of seeing a Japanese person again after 70 years of time. This made me realise that every time I meet someone I am representing my own country.

This was perhaps one of the important moment in my photography career; being taught that I should face each person with even more care, no matter if I’m doing work or in my daily life.