Friends Album By Yasushi Rikitake.54 [2026]

The book also explores how friendship extends beyond the human. There is a tender attentiveness to the non-human world: stray cats, aging trees, weather-beaten buildings. In Rikitake’s eyes, these too are companions—silent witnesses to the slow passage of time. As with many publications from Akio Nagasawa Publishing, the physical design of Friends Album is an integral part of the experience. The book is modest in size—neither a large-format coffee-table tome nor a pocket edition—sitting comfortably in the hands. The matte paper absorbs light rather than reflecting it, enhancing the softness of Rikitake’s photographs. The sequencing is unhurried, each image given room to breathe, with occasional blank pages that function as pauses or exhalations.

The book unfolds like a memory itself: non-linear, impressionistic. One spread shows two figures walking along a rain-slicked path, their backs to us, umbrellas touching like hesitant hands. Another presents a still life—an empty chair by a window, afternoon light pooling on a wooden floor. A cat sleeping on a sun-warmed stone. A half-drunk cup of tea beside a newspaper. Friends Album By Yasushi Rikitake.54

These are not monumental images. They are intimate, almost private. Rikitake captures the poetry of the ordinary: the way friendship reveals itself not in grand gestures, but in comfortable silences, in shared walks, in the unspoken understanding of being together while doing nothing at all. Technically, Friends Album is a masterclass in subdued beauty. Rikitake shoots almost exclusively in black and white, using soft, natural light that seems to emerge from within the frame rather than illuminate it from outside. Grain is present but unobtrusive, lending the images a tactile, almost haptic quality—as if you could reach out and feel the coolness of a winter morning or the warmth of a late-afternoon sunbeam. The book also explores how friendship extends beyond