The photography zine exploring female sexuality in Japan’s mysterious love hotels

In contemporary art and visual culture, Japan is so more than a geographical location. For decades, it has captivated minds as a place where the particularities of today’s world come to the surface. In her new zine Room 207, artist Ekaterina Bazhenova-Yamasaki takes on the parts of Japanese culture that are simultaneously closed off from the outsider as much as they are heavily stereotyped in a Western context: sexuality, femininity and love hotels.

Based in LA, Ekaterina Bazhenova-Yamasaki has spent the last 10 years in London, but her work has had a long-lasting connection with Japan. She first travelled to the country in 2011 and has been coming back two-three times a year to spend time not only in Tokyo, but also in rural areas and remote islands, like Yakushima and Naoshima. During her last visit to Tokyo in January, she embarked on an immersive exploration of the topics she’s long been passionate about: the female body and sexuality, and the position of women in Japanese society. Her interest was driven by the history of Asian femininity in cinema, and the social restrictions and preconceptions attached to such portrayals, which she felt were similar to the ones in her native Russia.

“You might think that Japan is a very open country when it comes to sexuality, but actually there are still a lot of rules  with regard to women in the public space: the dress code, the attitude, the particular tone of voice when a woman speaks to a man,” Ekaterina says. “But you also have places like love hotels, and using them is not considered dirty or bad. To me, love hotels are total escapism, it’s like a fantasy, a game and total happiness. It gets you two hours of not being in reality, almost like the virtual reality I guess.”

For Room 207, Ekaterina photographed women she didn’t know and met through Instagram. The love hotel interiors — anonymous, generic or sometimes garish — became the setting where they established a special IRL connection. “Working on the project, I quickly discovered that I wasn’t that interested in nudity. What fascinated me was the girls and why would they do this — agree to be photographed nude by a stranger, especially in Japan,” explains Ekaterina. “You might think they’d be more nervous about the whole process but actually I was as well. They were strangers to me and we didn’t speak the same language, and quite often we had to communicate through Google Translate. It’s fun when you see that there is no fear, nothing to be confused about — but you still have to get to this point, because in the beginning, everything is awkward.”

Room 207 offers a unique perspective on Tokyo, and of intimacy in the urban space in general. “I wanted to create a feeling of living an urban life, and use surroundings which could be Tokyo or London or LA. I used the symbolism and everyday images in combination with nudity to make the story deeper,” remarks Ekaterina.

Room 207 is only one part of Ekaterina’s research into Japanese femininity. The second is a video which documents the traditional female warrior rituals — still practised at school today — that establish women as protectors. Somehow, even in Room 207, one could trace the same sense of self-possession, nudity and gesture as a kind of armour. It says a lot about Japanese culture — but it also relates to many others. “I’ve done a lot of work which concerns the female body,” Ekaterina admits. “It’s my battlefield with myself, and as it’s connected with personal experience, I feel like I can’t cheat there at all.” From examining Room 207, it becomes apparent that it is an effort to capture the multiplicity of female experience and sexuality. As Ekaterina says herself, “To me, the female body is endless, it’s like the universe, or maybe even bigger.”

“The video and sound is an extension of the printed zine, which was a result of the collaboration between Anya Kuts and Ekaterina Bazhenova-Yamasaki.
Kuts composed and performed live an interpretation of Room # 207’s concept in a form of sound.”

“Room 207” is published by Las Injurias and available here. A special artist’s edition could be purchased form Ekaterina directly.