名前はグレン・デニー。1960年代のカリフォルニア、ヨセミテ渓谷の
若きクライマー達の姿をモノクロフィルムに収めた。
その集大成である写真集『Yosemite In The Sixties』は不朽の一冊だ。
彼は83歳の人生の中で、10日間、日本で過ごした。
その日々を『OFF SEASON』編集長が追憶する。
On October 10, 2022, a legendary photographer passed away.
His name is Glen Denny.
He took black and white photographs of young climbers
in Yosemite Valley in California in the 1960s.
The culmination of his work”Yosemite In The Sixties
“ is a timeless collection of photographs.
He spent ten days in Japan during his 83 years of life.
The editor-in-chief of OFF SEASON recalls those days.
Glen Denny
よく冷えたシャルドネを
佐野崇◎文 Glen Denny◎写真
夏の始まりの一日、僕は京都の路上を歩いていた。スタジオでの取材を終えて、宿に向かっていた。本来ならタクシーに乗るべき距離だろうが、歩きたい気分だった。夕暮れの空気には、季節と季節の間だけに味わえる、やわらかい心地よさがあった。堀川通を北へ向かう。二条城近くの交差点で赤信号を見つめている時、あの写真家と過ごした時間がよぎった。そう、この横断歩道だ。今から8年前、ちょうど同じ季節だった。
グレン・デニーの写真集を目にした時の衝撃は今でもはっきりと覚えている。1960年代、カリフォルニア、ヨセミテ渓谷。クライミングに情熱を燃やす若者達。歯を食いしばり、汗と砂礫にまみれ、岩の隙間に爪を食い込ませ、岩壁にはりつく。標高千何百メートルという生と死が表裏する世界。だが、そこには悲壮感はない。誰かと競い合ったり、何かの記録を打ちたてようとするわけでもない。ただ、頂きを目指す。
当時、ヨセミテはロッククライミングの世界の中心だった。日々、新しい挑戦が、そこにはあった。前人未到の登攀(とうはん)ルートが開拓され、その技術と経験をもとに北米の山々の頂に若者達の手が続々とかけられていった。彼らのベースとなったのが、ヨセミテの「キャンプ4」だ。そこは純粋さと自由に満ちていた。当時、アメリカは第二次世界大戦後の繁栄を謳歌していたが、その黄金期にも翳りがみえていた。世の中の流れを敏感に感じ取っていたのが若者達だった。旧来の価値観やルールに異を唱えるカウンタカルチャーの萌芽、ビートニクの誕生だ。1960年代末、より反体制の純度が増して世界に爆発的に広がったヒッピー・ムーブメントの種子だ。だが、ビート・ジェネレーションは、物質主義の否定という精神は同一ながらも社会から距離を置き、自らが熱狂できることに身を投じることが許された。時代に余裕があったのだ。その象徴ともいえるのが、「キャンプ4」だった。
1958年、グレン・デニーは初めてをヨセミテを訪れた。そこで「エル・キャピタン」(世界最大の花崗岩の一枚岩。標高約1000m)への初登攀を目撃した。双眼鏡をのぞくと小さな人間が壮大な壁に挑んでいた。「私は正しい場所にきたと、すぐに直感した」とデニーは後に語っている。その後、大学を中退して、この「キャンプ4」に飛び込んだ。そして、仲間達が山へかける日々を白黒フィルムに収め続けた。その集大成が2007年、50年近い時を経て出版した写真集『Yosemite In The Sixties』だ。その時、そこにいるから、撮れる写真。仲間だから、撮れる写真。そして、同じ情熱を持っているから、撮れる写真。
この写真集と出合った当時、僕は仲間とともに鎌倉で『OFF SEASON』のギャラリーを運営していた。どうにかして、グレン・デニーの写真を展示できないか。本人にダメもとでコンタクトしたところ、意外にも「OK」の返事をもらえた。そして、パタゴニアの協力により(創業者のイヴォン・シュイナードは『キャンプ4』のクライマー仲間だった)、デニー本人を招いて鎌倉・東京・京都でスライドショーを行うという大きなプロジェクトになった。デニーは初の来日、本人のギャラリートークが聞けるまたとない機会になったのだ。
グレン・デニーを羽田空港のホテルに迎えに行くと、約束の時間のずいぶん前にもかかわらず、ロビーに立っていた。白髪であご髭をたくわえ、細い縁の眼鏡をかけ、その知的で物静かな物腰は、写真家やクライマーというよりもUCLAで哲学でも教えているような知的さを感じさせた。「Glen Denny」という紙を両手に掲げているのが、少々、滑稽だったが、生命を賭けるクライマーとしての慎重さなのかと妙に感心もした。さすがに芯の強さがある巨躯だったが、片足を少しひきずっていた。デニーのキャリアを振り返ると、若くして写真もクライミングもやめて違う道に進んでいる。これが原因なのかもしれないと、思った。
羽田空港から鎌倉まで、1時間半ほどのドライブだが、言葉を交わしたのは片手に満たなかった。長旅で疲れているのか、初めての旅先にナーバスになっているのか、生来寡黙なのか。それとも僕の英会話の能力の乏しさに呆れているのか、いずれにしても車内は沈黙が支配し、この先10日間、デニーとともに旅をすることを想像すると、正直、気が重かった。だが、いざスライドショーの本番になると、自分の作品を解説する言葉は、適切かつていねいで、ギャラリーからの質問に対する答えも、本当に教授が学生に諭すように的確だった。そんなデニーとの距離が縮まったのは、一枚のメモがきっかけだった。
デニーはシャツのポケットに二つ折りのメモ用紙をしのばせていた。日本でやりたいことを書いた、いわゆるウィッシュリストだ。リストの上の方には奥さんのマーガレットおすすめの日本の食、「Kobe Beef」、「Ramen」等が。下にはデニーが京都で訪れたい場所がメモされていた。目を引いたのは「Daitoku-ji」——大徳寺だった。京都でも指折りの古刹ではあるが、金閣寺や清水寺のように人気の観光スポットとはいえない。もしやと思いデニーにたずねた。禅に興味があるのか。答えは「イエス」だった。大徳寺は臨済宗大徳寺派の本山で、一休宗純などを輩出してきた有数な在野の禅寺だ。僕も鎌倉にある同宗の禅寺へ坐禅を組みに通っていたことがある。親子以上の世代が離れバックグラウンドも異なる二人に共通の話題が見つかった。それから酒を酌み交わしながら、親しく話をするようになった。
「白ワインを。よく冷えたシャルドネを」。デニーのお気に入りだ。決まって二人の間にはシャルドネのボトルがあった。スライドショーの暗闇にまぎれてスクリーンの脇に座っているデニーに、カリフォルニア産のシャルドネを一本そっと置いた時の笑顔は、日本で見せた数少ない笑顔の中で最高のものだった。ともかく、ワイングラスを片手に機会があれば禅について話をするようになった。だが、すぐにデニーの知識の深さに驚き、圧倒された。せっかくだから日本人にとって禅とは何か説明しよう、と浅薄に考えていた自分が恥ずかしくて、ただ杯を重ねるしかなかった。
ああ、そうか。デニーがある名前を口にして、すべてがつながった。ゲイリー・スナイダー。ビート・ジェネレーションの申し子ともいうべき詩人だ。『ON THE ROAD(「旅上」)』でビートニクのアイコンとなった作家ジャック・ケルアックの『The Dharma Bums(「ジェフィ・ライダー物語」改題後「禅ヒッピー」)』の登場人物ジェフィのモデルだ。当時、ビート・ムーブメントの中心だったサンフランシスコでは、禅や東洋思想がトレンドだった。その受け皿は、カウンターカルチャーの担い手である若い世代だった。ケルアックは自分でも認めるところだが、禅をある種のファッションとして捉えていた。だが、スナイダーは筋金入りだった。1950年代半ばから10年以上にわたり、その多くの時間を相国寺や大徳寺で禅との対峙に費やした。禅はスナイダーの自然への原点回帰の思いをより強くした(ヨセミテでトレイル・クルーとして働いたこともある)。結果、ビート・ムーブメントは、文明社会の象徴である街の路上から、人の手で荒らされていない山々や森林へと舞台を移していった。ビート・ジェネレーションのクライマー達が、ヨセミテへ磁力に引きつかられるように集まった一因であるだろう。青年期のグレン・デニーもその一人だったのだ。
あれは大徳寺からの帰りだった。そう、この横断歩道だ。デニーと僕は歩道の信号が青に変わるのを待っていた。夕暮れ時、8車線の車道には、それなりにクルマが走っていた。「JAY WALKって知っているか」。突然、デニーが口にした。「えっ」。脈略もなしに、デニーが言葉を発するのは初めてだった。「知らない」と答えると、デニーはそれまでに見せたことがない静かな笑みを浮かべた。「赤信号を無視して、道を渡ることだ」。真意は何だったのだろう。信号を無視して、目前の道路を渡りたいという欲求にかられたのか。自分の半生への何がしらかの思いか。若輩たる僕への教訓か。それとも、念願の大徳寺を訪れた気分の高まりで、禅問答の一つでもしてみたかったのか……。その時の僕は、うなずくしかなかった。
そして、今、同じ交差点を渡ろうとして、あの時の記憶がよみがえった。だが、渡りきっても、やはり答えは見つからなかった。もう一度と振り返ったがやめた。その答えを知っている男はもういないのだから。ただ、思った。グレン・デニーの月命日も近い。あの写真集と向き合って献杯しよう。よく冷えたシャルドネとともに。
さの・たかし
文筆家・編集者。2012年、タブロイドマガジン『OFF SEASON』を創刊。現在、ウェブ版『OFF SEASON』の編集しながら、雑誌、ウェブコンテンツを中心に活動する
Glen Denny
Can I have a well-chilled Chardonnay?
Text: Takashi Sano Photos: Glen Denny
On a day at the beginning of summer, I was walking on the streets of Kyoto. I had just finished an interview at the studio. I was on my way to the hotel. Since it was a little far from it, taking a taxi could be an option. But I was in the mood to walk that day. There was a soft comfort in the evening air between seasons. I was heading north on Horikawa-dori Street. As I stared at the red light at the intersection near Nijo-jo Castle, I remembered the days I had spent with that photographer by chance. Yes, this was the sidewalk. It was exactly the same season eight years ago.
I still clearly remember the impact I felt when I saw Glen Denny's photo book: Yosemite Valley, California, 1960s. Young people with a passion for climbing. Covered with sweat, sand, and gravel, they clung to the rock wall. They gritted their teeth and clawed into the crevices of the rock. At an altitude of several hundred meters, life and death are two sides of the same coin. But there was nothing tragic about that. They were not competing with anyone or trying to set any records. They were only aiming for the top.
In those days, Yosemite was the center of the rock-climbing world. Every day there were new challenges. Young people with the skills and experiences explored unprecedented routes. They tried to climb to the tops of North American mountains one after another. Their base camp was Camp 4 in Yosemite, a place of purity and freedom. The United States was enjoying its post-World War II prosperity then, but even that golden age was fading. Young people were keenly aware of the trends in the world. It was the birth of Beatniks, a budding counterculture that challenged the old values and rules. It was a seed of the hippie movement that exploded all over the world at the end of the 1960s with a more anti-establishment purity. However, the Beat Generation, while maintaining the same spirit of rejecting materialism, was allowed to distance itself from society and throw itself into what it could be enthusiastic about. There was plenty of room in the times. The symbol of this was Camp 4.
In 1958, Glen Denny visited Yosemite for the first time. He witnessed the first ascent to El Capitan (the world's largest granite monolith, about 1,000 meters high). He looked through his binoculars and saw a little human being tackling the magnificent wall. He later said, "I had an immediate hunch that I had come to the right place." He then dropped out of college and jumped into this Camp 4. He continued to capture in black-and-white photography the days his friends spent in the mountains. The culmination of these efforts was published in 2007, nearly 50 years later, in a book titled “Yosemite In The Sixties”. He could take these photographs since he was there at that moment, he was one of the buddies, and he shared the same passion.
When I came across this photo book, I was running the OFF SEASON Gallery in Kamakura with my buddies. I was wondering if somehow, we could have a photo exhibit of Glen Denny. I contacted him directly without any expectations. Surprisingly, he replied that he was willing to do it! Then, with the cooperation of Patagonia, it became a big project to invite Glen Denny himself to hold slide shows in Kamakura, Tokyo, and Kyoto. (The founder of Patagonia, Yvon Chouinard, was a rock-climbing buddy of Camp 4) It was his first visit to Japan. It was a golden opportunity to hear him give a gallery talk.
When I picked up Glen at his hotel at Haneda Airport, he was standing in the lobby long before the appointed time. With his gray hair, beard, and thin-rimmed eyeglasses, his intellectual and quiet demeanor seemed more like he was teaching philosophy at UCLA than a photographer or climber. It was a little funny to see him holding up a piece of paper with the words "Glen Denny" in both hands, but I was also strangely impressed with his discretion as a climber who was risking his life. He was a man of great frame with guts. He was limping a little on one leg. Looking back on his career, he quit photography and climbing at a young age and went down a different path. I wondered if this might be the reason.
It was an hour-and-a-half drive from Haneda Airport to Kamakura, but we exchanged less than five sentences. Was he tired from a long trip? Was he nervous about his first trip to Japan? Was he naturally reticent? Or was he disappointed with my poor English? In any case, silence prevailed in the car, and I had to admit that it was a bit daunting to imagine traveling with him for the next ten days. However, when it came time for the slide show, his explanations of his work were appropriate and precise, and his answers to questions from the visitors were also as precise as a professor's admonition to his students. It was a single note that brought me closer to Glen.
He had a folded piece of notepaper in his shirt pocket. It was a wish list of things he wanted to do in Japan. At the top of the list were his wife Margaret's recommendations for Japanese food, such as Kobe Beef and Ramen. At the bottom of the list were the places he would like to visit in Kyoto. The one that caught my eye was Daitoku-ji Temple. Daitoku-ji Temple is one of the oldest temples in Kyoto, but it is not a popular tourist spot like Kinkaku-ji Temple or Kiyomizu-Dera Temple. I asked him if he was interested in Zen. The answer was “Yes.” Daitoku-ji Temple is the head temple of the Daitoku-ji School of the Rinzai sect of Zen Buddhism and is one of the most famous Zen temples in Japan, having produced such famous Zen masters as Ikkyu Sojun. I once went to a Zen temple of the same sect in Kamakura for zazen meditation. Two people from different generations, more than parents and children, and different background found common ground. We began to talk intimately over drinks.
"Can I have some white wine? A well-chilled Chardonnay." It was his favorite. There was always a bottle of Chardonnay between us. When I gently placed a bottle of California Chardonnay next to Glenn, who was sitting by the screen in the darkness of the slide show, he showed me the best smile among the few smiles I've ever seen in Japan. Anyway, we began to talk about Zen whenever we had the chance with some glasses of wine. But I was soon surprised and overwhelmed by the depth of his knowledge about Zen. I was embarrassed that I thought I could explain to him what Zen meant to the Japanese. All I could do was keep on drinking wine.
Oh, yeah. Gary Snyder. When Glen mentioned his name, everything turned out to be connected. Gary Snyder was a poet, who could be the product of the Beat Generation. He was the model for the character Jeffie in The Dharma Bums written by Jack Kerouac, who became a beatnik icon with On the Road. In those days, Zen and Eastern thought were trending in San Francisco, the center of the Beat movement. The takers were the younger generation, the supporters of the counterculture. Kerouac recognized himself that he grasped Zen as a kind of fashion. Gary Snyder, however, was hardcore. From the mid-1950s, for more than a decade, he spent much of his time confronting Zen at Shokoku-ji Temple and Daitoku-ji Temple. Zen reinforced his desire of going back to the starting point in nature (he had worked as a trail crew member in Yosemite). As a result, the Beat movement moved from the streets of the city, the symbol of civilized society, to the mountains and forests undisturbed by human hands. It was probably one of the reasons why the Beat Generation climbers were magnetically drawn to Yosemite. As a young man, Glen Denny was one of them.
That was on the way back from Daitoku-ji Temple. Yes, this was the crosswalk. Glen and I were waiting for the light on the sidewalk to turn green. It was dusk. There were a good number of cars on the eight-lane roadway. "Do you know JAY WALK?" Suddenly, he asked me. What? It was the first time he had spoken without any context. "I don't know," I replied, and he smiled a quiet smile he had never shown before. "It means to ignore a red light and cross the street." What did he want to tell me? Was it just the desire to cross the road, ignoring the traffic lights? Was it some reflection on his own life? Was it a lesson to me, a young and inexperienced person? Or was it the heightened feeling of having visited Daitoku-ji Temple, which he had longed to see? And did he want to ask me one of his Zen questions? All I could do at that time was nod.
As I was about to cross the same intersection, the memory of that time was back. When I crossed the street, I still could not find the answer. I looked back one more time, but I gave up. The man who knew the answer was gone. The monthly anniversary of his death is coming up. I shall raise a glass of wine to the memory of the late Glen Denny as I look at that photo book again. A glass of well-chilled Chardonnay.
Profile: Takashi Sano
He launched the tabloid magazine OFF SEASON in 2012. He currently edits the web edition of OFF SEASON while focusing on magazines and web content.