Gianluca Mortarotti is a London-based self-taught photographer from Italy known for his compelling street photography. In his work, he experiments with visual techniques weaving together abstraction and storytelling.
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With his photography, he attempts to capture life in the streets and the connections between people that can seem strange and unusual. He explores these themes without turning down the intriguing presentation of street scenes or the visual appearance of images. His persona behind the camera brings out his life philosophy of looking for the exceptional in the ordinary and makes it visible through a consistent aesthetic that is both narrative and metaphorical in its meaning.

Did the title "Japan Meltdown"Â come to you before capturing the photographs, or did it emerge organically from the images you created?
'Organically' is a good way to describe how I arrived at this title. It began rather spontaneously when a friend mentioned a phenomenon occurring in Shibuya, a part of the city where countless people-mostly youngsters or office workers-spend their nights drinking their soul out of themselves, often to the point of passing out in the streets. These scenes are chronicled by photographer Pawel Jaszczuk in his book "High Fashion" also on a page called 'Shibuya Meltdown.'
Seeing it firsthand intrigued me and sparked my curiosity about the broader context. I wanted to piece together the stressor: Why does this happen? What drives these individuals to such extremes? From there, I began observing the rhythms of daily life-how people commute, the hours they work, their eating habits, the density of the urban environment, their levels of social interaction, and spoke with some local people. After a few days in Tokyo, I told my friend, 'This isn't just Shibuya-it feels more like a total Japan Meltdown.' The intro of the book delves into these observations while also reflecting on how the reality I've seen diverged from my initial expectations. Interestingly, I hadn't set out for Japan with the intention of creating a book. I rarely do this when I travel. Instead, this project cropped up naturally from my desire to share this narrative from my perspective.Â
What were the biggest challenges you faced in portraying the invisible or subtle elements of societal tension within Japanese urban life?
For the way I approach photography, the greatest challenge when traveling is always getting in tune with the place I'm visiting. Japan presented a reality entirely new to me in so many ways that it took several days to fully sync in and understand what I wanted to capture. Immersing myself in the environment, understanding their culture, and respecting their deep sense of politeness were crucial steps in this process. Portraying the invisible or subtle elements of societal tension required a balance of observation and intuition.
"It wasn't just about photographing what was visible; it was about sensing the rhythms of life, the unspoken rules, and the contrasts between tradition and modernity."
For example, I noticed how individuals adhered to routines with impressive precision but it seemed to carry an air of fatigue beneath the surface. Capturing these nuances meant looking beyond the obvious and paying attention to the small, everyday moments-the hectic commutes, the solitary meals, the silence in crowded spaces. Another challenge was ensuring that my perspective did not come across as judgmental or overly influenced by my own cultural expectations. I aimed to tell a story that was both personal and respectful, allowing the details of Japanese urban life to speak for themselves. In the end, it was about patience-taking the time to observe, listen, and let the city reveal its layers.Â


How has working on this project shaped your perception of Japan? Have you noticed any similarities between the societal themes in Japan and those in other cultures?
Japan undoubtedly has a unique and deeply rooted identity. Its strong connection to tradition makes it almost easier for a foreign eye, especially one unfamiliar with Eastern cultures, to notice and appreciate its distinctive character. Initially, I was struck by the hyper-efficient image of Japanese society, but that perception was quickly challenged as I observed the immense effort-and at times, almost a sacrifice-that people invest to maintain this efficiency. It felt almost paradoxical: the seamless functionality of the society came at a significant personal cost. This realization really shaped how I viewed Japan. I became interested in capturing this aspect of Japanese life because it stands in absolute contrast to anything I've experienced in Western cultures. The level of dedication, discipline, and endurance displayed in everyday life is remarkable, yet it also highlights a certain tension—an underlying burnout that's not immediately visible but becomes apparent when you look closely.
In exploring these themes, I also began to notice parallels with other societies. For instance, the pressure to conform and the pursuit of productivity are not unique to Japan. Many modern cultures share similar tensions, though they manifest differently depending on the cultural context. This project has reminded me that while societies may have distinct identities, they also share universal challenges, such as balancing tradition with modernity, individuality with collective expectations, and efficiency with personal well-being.

Candid photography plays a central role in your work. How did you approach capturing these hidden layers of urban life while respecting the privacy of your subjects?
I always approach street photography with the mindset that I am being gifted something freely. The fragments of life you observe in the streets are so unique and genuine that they inspire a deep appreciation for the beauty of fleeting moments. To capture them effectively, you need to be a keen observer without being overly eager or intrusive. In Japan, the biggest challenge was avoiding distraction from the overwhelming sensory stimuli-the dazzling lights, the entertainment, the arcades, and the constant busyness. These distractions, I realized, exist for a reason. They seem to pull people in, almost as if offering an escape. By standing just behind that metaphorical line, I could glimpse how this system operates. It was fascinating, and I often wished I had more time to delve deeper into it.Â
The cultural barrier added another layer of complexity. Communication was challenging, and as a foreigner, I often felt seen and treated differently than locals. This sense of separation made it difficult to get close to their culture, so my approach remained reserved. Rather than trying to break through the barrier, I embraced my role as an outsider, observing respectfully and keeping my distance. I spent time exploring "off-track" areas and focusing on the subtle, often hidden, signs of societal tension. These could be found in quiet moments-the way someone carried themselves, the spaces they occupied, or even the fleeting interactions between strangers. By being patient and attentive, I aimed to capture these layers whenever they revealed themselves,creating a narrative that was both authentic and respectful of the privacy and dignity of my subjects.Â
Given the cultural emphasis on privacy in Japan, how difficult was it to photograph people on the streets? Were there moments when you worried about offending or intruding on the people you captured?
The thing about photographing people in Japan is that they tend to be more polite than concerned about privacy. That said, respect is absolutely a must. I always strive to avoid being intrusive-I don't like to flash people in the eyes or draw attention to myself. My goal is to remain as invisible as possible. Initially, I felt that most people weren't particularly bothered by me taking photos. However, over time, I came to realize that their calm often resulted from their politeness rather than genuine comfort. There were moments when I noticed subtle reactions though, like a piercing stare after I had taken a shot, but they would rarely confront me directly.
On one occasion, during my second visit to Tokyo after completing Japan Meltdown Vol. 1, I experienced the opposite extreme. A woman called the police because she believed I was photographing people in the street, and she strongly disapproved. It was a stressful moment. Thankfully, I was aware of my rights as a street photographer and calmly explained that I wasn't doing anything unlawful. Until eventually she would slap my camera. Then I said, ok let's call the police. When the police arrived, they checked my photos and quickly realized the woman's accusations were unfounded-she appeared to be quite agitated and unreliable. Though I was relieved to be cleared, the episode put me off for the rest of the day. Experiences like this are part of the risk that comes with street photography, especially in unfamiliar cultural contexts.Â
Are there recurring motifs or visual metaphors in your images that reflect the concept of a societal or personal "meltdown"?
Yes, there are several recurring motifs and visual metaphors in my images that reflect the concept of a societal or personal 'meltdown.' One of the techniques I used was intentional movement, such as slight camera shakes or longer exposures, to create a sense of disorientation or instability. The idea behind this approach was to mirror the internal chaos or exhaustion that often goes unnoticed beneath the surface of such a highly structured society. And also to freeze the frantic dynamics that permeates everything.
Stylistically, I made deliberate choices to enhance the themes I wanted to emphasise. For example, I often kept subjects anonymous by either obscuring their faces, capturing them from behind, or through a reflection. This anonymity invites viewers to project their own emotions onto the subject and underscores the universality of the struggles depicted. Another technique I employed was isolating individuals from the crowd. By framing solitary figures within a bustling urban environment, it is easier to highlight feelings of detachment and alienation, creating a more intimate connection between the observer and the subject.
However, the project wasn't only focused on people. I also turned my lens toward urban spaces and architecture. I studied architecture so I'm always fascinated in exploring its role in shaping how society unfolds around it. The built environment in Japan-its dense cityscapes, rigid layouts, and contrasting areas of activity and quiet -acts as both a backdrop and an active participant in the narrative. By photographing these immense buildings, repetitive structures, or the interplay of light and shadow on architecture, I tried to illustrate how these physical elements influence and reflect societal behavior.
A lot of the tension between the individual and the collective is amplified by these spaces, where the scale and complexity of the urban space impose itself over people. It's a weird mix where conformity and isolation coexist. Last but not least, a strong aesthetic decision I made was to shoot in black and white, despite Japan is famously known vibrant palette of neon lights and colorful visuals. This choice was driven by a desire to strip away distractions and focus on the essence of the scene. Black and white photography is extremely democratic in that all scenes undergo a similar analysis as they are deprived of distractions. It's a fact that it helps abstracting reality, and I like that it allows the viewer to dive deeper into the emotional dynamics of the image.
Did any specific moments or personal experiences during your time in Japan inspire or influence the direction of this project?
To be honest, it was a wave of emotions that inspired me to think about creating something from my time in Japan. Initially, the cultural shock was overwhelming and difficult to process. It took a few days to look beyond all the nostalgic familiarities like videogames, cartoons, stereotypes and begin to see the other side of the coin -the underlying dynamics of the society around me. The realization of the tension within Japanese society ultimately set the tone for my work during the rest of my stay.
Certain moments left a profound impact on me: witnessing the solitude of a drunk man passed out on the street, seeing an elderly woman playing slot machines for hours, or observing people eating in restaurants where orders are placed through vending machines and people sit separated from one another by individual partitions. These experiences sparked my interest in visually exploring the tension between chaos and solitude, which became a central theme of the project.
And then there was the Tokyo metro. The metro was the ultimate embodiment of this contrast. If you want to experience the true intensity of Tokyo, take a ride on the metro. It's a chaotic, bustling world where order and structure somehow coexist with the frenetic pace of daily life. Those metro journeys reinforced this sense of paradox, capturing the relentless energy of the city while highlighting the isolation of each individual.Â

We’ve seen many photographers choose to self-publish their photo books rather than work with publishing companies. Why do you think this trend is growing? What do you see as the advantages and disadvantages of self-publishing?
My personal experience with publishing companies is that they are often either not interested in your work or fully booked for the year. This is especially true if you're an emerging photographer with a small media presence and limited connections in the photography world. It can be incredibly challenging to get noticed. That said, I don't think it's unfair-it's part of the process. Everyone should work their way up to achieve big goals and learn not to take opportunities for granted. It's about taking the right steps and doing things that allow your skills to grow and evolve. In this sense, I've found self-publishing to be one of the best exercises for personal and creative development. The amount of creative thinking required throughout the process is immense, from sequencing the images and designing the book layout to building a cohesive narrative, working with printers, managing the commercial aspects, and making decisions about paper types, finishes, and more. It's almost a shame to have limited input on these aspects when working with a traditional publisher.Â
While being published with a reputable editor can significantly boost the number of copies sold and potentially increase the price point, what I love most about self- publishing is the freedom it offers. It allows you to make your work more accessible to a wider audience and, most importantly, ensures that the final product remains your creation-your craft. If you're willing to dedicate the time and effort, self-publishing is absolutely worth it. It doesn't have to result in a masterpiece -even creating a small zine or a modest book can unlock an incredible amount of creative potential. In my opinion the process itself is invaluable for growth, both as a photographer and as a storyteller.
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