Yoshishige Abe, film collector
October 12, 2005
February 9th, 2005 saw the death of legendary film collector Yoshishige Abe, and Mainichi Newpaper reported the news in a big article (”Will “Arirang” be discovered? The collector in Higashi Osaka passed away”). We deeply mourn the death of this man who loved films and was said to have devoted his life to saving them. There are a lot of mysteries about his collection, such as where and what exactly the films are. Although FPS members had been in contact with him and were trying hard to get information, from now on everything will be cleared up by full-scale research led by the Agency of Cultural Affairs and National Film Center, Tokyo.
About Mr. Abe
The legendary collector Yoshishige Abe died on 9th February, 2005, at the age of 81. According to Mainichi Newpaper issued on 11th February, 2005, Abe had been in hospital for a long time and passed away there.
The legendary collector Yoshishige Abe died on 9th February, 2005, at the age of 81. According to Mainichi Newpaper issued on 11th February, 2005, Abe had been in hospital for a long time and passed away there. In the article, the main focus is on the Korean film “Arirang” (1926) out of his collection, but the reason why he has become a “legend” among film fans was as much to do with the rumour that he stored copies of almost all the Japanese films which were believed to have been lost forever. There is no definite data about the survival rate of Japanese silent films but it’s said to be less than 10%, which means, throughout the 100-year history of Japanese film, the films we can actually see now are just a small part of the whole. However, of the 90% of lost films, Abe claimed to have almost everything. Abe cast a “great shadow”, single-handedly filling in the huge blank part of our film history.
This “shadow” was too huge for what he was saying to be believed. People say that you cannot accept a fact, even if it’s the truth, when you face up to something way too big. Besides, Abe rarely tried to show his films to others. People who knew him through the rumours were expecting his films to be open to the public, but at the same time, they thought that it was all probably a lie or a big illusion.
In the Fall of 2002, I visited Abe at his house in Higashi Osaka with a video camera, to try to uncover the truth. He was living with his wife in a shabby looking house surrounded by trees. The collection, was stacked all over, from the garden to the entrance of the house; not films but things like electrical devices and miscellaneous antiques etc., and I had to go through the narrow gap between them to get into the house, where I saw the legendary collector in his kimono, smiling and welcoming me. I was invited into a room six tatami mats large, but except for one tatami’s worth of space, his things were stacked from floor to ceiling. The room behind was for the Daimyo Clock collection, and he said there were more rooms but I couldn’t see them at all, because of the incredible amount of his stuff. Every room except for the one I was in seemed to be filled to overflowing with his collection. It had reached the limit, Abe said. He was in trouble but with a very happy face.
I looked around the house but couldn’t find any stack of films. As motion picture films easily deteriorate, they were stored in a climate controlled vault, he explained. He had however one reel of 16mm film, which was the only part of the “Abe Film Collection” I have seen. Instead, he showed me the very thick catalogue of his film collection. Anyone who visited him could have got this far. Just like everyone else probably was, I felt shocked and stunned by it, almost as if the world was flipped over. In the catalogue, there were pages of, no, actually files full of the names of outstanding works which were believed to have been long lost. In addition, he said some of the collection were original camera negatives(!). Of course I found the name “Arirang” in it. Not necessarily the whole world, but the whole film world would be lost for words in the face of his collection. I was excited and said, “it’s going to be incredible news if these can all be shown to the public”. Abe smiled and said spitefully, “I’ll tell you one good thing, “A big story is a fib”".
In the end I couldn’t find out if he was a real “legendary collector” or just a legend. We exchanged letters a few times after that, and I visited his place again, but ended up not seeing him since then. I cannot help regretting this. The last letter I sent him was about the setting up of FPS, but I’m not sure if he read it or not. I only knew him as a gentleman with a dry sense of humour, but some people say he was a cold-blooded businessman type and some say he had something to do with the dark side of Japanese society. In any case, I wanted to know him better as he was a man with quite a distinguished character, including a lot of contradictions and mysteries.
The article in Mainichi Newspaper says his huge collections (including his collections other than films? I don’t know) are, in the absence of any heirs, going to be stored in the state coffers, and with regard to the films, National Film Center, Tokyo is going to take on the research. This mammoth project, 50,000 reels, 120 tons of films (if they really appear), would shine a light on the darkness of our film history, and take more than ten years; including restoration and preservation work, maybe more than 10 years. If possible, FPS would gladly be involved in it.
Lastly, there is our rule that, “We never collect or possess any films at all, except for the films we temporarily have for research and preservation purposes”. This is because we clearly separate our role from that of a collector or archive, and also it’s a reflection of our idea that film is not a personal matter but a public matter: films should be shared in society at large. In that sense, it looks like our idea and that of a film collector such as Abe’s contradict each other, but actually they do not. Our idea is based on the definition of film as culture, and film as cultural heritage, but people like Abe were keeping films which used to be considered little more than a fairground side-show. Regardless of the ignorance of society, he quietly spent his money without hesitation long before such an idea existed. I have nothing but admiration for the tremendous volunteer work done by collectors and I don’t want their efforts to be in vain, as we, I mean society as a whole, have to preserve films. Abe will be watching with spiteful eyes to see if our activities are genuine or fake, I believe. Even so, “A big story is a fib”. He will laugh at me if I’m such a big-mouth. For a start, I shall take on whatever small jobs I can do, and try my best for film preservation. (Takeo Nagano)
Does the “Abe Film Collection” really exist? FPS will update the mystery of Abe from here on.
Additional Note 2005.9.18
Evening edition of Asahi Newspaper dated 2005.09.08 showed the article entitiled “In a secret film collection, what’s inside?”, which is an interim report by National FIlm Center, Tokyo. According to it, “the whole contents will not be reveiled until a few years later”, but “at the moment, it seems not to be as great as the rumors suggested”. The content is “mainly documentaries” and it is hardly expected that long-lost films such as “Arirang” would be discovered, in senior curator Akira Tochigi’s opinion. However, as long as “it cannot be denied that there might be films stored in places other than his house”, the possiblity of future discoveris will not be 0%. At least, this mystery of Abe was the subject of newspaper articles, the importance of film preservation reached the public through the media. Even if “the big story was a fib”, Abe caused a stir in film preservation. We continue looking for the follow-up story with keen interest.
