ON MEETING THE 100% PERFECT GIRL
四月のある晴れた朝、原宿の裏通りで僕は100パーセントの女の子とすれ違う。 たいして綺麗な女の子ではない。素敵な服を着ているわけでもない。髪の後ろの方には寝ぐせがついたままだし、歳だっておそらくもう三十に近いはずだ。しかし五十メートルも先から僕にはちゃ んとわかっていた。彼女は僕にとっての100パーセントの女の子なのだ。彼女の姿を目にした瞬間から僕の胸は不規則に震え、口の中は 砂漠みたいにカラカラに乾いてしまう。
One beautiful April morning, on a narrow side street in Tokyo’s fashionable Harujuku neighbourhood, I walked past the 100% perfect girl.
Tell you the truth, she’s not that good-looking. She doesn’t stand out in any way. Her clothes are nothing special. The back of her hair is still bent out of shape from sleep. She isn’t young, either – must be near thirty, not even close to a “girl,” properly speaking. But still, I know from fifty yards away: She’s the 100% perfect girl for me. The moment I see her, there’s a rumbling in my chest, and my mouth is as dry as a desert.
The artist combs through the urban jungle in the wake of Baudelaire’s dandified «flaneur». With a candid camera, he records particularities and curious discoveries, and emerges among the multitude, simultaneously trying to be a part of it. Weiss persistently asks the vital question, what it means that a person, object or building can stand out from an overpowering crowd. For him, it is the continuous fascination to unhinge and isolate someone or something from the crowd—an obscure wave or movement, endlessly volatile—with the purpose of recording it photographically. On his forays, he considers himself a touristy paparazzi which documents snap-shots of the events with his camera. As a voyeur, he constantly conquers images. He considers himself almost criminal because he collects «intimacy», and feels safe in the crowd. Weiss appropriates the picture language of fashion and publicity; he idealises beauty and exalts it to inaccessibility.
In the truest sense of the word «inconceivable», the dimension of Tokyo, with all its facets and contrariness, lets Weiss follow Haruki Murakami’s traces to look for the «100% perfect girl». Snapshots, surprises, mixed with all kinds of contingencies, show a diverse image of women from the metropolis: on one hand, celebrated tradition, on the other, cyberspace allures of maybe fallen angels.