In the sphere of art, noise is a "force." Far from being merely a flaw to be corrected, it is a creative element that draws fresh perspectives and emotions from the observer. When an artist chooses to embrace noise intentionally, it adds depth and resonance to the work, a swirling, singular energy all its own.
Claude Monet (1840–1926), famed as an Impressionist painter, often used blurred, indistinct strokes to capture the ever-changing play of light and colour. This hazy, vibrant touch, much like noise, lends a dynamic impression to the canvas, reaching beyond it to convey the atmosphere. Here, noise becomes essential in the "transmission of emotion"—a quality indispensable to art.

Another prime example of noise-strengthening emotional context is the work of Jean-Michel Basquiat (1960–1988). His method of combining poetry, sketches, and paintings creates a world of chaotic layering, blending text and image, abstraction and figurative, carrying critiques of society and culture through visual noise. Basquiat’s mastery over the layered structure of noise provides the viewer with fresh angles and provokes an emotional reaction.

In the photographic medium, however, noise is frequently met with disdain. With digital technology’s leaps and bounds in recent years, resolution is pursued with vigour, and noise is often dismissed as a fault. Yet, I view this as a rather surface-level perspective.

When creating my work, I first scout the area, observe the city’s lights, carefully map out a flight course, and pre-visualise the final image. Yet, I’m fully aware things rarely unfold as planned. At 5,000 feet—my usual field of operation—attempting to capture the scene precisely as pre-envisioned is entirely nonsensical. Constant turbulence disrupts all the strategies one devised on the ground, and then there is the curvature of the lens and Earth itself. An endless contest emerges between the speed of the setting sun and adjustments to the aperture. Only by allowing for the resulting dissonance and noise can something beyond the original concept come to life.

Embracing the unexpected chance brought by noise, I hone the work through the viewfinder. It’s a power that transforms a negative into a positive, conjuring the unexpected. For photography—a medium that fixes fleeting instants—these relentless intrusions become a “moment of divine favour,” drawing one towards unseen visual experiences.

This, I am certain, is the essence of pure, unadulterated photography.

Michael Hitoshi