The first photobook in five years by Hanayo, who was living in Berlin at the time of publication. Selected from a vast number of everyday snapshots, the pictures sometimes make it unclear when or where they were taken: a damaged camera, soft focus, shifted colours, and the accidents are kept as they are, so that beneath a daydream-like surface lies a pure intensity of image. Hanayo has been travelling between Tokyo and Berlin for the past ten years, and the photographs in Magma were shot in both places. Her photographs value a clarity of feeling rather than technique: in one a young child runs around a room with a box over his or her head, and even though the photograph is blurred we can make a good guess about why it is important enough to publish. The light in her photographs sometimes overpowers or distorts her images, but she is able to use this distortion as an atmospheric effect that heightens the emotional power of what she shows. Certain people appear throughout the book and, while their relations are not always entirely clear, her young daughter seems to be the focal point, appearing in a number of photographs and on the cover as well. This human connection keeps the book grounded as it sometimes approaches the abstract. Magma is sometimes vague, but there are enough casually observed moments of beauty here to satisfy anyone.