The camera on a tripod outside Edward Levinson's countryside home in Chiba Prefecture is deceptive in its simplicity. It has no lens or viewfinder, no focusing dial, and no shutter-release button.
"It's just an empty box," explains Levinson, sliding out the back and turning it upside down to prove it.
With that he straps a Polaroid film holder across the opened back and points the camera toward his 70-year-old home. There is, I remind him, no lens. At this he smiles and points to a piece of black tape stuck on the front, under which, he says, is a pinhole.