Since the March 11 earthquake in Eastern Japan, the words of the victims have become like sediment, settling to the bottom of our consciousness. Each day the sediment builds up, reduced to silence. Words – colorless and transparent – are full of extravagant praise, and the self-conscious uneasiness is wiped from memory.
I took photographs around the Dai-ichi Fukushima Nuclear Plant at night from a street. I decided that since the street is a public space that anyone can enter, it is also a place where anyone can be a concerned party. I chose nighttime to capture how the lights lit the scene. The long exposures lend a magical sense to the photographs.
I feigned a colorless and transparent viewpoint as I attempted to capture the self-conscious uneasiness.
Entries form: 35 A2 inkjet prints
Fukushima today is portrayed in this work through long exposures. I might take these to be tranquil, romantic night scenes, but a slight wariness and unease started seeping out in the middle.
This is because I found these night scenes are of an area where people had been forbidden from returning to their homes. Making Fukushima the theme of an art piece is a difficult proposition, as only 10 percent of the original population has moved back, making the nights foreboding. But this work can be viewed with interest from another sense. It captivates in the way old noir films or detective movies do. I found this mature work to depict its subject with polish and forthrightness.
Native of Sendai, Miyagi Prefecture
Graduate of the Photography Course from Nihon University College of Art