Photographs from a small group of islands
Japanese electioneering invariably involves little more than repeatedly bellowing the candidate’s name over a loudspeaker and waving meaninglessly from a moving vehicle.
Now, whether a photograph of that process passing by a business offering decidedly adult entertainment euphemistically labelled as a health service says anything about Japanese politics I don’t know, but it definitely feels like it should.
There’s documentation on Tokyo Times of homes, bars and favourite old structures left empty and unceremoniously demolished. Scenes that are difficult to look at sometimes, but ultimately it’s the way Tokyo has, does, and likely always will go about reinventing itself.
Below though is something on a different scale altogether. A truly huge number of houses and buildings that are being torn down to make way for a 50 floor apartment complex. A development that is merely the latest in the area, meaning nearby little streets like this one are more than likely living on borrowed time.
Time for this location, however, has been and gone. Well, gone except for one man who still hangs on in the home he was born in 74 years ago. A last stand that he knows is coming to an end, but until then he continues to water his plants as usual. The simple, mundane sight of which was strangely reassuring as well as terribly sad.
Culturally or otherwise, I’ve never had any kind of association with it, and in my entire life I can probably count on one hand the number of cans or bottles of the stuff I’ve drunk, and yet seeing old Coca-Cola signboards in Tokyo is always a genuine treat.
What specifically it is about about them I don’t really know, but their faded colours and textures are clearly a factor, as is the similarly dated nature of the buildings they are attached to. Then there’s that mix of East and West, plus in some cases at least, the rapidly encroaching modernity of the surroundings. All of which adds up to something really quite special, making them great to stumble upon and occasionally seek out.
Signs of the past that were rather appropriately photographed in places covering the city’s eastern suburbs out to its much more distant far west. Also, the first and last are very recent finds, with the others from years gone by, and apart from the fourth one, they are all happily still standing.
Shinjuku train station is the busiest in the world, and the nightlife spots in the areas surrounding it are similarly crowded. Blaring screens, signs and people everywhere make it as packed with revellers as it is brightly lit, and yet amid all the chaos and noise there are still quiet scenes to be enjoyed. Moments like the ones below that briefly at least defy the surroundings and offer something akin to a sense of calm. All of which were photographed over the last couple of weeks or so. A time when masks were officially deemed unnecessary, and things in Tokyo finally started to feel like they were getting back to normal.
With no calendar present, it’s impossible to know how long this room has been left untouched — even the bed is still made for the customers that never came. Quite possibly in more ways than one, as it has the look of an old love hotel room even though the building it’s attached to was a more conventional type of lodging.
Either way though, the coin-operated TV suggests the last time it was used was a very long time ago. A tiny space that has a silence all its own and colours that defy the decades, or maybe even hark back to them.
