Lee

Almost twelve months ago, I posted a series of empty plots where old homes and business had once been. Spaces that despite offering little in the way of hints, still manage to feel strangely evocative of the past. Much more obviously, they also expose walls and sometimes even whole structures that haven’t seen the light of day for decades.

Such changes are a common theme on these pages, along with my photography in general, so a year on from that first set, here’s a follow-up. The photos date from a week or so after that initial post, to some that were taken very recently. None of them offer any real clues of what was, but several do provide far clearer images of what’s to come.

During Japan’s bubble years, golf was the game in regards business and prestige. Deals were done on the course, and club membership was a status symbol — the cost of which could be truly astronomical. Of course at the time it was simply an economic miracle and not a bubble. Then all of a sudden it was a bubble, and the value of club membership collapsed, resulting in many golf clubs going out of business.

Since then the sport has struggled on, but coronavirus has unexpectedly resulted in fresh interest, both on the course and at driving ranges. A shift in attitudes towards leisure time, and golf’s relative safety during a pandemic seemingly the key factors.

That said, it’s still far from cheap, and players need to both book and travel to get a game. Alternatively, an hour or so at the driving range may suit some, but for those looking for a bit of competition and a chance to improve their putting, a day under the motorway might well be the best bet.

Fairly recently, I documented one of Tokyo’s many old and rundown hotels. Like all such properties, they are bookable by anyone, but in reality they mostly cater to the city’s poor who sadly don’t have the means, or indeed the necessary documentation, to get better and considerably more secure accommodation.

The building below is one such place, and it has intrigued me for the longest time due to its truly unique appearance. In winter, it’s possible to see just how worse for wear it really is, but from spring onwards it almost completely disappears beneath the leaves of trees that now seem to be an integral part of the structure.

Whether it was still a functioning business, on the other hand, was always impossible to discern. It remained listed as open with rooms priced at ¥1,700 per night, which is quite a bit cheaper than the area’s going rate of ¥2,200. That said, there has never been any displayed information whatsoever, and apart from someone once going in and out when doing some electrical work, I’d never seen any signs of life beyond the botanical. Then, when recently photographing the freshly grown greenery, I got an answer. It is actually occupied, and by several people at the very least.