Lee

Nov 16 2021 10 Comments

The abandoned stations of a disused Japanese train line

Some of these photos first appeared on Tokyo Times just over half a decade ago, but after recently returning to them, doing some re-edits, and putting the full set together, it seemed like a good idea to once again go back to that sunny day in 2016. It also felt like a decent time to display the full colours of a Hokkaido summer before the winter snow soon sets in.

Completed in 1936, the Esashi train line ran for a scenic 42kms. Stretching from coast to coast, it served small, inland villages, offering a service that for many must have once been nothing short of essential. Times change, however, and the combination of motorisation, better roads and a decreasing population, gradually left the route with an ever-dwindling number of passengers — a situation that meant by 2011, there were only 6 daily services. While presumably still relied upon by some, in strictly financial terms, it simply wasn’t viable anymore, and so on May 11th 2014, the last ever trains trundled along the tracks.

Fast-forward a little over 2 years after closure, and that’s when the photographs below were taken — the order they are in being their order along the line. Most of the track was still in place, and more importantly, so were a few of the unique and wonderfully quaint little stations. Several of them had already been destroyed or repurposed, and down to nothing but sheer good fortune, a demolition crew arrived at the shed-like waiting room in shots 8 and 9 just as we had finished photographing it. A decidedly ominous sign that the rest of the structures would slowly but surely suffer the same fate, and having not been back since, I can only assume that they have. These images then are a personal reminder of a lovely day in the sun, and somewhat unexpectedly, a document of what very likely doesn’t exist anymore.

Nov 12 2021 9 Comments

A Tokyo story we will likely never ever know

We all contain stories and painful feelings that only those close to us will ever know. Even then it likely won’t be everything. Then there’s the person sat opposite on the train perhaps, or maybe someone at work — there’s always so much that we are utterly unaware of. Very often there’s little or no hint either, as publicly at least, the vast majority of us tend to keep a good deal inside. The lady below, however, seemed different. It was her expression that initially caught my eye, but then I saw what she was carrying. Something she held so carefully and so close. A very visible story, and yet even then it’s one we will almost certainly never know. Instead, it’s one we can only speculate on, and at the same time hope that despite it all she’s doing okay.

Nov 09 2021 19 Comments

Old school Japanese restaurants documented over the years

On the whole, I’ve always found bars more interesting to shoot in than restaurants. In most cases it tends to be quite a bit easier too. There’s the atmosphere for starters, plus the simple act of spending longer in a place makes it possible to feel fully at home. Being a very visible foreigner, and a far from common type of customer, it gives everyone else the chance to get similarly comfortable as well, meaning there’s generally little or no concern when the camera does eventually come out. Staying for an extended period of time also offers more in the way of conversation, and the opportunity, on some occasions, to hear about the sometimes very long lives of those behind the bar.

Of course none of that means old school restaurants don’t have any charm, because they most certainly do — they are just a bit harder for me to photograph in that’s all. Now and again though I do manage to get a few shots away, and below is a selection of those efforts from over the years. Several of them have appeared on Tokyo Times before, but these are re-edits, and location-wise they are a mix of Tokyo and beyond. I should also add that some of them are long gone, but thankfully a good few are still serving up the same delicious food with no changes to the dishes or decor whatsoever.

Nov 05 2021 8 Comments

A terrifically askew row of old Tokyo houses

This compact row of old Tokyo houses stops me in my tracks every time I see it, and while far more ramshackle and on a much smaller scale, it somehow always reminds me of Edward Hopper’s Early Sunday Morning. With that in mind, my hope has always been to capture a lone, suitably Hopper-like figure looking out of a window. Frustratingly that still hasn’t happened, but a resident stood in her doorway staring down the street will definitely do for now.

Nov 02 2021 16 Comments

The silent homes of a long-abandoned Japanese village

Over the last year or so I’ve posted a few sets of photographs from long-abandoned Japanese mountain villages. There was this incredibly photogenic little hamlet, and then more recently, the time capsule-like quality of a settlement tucked away in the trees.

The gathering of houses below, however, is a bit different. Or at least a bit different in the sense that I’ve visited it a couple times, and after recently finding a forgotten photo of a photo from when the village was still occupied, it seemed like a good idea to go back through my shots, do some re-edits, and then put them all together in a single series. A step back in time that was triggered by a much longer look into the past, and as such, I’ve included that old, undated image to round out the set, which sort of brings it all back full circle.

For a bit of background information, the village’s former residents were all hired by the forestry department, and considering the time and location, they would have lived quite isolated lives, with even basics such as food and fuel supplies requiring forward planning. An unusual existence compared to what most people are used to, and unlike their city dwelling compatriots, bears rather crowds or crime would have been a key concern. Day-to-day life that must have been as idilic as it was difficult, yet whatever the small community of workers made of it, human habitation came to an abrupt end in the late 1980s, when presumably due to a lack of employment, everyone simply packed up a few possessions and made their way down the mountain.

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