Food and Drink

Last week I wrote about the ‘before’ photos below and how, over time, they became much more than I ever imagined. Poignant vignettes of lives lived and structures now long gone in a forever changing city.

That state of flux Tokyo constantly seems to be in, along with a generation of people and buildings approaching their end, means there will be more photos to come, but for now at least these (along with those previously posted) are some of what I have at present. Little moments that offer a brief glimpse of lost lives in a very large metropolis.

The vast majority of the ‘before’ photos in this series were taken for no other reason than I found the scene interesting. Over the years, however, they unexpectedly became something more as death or demolition changed what I first saw forever. Outcomes that didn’t cross my mind when I initially pressed the shutter, but needless to say they do now. Tokyo changes fast, and time, for better or worse, simply can’t be held back. Elements that make the photographs far more poignant than I could have ever imagined.

That said, I don’t really know what to do with them. A book at some point would be lovely, but at the same time I’m not sure the images alone say enough without written backstories. A magazine or newspaper article would perhaps work better in that sense, but then the necessary pitches involved in that process are an increasingly thankless task, so we shall see. There’s no particular rush anyway.

The one thing I do know is that there will almost certainly be many more photos to come. A generation of buildings and their inhabitants is sadly coming to an end, so the documentation of them will definitely continue.

For now though, here (and next week in part 2) is a selection of what I have already. Small vignettes of Tokyo life that are gone, but at the same time aren’t completely forgotten.

Traditional shotengai (shopping streets) are everywhere in Tokyo. Areas both big and small that are always interesting due to their independent little stores and eateries. For me personally, however, it’s the older and decidedly rundown ones that are the most appealing, and due to the people in particular, they are places well worth regular re-visits. An approach that allows for a more accurate and thorough document of both the streets and their structures.

That desire to return again and again was something I felt keenly when in Osaka recently, as the dated shotengai there are truly fascinating. Long, criss-crossing and mostly covered streets that while similar to those in the capital, also feel quite different. Routes that I walked back and forth for days. A period of time that was both fulfilling and, it has to be said, slightly frustrating, as the more I saw, the more I wanted to return. Unfortunately that won’t be anytime soon, so until I do, here is a small taste of what I witnessed.

There’s invariably a lot of coverage detailing Japan’s cutting edge technology and Tokyo’s futuristic looks, but an awful lot of that modernity is little more than a thin veneer over what is in many ways a dated and ageing society. That said, it is changing — at least appearance wise anyway, with a lot of history being unceremoniously erased. And yet so much remains. Little vignettes of the past that still sit firmly in the present. These old shops then are examples of that. All of which were photographed during the last month in Osaka, Hyogo and Tokyo.

Japan has plenty of old and dated coffee shops. Establishments that look and feel like they belong in a completely different era. At the same time, it’s a spell that can easily be broken by a TV playing in the corner, or even something minor like a modern appliance or menu.

This almost 80 year old establishment, on the other hand, has no such distractions. Everything from the dust and grime to the ageing proprietor takes you back to an earlier time. A business that has been in the owner’s family since its inception, and with coffee only costing ¥160 a cup, it’s very clearly love rather than money that keeps him going. For how much longer it’s impossible to say, but until the day it finally closes, it’ll remain a place that is truly like no other.