Food and Drink

Back in December 2018, I took the bar photos below. An evening that lives long in the memory, as despite having enjoyed beers in many little bars that have barely changed in decades, this one was truly unique.

It had been in business for 40 years, with the 82-year-old mama-san in charge the whole time. A place where she quietly grilled chicken and served cheap drinks to her regular customers. My friend and I, on the other hand, weren’t regulars in any sense of the word, as in those four decades, we were apparently the first western foreigners to set foot inside. Presumably we were the last too, as sometime between April 2021 and February of this year, the bulldozers moved in. The results of which can be seen in the fifth, and very final frame.

This disappearing aspect of old Tokyo, and some of the reasons I attempt to document it, are covered in a video I did a little while ago, so if you’d like to see it, the link is here. Being on that side of the camera is, rather hypocritically it has to be said, a place I’m not especially comfortable, but it is a good way of showing why I seek out and shoot what I do.

Down a narrow, now mostly abandoned old alleyway, this cluttered little bar is a world away from the often touted Japanese traditions of design, subtlety and minimalism. And yet, in its own rough and ready way, it’s arguably just as traditional in regards this less exalted but still important part of everyday culture.

This photo was taken almost exactly 10 years ago to the day. A shot I decided to post as another from the same evening (albeit from a higher vantage point) is in my new photobook, Tokyo Conversations.

The street is still there, and mercifully it hasn’t changed much at all, although the wonderful little seating area with the kettle is sadly no more. The world in general, on the other hand, most certainly has changed, and looking back at this scene, the lack of masks and smartphones in particular make it feel like a very different time indeed.

Last year I posted some photos of old and broken Japanese vending machines. A set of fascinatingly sad metal boxes that I rather ambitiously suggested had their own distinct personalities, or at the very least a sort of quiet dignity all their own.

The more I see, however, and the more that does seem to ring true. There really is something about them. It could be simple nostalgic value, or perhaps it’s because they still stand tall as if ready and willing to serve once again. Whatever it is though, they are always an absolute treat to encounter, and objects I’m more than happy to go well out of my way to photograph.

All that said, some of these newer finds are distinctly more dilapidated than dignified, but I did get to shoot a kind I’ve been hoping to stumble upon for the longest time — the formerly elusive film version. A wonderfully rare blast from the past that compared to some of the others is still in surprisingly good shape.

Due to its colours and fantastically faded old sign, this ramshackle shop has been a favourite of mine for a long time. Trouble is, it had been in the shade each and every time I’d walked by, plus the angle I wanted to photograph it from was always blocked by a parked car. A vehicle (just out of shot on the right) that never, ever seemed to move.

All too aware that the building could be demolished at any time, it seemed like a good idea to head out to it on an overcast day and see if that would work. The car, of course, was still there, but the light was much more manageable, allowing me to get something that seemed half decent.

That said, I still wasn’t sure about the angle, so I let the photo sit for several weeks, and going back to it with a bit more detachment, I now think it works. Maybe even more than the shot I actually wanted.