Haikyo

Tucked away in the middle of some trees with many of the window shutters sealed tight, this old house had quite the atmosphere. A certain sense of darkness in more ways than one, particularly with large photos and paintings of long dead family members, and possibly former residents, always looking on.

Unusually, the calendars upstairs and downstairs differed considerably, and what was once more than likely a multi-generation household, clearly ended up with just the downstairs rooms being used. Presumably by a lone elderly person. The setup and stuff left behind also suggestive of someone who was quite possibly bedridden, and almost certainly receiving medical care. Factors that could also help explain some of the incredibly dated technology found on the same floor despite the last calendar being from 2015.

All that, however, is speculation and educated guesswork at best. What the true story is, and who those people were, will more than likely remain unknown. The photos below then are mere records of far more important moments now forever lost.

Some of the abandoned homes I’ve photographed over the years have begun the slow process of being taken back by Mother Nature, whereas others are almost beyond belief in their scale and opulence. The house below, on the other hand, felt very different. A lot of it was filled with clutter, but a few rooms gave a real sense of the lives once lived there, such as their interests, and the approximate time period. A weird sense of intimacy that was further added to by the photo albums left behind. Faces that conjure up so many questions, but at the same time offer next to nothing in the way of answers, as despite the words of Karen Carpenter that once echoed throughout the house, it will sadly never be yesterday once more.

The slow, decades-long intrusion of Mother Nature, along with the far more destructive behaviour of human beings, have taken a huge toll on this old and incredibly dated love hotel.

Abandoned for many years, it would have been something special without the wanton vandalism, but unless located in the middle of nowhere, that’s always a big ask. Then again, the damage, along with what remains relatively intact, do give the hotel a truly dystopian look and feel, particularly so given its one-time purpose.

Old homes that nature is rapidly taking back are some of my favourite abandoned buildings to photograph and explore. Along with the beauty of such decay, they are also full of hints about the past and the people who once lived in them.

The large, concrete structure below, on the other hand, is in many ways very different. Condition-wise there’s little wrong with it apart from a bit of damp here and there. Quite a lot of the rooms have been cleared out too, and yet rather weirdly, others remain pretty much untouched. Plus in regards the decor, it’s absolutely nothing like your average Japanese house.

An explanation for the latter is that at least one of the owners was a dentist, meaning their taste may have been debatable, but their wealth most definitely wasn’t. The clinic itself was on the ground floor, but unfortunately the dental chairs have been removed, with anchors in the floor now the only giveaway.

However, despite such differences, the stories, or at least the suggestions of them, are still everywhere — not to mention questions regarding the likes of why the owners left, and why so much remains untouched. None of which I have answers for. The only real detail was a newspaper dated 2008, but that arguably confuses matters rather than clearing anything up.

In some ways such a lack of information is frustrating, but in other ways it’s not. It allows us the chance to imagine and make up our own stories. The possibilities of which are endless. Unlike whatever happened here.