Photography

Earlier this year I added an audio track to some photos of a wonderfully atmospheric old drinking alleyway. It was an experiment that definitely gave the images something extra, so having made a few recordings in Niigata’s unique Tsutsuishi station several years ago, I decided to re-edit the photos I’d taken, narrow down the selection and post them below with sounds that are arguably as distinctive as the station itself.

First built in 1912, it was originally above ground, but that all changed when the station underwent substantial changes in 1969. Now it’s 40 metres below the surface, and the only way to access the 2 platforms is by navigating several damp tunnels and 290 steps. A trek that users of Tsutsuishi have to make without any aid whatsoever, as there are no lifts or escalators. That said, it’s not exactly what you’d call a busy transit hub. Even back in 2004 the average number of daily commuters was only 68, but by 2019 it was down to just 15 hardy souls.

Also, despite it being a hot day when we visited, the tunnels and stark waiting areas were decidedly chilly, so what the temperatures must be like during the region’s long, bitterly cold winters really doesn’t bear thinking about. And if that wasn’t enough, the air pressure created by passing trains can cause hurricane-like winds — hence the austere looking metal doors.

Finally, in regards the audio, the first track is a reminder to help other passengers should there be any problems — something that’s especially important with the station being unmanned. The second clip indicates that a train is leaving, and the last, rather unnerving sounds, are to alert passengers when a train is arriving.

Back in 2015 I wrote about my wife being diagnosed with breast cancer, and then after an operation and extensive treatment, the joy of a clear result. The stress felt prior to subsequent tests, and the relief that followed them, continued for several happy years, but in 2019 the cancer returned. Even worse it was incurable.

Since then there’s been various kinds of treatment to try and contain it, along with the incredible strength, bravery and stoicism shown by Akiko, but the disease has continued to spread. So much so in fact that now all that’s left is time. Time to spend together, and hopefully time that doesn’t involve too much suffering. But it’s a time that’s distressingly limited, with only months rather than years remaining.

With family nearby, the necessary care and the importance of being together will be shared, so there’ll still be days when I get out with the camera for a stroll and a bit of a break. The simple pleasure of wandering about and taking photos has helped enormously up to now, and without a doubt that will continue to be the case. That said, the usual 3 updates a week simply won’t be possible, so from next week, I’ll keep Tokyo Times ticking over with posts every Wednesday, plus some possible extras should I have the opportunity. It’ll provide a welcome diversion more than anything, but also a chance to share what I’ve seen on what’ll be far more sporadic outings.

It sadly goes without saying that since the cancer returned, this truly awful scenario was always the outcome. Preparing for such an eventuality, on the other hand, is utterly impossible. We certainly weren’t prepared for it getting to this stage so quickly either. And that, I think, is all I can write for now. Life can be okay at times, even quite nice on occasions, but my god it can be cruel — horribly cruel beyond all belief.

Not your average mask, and clearly not your average Tokyo salaryman.