Wednesday, 10 October 2012
Portfolio: East & West Traveller
A little while back I had a few travel images from around Asia published in East & West Traveller Magazine. Many thanks to David Buglar for supporting my work.
Showing posts with label Japan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Japan. Show all posts
Tuesday, 1 May 2012
Things I Ate Recently
Not including any people that are in these photos. Amongst them - bun cha rieu (thanks to Mark at StickyRice for the virtual heads-up), california rolls, sashimi, and crumbed pork with leek. Xin moi. Itadaki mas.
Tuesday, 3 January 2012
Go Go Japan
On one of the last weekends of 2011 some Japanese bands came to town. Thanks to Dan for asking me to crawl around the stage and pit, and thanks to him, Steve and Giles from CAMA for putting on another great night of live music. Including...
Electric Eel Shock:
Electric Eel Shock:
Monday, 26 September 2011
Japan, Finally
Tuesday, 6 September 2011
Reflections: Tokyo, Japan
On March the 11th of this year, in the middle of the afternoon, an earthquake measuring 9.0 on the Richter Scale struck off the east coast of Japan. It was one of the five most powerful earthquakes ever to occur globally since record-keeping began at the beginning of the last century. Such was its force, it is estimated to have shifted the Earth by up to ten inches on its axis. The resulting tsunamis pulverised the coastline, sweeping away entire towns and killing nearly 16,000 people; almost 5,000 are still missing. Further down the coast, in Fukushima, a tsunami knocked out the generators of the Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear Power Plant, and the reactors overheated, releasing radioactive material into the surrounding air and water.
Like many, I watched with horror as the tsunamis ate their way across the coastal plains, and then with disbelief as TEPCO tried to prevent nuclear meltdown with hoses and buckets of water dropped from helicopters. I saw the pictures of lines of people queueing for food in Tokyo, the empty supermarket shelves and blackouts. I read about the radiation found in vegetables, in Tokyo's drinking water. Friends of mine living in central areas of Honshu travelled southeast to escape any potential nuclear fallout, and some were even evacuated from Japan and returned to Europe by the military.
I had bought a ticket to travel to Japan six months earlier but despite the risk, or lack of risk depending on who you believed, there was no way, barring a full-scale nuclear disaster, that I wasn't going to use it. So at the beginning of April, in a virtually empty plane, I landed in Tokyo for the first time.
Having never been there before I can't say that the city had changed, but there was a pretty subdued atmosphere. Many foreigners had left and no-one was sure if they would return. There were still regular aftershocks, some of which hit during the day, some of which shook you awake at night. In fact, it wasn't even certain that these were aftershocks. There was talk of a new faultline, of a massive earthquake soon to come, closer to or even directly under Tokyo. The radiation leaking from the nuclear power plant 230 kilometres from the capital hadn't yet been brought under control and total meltdown was still a possibility. But for every person who would tell you that the government was concealing the truth and that worse was to come, another would say that the news coverage was hysterical and that nothing was as bad as it seemed. In these strange and uncertain circumstances it seemed that the city and its population were tensed, crouched and waiting. That the buildings and the ground they're built upon were insubstantial, ephemeral. Yet also at this time, blanketing and gradually weaving its threads into the pervading tension was a hushed sense of peace, of a slowly restored calm. Spring had arrived. And the flowers of that Japanese symbol of hope and renewal, the sakura, were blooming on the trees - unfolding their petals and opening themselves once more to Tokyo's quiet, trembling air.
Like many, I watched with horror as the tsunamis ate their way across the coastal plains, and then with disbelief as TEPCO tried to prevent nuclear meltdown with hoses and buckets of water dropped from helicopters. I saw the pictures of lines of people queueing for food in Tokyo, the empty supermarket shelves and blackouts. I read about the radiation found in vegetables, in Tokyo's drinking water. Friends of mine living in central areas of Honshu travelled southeast to escape any potential nuclear fallout, and some were even evacuated from Japan and returned to Europe by the military.
I had bought a ticket to travel to Japan six months earlier but despite the risk, or lack of risk depending on who you believed, there was no way, barring a full-scale nuclear disaster, that I wasn't going to use it. So at the beginning of April, in a virtually empty plane, I landed in Tokyo for the first time.
Having never been there before I can't say that the city had changed, but there was a pretty subdued atmosphere. Many foreigners had left and no-one was sure if they would return. There were still regular aftershocks, some of which hit during the day, some of which shook you awake at night. In fact, it wasn't even certain that these were aftershocks. There was talk of a new faultline, of a massive earthquake soon to come, closer to or even directly under Tokyo. The radiation leaking from the nuclear power plant 230 kilometres from the capital hadn't yet been brought under control and total meltdown was still a possibility. But for every person who would tell you that the government was concealing the truth and that worse was to come, another would say that the news coverage was hysterical and that nothing was as bad as it seemed. In these strange and uncertain circumstances it seemed that the city and its population were tensed, crouched and waiting. That the buildings and the ground they're built upon were insubstantial, ephemeral. Yet also at this time, blanketing and gradually weaving its threads into the pervading tension was a hushed sense of peace, of a slowly restored calm. Spring had arrived. And the flowers of that Japanese symbol of hope and renewal, the sakura, were blooming on the trees - unfolding their petals and opening themselves once more to Tokyo's quiet, trembling air.
Wednesday, 17 August 2011
Sea, Saws, Swords, Sashimi
Walking around the massive Tsukiji Fish Market in the south-east corner of Tokyo it's hard to believe there's anything at all left in the ocean. Men heave huge frozen tuna onto wooden benches, saw them up, thaw them out and carve them into pieces with swords. Everywhere there are polystyrene boxes spilling over with slippery tentacles and glassy-eyed fish. You need to be alert to avoid being mown down by the small trucks whizzing around the paths, and also be aware that, generally speaking, the fishermen are tired of tourists, so ask permission and don't get in their way - they have swords. At the back of the market there are a couple of alleys of small restaurants where you can eat sashimi and sushi from the morning's catch: reward for resisting the temptation to sink your teeth into one of those succulent fish as you slithered your way through the market.
Saturday, 30 July 2011
Slow Japan - Part Eight
I was only in Kyoto for a night, but it was enough to fall in love with its mix of the traditional and the modern, the beautiful and the seedy. Zen rock gardens, temples and, of course, the old teahouse-lined pleasure district of Gion where you can come face to face with ancient Japan. To which I say - "Great! Really 'sugoi' and just the sort of thing I want to see."
But then I also feel like I should say this:
But then I also feel like I should say this:
This picture both is and isn't of Kyoto's Golden Temple. Well, really it is.
Saturday, 16 July 2011
Slow Japan - Part Six
Suzaka nestles in the Kiso Mountains a short train ride from Nagano. I worked in an apple orchard and it felt good to work outside in the fresh air, with good company and surrounded by snowy peaks. Each day at midday a loudspeaker bleeped lunchtime and later on, in the afternoon, a male voice floated slowly over the fields saying something, I don't know what. Both these sounds went bouncing through the clear air, echoing down the valley and I wish I'd had something to record them with; though the noises had officious roots they were calming and strangely beautiful. Anyway, I have no idea why I'm writing this as clearly there's no way to photograph such things. But what I could photograph was part of a wooden bridge in the sakura-splattered surrounds of Garyu Park.
Sunday, 3 July 2011
A Ghost in the Machine
Consisting of memories and an eerie red and blue-rimmed light which is creeping into some of my shots. Either that or it's the foam inside wiping its fingers over the film again. Actually I don't mind, yet.
Wednesday, 29 June 2011
Slow Japan - Part Five
From Zenkoji temple in Nagano; built in the 7th Century and location of the Key to Paradise (if you can find it).
Tuesday, 28 June 2011
Slow Japan - Part Four
I zipped across to Kobe from Osaka on an afternoon visit; not even long enough to swallow a slice of famed, tender beef, though adequate time to have a look around the harbour and find this funky little girl looking at a mechanical installation in a dockside shopping centre.
Thursday, 23 June 2011
Slow Japan - Part Three
Osaka is done and this is a shot of the clock atop Tstutenkaku. My friends Shin and Satomi took me there to get some panoramas of the city. The reflections from the glass were messing with my world so Satomi convinced one of the guys who worked in the tower to take us outside; normally this isn't allowed at night so it was a privilege to walk around the perimeter with the city lights spread out below us.
Monday, 6 June 2011
Slow Japan - Part Two
And just to show that I'm the boss of me, that is, the employee of the boss who is myself, I'm going to immediately break that rule and put up this photo from Osaka even though I'm a mere third of the way through the folder. A radical move and one which could end up with me firing me if I'm not careful. Anyway, I saw, remembered, processed and liked this quizzical, pixelated business pixie.
I took so many photos during my month in Japan that I fear I may never finish processing them. So, both to goad myself on and as a small form of celebration I'm going to post one photo from each area I went to (which may or may not make my final travel gallery) once I've completed each folder. First then, a wee detail from the Contemporary Art Museum in Kanazawa.
Tuesday, 24 May 2011
Guilty Until Proven Innocent
I took a ton of medium format colour film with me to Japan recently to use with my Holga and returned with almost all of it unused. Each time I put a film into it and take some shots, I'd find the camera later on had shrugged its back casing off, which I assumed would expose the film and destroy the photos. So I punished the machine, stuffed it in the bottom of my bag and took no more pictures with it save for during a night out in Tokyo. Yesterday, I was pleasantly surprised to get the first two films back from the shop to find that all of the photos had come out. Due to my Holga's incarceration, most of the pictures are of sakura and from the same place, but that's ok. I've had a nice surprise and have a pile of unused film which I think gives me one more reason amongst plenty of others to go back to Japan.
Saturday, 19 February 2011
A Tale Of Two Men / Four Portraits
Not a tale exactly, or at all. More like pictures. First up is Mr Takeji Yoshikawa, Director of the Japan Foundation in Hanoi, owner of 'the hottest office in the world', and speaker of Vietnamese and Chinese. He kindly allowed me to have a look around the foundation's library and agreed to tell me a Japanese joke while I was photographing him. Arigato!
Recently I've been visiting places to do with all things Japanese in the city for The Word Hanoi; a supermarket, several restaurants and the Japanese Foundation.
