A Day to Remember. Hiroshima.

Hiroshima Atomic Dome

Every year, on this day, August 6th, newspapers and media outlets write a piece on Hiroshima. On the first Atomic Bomb used outside of testing. On the first Atomic Bomb used on civilians. On the first Atomic Bomb that killed upwards of 100,000 people in matters of seconds and minutes. On the first Atomic Bomb that was followed by the first ever second Atomic Bomb to be used outside of testing. On the first second Atomic Bomb that killed nearly as many people. On the first Atomic Bomb to be dropped on Nagasaki, only 3 days later, on August 9th.

It is a day to Remember. A span of 3 days that must be remembered.

It is now 74 years since that happened, but the memory of it is still very much alive. Maybe it’s because the vividness of a memory is directly proportional to its gravity, to its magnitude.

74 years on and I Discover through Photography. I learn that Wayne Miller, a late Magnum photographer was in Hiroshima a month after the dropping of the “Little Boy“; the friendly name given to the Atomic bomb used in Hiroshima. “Fat Man” was used on Nagasaki.

Here are a few of Miller’s photos.

Hiroshima. September 8, 1945. Victim of atomic bomb blast in Hiroshima lies in a makeshift hospital in the bank building of Kango Ginku. Photo by Wayne Miller. Caption by Magnum.com
Hiroshima. September 8, 1945. Destruction caused by the atomic bomb blast. Photo by Wayne Miller, Caption by Magnum.com
Hiroshima. September 8, 1945. Victims of the atomic blast in Hiroshima find refuge in a makeshift hospital in the bank building of Kango Ginku. Photo by Wayne Miller, Caption by Magnum.com
Hiroshima. September 8, 1945. Victims of the atomic blast in Hiroshima find refuge in aa makeshift hospital in the bank building of Kango Ginku. Photo by Wayne Miller, Caption by Magnum.com
Hiroshima. September 8, 1945. Victims of the atomic blast are treated in primitive conditions at the fly-infested Kangyo Ginko bank. Many suffered from radiation burns and shock. Photo by Wayne Miller, Caption by Magnum.com

A few things strike me when viewing the photos above. The first is that they are all square format, which have always been popular even before Instagram. Secondly, the strong contrast between lights and darks. I feel it’s synonymous with the blast. A ubiquitous beam of incandescent light followed by darkness. The light and dark tension creates forms and shapes within the photos that make the viewers both focus and jump around.

The viewer will focus on the lightest part of the image. Therefore anything that is dark, almost black, just pushes the eyes away. The light pulls, the dark pushes. This makes it an easier photo to look at, although the subject is everything but easy. Also, this strong contrast gives way to strong lines, defined contours, which hold the pieces together. Like a block puzzle.

To help me write this post I’m listening to music that quite frankly, I’m not a fan of. It is a simple traditional folk instrumental playlist found on Youtube. If you’re in the mood for something a little different why not try it.

But the music does help me travel back to that day. Those 24 hours. I also feel like remembering. Some of the best 24 hours of my life. Hard to say those words with everything I just wrote above, I know. But the Memory is there, the Respect is also there, and yes, we had a great time.

The Crew is back.

It’s 73 years later. August 25, 2018 we leave Kyoto and head to Hiroshima. We are scheduled to stay there for one night. Guesthouse Santiago, with two separate rooms, both with bunk beds, shared bathrooms, and a common area where we kick off the night with a couple of beers and cigarettes.

The sun is setting. The Japanese architecture captures my eye. Blocks, window slits, orange on blue colors.

My wife and the guy that booked this guesthouse start looking for a place to eat on their phones. They locate the Izakaya. We move.

We show up and the waiter, host, all around entertainer, tells us they are full. We don’t give up. We use Google Translate to tell him that we really want to try that restaurant. Or something like that. He takes us upstairs. Surprise. It’ s a pub. There is no one there aside from the barman. He tells us to wait here. He’ll come back when a table frees up downstairs. We’re in the money. 4 beers. We drink them. He comes back up and tells us to go down.

The communication continues.

We choose a table.

At that point we tell our host, which then became two hosts, to do as they see fit. They are given carte-blanche. I’m smiling just remembering what happened that night in that small, tiny, Izakaya.

The beers were flowing, the sake as well. Filled to the rim and with a little overflow, caught by a cube cup holder. Genius.

The food is also trickling in. As we had experienced thus far, perfectly presented that just by looking at it one of the senses was already appeased. At that point engaging your taste buds was a mere addition to the experience. Sublime.

The night moves on. Swiftly. We drink, eat, laugh, smoke, repeat, repeat repeat. A couple of hours in and we become the hit of the night. Not one person speaks English but we all communicate. We all sit together around our small table of four. Our co-host shows us pink bunnies and baseball on his phone. Who knows what we were talking about.

Other guests are at our table feeding us.

And here he is. The man of the hour. The man who made this night unforgettable; with the aid of his friendly aid. The Bandana Brothers.

The night ends with them bringing us some rice and curry to help soak up the alcohol. We walk 5 minutes back to the guesthouse and crash.

I remember it. The emotions make me remember it. The photos help to spark up the emotions. They are the catalyst. They are the dark emotions in Wayne Miller’s case. They are in the light ones in my case.

The next morning we wake up. We aren’t feeling all that fresh, as you can imagine. We’re in for a rude awakening.

Hiroshima, Japan. Aug 2018

We grab breakfast and head to see the Genbaku Dome, or Atomic Bomb Dome. The Ōta River brings us there. We are waking up a lot quicker than any other morning with a hangover.

The closer we get the more the memory becomes alive. The memory of the countless hours on History books at school.

The Atomic Bomb Dome, Hiroshima, Japan. Aug 2018

As we continue to walk around we encounter a volunteer, a person that shares his story. He was an in utero survivor of the Atomic bomb. He had a booklet with much of the info you can probably find elsewhere online. Just that now you had context. You could imagine what it meant for an Atomic bomb to be dropped there. You could visualize the photos of the pre-destruction juxtaposed to the ones after.

The Atomic Dome. Hiroshima, Japan. Aug 2018.

As we cross the Aioi Bridge we head to Hiroshima Peace Memorial Park. We ring the Peace Bell. We walk through the park and arrive at the Memorial Cenotaph and the Hiroshima Pond of Peace.

The Memorial Cenotaph and the Hiroshima Pond of Peace. Hiroshima, Japan. Aug 2018

We visit the Hiroshima National Peace Memorial Hall for the Atomic Bomb Victims and read some of the people’s stories. Then move on to the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum.

An interactive display of Atomic Bomb being dropped and exploding just above Hiroshima. Chilling. Hiroshima, Japan. Aug 2018.
A tricycle. Hiroshima, Japan. Aug 2018.
The watch that stopped at 8:15, the time when the Atomic Bomb was dropped. Hiroshima, Japan. Aug 2018.
The caption reads:
Human shadow etched in stone. 260m from the Hypocenter. Photo by Yuichiro Sasaki.
A person sitting on the steps of the bank waiting for it to open was exposed to the flash from the atomic bomb explosion. Receiving the ray directly, the victim must have died on the spot from massive burns. The surface of the surrounding stone steps was turned whitish by the intense heat ray [continues below]

[Continued caption] … Several bereaved families have suggested that one of their family members may have created the shadow.

Hiroshima, Japan. Aug 2018.

Time’s almost over. We have to get back to the guest house, retrieve our bagpacks, grab a bus, head to the train station and jump on the bullet train back to Tokyo. We walked through the city, through light and shadow.

Black and white, light and shadow may be mutually exclusive but they do coexist. The dark may push your attention to the light, like in Miller’s photos above, or my street scene above. Contrarily, a light memory like ours pushed us to appreciate the more somber one that would have come about just the next morning. The memory of such a horrific day can coexist with the memory of laughter, friendship, and Google translate.

Might there be tension between them? Yes, but simply acknowledging both sides can give balance. To a photo. To memory.

 

Until Next Time,

 

Gio

 

P.S. Guess who went to Los Alamos to see where the Atomic Bomb was designed and tested? We’ll talk about that in another post.

Los Alamos, New Mexico.. Apr 2019

Heavy Heart. Part 2.

It is a new Memorial. To the best of my knowledge, it is also a first of its kind in the US. Usually, here in the States, we are accustomed to seeing heroic statues, placards, flags flying high, license plates with the word “Veteran” written on them. And in general, aside from a single footballer, everyone stands up while the National Anthem plays.

In general, I have to admit, I like this patriotism. Unfortunately, one too many times, I’ve seen it consume people rather than it be healthfully consumed. Let me put it this way, being patriotic doesn’t automatically mean that all other countries are crap.

Continue reading “Heavy Heart. Part 2.”

A Day with Professional Architecture Photographer Roberto Conte

The light outside is just too bright. But it’s still early enough in the morning that I have a vague feeling of what it is like when that damn coffee shop that I love writing from opens up. Some Spotify playlist is going on in the background. Up comes “I Fall Apart” by Post Malone which is probably perfect for this post. Detroit. To many it might have fallen apart. But not quite yet. Continue reading “A Day with Professional Architecture Photographer Roberto Conte”

Memorial Trip and Washington DC

There’s something about sunrise which is always opportunity-filled. When sunset hits, you think of what you left behind, another day is gone. Sunrises are filled with surprise. The day is ahead. There is opportunity. Something is coming.

It’s 5:40 am, everyone else is still asleep in the cabin which some friend, my wife and I rented for Memorial Day weekend. We came to Frankfort, Michigan on Crystal Lake. And this is what my iPhone says it looks like right now. Continue reading “Memorial Trip and Washington DC”

Frank Lloyd Wright in the Midwest – Part 1

It probably started in December of 2016. No wait. Most probably many years before that. When I wanted to become an architect. When I bought a few architecture books at the bookstore. When the ‘bookstore’ was still a thing.

You sit down on those teal velvet armchairs or brown leather couches and start flipping the pages. The architecture is in front of you. You can touch the pages, usually thick, heavy, with perfectly exposed photos. You focus on some of the details, the commas of architecture, be it the windows, the window sills, or just the orange flower arrangement in front of a blue wall. Continue reading “Frank Lloyd Wright in the Midwest – Part 1”

A Pond Hockey Weekend

The entire stadium sings along. “Born and raised in South Detroit…” as they walk down the steps, no matter if they are satisfied with a win or disappointed by a loss.

Every time Journey’s song, ‘Don’t Stop Believing‘ comes on I sing along as if I was walking down the Joe Louis’ steps. I can’t associate the song to anything else now. Only to Detroit, Motown, and yes, Hockeytown.

Continue reading “A Pond Hockey Weekend”

Is it Super?

“What music would you like to listen to? Here’s the phone, you choose.” Car is clean, there’s no waiting outside in the snow, or rain, or blistering cold. We jump in for the 20 minute ride from Lake Whitmore to Ann Arbor, just a little outside of Detroit. I chose The Animals, for this post, not when I was in the car. My hockey teammates chose the music that time. Continue reading “Is it Super?”

K9

How is it that the Blues Brothers’ soundtrack continues to evoke such emotion after almost 40 years?  Like a Youtube user, Ramblingamblinwillie, wrote “A band powerful enough to turn goat piss into gasoline”. Hilarious. Truth.

Jim Belushi and Dan Aykroyd running away from the police as the timeless music plays in the background. Continue reading “K9”