2011.03.11、その日は撮影もなく事務所にいた。突然めまいが襲ってきたのかと思うとそうではなく、地震だった。そしてその後、原発の事故、東京ではガソリン不足、計画停電、今自分は何をしたらよいのかいろいろと考えさせられる日々を送った。阪神淡路大震災のあと報道写真家でもない自分が現地に行って写真を撮っても邪魔になるだけではないか、興味本位で行くことは慎もうと心に決めた。が、今回は違った、とにかく現地に行かなくてはという思いがとても強くわき出した。東京も揺れたこともあるのだろうし、母方が東北の出身で子供の頃何度か訪れたことも関係していたのかもしれない。しかし、闇雲に行く訳にも行かないし、混乱しているであろう現地が多少落ち着くまでは待った。そして四月三十日の夜、千葉工大の石原さん達の視察に同行して現地に向かった。当座の食料なども品不足の現地に迷惑にならないようこちらで買い込んでの出発だった。東北道を降りて山を越えて南三陸町を目指した、海に行き当たったところで被災した現場に出くわすであろうと思っていたのだが、まだ夜も明けていない山間部のような風景を走っていると、突然被災した家が現れた。川をさかのぼった津波は海から離れている川縁の民家に対しても猛威を振るっていた。
僕はライフワークとして、いろいろな都市を大型カメラとモノクロームのフィルムで撮影している。都市という大地に、様々なボリューム感を持ったものが幾重にも存在している。絶えず変化をしているはずなのだが、都市と言う大きな流れの中では全てが飲み込まれていくようにも感じられる。ただ淡々と都市を見つめる。都市の記録は地球の複写でもよい、ある時、撮った写真を並べるとそれが地球になっていたりしたらしめたものだ。
先ほどまでそこで生活をしていたのだろうと思われる様々な日常品が壊された建築資材とともに散乱している姿はとても熟視することはできなかった。少しづつ瓦礫を撤去する自衛隊や警察の方々が、仏像や人形、花瓶などを辻辻においていたのが印象に残った。生活しているお宅の中に入ったのならば広さを感じるであろう家も、残された基礎だけではとても小さく感じた。訪れるごとに瓦礫は少しづつ減っていく、確かに大切な作業なのだが、今までの生活の記憶もともになくなっていくようで少しもの寂しさを感じた。とてもたくさんの思い出が詰まった瓦礫だったのだろう。
今回の南三陸は数ヶ月ぶりでの訪問、三陸鉄道の線路だったところの一部を道路にしてバスが運行をしていたり、盛土が始まったり、少しづつだが変化が見える。いくつかの道は姿をなくし、家やビルの基礎もなくなっていた。今まであった道がなくなると街の区画は思ったよりも小さく見える。もちろん建物があったときはそこはもっと広く感じたことだろう。当然撮影する対象もだんだんとその面積が大きくなってくることが多くなる。
写真はそのとても大切な目的として記録だと思っている。そしてその記録は誰に対してしているのだろうか。漠然と僕の時代とその少し先の時代と思っていたのだが、今回の震災で訪れたこれらの風景を見て思ったのは、百年、何百年先に向けて記録をし続けようと。それこそが記録だと思った。
この先、この町がどう変化していくかずっと見続けていきたい、新たな人々の生活や記憶が詰まった町になるまで。平和に包まれた地方都市、みんなが幸せそうに暮らしていて、さほどの魅力がない田舎町、でもゆっくりとそこをあるけば小さな魅力がたくさんある、そんな退屈な街になるまで撮り続けていく、そしてその記録は、100年、200年、300年先のために残したいと思う。
On March 11, 2011, I was in my office with no shooting assignment. I first thought I was attacked by sudden dizziness, but it was an earthquake, followed by the nuclear power plant accident, gasoline shortage and rolling blackouts in Tokyo. I spent many days wondering what I ought to be doing. When the Great Hanshin-Awaji Earthquake hit, I decided to refrain from going there just out of curiosity because I am not even a photojournalist and I would only be in the way of others if I went there to take pictures. This time, however, was different. I thought I’ve got to be there -- a strong feeling sprung from within. It may have something to do with the fact that the quake also hit Tokyo and also with the fact that I had visited there several times when I was a child because my mother’s side is from Tohoku. That being said, I realized I should not blindly go there, so I waited till things were somewhat settled in the place where I expected to be in chaos. On the night of April 30, I headed over there, joining a group led by Professor Ishihara of the Chiba Institute of Technology. We purchased food for immediate needs so that we would not be a burden there where people were suffering from shortage of goods. We got off the Tohoku Expressway, went over the mountains and headed to Minamisanriku. I figured I would run into devastation when we reached the ocean, but when we were driving through mountainous sceneries that were still waiting for dawn, all of a sudden, devastated houses emerged. The tsunami that climbed up the river went on a rampage on even those houses along the river that were far away from the ocean.
My life’s work is to capture images of various cities with big cameras and monochrome films. Many layers of things with a variety of volumes lie on the good earth called a city. They are supposedly changing constantly but in the big stream called a city, sometimes everything seems to be getting swallowed by it. I just stare at a city, being emotionally intact. A record of a city could be a copy of the earth. It would be just about perfect if I laid my pictures down and together they formed the earth.
There was no way I could gaze daily necessities that tell us people were living right there, just until a while ago, that are scattered all over among broken construction materials. Troops of the Self Defense Forces and policemen who were removing rubble were placing Buddha statues, dolls and vases at crossroads here or there. That image still stands out in my memory. If I walked into one of those houses at the moment when people were still living there, I am sure I would have found it spacious, but when I see just the foundation of it, it seems very small. Every time I visit there, there is less and less rubble. I know that removal of rubble is important work, but I felt somewhat sad because it seemed as though memories of the lives there were also taken away together with it. The rubble there must have been packed with so many memories.
My visit to Minamisanriku this time was the first time in several months. Little by little, changes can be observed: A part of the railway track of the Sanriku Railway has turned into a road where buses are running now and an embankment has started, too. Some roads have disappeared and so did foundations for buildings and houses. Blocks and lots in town seem smaller than before without the streets that used to be there. I bet they looked more spacious when buildings were there. First I watched around my foot.But next stage ,I looked around town,mountain,sea and sky.
I believe that an important purpose of pictures is documenting. But the question is, for whom are we documenting? I used to vaguely think that was for my generation and maybe for some of the generations that followed ours. I realized, however, when I saw these sceneries during my visits after the earthquake disaster, that I should continue documenting for the sake of 100 years or even several hundreds of years from now. I thought that is what documenting is all about.
I want to continue witnessing how this town is going to change in the future, until the time when it becomes a town filled with new lives and memories of the people there. Until the time it becomes a local city embraced by peacefulness, where people live happily. And although it may be a rural town that is seemingly devoid of any charm, if you stroll around, you will find lots of little charms…Until the time it becomes such a prosaic town, I will continue taking pictures so that such records will last for 100, 200 or 300 years from now.