Urakami

I often see documentary images that capture wars in far off places, poverty and slavery, and innumerable social and political issues that exist in the world. Whilst I can easily see the skill in the photography, and understand the time and potential danger that went in to capturing the images, I often feel distanced from them. There is a sense of disconnect because the scenarios and places depicted are so far removed from the personal experiences I have had. I know that these countries exist, and I know that these problems are important, but it is hard to feel as though I am anything but an outsider looking in on a picture book of issues that don’t affect my life. It’s not to say that I don’t feel concern for the issues or the people facing these hardships, it’s more that I find it hard to relate to them on a personal note.

BUT, when I saw this one series, Urakami, by photographer Guillaume Herbaut, I stopped scrolling and just looked. And looked. The series is a visual discourse centred around the A-bomb dropped on Nagasaki, Japan, in 1945, and the horrific aftermath of that one moment. Although I am not Japanese, and don’t personally know anyone who was directly affected by this event, I have lived in Japan and visited Hiroshima many times (although not Nagasaki, they are both connected, for obvious reasons.) Every time I visit the Peace Park and A-Bomb dome in Hiroshima, I feel overcome with this strange emotion. It’s hard to describe but it is a weird kind of feeling that is similar to grief. I don’t know why I feel this way, because as I mentioned, I am not directly connected to the events of WWII. But looking at Herbaut’s images arouses a similar feeling in my chest. I’m not sure why, but they are captivating and moving, quiet but powerful. They invite the viewer to reflect, with an overtone that is solemn and strong. I think they are both beautiful and gripping.

Herbaut, G, Urakami, photographic series, viewed 28 July 2020, <http://www.guillaume-herbaut.com/en/57-2-urakami/>