
東日本大震災から11年。
犠牲になられた多くの方々の魂が天国で穏やかでありますようお祈りします。 - Team Shiromasa
>311 東日本大震災 – 津波 写真家・久山城正が遺した風景
>311 東日本大震災 写真家・久山城正が遺した風景 Facebook
Photographer
東日本大震災から11年。
犠牲になられた多くの方々の魂が天国で穏やかでありますようお祈りします。 - Team Shiromasa
>311 東日本大震災 – 津波 写真家・久山城正が遺した風景
>311 東日本大震災 写真家・久山城正が遺した風景 Facebook
Photographed on 6/23/2011
We left Sendai airport behind us and drove south along the coast. The terrain around us was almost entirely flat. The car navigation system told us we were driving through residential areas and agricultural fields, but all we could see through the windshield was emptiness and desolation. “I’ve had enough of this,” Kuyama suddenly said. It was a line we often used to tease our young editor when we had lost enthusiasm for a project. But this time I think he said it in an attempt to escape the horrible sense that our emotions were being numbed by the horrors constantly unfolding all around us, and as an excuse for driving through these devastated areas without even stopping. Then suddenly he shouted, “Stop!” He leaped out of the car and ran toward a small fishing harbor a short distance away where he stood taking photos and looking out at the tranquil sea just beyond his lens. When he finally returned to the car, he had a look of disbelief on his face. “Is this really the same sea the tsunami came from?”
Written by Tetsuya Hirose
仙台空港を後にして南下すれば海岸沿いにはほぼ平な地形が続く。カーナビにはそこが住宅地だったり畑だったりという表示が出るもののフロントガラスに広がる風景はただの原っぱである。「飽きてきたなぁ」というのは、興味が薄れてきたとき僕らが若い編集者を虐めるときの口癖だったが、そのときは、この360度に広がり果てることのない惨状に自分たちの感覚がマヒしはじめたことの苦しさから逃れるための、そうすることで被災地のひとつを通り過ぎてしまうこと言い訳するための吐露だったような気がする。それでも突然「止めて!」と車から飛び降りて小さな漁港へと向かってはレンズの先の静かな海を見ながらシャッターを押し続けていた。やがて車に帰ってきた久山は「この海はほんとうに津波のあった海と同じなんかなかぁ?」と釈然としない顔をしていた。
ライター / 廣瀬達也
Photographed on 4/19/2011
Everything in the disaster area was covered in mud, so that it was extremely rare to encounter any patches of bright color—although there were occasional glimpses here and there if you went looking. This lack of color was as striking as the scale of the damage itself. Kuyama was photographing the wreckage when he suddenly turned toward me and shouted these words. Down where we were standing, close to a pathway that led up to a temple on a small hill, everything was covered in rubble. Even the trees that lined the slope had been damaged by the waves. But when we lifted our gaze to the temple itself, we found the area aflame with the beautiful pink of cherry blossoms. This harbinger of spring reminded us that the world was still a colorful place after all and even brought us a moment of happiness.
Written by Tetsuya Hirose
探せばなくはないが、それでもすべてが泥にまみれた被災地にあって鮮やかな色と出会うことはほとんどなかった。それは被害が大きいほどに顕著だった。そんなとき被災地の惨状を撮影していた久山がふと振り返るなり叫んだのがこの言葉である。小高い場所に建つお寺の昇り口付近には瓦礫に覆われていたし斜面の木々も潮の影響を受けていた。それでもお寺のある付近にまで視線をあげれば美しいピンクの桜が一面を染め上げていた。たったそれだけのことで世界がカラフルなことを思い出させてくれたし僕らまでが嬉しくなってしまった春の始まりのとき
ライター / 廣瀬達也
Photographed on 6/22/2011
Continuing along a “road” made up of huge numbers of metal sheets spread out alongside the Kitakami River, we eventually reached a place where the bridge across the big river was down and we could go no further. The place was crowded with police, Self-Defense Force and fire department vehicles, and taxis carrying reporters. It turned out we were not far from the Ōkawa Elementary School, where so many children had perished that day. It was one of the places I returned to every time I visited Tōhoku to join my hands in prayer. For a while there were no restrictions in place and it was possible to enter the building. The school stands as if surrounded by the mountains and the embankment along the river. We could only imagine what had happened here that day. Normally we batted remarks back and forth all the time like a comedy duo, but in the face of this we had no words to say. I sensed a hint of anger on Kuyama’s face.
Written by Tetsuya Hirose
北上川の河川敷に大量の鉄板を敷き詰めただけの“道”を進めば、やがて大河に架かる橋は落ちて通行止めだった。だから多くの警察、自衛隊、消防、取材のタクシーがいるのだと思っていたがじつはその近く多くの子らが犠牲になった大川小学校だった。その後、東北を訪れるたびに手を合わせにいく場所のひとつとなったが、しばらくは規制もされずその中にも入れた。山と川の堤防に囲まれたような中に立つ小学校で何があのとき起きていたのかは想像するしなかなくて、普段は掛け合い漫才のようにテンポよく会話を交わす僕らも、そのときそこではほとんど何も言葉を交わすことはできなかった。そして久山の顔には少し怒りの影を感じた。
ライター / 廣瀬達也
Phitographed on 4/18/2011
On our first trip to Tōhoku after the disaster we decided we would try to get as close as we could to Rikuzentakada in Iwate Prefecture and take it from there. We arrived to find rubble and debris everywhere. At this stage the debris had not yet been assembled into piles; there was only a narrow road cut through the debris so that traffic could just about pass. We made our way through the rubble-strewn roads until we arrived at a beach. We were in the next town along the coast from Rikuzentakada, just a few kilometers away from the site of a pine grove that had been a famous local beauty spot before the tsunami hit. At the time, the media were featuring reports about a single “miracle pine” that had survived the disaster. On this beach too, several scraggly trees were still standing. They were not as tall or impressive as the famous pine at Rikuzentakada but the sight of them seemed to give us new courage. We decided we’d leave the Rikuzentakada pine to the major media outlets and look for encounters like this one with the pines in front of us now—less immediately impressive, perhaps, but tough and resilient and hanging in there just the same.
Written by Tatsuya Hirose
とにかく岩手県の陸前高田まで行こうと目指した、震災後初めての東北行。なんとかたどり着いたのは一面が瓦礫だらけ(このときはまだ高く積まれてもいなく、かろうじて道が開けているだけ)の町中を進んでたどり着いたのがかつて美しい松原があった陸前高田からほんの少しだけ離れた隣町の浜。当時ニュースをにぎわし始めていらのが“陸前高田の松原に残った一本の松”の話題。それほど高くかっこよくもなかったけれど、その浜にも何本かの木が耐えている姿を見て僕らも元気をもらえたような気がしていた。一本の松はメジャーに任せ僕らはこの、ちょっとカッコ悪いけどタフに頑張っている目の前の松のような出会いを探そうと言った
ライター / 廣瀬達也
Photographed on 4/18/2011
We later learned from the map that a long line of substantial stores had once stood here: a self-service gas station, a general clothing store, a car supply retailer . . . But from our vantage point amid the ruins of Route 45, the town of Rikuzentakada looked empty. Across the barren plain we could see the mountains in the distance. Mysterious puddles of water dotted the land around us, though we knew they couldn’t be rice paddies. When the sun finally began to sink behind the mountains, time seemed to slow as we looked out over the panorama before us. The slowed-down time seemed to soothe something within our hearts. Every time we looked at the scene, Kuyama always muttered the same grim question to himself: “I wonder what used to be here?”
Written by Tatsuya Hirose
後になって地図を見れば、そこにはセルフ式ガソリンスタンドや総合衣料店、カー用品店など、それも大型の店が立ち並んでいたことを知るのだが、そのとき国道45号跡から眺める陸前高田の町には何もなくて遠くの山々まで見渡せる広大な平野があるだけだった。水田でもないのに陸にたくさんの水溜りがある理由もよくはわからなかったが、やがて太陽が山に沈もうとするときの美しさと見渡せるが故にゆっくりと流れるような時間がなぜか心のどこか、わずかな部分を和ませてくれたりするのだった。毎回この風景を見るたびに「ここには何があったんやろう」と必ず久山氏は呟いていたなぁ。
ライター / 廣瀬達也
Photographed on 4/19/2011
From Rikuzentakada we drove south along Route 45. Toward Kesennuma, the road veers briefly away from the coast. Noticing a hardware store by the side of the road, we decided to stop by for a look around, but when we got closer we were shocked to realize that the entire first floor of the store had been swept away and now lay open to the elements. As we stepped out of the car, we noticed a strange smell in the air. Continuing into the town as if led on by something, we entered a black world where everything seemed to have been scorched by flames. Subsidence had left the coastal area where the seafood stores must once have stood under water. We had arrived in a monochrome world, devastated by the tsunami and the fires that followed. The surrounding area was susceptible to flooding even in normal times. There was no way a car could get through. Kuyama got out and put on his boots. Heedless of his own safety, he disappeared into the desolate landscape, occasionally reappearing again from the least expected places.
Written by Tetsuya Hirose
陸前高田から国道45号を南下。気仙沼の町に近付くにつれしばし海から離れる。そんなとき現れた国道沿いのホームセンターに立ち寄ろうとして近づいて、そこもまた一階部分が“吹き抜け”になっていることに驚かされる。車外へ出たことでもうひとつ気づいたのが異臭。導かれるように町へと向かえば、そこはほぼ全てが燃えた跡の黒い世界で海沿いの水産工場群だったのだろうエリアは地盤沈下により海水に浸っていた。津波と火災に襲われモノクロームの世界になってしまった町がそこにあった。付近一帯は普段でも浸水状態、車などが入っていける状況ではなく車を降りた久山は長靴を履きそんな危ういエリアの中に消えて行っては予想もしない場所からまた現われてくるのだった。
ライター / 廣瀬達也
Photograhed on 4/20/2011
Local residents as well as the Self-Defense Forces, police, and fire services all worked hard to open up a small road through the devastation. We made our way slowly south along the coast, making winding diversions where the bridges had been damaged or in places totally destroyed. Driving along a road that was hardly a road at all we arrived at Ishinomaki, where we were greeted by the sight of this huge, bright red cylinder by the roadside. Probably as much as 12 meters high, this giant object was the advertising sign of a local business called Kinoya that sold canned seafood. Despite its size, the can had been swept 500 meters by the waves. It was another grim reminder of the terrible force of the tsunami, but until now we had been moving through an almost entirely monochrome world and this flash of color, which might normally have provided some excitement, seemed to have a healing effect. There was a hint of happiness for the first time in Kuyama’s voice when he spoke. We visited the town several times after this and Kuyama always commented on the can with excitement in his voice: “It’s still there!” The can was removed in June 2012.
Written by Tetsuya Hirose
地元の人、自衛隊、警察、消防団・・・みんなが一生懸命作業して開通させてくれた小道を、ときに完全に破壊された橋を迂回しながら、道なき道を陸前高田から海岸線沿いに南下して到着した石巻で出迎えてくれた真赤な円筒形の巨大な物体。近所にある木の屋水産という会社の、12mはあろうかという看板が500mも流されてきたものであり、それも津波の凄まじさを示すもののひとつなのだが、それまで見てきたものがほとんどモノクロームの世界だっただけに、普通だったら興奮するはずの、その鮮やかな赤になんとなく癒されて、少し嬉しそうにそう言った。その後もここを訪れるたびに久山は「まだあった!」とテンションをあげていた。2012年6月に撤去。
ライター / 廣瀬達也
photographed on 4/19/2011
This was the devastating sight that greeted us as we entered Tōhoku and headed down from the mountains toward Rikuzentakada on the coast. Looming ahead of us were the ruined remains of the railway bridge that used to carry the JR Ōfunawatari line across the Kesen River. We had started to notice signs of the devastation along the road before now, but this was the first thing that really brought home to us the full scale and horror of what had happened. We were still more than three kilometers from the coast, where we had heard that one single tree had survived from the beautiful pine grove that had previously stretched along the beach at Rikuzentakada. From here, the altitude dropped and the extent of the damage grew more severe we neared the sea. Just before this photo was taken, there were ten times as many crows on the tree behind us. After this, Kuyama went off somewhere for a while, saying he wanted to take some pictures of the surroundings. When he returned, his face was grim and drawn.
Written by Tatsuya Hirose
初めて東北入りし陸前高田の海を目指し山から下っていたときに出会った光景。それは気仙川に架かるJR大船渡線の鉄橋の無残な“傷跡だった”。それまでの道沿いでもそれなりの痕は見始めていたのだが、凄さや凄惨さという意味で目の当たりにしたのはこれが最初となる。美しかった陸前高田の浜に続く松原にまだ一本だけが残っていると聞いていた海岸線まではまだ3km以上もの距離がある内陸部での出来事。その後標高が下がり、海に近付いていくとともにその傷痕の深さと強さは増していくことになる。この撮影の直前、後ろの木のカラスはこの10倍ほどいた。この後、久山は「ちょっと撮影してくる」といって小1時間ほど付近を巡ってきたがその顔は寂しげだった。
ライター / 廣瀬達也
写真家・久山城正氏は、あの震災の後、何度も何度も、定期的に被災地を訪れては、無心にシャッターを切り続けました。
それらの作品は、ライターの廣瀬達也氏の言葉とともに、2012年3月6日から11日に開催する個展で、公開する予定だったのです。しかし、その準備の途中に病が発覚し、彼の目論みは、かなわぬままとなりました。
しかし、東日本震災から4年が経過した今こそ、写真家・久山城正が切り取った大震災の風景を、ぜひ目の当たりにしていただきたい、そう考えて、作品の一部を、ウェブで公開させていただくことにしました。
Team Shiromasa