Thinking about
Hiroshima
and Nagasaki,
and the future
At 8:15 a.m. on August 6, 1945,
the first nuclear weapon used against humans, a uranium-fueled atomic bomb nicknamed “Little Boy”, was dropped on Hiroshima. Three days later on August 9, the last nuclear weapons used against humans, a plutonium fueled atomic bomb nicknamed “Fat Man” was dropped on Nagasaki. These two atomic bombs took the lives of between 350,000 and 400,000 people and made Japan the world’s only country attacked with atomic weapons. In an instant, hundreds of thousands of people were annihilated, and later, many more lost their lives to radiation. Hiroshima and Nagasaki, these names are deeply etched in the hearts of the Japanese.
Time~Sound (2017) by Masanori Mimasu
More than 10 years ago, I visited Nagasaki to teach my children about the tragedy of war. I will never forget a conversation with our taxi driver, as I rode from the Peace Memorial Park. Although my question was impolite, on the way to the hotel I asked the driver if any one close to him had suffered from the atomic bomb. He answered that the bomb killed his grandparents, mother and younger brother. The driver also told me that he carried an Atomic Bomb Survivor’s Certificate and there are still times he feels handicapped. We were all shocked by the driver’s words.
Flying Don Quijote (2017)
by Seiji Yamaguchi
Fallen Leaves (2017) by Shinnosuke Tazumi
It was difficult for me to mentally associate the horrible images exhibited at the Atomic Bomb Museum I had seen while touring earlier that day with the driver. In the park, there were many foreign sightseers, so I asked him another question. “In your position, don’t you feel some resentment when you carry American passengers?” He said, “I do not feel any resentment towards anybody. If I feel resentment, I resent the war. We must never make war no matter what happens.
Love-95 (Cherry Blossom) (2017)
by Taika Kinoshita
Rewind 037-02 (2017)
by Tomotsugu Otsuka
More than that I simply desire peace. I want a peaceful world where no human being will ever again suffer the effects of nuclear weapons.” This answer, which he gave without hesitation, was simple, clear, and could not have been more correct.
Flight Over Miyajima (2017)
by Toshimitsu Ito
Never Repeat the Same Mistake (2017)
by Makiko Tateishi
Hearing these words delivered flatly by a person who had endured unimaginable suffering and anguish, I felt a lump in my throat and nodded in respect. Since then, deep in my heart, my outrage that everywhere in the world people driven by mutual hatred are fighting one another has been in conflict with the driver’s desire for peace.
Teddy (2017)
by Kojiro Futamata
I asked 133 artists to contribute to
the Project Limited to Artists from Hiroshima and Nagasaki. I didn’t ask them to focus on the themes of war or atomic bombs, but I imagine that not only artists who have created works specifically about atomic bombs, but even artists who have dealt with far different topics think of something they wish to say when they hear the words, “Hiroshima and Nagasaki”.
Cloud (2017)
by Eriko Ota
I have never stopped wondering how people with personal links to these two cities confront the atomic bomb. When I have talked to the artists who have this personal connection, contrary to my expectations, they are not very conscious of war and atomic weapons. They don’t portray scenes as tragically as one would expect. As one who has strong feelings about the world’s only atomic bomb sites,
Story of Life (2017)
by Hidemitsu Takagaki
I am completely puzzled by this. As I stood looking
at their works, I suddenly realized something. It occurred to me that these people are probably looking beyond what I see. They are likely looking ahead to the future free from the past anticipating a time of constant peace. With the tragic past internalized, they may instead value the present with their eyes fixed on the future.
Vermilion Bird of the South (2017) by Keita Tatsuguchi
I wonder what visitors to these works will see, will think, and will feel when standing in front of each one. When they look at all 133 canvases at one time, what will appear to them? What will the artists have expressed and what will they have communicated? Something definitely different from words, something they wanted to communicate should arise. And finally, I wonder what Mr. Luciano Benetton, who has eagerly anticipated the successful completion of this project will experience?
December 2017 Tsugu Tamenaga