Tsuki no Michi - Borderland English text

Thoughts on "Tsuki no Michi - Borderland"　

No other island is marked with the feeling of an isolated, closed-off space as much as Gunkanjima (Battleship island). It must be because of the wall, far above the ground, which encircles the shoreline. Towering above the ocean, it reminds me of an ancient city-state, or perhaps even a prison. The awe that struck me when I first looked up at the immense partition from a boat, stayed with me ever since.

One winter night in 1988, I stood on the wall of Gunkanjima. There, I noticed that the top of the moonlit wall looked like a road. The road seemed to stretch on and on,into eternity. On one side of the road was the ceaseless ocean, and on the other side was Gunkanjima, resembling a great black heap. As I gazed at this sight, I felt that this spectacle was indeed a symbolic one.

Any kind of ruin usually conveys the feeling of death, but this man-made island at night, lined with rows of deserted apartment houses was indeed "death" in itself. Contrarily, the surrounding sea , the mother of all living things on earth, signified the source of "life." The island of death and the sea of life, and the wall that divides the two -- I felt I saw the time and space representing Chuu-u. It is the Buddhist concept signifying the forty-nine days during which the deceased has not yet fully arrived in the world of death, and wander between life and death, belonging fully to neither world. Up till them, "Life, Chuu-u, and Death" had been merely a concept in my mind. Now it was suddenly revealed to me as a visible scene of reality of the sea, the wall, and Gunkanjima.

I walked along the Moon Passage (upon the wall) and took photographs of Life (the sea), Chuu-u (the wall), and Death (Gunkanjima) as the scenes unfolded before my eyes.

I took these photos at night with only the light of the moon. The indistinct moonlit world, is neither a world of total darkness that conceals all things, nor is it the daytime world filled with sunlight. It is a world somewhere in between. The wall bordering life and death, and moonlit world bordering night and day. They both seemed to embody Chuu-u.

Photographing under the dim light of the moon required time exposure. A scene impossible in reality was captured on film after one hour of exposure, It is because in time exposures, only objects that remain stationary are fixed on the film. Moving things vanish from sight, only with vague traces remaining to tell on their existence. The island was captured on film as it was seen in reality. But the raging winter's sea turned into a quiet sea, minus waves. The thundering waves that crashed against the wall became white mist floating mystically on film.

Yet, the things that vanished in the photographs are, in fact, life. The things that left a definite mark on the film are immobile object--the dead things. The technique of time exposure where a period of time is enclosed in a photograph has thus resulted in a clear definition of life and death.

This series consists of simple compositions of the continuous stretch of the wall under dim moonlit, without much detail about the island, or explicit imformation. By eliminating much of the elements that make up the island, I hope for the appearance of some universal time and space, beyond conventional image of an abandoned structure in ruins.

By following the pictures in order, you can take a tour of the entire island. Photo #1 through 22 circles the island clockwise, while #33 through 54 travels counterclockwise. Photo #23 through 34 are photographs of the wall belonging to neither (I inserted photographs from #1 to 22 in this website). In either direction, the first and last pictures are of the same spot as they allow you to realize you have fully circled the island.