Where Have the Birds Gone?
Nicolas St-Pierre
Where Have the Birds Gone?
枯朶に
烏のとまりけり
秋の暮
On a withered branch
A solitary crow
Autumn evening
- Matsuo Bashō (1644–1694)
An intricate web of electric wires deserted by birds, a small boy being swallowed by a giant rock, a faceless train operator...
During the four years that I lived in Japan (2015-19), I spent countless hours exploring on foot the streets and back alleys of Tokyo. Almost every day, I was stopped dead in my own tracks by the unexpected sight of something that did not belong to the scene or by the deafening silence of something that cried out to be there.
Despite all the time and efforts that I had invested to learn Japanese and acquaint myself with local culture, I was never able to completely shake off the impression that I had set foot in a strange land.
The series of photographs presented here is drawn from a larger body of work and constitutes my own attempt at rendering the sense of alienation and unease that I felt while living in Japan.
Read More烏のとまりけり
秋の暮
On a withered branch
A solitary crow
Autumn evening
- Matsuo Bashō (1644–1694)
An intricate web of electric wires deserted by birds, a small boy being swallowed by a giant rock, a faceless train operator...
During the four years that I lived in Japan (2015-19), I spent countless hours exploring on foot the streets and back alleys of Tokyo. Almost every day, I was stopped dead in my own tracks by the unexpected sight of something that did not belong to the scene or by the deafening silence of something that cried out to be there.
Despite all the time and efforts that I had invested to learn Japanese and acquaint myself with local culture, I was never able to completely shake off the impression that I had set foot in a strange land.
The series of photographs presented here is drawn from a larger body of work and constitutes my own attempt at rendering the sense of alienation and unease that I felt while living in Japan.