Sixte Kakinda
From Hiroshima to Shinkolobwe (2023)
Video

The uranium used in the atomic bomb dropped on Hiroshima originated from the "Shinkolobwe Mine" in Congo, which was under Belgian control at the time. This film is part of a series of artworks by Kakinda, who was born in the Democratic Republic of Congo and studied art in Japan, focusing on the interconnectedness between Congo and Hiroshima.

This work presents a timeline that retraces the path taken by the uranium, starting from Hiroshima where the artist visited before, through Tinian Island, where the Enola Gay, the plane that dropped the atomic bomb, departed. It then follows the route back to the United States and Congo. According to Kakinda, this work is a reflection of "the time it took to move uranium from the Shinkolobwe mine in the Congo-Belgium, to its processing in the USA before ending up as a bomb on Hiroshima," "the time spent thinking about a destructive project that 'will change the world' as Oppenheimer says in an interview included in this work," and "the time spent on an act that will be destructive and that will leave indelible traces in Japan, in the USA and in the Congo, connecting and binding these three countries forever."

Layla Yamamoto
birthday(red) (2017)
41 x 31.8 cm
canvas, acrylic paint

This painting is part of the "After the Quake" series, which offers a reimagined exploration of the Japan-U.S. relationship in the aftermath of World War II, focusing on the theme of nuclear energy. It visually narrates a sequence of events, beginning with the atomic bombings, followed by the adoption of nuclear power generation technology through imports, and culminating in the Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear Power Plant accident.

The artwork specifically portrays the iconic "Trinity Test," which marked the first-ever atomic bomb test conducted in the United States. In the painting, the number "716" represents the significant date of July 16, corresponding to the test, while signifying its historical connection to Hiroshima, symbolized by the subsequent date of "before" August 6, 1945.

Souya Handa
6 AŬG. 1945 (2023)
9 AŬG. 1945 (2023)
35 x 25 cm
acrylic on canvas

6 AŬG. 1945 portrays the historic day of the atomic bombing of Hiroshima on August 6, 1945, in the style of On Kawara's date paintings. In this exhibition, Handa explores the concept of the "time of Hiroshima" and reflects on the significance of that fateful date as well as the enduring prayers for Hiroshima over the past 75 years. Through the use of On Kawara's style, the artwork-making process becomes a medium for contemplation, allowing the artist to meditate on their thoughts and emotions regarding the event, while also embodying the passage of time through its creation.

9 AŬG. 1945 is, as of now, the date on which humanity last employed nuclear weapons. "Nagasaki" is one of Japan's foremost regions with a firmly established Christian presence. The United States, a Christian nation, detonated an atomic bomb above the city of Nagasaki, inhabited by Christians. This fact holds a distinct significance and context different from that of Hiroshima.

Souya Handa
Hiroshima, to me (2023)
Essay

Summer of 1994. I was born around half a century after Japan's defeat in the war. Raised in Hiroshima under the care of my parents, who hailed from the city—specifically, I grew up in Hatsukaichi. Though just a 15-minute train ride away from Hiroshima city, there existed subtle cultural differences.

In the elementary schools of Hiroshima city, there were school days during summer vacation. We would gather at school on the day of the atomic bombing anniversary. Hatsukaichi didn't have that. For us, the day of the atomic bombing felt like any other day of summer vacation. However, at 8:15 AM, sirens would sound from outside, and every channel except the educational ones would broadcast the memorial ceremony.

Writing "Hiroshima" in katakana—a script often used for foreign words or to give a sense of detachment—made it feel somewhat distant. Of course, I hadn't experienced the atomic bombing, and I am not a hibakusha (atomic bomb survivor), nor did I grow up within Hiroshima city.

At 18, after graduating from high school, I came to Tokyo. On August 6th, I turned on the television. I had heard rumors, but the glimpse of Hiroshima was fleeting; it quickly returned to the usual morning show. Hiroshima felt even more distant from here, farther than the four-hour Shinkansen ride.

So, I had been much closer to Hiroshima all along.

Yet, precisely because of this, Hiroshima is difficult to handle. It carries weight. It's not something to be consumed lightly. It's not something outsiders can easily touch.

Since coming to Tokyo, I had visited a research lab that deals with the memory of Hiroshima. "The people of Hiroshima have internalized the mission of conveying and preserving Hiroshima's story," the professor of the lab said.

"Internalized." A word commonly heard, yet one that hadn't quite clicked in meaning for me. But now, it made sense. The necessity of conveying and preserving Hiroshima's story was something unquestionably obvious to me.

I had internalized it. There were plenty of people who hadn't. So then, who would take on the task of handling Hiroshima?

It wasn't that a single event suddenly triggered a switch. Yet, through the accumulation of such events, my determination gradually solidified, little by little.

Souya Handa
HNagasaki, to me (2023)
Essay

I went to Nagasaki to watch a soccer match. It was in the spring of 2018. I had been following the J-League for nearly 20 years.

The match between Nagasaki and Hiroshima took place during Golden Week, a series of national holidays in Japan that spans from the end of April to early May, when many people take vacations. I flew directly from Tokyo and met up with my parents, who had driven from Hiroshima, at the stadium. We watched the game, had dinner together, stayed overnight, and then went sightseeing.

At the Atomic Bomb Museum, I saw the remnants of a church. To the United States, the Japanese were likely seen as heathens, of a different race, an incomprehensible enemy. Yet Nagasaki was a Christian city, and they had dropped a bomb on their own brethren.

After visiting the art museum, I parted ways with my parents and decided to explore Nagasaki on my own. Like Hiroshima, Nagasaki was a city with streetcars.

When I visited a church, I noticed the emblem of the Society of Jesus (Jesuits). The middle and high schools I attended were Jesuit institutions.

And like Hiroshima, Nagasaki was also a place where an atomic bomb had been dropped.

I decided to rent a car and travel a bit farther on my own. I went to see the sites of the Hidden Christians. The mark of the Jesuits was evident there as well.

The city of Nagasaki was brimming with familiar culture, and my life is connected to its history.

Kei Ito
Riddle of Peace and War (site specific installation) (2023)
Installation

In this installation, a printer continuously ejects paper bearing the words "WHO WILL BE THE NEXT SACRIFICE FOR THE PEACE" and "WHO WILL BE THE NEXT SACRIFICE FOR THE WAR." This installation is an adapted version of Ito's artwork, originally exhibited in the United States in 2022, where the words were inscribed in ash on a wooden base.

For instance, in the context of the United States, the atomic bomb served as one of the weapons that brought an end to the Pacific War and ostensibly ushered in a period of "peace." However, the usage of the bomb, as well as the sacrifices endured during its development and testing, can be seen as sacrifices made in the name of "peace." This installation powerfully captures this irony, as the cynical phrase continues to be printed on the paper, highlighting the perpetuation of sacrifices for a "peace" enjoyed by others.

Souya Handa
Our Postwar is NOT Over (2023)
We Still Hold the Errors (2023)
Time is Moving but the Clock is (2023)
30 x 30 cm
Arduino (LOLIN D1 R2 type), LCD, woodcut

This series of artworks focuses on the theme of "Time in Hiroshima." The first piece, titled "Our Postwar is NOT Over," represents the time elapsed since 8:15:17 on August 6, 1945, when the atomic bomb was said to have been dropped on Hiroshima, displayed in seconds. The second work, "We Still Hold the Errors," portrays the passage of time since the atomic bomb was dropped in years, months, dates, minutes, and seconds, adhering to the international standard ISO 8601.  These artworks serve as a testament to Hiroshima's enduring contemplation of nuclear weapons and their unyielding pursuit of nuclear abolition. They also reveal the sobering reality that nuclear weapons have persisted in the world for an extensive period of time.

The third work titled "Time is Moving but the Clock is" draws inspiration from a clock exhibited at the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum, frozen at approximately 8:15 a.m. The screen display, resembling a digital clock, perpetually exhibits only the time of the atomic bombing. This portrayal suggests that while time continues to flow, there exists a part of Hiroshima where time has come to a standstill.

Kei Ito
Eye Who Witnessed #70 (2020-2021 (printed in 2023))
Eye Who Witnessed #84 (2020-2021 (printed in 2023))
59.4 x 84.1 cm

Inkjet print on glossy paper (enlarged from original unique C-prints made with sunlight and historic archive)

This photographic artwork portrays the eyes of survivors from the atomic bombings in Japan and American Downwinders, individuals exposed to radiation through nuclear tests conducted in the United States, including technicians involved in nuclear weapon development. The artist curated the original images from books, video interviews, and his personal family albums. The original artwork consists of 108 prints, which were deliberately mixed-up during installation, blurring the distinction between Japanese and American victims. This intentional ambiguity underscores the fact that nuclear weapons impact individuals irrespective of their nationality. For this exhibition, two prints have been specifically chosen and enlarged for display.

By utilizing archival materials, the artist captures the eyes of these survivors, who bore witness to the "artificial sunlight" of nuclear power, imprinting their images with the authentic sunlight. As viewers engage with the artwork, confronted by the powerful gazes of these survivors, their eyes become a poignant symbol representing countless untold stories of atomic testimonies, as the artist aptly conveys.

Layla Yamamoto
American flag on a document of Trinity (2019)
22 x 27.3cm
pastel, collage on a canvas board

This artwork belongs to Yamamoto's "After the Quake" series. It features a drawing of the American flag placed on top of an image that depicts an article reporting on the Trinity test, which was the first nuclear test conducted in the United States. This juxtaposition serves to emphasize the presence of 'nuclear' in America and corresponds to Ito's 'Eye Who Witnessed,' which sheds light on the existence of survivors within the United States.

Kei Ito
New Light - Narrowcast (USA) (2019)
Sound by Andrew Paul Keiper
Video

"New Light" is a video installation series that is dedicated to countries which have conducted nuclear testing. The series involves reworking footage from the country's nuclear tests, breaking down each film into 1,000s still images. These frames are then reprinted onto darkroom paper with tinted sunlight. Finally, the prints are scanned again to recreate a single video. During the exposure process, objects like Godzilla figurines or Enola Gay toys were sometimes placed on the darkroom paper.

The sound component of each video is composed by a composer/sound artist who is native to the said country. In the case of New Light - Narrowcast (USA), the composition is done by Andrew Paul Kiper, an American sound artist who has a grandfather that worked as an engineer for the Manhattan Project, contributing to the development of the nuclear bomb.

These works by Ito, who considers "non-camera photography" as one of his primary forms of his artwork, can be seen as Ito himself becoming the camera, capturing historical records and society.

Souya Handa
Take it Home (2023)
Installation with incense

This installation artwork revolves around the theme of "Take it Home," which also serves as the exhibition's title. It utilizes the evocative scent of incense burned within the exhibition space as its central element. The lingering fragrance of the incense permeates one's clothes and hair, prompting the viewer to inadvertently carry it along, symbolically "taking it home." This aromatic experience serves as a metaphor for the invisible remnants of radioactivity that permeated the air and grounds when visitors first entered Hiroshima in the aftermath of the atomic bombing. Additionally, the artist intends for the scent to act as a trigger, invoking memories of the exhibition and prompting viewers to recall their observations and contemplations during their visit to Hiroshima.

In collaboration with Shoyeido, an esteemed incense store, exhibition attendees will have the opportunity to receive a sample of the exact incense used in the installation. This partnership enables visitors to extend their sensory connection with the artwork beyond the confines of the exhibition space. By bringing home the incense, they can recreate the olfactory experience and rekindle the memories associated with their profound encounter at the exhibition.

* The number of the incense samples is limited.

Layla Yamamoto
Therefore I want it (Postwar is over) (2019)
53 x 45.5 cm
Canvas, acrylic paint

This artwork belongs to the "After the Quake" series. The phrase "Postwar is Over" combines elements inspired by John Lennon and Yoko Ono's "WAR IS OVER!" and speech bubbles from Roy Lichtenstein, an American pop artist. The overlapping wave imagery merges Hokusai's iconic waves with depictions of tsunamis during times of disaster. The phrase "Postwar is Over" depicted in Yamamoto's artwork aims to prompt a reevaluation of the post-war system, particularly as the Japan-U.S. relationship approaches its 80th year. It encourages confronting the reality of Japanese society, which has long moved beyond the periods of high economic growth and the bubble era.

However, within the context of Hiroshima, the word "postwar" may carry a different significance. Considering that Hiroshima's postwar period is not truly over until "all atomic bombs are eradicated from the world," the message of "Postwar is Over" in this exhibition resonates with the prayers of Hiroshima.