In January 2009, My grandmother was admitted to the hospital.
The doctor told us she had three months to live.
I went back to my parents’ house as many times as I could, thinking about capturing her image
as frequently as I could.
But I could hardly do this because she was more emaciated each time I saw her.
I walked around my house and took photographs of it as if I sought for the shadow of my grandmother.
She passed away in April as the doctor had predicted .
The funeral, the 49th day after death, the Bon Festival, all has passed so quickly.
I continued to go back to my parents’ house to take photographs afterwards.
The year 2009 came to an end in that way.
I noticed that I could feel her presence more strongly from the photograph taken around my house
than those taken of her, herself and of which I had only a few shots. M
emories will fade out little by little from one’s mind, but I realized that the fragments of memory that were
etched into a little landscape where I spent with her will remain from now on.
The landscape which seemed nothing much to me before, has become a beautiful memory now.
These works are follow Murakoshi’s “until and unless”（published in 2010）
and “calendula”（published in 2011） and “turn back the hands of time”（published in 2013）.
Murakoshi began working on this series at greater pace following the Great East Japan Earthquake.
He also exhibits past work as well as this series in parallel.
His work turns on various time axes that cannot be separated from each other.
|
