Eichan and Hirochan
Eiji and Hiro are my childhood friends and neighbors. This book is the collection of photographs I took of them over the past 15 years. The three of us were pretty much the same age. What separated Eiji and Hiro from me was that they had slight Intellectual Disabilities (mental retardation). From about middle school, we grew apart for a few years. It wasn't until my return for summer break from studying in the United States when we started to hang out again.
After graduating College with a degree in photography and returning to Japan, I based myself in Tokyo. As I would often return to my hometown of Hamamatsu to photograph my grandfather, Takuji, it also led me to spending more time with Eiji and Hiro as well. I could never take my eyes off of them. I longed for their pureness and was confounded by their behavior.
"I wonder if there is a certain word for some relationships? I've been taking photographs of particular people as a subject for a very long time, my grandfather Takuji Wakagi, and also, Eiji and Hiro. They are all people that are close in my life. I live in Tokyo as a photographer for fashion and advertisement but often spend my time in Hamamatsu and take their pictures. I always feel like I am gaining something important while pressing the shutter. At the same time, I feel like I am losing something as well. I'm not sure what, but I can't easily define it."
These were the words I attached in the 15 personal edition books of Eiji and Hiro I made in June, 2004. My grandfather died that very next month the book was released. 10 years have past since and my camera naturally pointed towards Eiji and Hiro every time I went home. It is still very hard to describe what I have gained and lost from them, but it is definitely there. I sometimes believe that if it were not for the act of taking pictures, our relationship wouldn't have lasted this long. On the other hand, there were days that I wouldn't even take a single picture and I can see that our relationship is not only based on photography. Although I feel very comfortable with them and enjoy taking pictures of them, sometimes I feel guilty at the same time. I believe this feeling comes from our differences in how we look at and digest our photographs. While the photos are a memorial for them, I have used the photos to let many people see them as part of my art. I've shown their pictures in exhibitions and published them in magazines. In that way, they believe the pictures travel and go places. This conflict as a photographer, shooting and publishing for the world was the same conflict I had with my grandfather. But this conflict doesn't make it difficult to keep taking pictures because the relationships I have with them is one of the reasons why I could keep taking their pictures. Whereas with my grandfather, I have always had a sense of limited time because of his age, with Eiji and Hiro, we were almost the same age and I felt we could have photo shoots as we aged together. This idea hasn't changed, but the sudden death of Eiji led me to publish this book.
Eiji.
He was a year older than me, but we lived close to each other so that it was natural to grow up together. All throughout middle school, Eiji was bullied for being different. At recess, his class mates would take his clothes off and drag him down the hall way. At the end, they bullied him to sit up straight, naked with an erection. I still feel sad when I recall Eiji crying and laughing at the same time. Even though his face was twisted and obviously conflicted, he had to laugh with the bullies so that he might not be picked on again and be accepted. I came across this scene by accident, but I could never forgive myself for being a coward just to watch him sit there alone.
Eiji loved baseball. I think baseball was the only reason he came to school. He was always benched during the games but, after everyone went home, he would stay and play ball by himself. He would play pitcher, batter, infielder and outfielder all by himself. He would even be an announcer and commentate for his imaginary game. After graduating middle school, he still played ball on the rice fields with the neighborhood's little kids. As the evening set, the kids would leave and you could still see him still playing. On my way home from High school, I usually saw Eiji playing ball by himself. "Eiji, you really like baseball, don't you?"
He would smile a "Yes" and throw the ball in the air. After middle school, Eiji went to work for a factory. That year, his father died and he became terribly depressed. A year later, he was certified mentally ill by the state and he was forced to quit. He started going to the mental hospital regularly and he was prescribed all kinds of behavior drugs. Some of their side effects made him gain weight and physically drag one leg. Whenever Eiji had time, he would play with Hiro. Hiro was also bullied during middle school, however, Hiro transferred to a special school where he fit in and he gained his confidence.
When I was in school in America and came back for the summer break, they would call me out to hang out, just like in old times. I remember waking up terrified to see both of them sticking their heads through my window, watching me sleep on very hot summer days.
While in the institution, Eiji had made a new friend, her name was Chie. Eiji, Hiro, and Chie were always together. Whenever I went back home, we all went out together. We would have dinner or hang out at the video game arcades. Some days, many of their friends joined us and we would have barbecues or go swimming at the beach. Having the freedom of a freelance photographer, I would spend more time with them let me into compared to my other friends who worked full time. They their world very naturally.
As I am also interested in films, we started to make home movies with them and began to think about actually recording them for a feature film.
In my first feature film, 'Waltz in Starlight'(2007), the two of them, Eiji and Hiro, play a cameo roll. I remember they enjoyed talking to us about the script after seeing their conversation shown to the whole world on screen. This is very difficult to describe, but for some reason, it seemed like they justified their lines on the script and began to repeat these statements even off the camera and after filming. It was almost comical and very endearing to me.
After the film was released, they would always ask me, "When is the next film coming up? We're always ready." I felt quite responsible and concerned about this situation, but after awhile, everything went back to normal. The film became one of our greatest memories together and I am glad that we finished it.
Eiji's mental situation changed with each season and it seemed like he was given different drugs every time. On one day, he wouldn't say a word. On another, he wouldn't come out of his room. Still, when I went to see him, he would respond to me with a smile. When he felt better, he would smile and say "I am going to get better and work on my own and earn my own money." Sometimes, he would feel great enough to be positive and sing a couple of songs. One of the side effects to his medications made him either gain or lose weight. At some point, he instantly lost weight and never made it back. He was only one year older than me, but he looked like an old man. I couldn't believe my eyes and I thought maybe the drugs were to strong. Sometimes, one of his side effects was he couldn't speak right. But he would manage to hang out around town with his friends. Eiji loved to play pachinko (mechanical gambling game superficially resembling pinball) and watch auto races. I believe it reminded him of his father.
I opened a bookstore in the city of Hamamatsu and I spent less time around my parent's home. Eiji and friends came out to hang with me in town. I felt very fond of them hanging out in a city that seemed so big for us when we were kids.
April 6, 2013, Eiji was feeling good that morning and left to see Chie on his bike. That afternoon, hard wind and rain ravaged Japan. Eiji was not home the next morning. At first, his mother was not too concerned because he had stayed out all night in the past and he would come back home later the next day. When he didn't come home later that day, she called the police to search for Eiji.
One night after a day had passed since Eiji was lost, Hiro called me. "Eiji is lost. I'm not sure about anything so try calling your parents for some information." My parents heard nothing of the news.
On April 8th, my father visited Eiji's parents in the morning to find out if everything was the matter. He found out that Eiji was carried to the hospital and had died. I had a phone call from my father that afternoon to hear about our loss. I was disappointed in myself. All these years, I had only taken his picture but I couldn't be there to do anything for Eiji.
When the police found Eiji, he was lying in a bush beside a hill which led to a forest, very far from Chie's house. It seems that he tried to ride home in that storm and he must have lost his way. He fell and hit his head so hard that he was left immobile. The police believed he lost control of his bike in the storm and knocked himself out when he fell. When they first found him, he was still breathing but, his body By the time they got him to the hospital, it was too late. The nights are still cold in April and I'm not sure if he was conscious but, he must have been freezing spending the night in that cold. was freezing.
April 9th was the wake ceremony, followed by the funeral. Although Eiji's mother was calm in greeting all the people who came to pay their respects, you could see that she had been deeply grieving. After the funeral I went to see Eiji's mother.
"I am very sad about this but, at the same time, I feel relieved." she told me. She was worried about her son if she were to die first. She also told me that Eiji recently asked her what would happen after she died or what she would do after he died. "We will have a great funeral for you.." was what she told him.
No one had thought that Eiji would go so soon. His funeral photo was one from his certificate. It was a face I have never seen. He looked like a little angry kid. I wish I could have managed to have his picture ready. They were all pictures of Eiji smiling.
May 6th, Hiro called me saying "That show yesterday, the one with Coach Nagashima in it, (Ceremony to Present the National Baseball Honor Awards), Eiji would be sad if he couldn't watch it." It was early in the morning, and those words are left in my ears. Although the two of them were very close and they still had their fights, Hiro was always caring about Eiji, he looked after him the most.
November 6th was Eiji's birthday. Chie told me a story about one particular birthday. "A long time ago, I asked Eiji what he wanted for his birthday. He said he wanted me to make him three rice balls." Eiji liked Chie very much. He was the happiest guy when they were together.
The road of my hometown that I have photographed is still straight. One of my friends who I have grown up with and whose image I have been taking is no longer here. I am the one who lives somewhere else, but now, I am the one standing here alone. The dry road along the rice fields was filled with water as if it were a pond. This was the place where I took a picture of Eiji. And now I wonder, where has my familiar scenery gone.
BOOK PUBLISHED ON MARCH, 2015.