“I thought the bomb was dropped right next to me. But actually the bomb was detonated 2,800 meters (almost 2 miles) away.” -Takeshi Minekawa
I recently received the sad news that Mr. Takeshi Minekawa passed away on January 5th, 2024. He was 87 years old. I photographed him near the hypocenter where the atomic bomb detonated over Nagasaki. This portrait has only been shown at the From Above exhibition in 2018. I took the photograph nearly a decade after I began photographing hibakusha, atomic bomb survivors.
Mr. Minekawa was nine years old when the atomic bomb exploded. He was with his parents when the plane carrying the “Fat Boy” atomic bomb flew over Nagasaki. They went outside to look when the air raid siren sounded and were overwhelmed by the enormous boom, flash of light, wind, and heat immediately after the explosion.
This portrait is part of my project From Above, which is a collection of portraits and reminiscences of atomic bomb survivors and firebombing survivors from Dresden, Tokyo, Coventry, Rotterdam, and Wielun. From Above is permanently exhibited at the Nagasaki Peace Memorial Hall for Atomic Bomb Victims. It has also been exhibited internationally in museums, exhibition spaces, and at the United Nations. From Above was released as a limited edition book that was sold at PhotoEye.com. It is sold out, but I have the last copies. Contact me if you’re interested.
“I was 4 years old when the atomic bomb was dropped. So I don’t know “normal life.” I hated the war for a long time, but realized having a grudge does nothing. I have to speak and leave messages to the next generation.” -Hidetaka Komine
Yesterday I received the sad news that Hidetaka Komine passed away, a couple of days before his 84th birthday. I met Mr. Komine during the second day of my initial trip to Nagasaki. He was the fifth hibakusha, atomic bomb survivor, I met. I remember it clearly because he was an unforgettable and remarkable person. He left an impression even before we were introduced. When I was walking back into the Nagasaki Atomic Bomb Museum, I caught a glimpse of a man wearing a leather jacket and smoking a cigarette. He looked like he rode a Harley Davidson. Twenty minutes later, when it was time for my next interview and photograph, the man with the leather jacket walked in, it was Mr. Komine. He immediately started speaking and using his hands like I do, more direct and aggressive than any person I met in Japan. Even though I had no idea what he was saying, I knew he was interesting. He reminded me of the characters from my childhood in Brooklyn.
Mr. Komine lived a tough life, but he fought through the struggles and lived with dignity and pride. He could admit to the pain, anger, sadness, and regrets. There was no veil of secrecy in his words. I’m not sure I’ve ever met someone who was tougher, sincere, or more compassionate. This is what real strength is to me.
He became my friend from the first moment. I returned to Nagasaki many times, and he was always there to greet me, and developed a friendship with my translator Seiichi. On my second visit to Nagasaki in May 2010, I exhibited the first portraits at the Nagasaki Peace Museum so that everyone I photographed could see. At that point, the project was seen once in Tokyo and there wasn’t any interest from venues in Nagasaki. Izumi and I were persistent. When Mr. Komine came to the exhibition with the other hibakusha, we spoke about my trip to Dresden to photograph firebombing survivors. But I will always remember him speaking with another person I photographed and saying that he didn’t recognize them because “Paule made them look better in the photograph.” That was Mr. Komine’s personality, like a character from Brooklyn and not like anyone else in Japan.
“If I had not encountered the atomic bomb, I don’t know what kind of life was waiting for me.”
The atomic bomb was one of Mr. Komine’s first memories of life. He was the first to tell me that the life of an hibakusha was cut in two. The life before the atomic bomb, and then the sharp cut the moment after the bomb exploded. His entire life he was subjected to discrimination, and prejudice. One day as a child he had enough of the fierce bullying because the atomic bomb left him with injuries that made it painful to walk. He fought back, risking serious injury, but he considered it a salvation to stand up for himself.
It wasn’t until he was 50 years old that Mr. Komine publicly spoke about his experiences. He was ready earlier in life to speak than most hibakusha. It was an honor that Mr. Komine was my friend. He made me a better person, and had more compassion and strength in one of his fingernails than I have in my entire body. The world was a better place with him in it. He will be missed.
“On the first day of the war there was a big bang- a bomb fell nearby and destroyed the facade in front of our house. I went into the cellar and hid in a baby carriage for all five days of the war. On the last day the Germans bombed Rotterdam. I came out of the cellar and saw that the sky was red because Rotterdam was burning.” -Max van Trommel
The bombing of the Dutch city of Rotterdam by the Luftwaffe occurred on May 14th,1940, four days after the start of the German invasion. The fierce resistance in Rotterdam was to be broken and the Dutch were forced to capitulate. Despite a truce that had been agreed in advance, the city was bombed under circumstances and is still controversial. The historic city center was destroyed, 900 people died and 85,000 people lost their homes. The Dutch government surrendered the following day and thus spared further cities a similar fate. Rotterdam remained occupied until the end of the Second World War.
During the occupation Max’s family suffered under the anti-Jewish measures. Max was the one to bring his sister away to a hiding place and later, he and his brother found a place in different locations in the east of the country. He spent the last three years of the war in hiding.
“During the first year not much changed. Then the Germans ordered us to wear yellow stars on our clothing. I had never been to a synagogue. I didn’t even know I was Jewish until they told me. Laws saying that Jews not allowed to travel on buses and trams, or go to public markets. That was the first serious sign that life had changed. Then they started issuing food coupons. We couldn’t buy certain things because there wasn’t enough food. My mother asked me to go around the city on bicycle to redeem the coupons. That was horrible because I went to shops outside my neighborhood where the owners didn’t know me. When they saw the yellow star they yelled at me to get out. It gave me an awful feeling that I was abnormal and wasn’t a part of the population.
When Jewish families began to be transported, my grandfather said we had to flee. My sister, 4, had to be brought to an address in Den Haag. My mother was unable to do that so I had to. I didn’t know the people who would be caring for my sister. My sister was anxious and felt something was wrong and didn’t want to leave my side. But I had to. The next day, my sister went to play in the garden then I left which was horrible because I betrayed my sister. I always hoped to apologize to my sister at the end of the war. The first time I saw my sister after the war, I spoke to her about it but she didn’t remember. My sister committed suicide at the age of 21. She wrote us a letter saying “I am not normal.” Which we understood because this is how we felt after the war. After the war I discovered my grandparents were hiding close to where I was. They had been betrayed and transported to Sobibor where they were murdered.”
This portrait is a part of my From Above project, which is a collection of portraits and reminiscences of atomic bomb survivors and firebombing survivors from Dresden, Tokyo, Coventry, Rotterdam and Wielun. A portion of From Above is permanently exhibited at the Nagasaki Peace Memorial Hall for Atomic Bomb Victims. It has also been exhibited in numerous museums and exhibition spaces. From Above was released as a limited edition book that was sold at PhotoEye.com. The book is sold out from the site, but I have the last copies. Contact me if you’re interested.
“I’m thankful to have parents who are open minded, and listened to what I was feeling when I was young.”
-Floris, age 22, 2022
Floris is a young adult living in the Netherlands. He began transitioning to the gender he identified with when he was four-years-old.
This is the second portrait I photographed of Floris for my portrait project Embrace. The first portrait, photographed in 2016, was posted yesterday. Embrace is a long term project which explores the lives of transgender and gender non-binary youth, adults and elderly from different parts of the world. Embrace was exhibited at Gallery ef in Tokyo and FotoForum Dresden during 2020. I’m hoping to exhibit the project again in the near future.
“I live a normal life just like any other person, except mine has an extra chapter.”
-Floris, age 15, 2016
Floris is a young adult living in the Netherlands. He began transitioning to the gender he identified with when he was four-years-old.
This is the first portrait I photographed of Floris for my portrait project Embrace. The second portrait, photographed in 2022, will be posted tomorrow. Embrace is a long term project which explores the lives of transgender and gender non-binary youth, adults and elderly from different parts of the world. Embrace was exhibited at Gallery ef in Tokyo and FotoForum Dresden during 2020. I’m hoping to exhibit the project again in the near future.
From Above at Gallery ef. From Above, consists of portraits and reminiscences of atomic bomb survivors from Hiroshima and Nagasaki, and WWII firebombing survivors from Dresden, Coventry, Tokyo, Wielun and Rotterdam.
Today is the 4th anniversary of the Treaty Banning Nuclear Weapons (TPNW). On January 22nd (TPNW) it was enacted as international law. Before this treaty nuclear weapons were the only weapons of mass destruction not banned by international law.
Mrs. Setsuko Thurlow fought her entire life to see this treaty become reality. I began photographing Mrs. Thurlow in 2011. From the moment we met her determination to fight for the abolition of nuclear weapons was evident. She was 13 years old when the atomic bomb destroyed Hiroshima.
“When I sit down to write down my recollections of that time, I have to brace myself to confront my memories of Hiroshima.
It is exceedingly painful to do this because I become overwhelmed by my memories of grotesque and massive destruction and death.” -Setsuko Thurlow
Everyday I think about the survivors I met in Nagasaki and Hiroshima. Most have passed but their memory lives on when the treaty banning nuclear weapons arrives.
Mrs. Thurlow’s portrait is part of my project, From Above, which is a collection portraits and reminiscences of atomic bomb survivors and fire bombing survivors from the Second World War. It will be exhibited at Gallery ef in Tokyo on September 1st-12th.
“I poured the water I was carrying, over my head then poured the water into my hand and put my hand to my lips. We helped each other and endured the suffocation. Gradually, the burning heat had gone.”
-Hiroo Fujima, Tokyo firebombing survivor
On the night of March 10th, 1945 Tokyo was pummeled into ash. The men, women and children in one of the world’s largest cities, crumbled under a calculated reign of fire. More civilians died that night in Tokyo than both atomic bombings combined.
A small selection of From Above is being exhibited at Gallery èf in Tokyo to commemorate the people who perished in the destruction of Tokyo. The exhibition is open until March 10th.
Embrace explores the lives of transgender and gender non-binary kids, teens, adults and elderly from different parts of the world. It will be exhibited from September 2nd-October 25th.
Embrace explores the lives of transgender and gender non-binary kids, teens, adults and elderly from different parts of the world. It will be exhibited from September 2nd-October 25th.
