ーNow, questions to the land and the lightー
November 5th – 28th, 2014
A modest young man moderately plays with light and takes photos in a humble land.
Today, three and a half years after the Great East Japan Earthquake, the desperate voices have begun to die down. Within that atmosphere, a sense of modesty as perceived from Nojiri Hiroyuki’s photos allowed me to feel an oddly refreshing breeze, while also being comforted by the hushed sense of his subtle light.
It seems as if he were reticently watering a tiny bud with a gentle gaze. This is a selfless, innocent act to simply water a bud; it is not as arduous as raising a large tree, nor having a wild wish or a big prayer. It is being submissive toward the spiral of life and death. And on such water, one perceives the twinkling of light.
The earth is where human activities take place and where we return to. The sun radiantly pours on the earth and nourishes our activities. If our activities are seen as beautiful, then the young artist’s act to innocently water a bud is indeed precious. And the light that shines upon us is just as precious.
Without the existence of light, there is nothing or no one to long for.
This notion has helped me feel a sense of purity, while also allowing me to be oblivious of my impure natures.
One should not trample on an angelic flower blooming in a bustling city. Why not? Simply because it is alive. It is being slightly trusting toward what lies before us.
I was brought back to being my own self again as I gave thought to Nojiri’s photos: the meticulous gathering of light; the wind that glows and the light that gives off a fragrance; and the pureness of light and the earth.
Kurenboh