Sachiko Kawanabe (Nagano, Japan)

When I stepped into the apple orchard for the first time, the field was covered in snow, and it glimmered in thick light. I smelled a scent of rotten apples and heard the chirping of birds. The trunks that were bent over from the weight of a full autumn bounty of apples were now covered in snow. The trunks seem to enjoy listening to the chirping of birds as the branches bent like bows occasionally shrugged off the snow that covered them.

Ever since I had a child, I felt an urge to present the concept of “the ties of life” through photography. It seemed like a simple thing to do and it was a theme that I could not escape as it shadowed me. My grandmother passed away during the two-year period when I took photographs of the apple orchard that I happened to find, by chance, in my hometown. The light that reflected off the stainless steel table that held my grandmother’s ashes at the crematory and the sunshine filtering through foliage at the apple orchard seemed to overlap as my four-year old daughter stood there, gathering the ashes. The apple orchard was always filled with dense light. Even in the winter when nothing seemed to exist, there was a sunshine that reflected on the apples that had fallen on the ground and snow beneath bit as the birds ate. The sprouts growing from the frozen branches waited quietly for the coming of spring. This place is always filled with light and shines after the darkness of night. Life could be the light.

The following winter, I entered the apple orchard and prayed for the world to be filled with lights.

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w16 x h24 cm
64 Pages
41 Images(color)
Hard cover
Full color Offset
Limited edition of 600
Published in 2015
ISBN 978-4-905052-79-1