Of Hot Springs Resorts, A Photo Book of Onsen
I like photobooks shot at hot spring resorts.
From those documenting Japan's hot spring cure culture to those capturing the atmosphere of travel or escapism, there are surprisingly many photobooks with hot springs as their theme.
Steam, wooden inns, changing rooms, resting areas.
Even in unfamiliar places, there's a nostalgic air.
This time, I'll introduce three books: Kazuo Kitai's "Tojiba," Shoko Hashimoto's "Nishiyama Onsen," and Hitoshi Murakami's "Kumogakure Onsenyuki."
All of them are hot spring photobooks shot in monochrome, but the times they capture are subtly different.
I also love hot springs and used to photograph wild, undeveloped ones.
It was mid-winter in Akita. The road was closed due to snow, but beyond that was my destination. The accumulating snow, the odorless air, and the occasional startle from the sound of snow falling from trees. In the mountains, where I met no one, I set up my large-format camera, took photos, and then soaked in the hot spring for a rest.
Then, I heard a sound from afar, and two large foreign men, dressed for backcountry skiing, appeared from beyond the snowy mountains.
This was before the term "inbound tourism" was as widespread as it is now. I was surprised that there were hot spring enthusiasts who would come so deep into the mountains.
They probably wondered, "Why is he carrying a large-format camera and tripod all the way out here?"
“Tojiba” by Kazuo Kitai / Zen Foto Gallery
This is a record of hot spring cure resorts, mainly in Tohoku, from the 1970s, by Kazuo Kitai.
In the 1970s, Kitai frequently traveled throughout northern Japan, seeking the essence of the land. In this work, he stayed at farmhouses with hot springs, photographing the heavy labor during harvest season and the daily flow of time at the hot spring cure resorts.
In those days, mixed bathing was commonplace. People soaking in the hot water, resting, sleeping. Rather than a tourist spot, it naturally conveys that the hot spring was an extension of everyday life.
After the rice harvest was done, people would head to their familiar hot spring cure resort. There, they would meet familiar faces they had seen before, soak in the hot water, return to their rooms, and talk again. I believe such times truly existed.
Sometimes when I'm in a hot spring, I feel like singing. Perhaps it's because my body is relaxed and my spirits are lifted.
Every photo has a somewhat pastoral feel, warming the heart just by looking at them.
“Nishiyama Onsen” by Shoko Hashimoto / Zen Foto Gallery
A record of Nishiyama Onsen in 1974 by Shoko Hashimoto.
The same people gathered every year, soaking in the baths, singing, and sharing meals. Nishiyama Onsen preserved a hot spring cure culture where people stayed for extended periods.
In the evenings, the bathhouse would be overflowing with people. Some sunbathed in the morning bath, others sang, and some invited others to banquets. The atmosphere perfectly embodied the phrase "naked social gathering."
The intimacy with the people in the photos is very comforting, including the scene where someone calls out, "Photographer, sing a song!"
Similar to Kitai's "Tojiba," what is captured there is not about efficacy or tourism, but rather the very time people spent gathered around the hot spring.
“Kumogakure Onsenyuki” by Hitoshi Murakami / Visual Arts College
Among the three books, this one is the most recent, a series shot from the late 1990s to the 2000s. It features hot spring areas throughout Japan, from Hokkaido to Kagoshima.
Unlike the pastoral atmosphere of Kitai's and Hashimoto's works, Murakami's photobook, as its title suggests, has a sense of escapism.
A feeling of self-reproach at the time, or a sense of trying to distance oneself from the world. Such things seem to linger deep within the photographs.
When I go to a local public bathhouse that isn't a tourist spot, while I feel a warmth from the conversations flowing in the local dialect, I sometimes also feel like an outsider.
Murakami's photos seem to capture that loneliness and sense of distance encountered while traveling.
Although not introduced here, I have other favorite hot spring photobooks.
Yusuke Yamaya's "ONSEN MMXXIV" / flotsam books is one of them.
Hot spring photography might sound like a niche genre.
But there are photos that make your body relax a bit just by looking at them, even if you're not in the water.
The only problem is that I always end up wanting to go to a hot spring.
Looking at hot spring photobooks makes me think about places where people rest their bodies. It feels like a time slightly different from efficiency or tourism still remains there.