The kanji chosen to represent 2022 this year was “戦” (sen), meaning “battle” and “war.” While it’s true that battles filled the headlines — whether they were being waged in Ukraine, in front of the funeral for slain former Prime Minister Shinzo Abe, or on the soccer fields of Qatar — our staff and freelance photographers also managed to capture some well-deserved moments of peace. Below are some of their favorite shots of the year.
What was everyone praying for? The previous year hadn’t been as chaotic as 2020, when we were first introduced to COVID-19, but it hadn’t delivered on early optimism that things could return to a pre-pandemic normal. Borders were closed, and the omicron variant was spreading.
In a nearby pit, paper and porcelain dishes had been burned and mixed into the smoldering ash. The subject of the photograph was prodding the embers with a stick. I shot a few frames, but it was cloudy and dark at first, so I waited.
Finally, a strong wind parted the clouds, smokey pillars of light beamed through the trees and the white shide (zig-zag-shaped paper talismans) hanging around the pit danced wildly. I was able to shoot a few frames before it clouded over once again. It’s macabre, but looking at this scene, I find myself imagining the subject staring into their own grave or into the gates of the underworld left slightly ajar. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. LANCE HENDERSTEIN (@lancestein)
Fuji isn’t just a mountain, however — it’s a volcano. While it last erupted in 1707, in recent years scientists have been trying to determine how an eruption would impact nearby Tokyo and the surrounding Kanto region. In June, the National Police Agency began making full-fledged preparations for such an event. Since hearing this news, I’ve been trying to comprehend what an eruption might entail, and, as a result, Mount Fuji now looks much more formidable to me.
On that day in February, though, it was just me, Fuji and a moment of peace. I was at Enoshima Island and most everyone else had started for home. With no one around, I shot this photograph, attempting to focus on the landscape’s gradation to emphasize the fine layers that compose a vision. It may be a catastrophe in waiting, but at that moment I wanted to illustrate the calm and pure atmosphere that Fuji transmitted; a way for me to forge an allegory of our fragility. LOUISE CLAIRE WAGNER (@louise.claire.wagner)
Others at the demonstration held handmade signs that read “Stop Putin” and “Save Ukraine.” Those who didn’t have signs held flags, flowers, flyers — anything to do something. Smiles were everywhere, even on the local Ukrainians who, at the end of the march, embraced each other with tears in their eyes.
Support for Ukraine has been loud and persistent in Japan with Ukrainian residents of Tokyo finding themselves torn between returning home to be with their families and remaining here — physically safe but at great emotional cost. JOHAN BROOKS (@johanbrooks)
I was in northern Hokkaido to attempt to ski the island of Rishiri. We had arrived in Wakkanai — the northernmost city in Japan — to find the ferry timetable in ruins; all the ferries to Rishiri were canceled due to high winds and waves. My guide, Ayami Saga, looked on despondently and simply said, “Maybe tomorrow?” With a spare day on our hands we took a drive along the coast toward Cape Soya, our tiny kei (light) car buffeted by the wind.
We stopped in a natural harbor along the way, and I took this photo during one of the rare moments that day when the sun graced us with its presence, casting the boats in a warm, golden light. It turned out to be a good omen for the trip. We made it to Rishiri the next day and had five sunny days on the mountain with views all the way to Sakhalin, 100 kilometers away to the north. OSCAR BOYD (@oscar.boyd)
It wasn’t quite the same as it used to be, though. As venues and artists struggled during the pandemic, the energy shifted. Attendance numbers were lower and limited. Fans were encouraged not to cheer or sing along. Social distancing and masks rules were in place. Mimizuq gave an incredible performance with whimsical costumes and beautiful melodies, but the experience still made me feel more like an observer than a participant. And being a participant is what makes the live house experience so much fun.
That night, I came out with decent photos but a pattern of consistent energy rather than the highs and lows that I’d usually see in such a story-driven live performance. When talking with the lead vocalist, Tsubasa Mori, he mentioned that while the rules, the dynamics and the fans have changed, he hopes that a fresh start and new music will bring back the energy the audience once had. I hope so, too. ELLE HARRIS (@elle_note)
On this day, a group of university students had come with their professor to learn about the community building potential of Mitoyo. After a day of presentations by local entrepreneurs, everyone gathered at a local karaoke bar called New Shimbashi. The man singing in this photo, Yu Fujioka, is a local photographer and filmmaker. He opened the bar with his childhood friend and business partner, Soichiro Imagawa. They came up with New Shimbashi after deducing that the young people of Mitoyo needed a place to gather and socialize in the evening.
That night, Fujioka was tending bar, beaming at having so many people enjoying their visit to his hometown and his establishment in particular. In this photo, he had come out from behind the bar to sing in an impressively soulful voice as the students and others cheered him on. When I took this, he seemed briefly lost in the joy of the moment, laser lights painting him and everything in the room. It looked like a dream come true. LANCE HENDERSTEIN
I went to visit four of the islands a bit farther west from Naoshima, where art sites are only open during the autumn session. The weather was mercurial, rather dreary and cold the first day, which affects a lot of the art being that the pieces are site-specific and exposed to the air and natural light.
On Takamijima, which focused on hosting younger Japanese artists, I was incredibly moved by this 2016 installation by Kayako Nakashima from Kyoto. From the outside of an old Japanese-style house, there were what looked like glass shards sticking out of the facade, almost transparent because it was so gray out. We went in through the dark corridor and came to the main room, which was full of these sharp, angular panels positioned like they were falling inward. They seemed to glow; I thought they were powered by electricity but was told that the installation uses only natural light, which filters through the slits in the wall in this otherwise completely unlit room, moves through the acrylic material and comes out super bright to the eye. I would have loved to compare it with a sunny day. THU-HUONG HA (@whatthusee)
The American tendency to avoid the topic of death now felt lacking compared to the rituals I witnessed in Italy and Japan. I felt a sort of envy of those who had been raised with more prescriptive ways of dealing with loss. Mortality was in my thoughts, and I found myself drawn to death and mourning as subjects. On a pedestrian overpass somewhere in Setagaya Ward, Tokyo, I saw light falling on the graves in the back of this cemetery and stopped to shoot a picture or two. I stood there watching light illuminate headstones before noticing there was a man tending to the graves. He loaded up his tools and trundled his cart along the cemetery path, and I took this photo. So many lives, I thought, people with families and forgotten stories, all resting quietly beneath his feet. LANCE HENDERSTEIN
I was able to position myself between the two sides, which were each linked arm-in-arm. Everyone was dripping with sweat. Bottles of water were passed around, and substitutes for both sides were made as tiredness sets in and heatstroke threatened. A student gave an impassioned speech on a megaphone, and the police attempted to drown it out with a speech of their own. Almost as if in gesture to the battle flags of old, protesters held signs reading “No State Funeral,” and jutting out from amid the police officers were several selfie-stick mounted video cameras that surveyed the field. It was a chaotic scene to behold, but there was restraint shown by both sides, and the day eventually ended with everyone going home. JOHAN BROOKS
While Japan comfortably controlled the game for long stretches, Costa Rica scored late in the game and went on to victory, presumably dashing the Asian representative’s hopes for an unexpected run to the round of 16.
As the sports bars and pubs emptied out in a deflated atmosphere, a group of gracious Costa Rican tourists in a celebratory mood were crossing the Shibuya Scramble, enthusiastically chanting Japanese soccer songs in an attempt to rally local fans’ spirits. Upon encountering one distraught fan while passing through Hachiko Square, they attempted to console him, cheering “Nippon!” — but Japan’s loss was simply too great for him.
However, Japan’s magic hadn’t quite run out yet. Needing a win to advance out of the group stage, the Samurai Blue shocked the world for a second time with a come-from-behind victory against Spain and finished in first place in what was considered to be the toughest group of the tournament. While Japan was later eliminated in the round of 16 by Croatia after a penalty shootout, head coach Hajime Moriyasu’s squad cemented the country’s standing as a formidable competitor on the world stage. TAIDGH BARRON (@taidgher)
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