The streets are dark. The stores are closed. The roller-shutters — rusty, creaky, stained — are pulled down. The paint on boards and buildings is peeling. Humans are largely absent. Only a few scattered forlorn figures are visible. In the middle of an empty road, a little girl, dressed in black and dishevelled. She is walking toward the camera, a ghostly, chilling sight.
The scene takes place in Yokosuka, Kanagawa Prefecture. But this is not the Yokosuka you may know: It is that of photographer Miyako Ishiuchi.
Born in Gunma Prefecture in 1947, Ishiuchi spent most of her childhood in the coastal city, home to a large U.S. military base since the end of World War II. She hated the place, alienated by its red-light district and much else. It is an understatement to say she was happy to leave.