ATSUSHI FUKUSHIMA 福島あつし

In 2018, Atsushi Fukushima, who had recently left his job delivering meals to elderly people living alone, was invited by a friend to enter the world of farming. He had expected it to be “a more peaceful life”, but the daily routine of a farmer – cultivating and harvesting nearly ten kinds of vegetables each year – turned out to be unimaginably grueling. Summer in particular, when all living things burst with vitality, is a constant battle against nature in the form of weeds, insects, pests, sunlight and heat, and typhoons.

Farm work starts at 5am and continues until mid-afternoon, with every second counting. If left unharvested, the vegetables quickly rot as the temperature rises. Among periods of endless weeding and the ravages of extreme weather, there were countless moments when, at the mercy of the great forces of nature, Fukushima felt a strangely liberating sense of ease and acceptance, unlike anything he had ever experienced in his previous life in the city.

"When I found myself in a vulnerable position, overwhelmed by the immense workload, I felt for the first time that I was living on the same level as other creatures. At first, I wanted to capture in my photographs the sense of fulfillment that comes from battling nature, but I gradually came to understand that that fulfillment stemmed from the realisation that I, too, am a part of nature. This was a sensation I was only able to experience after reaching this stage of my life. I began to wonder if this world – where I’m covered in dirt and sweat, competing with other living creatures for crops – might actually be a beautiful utopia. And I began to hope that through photography, I could capture that beauty and bring it to life.”

With these thoughts, Fukushima aimed his 6x7 medium-format camera at the summer fields. He captured lush, glistening crops, his fellow labourers working alongside him, vegetables on the verge of rotting, and maggots swarming among them. By photographing everything – including himself – from a bird’s-eye view, Fukushima reveals not the binary opposition of life and death in the fields, but the very energy that encompasses both life and death. The fierce struggle unfolding under the scorching sun and the overwhelming energy that lays everything bare, captured by Fukushima, reflect the myriad phenomena existing within the small universe of the summer field that nurtures the vegetables we eat every day.