Photographs from a small group of islands
The often wafer thin nature of walls and the nearness of neighbours means that many Tokyoites who want to tackle a tune have to either hire a studio or haul their stuff outside — the latter of which, at least when it’s warm enough, is surprisingly popular.
But whereas drummers would rather to do their thing outside disused buildings, and baseball loving guitarists prefer bridges, those with wind instruments appear to find wooded walks by waterways more welcoming.
A sunny spring Sunday.
Some sake.
And the sensational sight and sound of a super-sized drum.
Young musicians who don’t want to bother their neighbours appear to prefer practicing by abandoned buildings, whereas older fellas it would seem are far more comfortable banging out tunes on bridges.
Either before or after a bit of baseball.
For me, abandoned buildings are there to explore and photograph, whereas for those whose neighbours aren’t all that enamoured with noise, it would seem they are much more suited,
to making music.
For the senior citizen pictured below, a sheltered area comfortably warmed by a weak spring sun offers the perfect spot for a sit down and a song or two.
And his voice, as frail as his appearance and barely audible over the background noise, is as soothing as the sunshine — maybe even more so.
It seems that no matter how big or impressive something is,
there’ll always be someone who comes along with something not only much bigger,
but also miles more impressive.
