Consider the lives captured here at Yuishinji. Before you stands a place touched by the echoes of history. I am about to share with you a story that intertwines art, memory, and resilience in Hiroshima.
Yuishinji stands as a testament to the city’s journey. It quietly reflects the passage of time. Its story connects to the life and work of Wakaji Matsumoto. He was an artist who documented Hiroshima before its tragic fate.
Wakaji Matsumoto’s story is deeply connected to Hiroshima. In the summer of 1927, he returned to Hiroshima with his family. He opened Hiroshima Shashinkan. It was a photography studio in Naka Ward. The studio was near the Hiroshima Prefectural Industrial Promotion Hall. Today, we know it as the Atomic Bomb Dome. The Matsumoto family actually lived above the studio.
Wakaji was a busy photographer. He did studio work. He also did commercial and contract photography. His clients included the Japanese military and other businesses. His work was highly sought after. Beyond commercial work, Wakaji captured daily life in Hiroshima. He photographed the city and the surrounding countryside. These photos became invaluable. Many documented people, events and places later destroyed by the atomic bomb.
By 1929, Hiroshima thrived. It had 270,000 residents. It was a cultural and economic hub. Photography gained popularity in Japan during the 1920s. It served to record Japanese society. Wakaji embraced avant-garde styles. Surrealism and Bauhaus influences appeared in his work. His photography blended art with documentation. He created personal memorials to a city soon to face tragedy.
As Japan entered World War II, resources shifted to military needs. Wakaji closed his studio because he could not get supplies. He moved his family to his parents’ home in Jigozen. In 1945, a stray bomb destroyed Wakaji’s studio and the neighbor’s home. Luckily, his family was safe. All of Wakaji’s photographs were stored safely away from the studio.
After the atomic bomb was dropped on August 6, 1945, Wakaji and his wife Tei searched for relatives. They went near their former studio. The studio had been obliterated. They found Tei’s cousin. They put him on a cart to take him home. Sadly, he died before they reached Jigozen.
Wakaji passed away in 1965. He was seventy-six years old. Tei lived in the family home until she died at 101 in 1995. Wakaji’s photographs remained hidden until 2008. His grandson, Hitoshi Ohuchi, discovered them. Recognizing their importance, he placed them in the Hiroshima City Archives. Wakaji’s collection increased the number of existing Hiroshima photographs tenfold. Most others had been destroyed in 1945.
Yuishinji stands here. It is a silent witness. It reminds us of the past. It symbolizes resilience. It connects us to Wakaji’s work. It urges us to remember the stories etched in Hiroshima’s history. It prompts us to reflect on the power of memory.