by George Nobechi
Ferry, Nagasaki Harbor 2016, by George Nobechi
I first visited the city of Nagasaki in 2016 not knowing what to expect. I had been to Hiroshima, which tends to get more press as the first city to be hit by an atomic bomb. I find Hiroshima to be a beautiful, but haunting and sobering place. I always come away from it with a sense of sadness for what humans are capable of doing to each other, and I prefer to stay in nearby Miyajima by the forest and the gentle sea to find inner peace again after I spend time there. Nagasaki, on the other hand, seems to have a way of showing us how resilient we can be, and how to rise from the ashes of overwhelming circumstances.
A History, in Brief
Nagasaki is a far western coastal city, with a population of 400,000 spread out across many inlets and bays, it is less than half the size of Hiroshima, with a famed port with waters deep enough to facilitate large ships. For two hundred years between the mid-1600s and mid-1800s, it was the only port in Japan open to foreign trade permitted by the Tokugawa shogunate. The Portuguese came not only to trade but to spread Catholicism, and many Japanese converted, resulting in a crackdown from the shogunate. Many missionaries were martyred and many converts went into hiding; the churches and monuments commemorating them are among the 23 World Heritage Sites in the area. Nagasaki’s proximity to Korea and China also resulted in those influences remaining in the architecture and culture of the city. It’s also the setting for Puccini’s opera Madama Butterfly. These international influences have created an atmosphere to this city that cannot be found elsewhere. Also located just offshore is Hashima, aka “Battleship Island”—another World Heritage site—the former coal mining hub that rises out of the sea with the ghostly silhouetted form of a battleship that gave it its nickname. The setting has been used in films such as the Bond flick Skyfall.
And that was all there before The Bomb. Eighty years ago on August 9th, clouds over the city of Kokura meant the B29 bomber carrying “Fat Man” was diverted to its secondary target. Kokura’s good luck was Nagasaki’s terrible fortune. Over the next month, there will be numerous interviews and stories from survivors that you may see in the press. They would have been children back then. In the span of one more generation, they will all be gone. It’s their story to tell; I hope we can turn away from our numerous distractions long enough to listen.
Encounters in a Resilient City
On that first visit nine years ago, I recall walking out of the atomic bomb museum, heart heavy, squinting in the bright sunlight. I couldn’t help but think of the stories of the explosive flash that felt like the sun had been dropped just above the city. I walked over to the Broken Torii at the entrance to Sanno Shrine. The shrine, located a half-mile from the hypocenter, was obliterated along with all the buildings in the area, but the torii somehow remained standing on one leg. When I encountered it, the gate was surrounded by residences. At the shrine itself, I contemplated the two ancient camphor trees that stand guard over the entrance. Their leaves and branches were blown away by the blast, but the trees still stood, and new growth emerged in a miraculous display of nature’s ability to withstand human folly. At the same time, it felt like a warning to not take this planet for granted.
Feeling hopeful, I walked down to the neighborhood around Megane-Bashi (“spectacles bridge”), the bridge that gets its name from its resemblance to a pair of glasses when the reflection in the rives is taken into account. In the river, koi swam freely. A man on the embankment sat on a stool and fed them. I watched people crossing the river via the stepping stones down at water level. Two girls came along. The older sister helped the younger one to cross. The brilliant sunshine now cast a rich, golden afternoon glow over the entire scene. I wiped away a tear and replaced it with a smile.
Going Back
This is a city that sticks in your soul. The following year, I returned with Sam Abell and a group of American photographers, and the year after that, with Arthur Meyerson and another group. We were all profoundly impacted by our time there. When we left, we took with us so much hope, inspiration and the urge within to make a difference in the world. The stunningly picturesque backdrops, the friendly people, and the slower pace of this city provided us with wonderful moments to make photographs, and even today, we carry our days there in our hearts. In a time that our world feels once again on a precipice, there is no better place to go to remember, emphatically, what we need to never repeat and what we need to hold dear.
Paying respects at the Peace Park in 2016, photographed by George’s mother Sumire
This fall, Nobechi Creative is hosting a master class workshop in Nagasaki led by veteran photographer Gerd Ludwig and supported by George Nobechi and the Nobechi Creative team.
NAGASAKI: THE ART OF STORYTELLING
September 27th - October 9th, 2025
With Gerd Ludwig