사쿠라 울리다

The blooming of cherry blossoms in Tokyo begins at Yasukuni Shrine. There is a war museum behind the cherry blossom trees at the shrine and they are considered to be the standard for cherry blossom blooming throughout the country. Like the falling cherry blossoms, the fighter pilots who were killed in the Pacific War rest at Yasukuni Shrine. And every year, when the cherry blossoms are in full bloom, their sacrifice is commemorated with a heroic military song. 　　The logical leap between the cherry blossoms’ blooming and militarism is based on the sublimity of their beauty. This feeling of respect for ultimate beauty is an emotional sigh along with fear. It might be the same reason why Sakaguchi Ango described the cherry blossoms as fear in the short story “In The Forest, Under Cherries in Full Bloom”. 　　However, I feel fear from the cherry blossoms. Not just out of respect for their beauty but for the voices of Koreans who were killed as special forces soldiers and those of the Japanese army’s comfort women who were taken with no reason and have until this day been oppressed. This oppression via the authority of the nation is covered with the beauty of the cherry blossoms. Their voices still echo from far away and have not been heard because they have been covered by more and bigger voices. I want to do all I can to reveal the voices echoing silently from this troubled scene of intermingling memories. 　　Other than reference footage, this film was shot entirely with a smart phone. The beauty of the cherry blossoms is very special but it’s also very common to capture images of it. Carried away by the cherry blossoms, I frantically push the button on my camera and in one moment the dramatic beauty and political discourse merge into one inside a small machine.