The Works of Kento Morikawa - Paris 255 x 215mm / 142 pages / 90 photographs / Hardcover Published in 2016. 33STUDIO BOOKS. ISBN 978-4-907485-04-7 / Edition 200 *Produced in 2024-2026 / Edition of 1 (Cover + Collage) サインをご希望の方は、備考欄にご記入ください。 「パリへは高校生のころ幼馴染の友人と二人、大人に誘われるがまま十日ほど学校をサボって旅をしたのが初めでした。その時が国際線に乗った最初の旅でもありました。当時憧れでも特別興味があった都市でもなかったけど、その後も何度か歩いています。昨年ドイツの旅の最中、いきなりあの時分の感覚が鮮明に蘇り、何十年も経ち昔訪れた場所を無性に写真にしたくなって渡航してみました。形(写真）にすることで、予想外の発見とこんな程度だったかと残念な気持ちとを同時に味わうこともあります。 そして、この旅の帰国当日シャルル・ド・ゴール空港を昼の便で発ち、その八時間後にあの同時多発テロが起こったことは、大阪に着き乗り継いだ南海線で知りました。その瞬間、身の毛がよだち真っ先に浮かんだのは、サン・ドニはサン・ドニでもパリ市内十区のストラスブール＝サン＝ドニ駅周辺で昼間っからズーと暇そうにたむろしていた大勢のアフリカ系の人たちのシルエットや、移民街シャトー・ドー駅前のお世話になったアラブ人宿の主人と小さな声の掃除のオバさんの顔……彼等の現在の表情を想像しました。 分らないまま、決めつけも出来ない……あれから何度も歩いてみたけどピタリと着地しません。目の当たりにしたゴミだらけの路上でこれまでのことが一寸だけ蘇り、様々な思いも溜め込んでまた新たな気分になります。そして歩き廻ってその土地の空気を封印したフィルムが残り、多くの光景が心に溜まった旅の感覚は、あの時から今も続いているようです。」（「あとがき」より） "The first time I went to Paris was when I was in high school, and I skipped school for about ten days to travel with a childhood friend, invited by adults. That was also my first trip on an international flight. At the time it wasn't a city I particularly admired or had any particular interest in, but I've walked there several times since. Last year, while traveling in Germany, the feelings I had back then suddenly came back to me vividly, and after decades had passed, I had an overwhelming urge to photograph the places I had visited so long ago, so I decided to travel there. By putting my experiences into a form (photography), I can simultaneously experience unexpected discoveries and a sense of disappointment that it wasn't all that great. On the day I was to return home from that trip, I left Charles de Gaulle Airport on a daytime flight, and I found out that the simultaneous terrorist attacks had occurred eight hours later when I arrived in Osaka and changed trains on the Nankai Line. At that moment, my hair hung heavy and I was truly chilled. The first thing that came to mind was the silhouettes of the many African people who had been hanging around, looking bored, all day long around Strasbourg-Saint-Denis station in the 10th arrondissement of Paris, and the faces of the Arab hostel owner who had taken care of me in front of Château d'Eau station in the immigrant neighborhood, and the quiet-voiced cleaning lady...I imagined their expressions today. Not understanding, I can't make any assumptions...I've walked around many times since then, but I never quite landed. Seeing the garbage-strewn streets before my eyes brought back a brief flashback to the past, and as various thoughts filled my mind, I felt anew. And as I walked around, a film was left behind that captured the atmosphere of the place, and the sense of travel, with so many scenes accumulating in my heart, seems to continue from that time to this day. (From the Afterword)