From the sea, the detached vision of the camera invites the viewers to a poetic observation of the periphery. Despite maritime winds, the camera stands still, unshaken, observing the transience of human conditions and the uncontrollable nature of the wild.
The people are swimming off the premises of Sendai Nuclear Power Plant in Kagoshima, the first of its kind reoperated in post-3.11 Japan.
The camera’s impersonal, mechanical view gradually turns into a sensate terrestrial moment, a realisation of the minute details of the landscape of the periphery.
Irrespective of this tangible moment, the specificities are once again blended into the minuteness of the landscape. The nuclear power plant is built on the shore of the national territory, on the edifice of modernity and capitalism.
The camera remains unshaken in defiance with the uncertainty of shakes that destroy living. The life of periphery continues with no conviction, the stillness remains silent.