Okurimono

Now settled in Canada for twenty years, Noriko returns to Nagasaki to clear out the house where she grew up. Among the objects that make up a life that she sorts and boxes, she comes across the letters carefully kept by her mother that will reveal things that have long remained unsaid. Her mother was a hibakusha – a survivor of the atomic bomb – and she had been corresponding with relatives of victims of the attack since 1945. As Noriko reconstructs her family's story, she picks up the stories of the other inhabitants of the peninsular town, which are inevitably intertwined with each other and with that of her mother. To the rhythm of these testimonies – made up of a few words, spoken with modesty and restraint – the images of the landscape and the vibrant, resilient nature of Nagasaki weigh heavy with the silence of those who are no longer with us. Little by little, Okurimono takes on the features of a collective memorial and, more broadly, those of a meditation full of grace and tinged with melancholy on the passing of time and the legacy we leave behind.
Mourad-Anis Moussa

Okurimono, 2024
Port d'attache, 2019
Drap contour, 2017