2019 - 2024
MY IRRADIATED FRIEND
Unique c-print photograms (toy figurine, sunlight, artist's breath), metal frame
16 x 20 in. prints
My Irradiated Friends is a visual and conceptual exploration of what radiation leaves behind–on the body, in memory, and across generations. Through cameraless photographic techniques, performance, and collected artifacts, this project investigates the legacy of nuclear trauma and the ways in which invisible forces continue to shape lives long after the initial flash has faded.
As a third-generation atomic bomb survivor (hibakusha) and immigrant to the US, my work is deeply rooted in personal history. When I was born, my grandfather–who survived the bombing of Hiroshima–inspected my fingers and toes, fearing the mutations that afflicted so many descendants of survivors. That moment marked my earliest awareness of radiation as something intimate, biological, and inherited.
In childhood, I was fascinated by superheroes who gained powers through radiation. But that fantasy eventually gave way to reality: I watched my grandfather die of cancer, a slow unfolding of trauma encoded in the body. For many, nuclear weapons are abstract–flashes of destruction seen on screen. But their true consequences unfold in silence, over decades, in cells, soil, and memory.
The figures in My Irradiated Friends appear as ghostly silhouettes–mutated, radiant, and archetypal. In each sun-fused chromogenic print, questions etched into the paper ask:
“Can I Contain the Light within Me?”
“Can I Withstand the Changes to Come?”
“Can I Keep Faith in Humanity?”
“Can I Still Recognize Myself?”
“Can I be Heard as a Man?”
“Can I Resist the Anger Taking Over Me?
These phrases speak to transformation, alienation, and survival–questions often posed by fictional characters mutated by radiation, but which also echo the real psychological and physical aftermath of nuclear trauma. These are not just the questions of mythic mutants–they are the questions we ask ourselves in the face of violence, illness, and uncertainty.
2019 - 2024
MY IRRADIATED FRIENDS
Unique c-print photograms (toy figurine, sunlight, artist's breath), metal frame
16 x 20 in. prints
My Irradiated Friends is a visual and conceptual exploration of what radiation leaves behind–on the body, in memory, and across generations. Through cameraless photographic techniques, performance, and collected artifacts, this project investigates the legacy of nuclear trauma and the ways in which invisible forces continue to shape lives long after the initial flash has faded.
As a third-generation atomic bomb survivor (hibakusha) and immigrant to the US, my work is deeply rooted in personal history. When I was born, my grandfather–who survived the bombing of Hiroshima–inspected my fingers and toes, fearing the mutations that afflicted so many descendants of survivors. That moment marked my earliest awareness of radiation as something intimate, biological, and inherited.
In childhood, I was fascinated by superheroes who gained powers through radiation. But that fantasy eventually gave way to reality: I watched my grandfather die of cancer, a slow unfolding of trauma encoded in the body. For many, nuclear weapons are abstract–flashes of destruction seen on screen. But their true consequences unfold in silence, over decades, in cells, soil, and memory.
The figures in My Irradiated Friends appear as ghostly silhouettes–mutated, radiant, and archetypal. In each sun-fused chromogenic print, questions etched into the paper ask:
“Can I Contain the Light within Me?”
“Can I Withstand the Changes to Come?”
“Can I Keep Faith in Humanity?”
“Can I Still Recognize Myself?”
“Can I be Heard as a Man?”
“Can I Resist the Anger Taking Over Me?
These phrases speak to transformation, alienation, and survival–questions often posed by fictional characters mutated by radiation, but which also echo the real psychological and physical aftermath of nuclear trauma. These are not just the questions of mythic mutants–they are the questions we ask ourselves in the face of violence, illness, and uncertainty.
© 2023 by Kei Ito.
Created on Editor X.
Sungazing
2015 - Ongoing
108 of 8”x10” prints, Scroll: 12” x 150’ to 220’ depending on the edition
On August 6th 1945, at 8:15 AM, my grandfather witnessed a great tragedy that destroyed nearly everything in Hiroshima. He survived the bombing, yet he lost many of his family members from the explosion and radiation poisoning. As an activist and author, my grandfather fought against the use of nuclear weaponry throughout his life, until he too passed away from cancer when I was ten years old. I remember him saying that day in Hiroshima was like hundreds of suns lighting up the sky.
In order to express the connection between the sun and my family history, I have created 108 letter size prints and a 200 foot long scroll, made by exposing Type-C photographic paper to sunlight. The pattern on the prints/scroll corresponds to my breath. In a darkened room, I pulled the paper in front of a small aperture to expose it to the sun while inhaling, and paused when exhaling. I repeated this action until I breathed 108 times. 108 is a number with ritual significance in Japanese Buddhism; to mark the Japanese New Year, bells toll 108 times, ridding us of our evil passions and desires, and purifying our souls.
If the black parts of the print remind you of a shadow, it is the shadow of my breath, which is itself a registration of my life, a life I share with and owe to my grandfather. The mark of the atomic blast upon his life and upon his breath was passed on to me, and you can see it as the shadow of this print.