Empty Kyoto

In his 2000 photobook Tokyo Nobody, Nakano Masataka presented a vision of world’s most populous city devoid of inhabitants. The Ginza, Shibuya Station—famous locations synonymous with crowds and congestion—were now seen deserted and still. At the turn of the 21st century, this eerie vision of Tokyo raised many questions about overpopulation, community, modernity, urbanization, and the specter of potential disasters. Nakano captured these seemingly impossible cityscapes through an assiduous practice: photographing for more than ten years in the early hours of the coldest mornings, being present with his camera and waiting, waiting—waiting for the singular moment of complete human absence. Like a nature photographer anticipating the momentary appearance of a rare species, he patiently waited for the disappearance of the landscape’s most ubiquitous denizen.

While Nakano was able to photograph moments of an uninhabited metropolis only through painstaking rigor, Daniel Sofer’s cityscapes in his book Empty Kyoto were rendered empty by once-in-a-lifetime circumstances—a global pandemic that froze borders, halted travel, and restricted movement. Renowned for its historic temples and gardens, Kyoto has in recent years become a victim of overtourism. During the pandemic, however, Sofer was able to photograph the city’s iconic sites undisturbed by the usual throngs of tourists. Aside from a few domestic travelers and locals, Sofer found himself alone to capture pristine scenes of an empty city. Although they were made possible by a catastrophe, the scenes from Empty Kyoto are not uncanny; unlike Nakano’s Tokyo, these tranquil scenes seem somehow more natural without the crowds.