When leading clients on private Niigata photo workshops, I am sometimes asked, “Why Niigata?  What made you want to open an office here?”  It’s such a broad question, and there are many motivations that brought me to Niigata, but instead of trying to explain the reason, I simply show them.

The first place I take my curious participants is the closest beach between my traditional Japanese home, or Kominka, in Echizenhama and Niigata city.  That trip is a Niigata photo tour in and of itself.  Looking across the Sea of Japan, I introduce my friends and clients to Sado Island.  Especially at the golden hour, the sun illuminates Sado and makes it glow with a richness that contrasts the clear blue water that surrounds it.  Ryōkan, a famous Edo period poet, wrote several pieces of poetry inspired by Sado, and once my friends see it, they begin to understand my motivations for being in Niigata.  We always have time to enjoy once in a lifetime seascape photos while absorbing the grandeur that is the brightest jewel in Niigata’s crown.

The second place I lead my participants to has a view that changes during each season, but I think it is the most tranquil during spring.  I take my inquisitive guests to where the life’s blood of Japan has been planted.  There is something serene and gratifying about seeing the rice fields planted in the Niigata countryside, when the seedlings are still less than a foot tall and emerald green.  I am always chasing the light as a professional photographer, but this is a time that the sunlight is my helper for this natural landscape photo op.  In the early to mid-afternoon, the sun and clouds are reflected in the flooded fields, and everyone can witness the cool spring breezes shimmy across the wide, open fields casting ripples across the faces of the rice fields.  Some may think that the true beauty is of the rice terraces near Tokamachi, and they are amazing, but there is not simply one area of Niigata that showcases nature’s bounty, the farmer’s reward for the labor required to nourish the people of Japan.  At golden hour, instead of seeing blue sky reflected in the rice fields, I am gifted the glittering gold of the setting sun, and at the blue hour, the fields become a dusky grey reflecting the languor associated with a day’s labor in preparing and maintaining the rice fields.  Finally, as the fields fade to black as all of the light disappears at the end of the day, I get the sense that the rice fields and all of Mother Nature herself is suggesting the need for rest just as the industrious agricultural artisans lay their heads down to rise early the next day to begin the entire process again.  It’s strange how calm and fulfilled I feel having spent an entire day in the company of nature, and it’s a sensation that I want to share with as many people as possible.  This is only one of Niigata’s seasons, and each has a different appeal and character.