“My goal is to reintroduce the topic of Japanese American incarceration not as a Japanese American story, but as a shared American legacy that continues to shape all of us.”
– Haruka Sakaguchi
On the cusp of America’s 250th anniversary, the question still remains: what does it really mean to be American? The International Center of Photography in New York has a new exhibition, The Camps America Built, which marks a first in presenting an injustice that took place during World War II that many do not know about and some would like to forget.
Conceived by documentary photographer Haruka Sakagushi, the idea came about via a proposed interview with a person whose family were incarcerated in one of the camps, and the anti-Asian hate that took place during COVID 19. Out of this came a uniquely curated group of photographs that speaks to the harsh conditions the 120,000 Japanese Americans, most of them U.S. citizens, had to endure during this period. Each photograph is vividly expressed through the eyes of both the survivors and their descendants, a reflection of why it happened, the memories and the history.
Born in Osaka, Japan and immigrating to the United States when she was 3, Sakagushi was interested in learning more about the Japanese American experience in the wake of World War II and the Attack on Pearl Harbor. She felt that it was important to examine and express how it felt to be displaced — a situation where one is stripped of their human dignity and the physical, emotional and psychological implications that one had to endure as a result.
Along the ICP Shop and surrounding the seating area of the Café, we come across two grand, photographic murals, a “before and after” display of one of the camps; the first presenting those incarcerated, showing them lined up within the camp, stricken with the faces of obvious shock and sadness. The second shows the camp as it is today: a barren desert with scattered remains, and a ghostly reminder that for so many, it constituted a grim, lonely, and desperate reality.
The viewer then comes across seven photographs — portraits of each subject posing within areas of the former camps, each sharing their thoughts and feelings through letters, transcribed and surrounding the image of the individual, making their presence both enlightening to look at and quite contemplative.
In the first photograph, entitled Henry Kaku, Descendant, Tule Lake, California we see the son of Keige Kaku, a U.S. Army enlistee who was sent to camp and later deported to Japan for not declaring his “loyalty” to the U.S. In the photograph, we see a man looking most serene and comfortable within the space he dwells in. The letter is written most lovingly, as one would understand the motivation and inspiration behind each word – a communication gap that existed between a son and his father which, for the most part, came to its conclusion through healing and understanding.
Another photograph, Nikki Nojima Louis, Former Incarceree, Minidoka, Idaho, depicts an elegant woman, formerly incarcerated and sharing the story of her life while interned in Minidoka, Idaho. She speaks with vivid detail of her surroundings and how it came to affect her as a little child, and the imagery she paints with her words surfaces with a sense of courage, resilience and determination — the acknowledgement that the past, present and future is always there.
Also, the photograph entitled Akemi Johnson, Descendant, Tule Lake, California, speaks of a granddaughter and her frustration as to why her grandfather kept his experiences so deeply hidden, a reflection of his sense of shame and guilt. Yet, the wonderful blanket of words and her calm image spreads throughout the photograph, reflecting to the viewer that all is forgiven and the need to move on is all the more important.
Other interesting and provocative items are shown throughout the space, such as the Loyalty Questionnaire, a 1943 document which asked Japanese Americans if they were “loyal” to the United States, and an installation of boxes presented next to the document, each with the words “Yes,” “No” and “Refuse to Answer” printed in the front. By lifting the handle of each box, one comes across images of the consequences the individual has to endure — outcomes most disturbing for any human.
On the other side of the gallery is a display case that details a timeline, categorized through chapters of different events during the incarceration, From the December 7 Attack on Pearl Harbor all the way to President Reagan’s signing of the Civil Liberties Act of 1988, we see combinations of vintage photographs, eyewitness accounts and government letters, presenting the viewer with an understanding of the systematic bias and loss of liberty each Japanese American had to endure — an injustice that wasn’t recognized but, in the face of everything, did take place.
Lastly, above the case stands the ten photographs of the former concentration camps, like Manzanar, as they stand today, a testament of what was — where survivors and descendants come to learn, discover, heal and seek closure to all that took place during a most turbulent period in American history.
Given the scope and detail of this quaint yet fascinating exhibition, it is certainly worth visiting and exploring.
On exhibit at ICP’s Incubator Space till May 25th. For more on the documentary, go to: https://thecampsamericabuilt.com
