Project Seaview
Along Japan’s storm-worn shores, towering seawalls stretch like scars—built to shield, yet quietly dividing. I come from a place where the sea is only beauty, not threat, and so these walls stirred something deep: awe, unease, reverence. This series is my gaze beyond the concrete—toward a sea now hidden, a silence now settled. It is about what we choose to protect, what we are willing to lose, and how we live in the shadow of nature’s will, or perhaps, the will of the gods.
During my travels along Japan’s coastline, I was struck by the constant presence of tsunami and landslide warning signs. Coming from Malaysia, where such natural threats are rare, I was both surprised and deeply affected. What stayed with me was the quiet resilience of the local people, who continue to live with the ever-present force of nature. This encounter sparked my interest in how the Japanese coexist with powers far beyond human control.
This body of work focuses on one of the most controversial responses to the 3.11 disaster: the construction of massive seawalls and breakwaters extending over 400 kilometers of coastline.
While intended to protect vulnerable communities, these towering structures have also created a profound physical and emotional divide between people and the sea. Standing before these walls, I am drawn to the tension they embody — knowing that just beyond the concrete lies the open seascape, the salty breeze, and the rhythm of waves now hidden from view.
Through this series, I invite viewers to imagine these coastlines before the seawalls — open, connected, and shaped by the rhythms of the sea. These structures, though built for protection, have altered not just the landscape, but the emotional bond between people and ocean.
Beyond physical barriers, the work reflects on how we respond to forces beyond our control. In Japan, such forces are often seen as divine — the will of the Kami-sama. The seawalls become symbols of our struggle between safety and surrender, reverence and resistance.
— Project Seaview
— November 2025
— 3.11 Densho Road, Japan
