The first photobook by Masamitsu Magome, born in 1993 and raised on images of the future from the children's magazines of Japan's high-growth years, whose town suffered liquefaction damage in the Tohoku earthquake of 2011, when reclaimed land became something like a sandbank and tilted poles and buildings were lit by the setting sun; he took up photography around then. What looks at first like a record of private relationships and the landscape around him holds light and shadow, existence and wavering quietly together: the invisible past crystallised in the present before his eyes, the weight and latent heat of days, steps towards the future. Most places are ordinary scenes where people and buildings coexist, buildings that protect and yet seem to shut people in, windows that each light a life while hiding what is particular. Asking why we photograph, he wants pictures that suggest what lies beneath a surface no camera can image, reaching for the side of the moon that cannot be seen from where we stand.