Hiroto Fukuda: Art in the Shadow of Illness
Long before illness disrupted his rhythm, Hiroto Fukuda lived in near-constant pursuit of the perfect moment. Every day, regardless of exhaustion, he ventured into nature, knowing that unforgettable scenes rarely announce their arrival. He often slept in his car to maximize time in the field, investing enormous physical energy to build a body of work that would later gain the attention of Canon, Tamron, Nikkei National Geographic Japan, and the Japan Wild Bird Society. Yet, the pace he once maintained eventually took a toll. Today, Fukuda lives with numerous health challenges: heart complications, chronic fatigue, anemia, hearing loss, and pain in his limbs. Three times a week, hospital visits break up his schedule, and the physical cost of simply leaving the house is often severe. Despite this, he pushes himself to continue shooting, particularly during Hokkaido’s harsh winters when red-crowned cranes grace the snow-covered landscapes. These photographs, created at the edge of his physical limits, have garnered international acclaim and recognition.
Illness has not only altered Fukuda’s process but also deepened the emotional tone of his work. The vibrant energy of his earlier photographs has been tempered by a profound sense of quietude and reflection. Moments of movement are now balanced with spaces of calm, where the silence of nature speaks just as powerfully. This shift in focus mirrors his internal transformation. Living daily with the awareness of mortality has made each image feel like a prayer or offering. He sees his illness not as a curse, but as a gift that has sharpened his understanding of empathy, allowing him to create works that resonate with others facing similar hardships. His new ambition is to produce photographs that provide emotional comfort to those in pain, images that hold the power to heal simply by being seen. This desire has given his work a renewed purpose, transforming photography from a personal dream into a tool for shared healing.
Looking to the future, Fukuda dreams of publishing a comprehensive collection of red-crowned crane images, alongside a retrospective photo book that gathers highlights from his previous series. To realize this goal, he faces not only creative challenges but also practical ones. Medical treatment is ongoing, and he requires both surgery and a potential organ transplant, which will likely extend his recovery timeline significantly. Nevertheless, he remains hopeful. He speaks often of miracles and views each day as a gift to be used in service of art and peace. He is actively seeking sponsors and patrons who connect with his vision and wish to support his work—whether through collaboration, promotion, or acquisition. For Fukuda, every photograph is a step toward a future where art uplifts those who suffer, and where beauty reminds us all to live with kindness. His ultimate hope is that his images will help usher in a world where peace prevails and smiles are shared without fear.
