Known for his critical view of the American occupation, Tomatsu's writings articulate the tension between the "dark" prewar past and the "bright," plastic future of Japan.

"Setting sun writings" are thus the most honest form of Japanese photography. They admit that light is temporary, that beauty is always observed at the moment of its vanishing, and that the best photograph is the one you take a moment too late, when the sun has already slipped below the edge of the world, leaving only the writing—the memory—behind.

For over four decades, has traveled the globe with a large-format camera, producing his celebrated Seascapes series. These minimalist black-and-white photographs of the sea and sky are profound meditations on time, perception, and the history of the earth. Some images feature a crisp horizon dividing bright sky from dark water, while others blur the two elements into a seamless entity. Sugimoto's use of extremely long exposures—up to three hours—turns the seascape into an ethereal time capsule, predating any notion of human presence. The artist himself has said, "I'm inviting the spirits into my photography. It's an act of God". His work is not about capturing a specific sunset but about distilling the very essence of light and time itself.

The book is organized into seven distinct sections that categorize the diverse writings: Setting Sun Writings by Japanese Photographers ARTBOOK

in 2005. It is the first English-language collection of essential texts written by Japan's most influential photographers from the postwar era to the early 2000s. DAP / Distributed Art Publishers Core Concept & Structure The book, edited by Ivan Vartanian Akihiro Hatanaka Yutaka Kanbayashi

Lieko Shima, in her series Rasen Kaigan (Spiral Shore), photographs the sun after the 2011 Tohoku earthquake and tsunami. The sun in these images looks wounded, dragging its light across a landscape of debris. She writes a new chapter: the setting sun as a healer, but a hesitant one.

Hosoe’s commentaries are dramatic and visceral. He writes of the setting sun as "the drumbeat of a ritual sacrifice." When the sun sets, he suggests, the spirits of the dead ( yūrei ) ascend. His writing is physical—you can feel the heat, the sweat, and the frantic shutter clicks. Unlike Kawauchi’s peace, Hosoe’s sunset is a struggle against the encroaching dark.