Although I had formerly been creating and exhibiting works of a disquieting nature, somewhere along the way this began to feel not quite right. Halfheartedly shooting my photographs, I struggled and floundered until finally I decided on a change of pace, and began going through an enormous pile of photographs I had taken previously and tossed into an empty photographic paper box.
Coming across a photo of a vast expanse of ocean, its surface reflecting the dazzling light, I paused. It must have been the brightest, most boundless vista I had ever photographed. I recall it was on a drive with a friend, when we suddenly came upon this seascape. Captivated by its beauty I had taken several shots, but dissatisfied with the results, I meant to discard them. The photo is awkward but bold, and at that moment I elected to keep it. And as if exhorted by this one photograph, I sifted through and chose other rather tranquil scenes—of landscapes, children, cats, group portraits.
— Excerpt from the artist’s afterword
Despite the diverseness of Nomura’s subjects - which range from street snapshots to portraits of children, strangers, cats, to an insect crawling on his toe - and the long period of time that passed between the first (1992) and last (2011) photograph collected in A Few Memories, there is a unifying, peculiar eeriness to each of his shots. In Nomura’s photos, image noise becomes a manifestation of something deeper. People’s shapes are not clearly defined; their outlines unravel into darkness, blends with its surroundings. Always, there is a hint of an otherworldliness that tries to make itself appear in his photos. Yet there is no terror, no threat emanating from his work. The dense eeriness eliciting from his pictures is tranquil in nature.