The Children of Chikuho (Japanese: 筑豊のこどもたち) by Ken Domon, made in December 1959 in the Chikuho coalfield of Fukuoka Prefecture and published as a photobook in January 1960, documents children in collapsing mining communities.
At this moment of postwar reconstruction, the Chikuho region—once Japan’s largest coal producer—was unraveling as national energy policy shifted from coal to oil. Pit closures, mass layoffs, and the 1959 law for displaced miners exposed widening social divides. Domon, already a central advocate of postwar realist photography, positioned his lens at the intersection of policy and lived experience, bringing to light those most affected by industrial restructuring.
The project explores several themes: critique of economic transition; the juxtaposition of innocence and hardship; and the persistence of dignity and solidarity. By focusing on children—often siblings or orphans negotiating play, work, and care—the series reframes national growth from the perspective of its most vulnerable members. The narrative of two orphan sisters makes structural change tangible at the level of a single household.
Visually, Domon relies on direct, street‑level black‑and‑white imagery. Intimate framing and low vantage points pull viewers into the children’s world, while slag heaps, alleys, and dim interiors mark the coalfield setting. Natural light and strong tonal contrasts emphasize textures—coal dust, worn fabrics, weathered surfaces—without artifice, producing an atmosphere at once stark and attentive to resilience.
Technically speaking, Domon’s “absolutely unstaged snapshot” approach privileged 35mm mobility and handheld immediacy over staged control. The book’s material form reinforced its message: printed on inexpensive newsprint in softcover, it was accessible to a mass audience, while the rough surface heightened the raw tonal quality of the images. These choices aligned aesthetics with dissemination and purpose.
Reception was swift and broad. The photobook sold widely, striking a chord with a public often unaware of such poverty amid economic growth. Critics debated its focus on children—praised for moral clarity, questioned for overlooking labor struggles—but its social impact was clear. Through reprints, exhibitions, and inclusion in surveys of Japanese photography, the series remains widely regarded as important for understanding how documentary practice in the late 1950s and early 1960s engaged with social reality.
