As you stroll through the streets of Tachikawa, it’s impossible not to encounter art. You can find art tucked in hidden corners and scattered across facades, quietly waiting to be noticed. Tracing the history of how art came to spread through this city leads us to a series of five books titled “From the Town”, published between 1976 and 1988. These volumes are living records, filled with prose, sketches, and photographs by artists of the era. Within their pages, one can sense the inspirations, philosophies, peoples’ lives, and creative processes of those who walked those same streets decades ago.

Poetic moments are hidden within the urban landscape, along with spontaneous exchanges on street corners, and creative sparks born from mundane routines. These fragments are captured with tenderness, and beautiful anecdotes. They are proof that art in Tachikawa did not emerge as mere ornamentation, but rather evolved hand-in-hand with the city’s memory and cultural heartbeat.

The publisher of “From the Town” was Shigeo Iwasaki—businessperson, gallery owner, and a figure deeply rooted in the Tachikawa community. In the beloved local volume “The Story of Tachikawa Airfield”, which documents nearly 60 years of life surrounding the airfield, Iwasaki is described as “a cultural person, rather than a businessman”—a man who believed that beautifying a city was synonymous with enriching life itself. Through his gallery and community efforts, he gave form to that conviction.

Note: “The Story of Tachikawa Airfield” (Keyaki Publishing, 1987) is a compilation of testimonies from those who lived in the city and alongside the airfield. It traces their experiences from the airfield’s opening in 1922 through its transition and eventual closure in the 1980s. Spanning more than half a century, it captures how the history of a place becomes inseparable from the lives of its people.

In the afterword to “From the Town”, Iwasaki writes that a city is not merely a physical space, but a stage where the drama of daily life unfolds—through small routines, casual meetings, or a moment of walking alone. When asked about the purpose behind publishing the volumes, he admitted with characteristic humility, “People often ask me why I’m doing this. I usually give an uncertain answer—maybe it’s just my hobby. But once someone told me the truth to my face: ‘You’re pulling everyone in because you couldn’t do it alone.’” His words reveal a quiet generosity. Rather than taking center stage, Iwasaki positioned himself as an equal among creators, offering sincere support and fostering a space where art and community could grow side by side.

Throughout his life, he opened and reopened two galleries in Tachikawa—the Tachikawa Building Gallery and Shiki Gallery (Four Seasons Gallery). Each time urban development forced one to close, he founded another, never letting the flame of art go out. In 1994, he opened Court Gallery Kunitachi near Kunitachi Station—a space that would become the culmination of his lifelong work. The building, designed with careful opulence and uncompromising structural integrity, embodied new potential for what art spaces could be.

Since 2001, his daughter, Keiko Waida, has served as both owner and curator. Keiko reflects that her father’s decision to enter the gallery world may have stemmed not from a calculated business interest, but from being deeply moved by the beauty and depth of painting itself. For Iwasaki, whose greatest joy was found in human connection through art.  A gallery was never merely a venue for display—it was a space that brought works and viewers together, and artists and society into quiet dialogue. He was drawn not only to the artworks, but to the life stories behind them, and supported the artists with heartfelt conviction.

Keiko says, “My father loved literature. Through books, he encountered countless worlds, and he was captivated by the power of poetry and prose. Naturally, his interest expanded to painting. I think he felt that visual art, much like literature, had the ability to hold emotion, to tell stories. To him, painting was another form of language—wordless, but no less expressive.”

No Right Answer: The Infinite Possibilities of Art

What guides the selection of works is not an academic framework, but rather the strength of connection with the artist, the intuition of the staff, and, most importantly, whether Keiko and her team feel something—a quiet resonance, a sense of “liking” the art in the truest sense.

Keiko reflects, “An art gallery isn’t simply a place to view works. It’s where art lovers gather and unexpected encounters happen. Speaking with artists is deeply stimulating for me. They create something from nothing, trusting their own sense and expressing it fearlessly. It feels like weaving a new story together.”

In the world of art, there are no definitive answers—everything is fluid, open-ended, and full of possibilities. Engaging with artists and their works expands her perspective, enriching the way she sees the world.

She finds herself drawn to works that evoke softness, that feel colorful rather than monochrome—art that sparks a new kind of sensation. Even now, she clearly remembers the wonder and delight she felt as a child when her parents took her to galleries and museums, and she encountered unfamiliar forms of expression for the first time. The surprise of it, the emotional impact—it left a lasting impression.

“The art world is becoming more diverse, and new perspectives are emerging all the time. I’m excited to see what kind of expression will come next,” she says. “There was a time when the art scene felt predominantly male, but in recent years, more and more women artists are stepping into the light. The perspectives that were once overlooked are now beginning to be seen.”

Public Art: A Space to Reflect

The bronze nude, located between the north exit of Tachikawa Station and the Isetan department store, stands beneath the tracks of the Tama Monorail. Iwasaki earnestly persuaded the Tachikawa Rotary Club to share in his vision and placed the sculpture there during his lifetime. Originally installed in the station plaza, the statue was later relocated to its current position beneath the monorail. There it remains not merely as ornament but as a quiet witness as Keiko believes.

“Art brings a sense of ma—a space to breathe—into otherwise sterile environments. It helps us reconnect with a softer, more grounded sense of self. Some might wonder why a nude statue stands here. In the rush of daily life, when we feel lost, encountering art—quiet, unapologetic, human—can offer a moment of tenderness. Like in many cities around the world, I hope art becomes something that simply belongs to everyday life. Something that gently links one heart to another. In today’s world, where everyone seems pressed for time, I think the ability of art to offer a shared moment is more precious than ever.”

For Keiko, Court Gallery Kunitachi is more than a workplace—it is home. “There are times when I feel more at peace here than I do at home. This gallery gives me a sense of returning to myself. I want to keep honoring those moments—continuing to face each artist and their work with care. I also want to share the quiet power of art with as many people as I can.”

About Kunitachi

Kunitachi developed into a college town after Hitotsubashi University, a prominent public university, relocated from the city center in the early Showa period (1926-1989). The main street extending south from Kunitachi Station is called Daigaku-dori (university avenue) and leads to Hitotsubashi University. This street is also renowned for its cherry blossoms, with approximately 200 trees lining the avenue. Kunitachi was cherished by writer Hitomi Yamaguchi and musicians Kiyoshiro Imawano and Ryuichi Sakamoto among other well-known artists and writers.

Special thanks to Tachikawa City Library and Tachikawa City Community Culture Division for their research cooperation.

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