For several years, our home in Tokyo was perfectly placed—just a short bike ride from Kichijoji, a lively neighborhood known for its trendy cafes and eclectic shops. I often found myself pedaling toward nearby Inokashira Park Zoo, where my son and I would marvel at the small collection of animals and climb aboard the miniature Shinkansen that delighted twenty kids at a time. But Kichijoji’s greatest treasure lay just across the street: the sprawling municipal park where my son learned to ride his bike and catch a baseball.
All of these formative moments unfolded under the watchful eye of the Ghibli Museum, which sits nestled in that same park. I had photographed the museum many times over the years for both domestic and international publications. Each visit revealed new visual details and inspired fresh creative energy. While I wouldn't call myself a die-hard Ghibli fan, the studio’s imaginative worlds always managed to spark something inside me. So when I was offered the chance to photograph the newly opened Ghibli Park for The New York Times, I couldn’t wait to dive in.
On a clear morning, I set out with my camera in hand, eager to see what awaited beyond Tokyo. As a seasoned Japan assignment photographer, I was especially curious to capture the ways this new park brought Ghibli’s magic to life.
When I arrived, the park’s grounds were true to Ghibli form. The area was tucked into lush greenery and was alive with the whimsical architecture Ghibli is known for. Every corner of the park held a carefully crafted nod to Ghibli’s cinematic universe. From the shifting turrets of Howl’s Moving Castle to the moss-covered forests of Princess Mononoke, each location offered a glimpse into the mind of the Ghibli creators, tailor-made for travelers and culture lovers alike.
Inside Ghibli’s Grand Warehouse, the magic was immediate. It felt like stepping right into the heart of a favorite story. The large, open space had a quiet energy, filled with film sets, quirky props, and colorful dioramas. Everywhere you looked, there was something surprising: a giant airship from Laputa: Castle in the Sky, dark alleyways from Spirited Away, and an old cinema playing rare Ghibli shorts. Kids zipped around in Totoro capes, while adults admired the details—the worn texture of a doorframe, the warm glow of a lantern, and little soot sprites clinging to walls. Taking photos here was both tricky and fun, with dramatic lighting, playful angles, and endless stories to capture. It didn’t feel like a theme park—it felt like capturing moments from a dream.
By the time I returned home, my memory cards were full and my spirit even fuller. The experience wasn’t just about taking pictures; it was about exploring the connection between fantasy and reality.
Read the full story about Japan’s new Ghibli Theme Park at The New York Times.
