Colorizing Photos and Building Stations in VR: Two Technologies Recreating ‘Places That No Longer Exist’ and the Questions Behind Them

An AI adds color to the cheeks of a girl smiling in a black-and-white photograph. In a VR space, an avatar passes through the ticket gate of an unfinished station. Both are attempts to digitally resurrect “places that no longer exist”—yet the motivations behind these efforts are entirely different.

The “Unfreezing Memories” exhibition, held at Fukuyahachobori Main Store since August 13, and the “Virtual Hiroshima Station 2.u” newly released on VRChat by JR West Japan, both originate from the same land of Hiroshima, but one reaches into the past while the other extends into the future. When viewed side by side, the question that emerges is not “What do we recreate with technology?” but rather “For whom and how do we make things easier?”

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“Unfreezing Memories” Exhibition—When Colors Are Added, Other People’s Memories Become “My Own”

“Unfreezing Memories” is a project that uses AI technology and human hands to colorize black-and-white photographs taken before and after the atomic bombing, bringing the daily lives of the people depicted into the present. Coordinated with the film “Unfreezing Memories,” directed by Anju Niwata, who has been involved in this initiative since her time at the University of Tokyo, the Fukuyahachobori Main Store showcases around 30 colorized photographs.

The core mechanism of this project is somewhat unique. The AI first estimates the overall color tone of the photograph. However, it does not stop there. Interviews with atomic bomb survivors and their families—”What color was this kimono?” “What color did the water in this river appear?”—are layered in, allowing human memory to correct the colors. Through the back-and-forth of technology and testimony, a single photograph is completed. In other words, the process of colorization itself becomes an act of memory inheritance.

Black-and-white photographs tend to be perceived as “historical documents,” creating a distance from the viewer. The monochrome format inherently gives the viewer an unconscious frame of “this is an event from a distant past.” When colors are added, that frame loosens slightly. The brown of the wooden house’s pillars, the patterns on the child’s clothing, the blue of the sky—at the moment these details become visible, the person in the photograph transforms from “a stranger” to “someone who lived at the same time as me.”

In previous interviews, Niwata has mentioned a moment when a survivor looked at a colorized photograph and said, “This person has come back.” It was not technology that revived the memory. Rather, memory was poured into the technology, and the photograph once again became “someone’s beloved person”—the order of this process is crucial.

With the 80th anniversary of the bombing approaching next year, the number of individuals who can testify is decreasing year by year. As of the end of March 2024, approximately 106,000 people hold health cards for atomic bomb survivors in Hiroshima, with an average age exceeding 85. There is a limit to the “time we can listen.” The urgency of this project arises not from technological advancement, but from the finite nature of human time.

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Virtual Hiroshima Station 2.u—Designing an Experience of “Places That Do Not Yet Exist”

On the other hand, the “Virtual Hiroshima Station 2.u” released by JR West Japan on VRChat stands on an entirely different timeline.

The real Hiroshima Station is undergoing a large-scale renovation aimed for completion in the spring of 2025. The redevelopment plan, which includes the integration of a streetcar station building, is a project that will fundamentally change the urban structure of Hiroshima City. The virtual Hiroshima Station is an attempt to construct this “not yet completed station” in a VR space ahead of time, allowing users to experience it.

In the large-scale renovation implemented in 2024, in addition to the opening of new areas, interactive features such as pen tools and streaming players were added. Users can walk around the station with their avatars, write messages on the walls, and converse with other users. Since it utilizes the existing platform of VRChat, there is no need to install a dedicated app, and it can be accessed immediately with compatible devices such as the Meta Quest series.

It is noteworthy that this virtual station is not intended to “preserve the past Hiroshima Station.” The goal is to allow users to experience the appearance of the station after the renovation in advance, delivering interest in the city of Hiroshima beyond physical distances—essentially designed to provide a “future experience” ahead of time.

In recent years, JR West Japan has actively developed digital initiatives in the context of MaaS and tourism DX. The virtual Hiroshima Station is part of this continuum, revealing a structure in which the railway company is attempting to create not only “movement” but also “motivation for movement.” Those who walk through the virtual Hiroshima Station are likely to be designed to visit Hiroshima in reality.

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Different Directions of the Same “Recreation”

When comparing the two projects, the surface of the technology appears remarkably similar. Both visualize “places that are no longer here” using digital technology. Both originate from Hiroshima. Both aim to deliver experiences to those who are not physically present.

However, the directions in which they reach out are entirely opposite.

“Unfreezing Memories” reaches out toward the past. It restores color to the faces of those we can no longer meet and brings the streets we can no longer walk before our eyes. The ease that this technology provides is the earnestness of those who wish to convey but cannot fully express and the distance felt by future generations who wish to imagine but cannot fully envision.

The virtual Hiroshima Station reaches out toward the future. It allows users to walk through spaces that do not yet exist, generating the motivation to “want to go there.” The ease that this technology provides is the barrier to access for those who cannot visit Hiroshima due to physical distance or limitations, as well as the design costs of creating an “entry point of interest” for the railway company.

—In other words, embedded within the same term “recreation” is a fundamentally different structure of “who is made easier.”

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The Urgency Behind Each Technology

Another difference that cannot be overlooked is the nature of the urgency regarding time.

“Unfreezing Memories” is urgent because the witnesses will disappear. If those who hold the memory of color are gone, the means to verify the colors estimated by AI will be lost. The time limit for this project is determined not by the lifespan of the technology but by human lifespan.

The urgency of the virtual Hiroshima Station is driven by the schedule of the renovation project. It aims to cultivate interest in the virtual space before the completion of the station building, leading to customer attraction at the time of opening. The time limit here is dictated by the business plan.

This is not a matter of which “urgency” is heavier. Rather, the source of power driving the technology—whether it is “the finiteness of human life” or “the timetable of the project”—completely changes the texture of the project. Failing to recognize this difference and lumping everything under “digital recreation” risks overlooking something important.

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Future Points of Interest—The Possibility of Intersection Between the Two Attempts

In the future, if there is a moment when these two approaches intersect, it might be an attempt to “reconstruct the streets of Hiroshima before the bombing in three dimensions within a VR space.” A project to recreate the pre-bombing city in VR is already underway in Nagasaki. Technically, it lies along the same extension.

However, what is questioned there is not the accuracy of the technology, but rather the ethical design of “whose memory is being recreated by whom, and under what responsibility.” The careful procedure of correcting AI-estimated colors with testimony in “Unfreezing Memories” serves as one ethical response to the handling of memory. As the freedom of the VR space increases, the value of that caution grows.

How digital technology handles the layered temporality of Hiroshima—memories from 80 years ago and the new station to be completed next year—will reveal the future of the relationship between technology and humanity.

Both projects reach out to “places that no longer exist.” However, one hand is searching for the warmth of those we can no longer meet.