The Story Behind the Tokyo Playground Photo That Took Lukasz Palka Just One Shot to Get Right
(This is the story behind the photograph—a glimpse into the moment, the process, and the vision that brought it to life.)
The best shots aren’t planned, they’re found.
This story is about a quiet walk that turned into a photo. Lukasz Palka didn’t expect anything special that night, but he carried his camera anyway. He was walking under a Tokyo highway when he saw a strange and quiet scene: an empty playground, a glowing slide, and a man sleeping at the bottom of it. He took just one photo and that was enough. Sometimes, photography is not about searching. It’s about being ready when something appears.
It’s not about gear or perfect timing. It’s about attention, instinct, and what happens when you follow a feeling instead of a plan. Lukasz shares how one strange moment still stays with him after all these years. If you’ve ever felt unsure as a photographer, this might remind you why you started.
Tokyo, 2015. A playground. One man sleeping.
One evening in 2015, Lukasz was out with his camera, finishing up a day of location scouting. He had just wrapped up near Suitengu-mae and was thinking of heading home. Most people would take the metro, but he chose to walk.
“I had been scouting around Suitengu-mae for a photography workshop and started to head home. Instead of hopping on the metro, I decided to walk to Tokyo station, which is about 20 minutes away on foot. I was expecting the route to be pretty uninteresting but thought I should check it out anyway.”
As he followed the sidewalk along a raised highway, something strange caught his eye. A small playground appeared under the road above, hidden in the shadows. One bright floodlight lit up a single slide. At the bottom of it, a man was lying still.
“I was walking along the highway overpass and eventually came upon this sad playground that has only one slide lit but a giant floodlight. And there he was, sprawled out at the base of the slide. I was so scared he might wake up, so I kept my distance, but actually I feel this works for the image.”
The whole place felt like it belonged in a dream. The heavy concrete above, the darkness around, and that one spotlight made the scene feel like a strange performance on a forgotten stage.
“This bewildering and funny scene is enhanced by the wider context. You can see the underbelly of the highway passing above, giving the impression that we are underground, and then the darkness all around adds a sense of unease. What a dismal playground!”
Lukasz stayed back and took a photo. He didn’t want to disturb the man. But it was dark, and he was using a manual lens, so he wasn’t sure if the image would come out clearly. He took another frame just in case, but the first one turned out to be the best.
“I took one shot and started to walk away, fearing the guy might wake up… I came back and took a second shot, but by then the guy had moved a bit and I framed it differently. In the end my first shot is the one you see here.”
He had a Nikon D3 with a Voigtländer 40mm f/2 lens. This setup was great for low light, but still had its limits. His camera settings were pushed close to what was possible when shooting handheld at night.
“In those days (2015) I was shooting with a Nikon D3 and a Voigtländer 40mm f/2 manual focus lens… I wanted the slide and the man to be in focus, so I opted for f/2.8 for a bit more DOF and resolution. For framing, I just kept it very simple and centered the whole scene, letting the natural contrast and fall-off of the floodlight to create a kind of vignetter or stage lighting.”
The man didn’t respond. Maybe he was asleep, or maybe he didn’t notice. Either way, the picture was made quietly, without interrupting the stillness of the moment.
“Don’t wake up!!”
Later, Lukasz included the photo in a series of images about Tokyo at night. It fit the theme well, but over time, the meaning started to fade. Now when he looks at it, he sees it differently. Not just the scene, but who he was when he took it.
“At the time I was very proud of it as it was this unique scene. It also fit well into the theme I had been working on back then: stark, neo-noir images of Tokyo street life… I suppose the strongest feeling I get from this image is the longing for those early days. The days when I didn’t really know what I was doing but I was eager and optimistic.”
He talks about how even your favorite photo can lose its magic. When you stare at something for a long time, it becomes just shapes, colors, and light.
“It’s like if you stare at something long enough or repeat a word enough times… it starts to lose meaning and is just reduced to the raw sensory input—the colors, the shapes, the sounds. So it is with this photo for me… Now I am a bit too self-aware in what I am doing… I would like to go back to the days when things like this scene just came at me, like a gift from the void.”
For him, this image is also a quiet reminder. You don’t always need a plan or a goal. Sometimes you just need to walk, stay curious, and notice what is around you.
“This image is an example of taking a chance—even a small one, such as simply taking the road less traveled. Simply stepping out there and looking around is all you need to do. The rest will just fall into place. Or it won’t… but that’s okay.”
