Shigeru Ban

In a previous post, I talked about a Japanese architect and recent winner of the Pritzker prize. I learned today, that another Japanese architect has just been awarded the same prize. His name: Shigeru Ban. He is well known for his use of low-cost, recycled materials, especially for the use in constructing emergency housing. He explains in this TED talk.

Kenji Mizoguchi's Ugetsu Monogatari

Ugetsu Monogatari theatrical poster

Ugetsu Monogatari (雨月物語) or Tales of Moonlight and Rain by Ueda Akinari (上田 秋成) was first published as a collection of short stories in 1776. Set in the Sangoku period, it combines elements from Japanese and Chinese folk mythology, creating an atmosphere of the paranormal across nine distinct tales. It is a great example of Edo period literature, and is a worthwhile read; a copy of the  text can be found here. In 1953, a film loosely based on the stories was released by director Kenji Mizoguchi (溝口 健二).

The film (Link contains spoilers) borrows from several of the stories in Akinari's collection, but recombines them into a cohesive plot that follows four main characters. It retains the setting of the Sangoku period, as it explores the conflict between high ambition and a more humble desire for happiness.

A particularly apparent motif is the exchange of money. One sees this earliest in the film in the character of Ganjuro. He is a peasant with the ambition of becoming a wealthy merchant. He sincerely believes that money holds the key to luxury and desire; and at first, some might be inclined to agree with his seemingly practical approach to the matter—but I won't spoil the details, you'll have to watch the film for yourself. Perhaps this is a commentary on post-war Japanese society. The Japan of the film and in Mizoguchi's time were torn apart by war. Especially in the post-war period, there has been a perceived increase in materialism and consumerism. It is easy to see why Mizoguchi might be critical of the pursuit of wealth above all else.

As an aside, however, Ugetsu was never quite as popular in Japan as it was in the west. Many critics, such as Donald Richie, consider it one of the preeminent Japanese films, of the same caliber as Rashomon or Tokyo Story. As it happens, the cinematographer for Ugetsu—Kazuo Miyagawa (宮川 一夫)—was also the cinematographer for Rashomon, lending them similar visual styles.

Also, the film is now in the public domain, and can be viewed here. However, if you can find it (or want to order it), the Criterion Collection has released a DVD set that contains additional commentary on the film and documentary about the film maker.

読んで、ありがとう。

Haruki Murakami's Underground

On March 20, 1995—19 years ago today—members of Aum Shinrikiyo released sarin gas into the subways of Tokyo. This was the first major attack on Japan since World War II. The attack came as a great shock, as it was the first major attack in Japan since the end of World War II. It was followed by a great deal of media sensationalism, focusing mainly on Aum, and largely ignoring the victims of the attack. For this reason, author Haruki Murakami decided to embark on writing a book to correct this imbalance. In Underground: The Tokyo Gas Attack and the Japanese Psyche, he conducts interviews with the numerous survivors, telling their story, and how the attacks have gone to affect them in the following year.

Mute Beat

When you think of Japanese music, reggae is not likely the first thing that pops into your head—at least I don't think it is. Given the large market share of J-pop, influenced heavily by American popular music, it can be easy to ignore other aspects of Japanese music, stemming from different cultural influences. Indeed, reggae music in Japan has gained quite a following, with a fairly active community of musicians. The story begins in the 1970s, during the heyday of Japanese rock music, when the Pioneers  were the first reggae band to tour in Japan. In 1979, the genre hit a tipping point, when Bob Marley toured Japan, inviting several native Japanese musicians to record with him. Throughout the 1980s, Japan would produce new reggae groups, and one of the first was Mute Beat.

As a genre, reggae began in the 1960s, originating from traditional Jamaican music, such as ska. Similar to the Japanese genre of enka, reggae was frequently used as vehicle for political messages. Rastafari, then disenfranchised as part of Jamaican counterculture, used reggae to express their views, which would slowly help them gain more mainstream acceptance. Parallels exist in Japanese society, as with controversies over the treatment of native Ainu or Ryukyuan people or Zainichi Koreans. Examples of later Japanese reggae musicians, such as  U-dou and Platy or Nanjaman, come from such backgrounds.

Before them, however, came Mute Beat, founded by trumpet player Kazufumi "Echo" Kodama (小玉和文) in 1981—incidentally, the year of Bob Marley's death. Kodama had an interest in music since he was a child, stemming from an eclectic combination of Christian hymns and marching band music, among other things. Of course, upon learning of reggae, he was immediately enamored, deeming it "the music of musics." He continued to perform with Mute Beat through the mid 90s, but has since gone on to a solo career, continuing to produce works in the genre.

Among the other members of Mute Beat is Gota Yashiki (屋敷 豪太), who would also find a great deal of success as a drummer and bass player performing with acid-jazz group Simply Red. He has also busied himself with appearing with other acts such as Sinéad O'Connor, Seal, and Bryan Adams. Some of Mute Beat's music has been made available on iTunes; however, albums such as IN DUB can be found elsewhere (as on YouTube). Mute Beat maintains an official website—though it is in Japanese.

読んで、ありがとう。

Goyou Hashiguchi

Hot Spring Hotel, 1921.

A philosophical question: what is beauty? Maybe, I should be less philosophical—what I mean to ask is what is feminine beauty? A great deal of western art—for better or for worse—has been created with beautiful female subjects: the Venus de Milo or the Mona Lisa, for example. The art of Japan is no different. Such paintings (and ukiyo-e) are grouped together in a genre called bijinga (美人画)—literally, beautiful-person paintings. However, ukiyo-e has never been an art form of the wealthy and the privileged. They are woodblock prints, designed as to be affordable to the average Japanese family, and therefore much more representative of the aesthetic tastes of the Japanese people. This brings us to Goyou Hashiguchi (橋口 五葉).

Daughter in Summer Kimono, 1920

Hashiguchi is considered to be one of the masters of 20th century ukiyo-e, and is particularly well known for his bijinga prints. Two styles of print making were popular in the early 1900s: shin-hanga (新版画) and sousaku-hanga (創作版画). Sousaku-hanga simply refers to prints made completely by a single artist. That is, the image, the woodblock, and the final print are made by the same individual. This was a departure from the traditional print making process, known as the hanmoto system, which involved many artisans, at each stage of the print's creation. Shin-hanga was the style that preserved this tradition in the 20th century, and is the style that Hashiguchi worked in. Shin-hanga is the more conservative style. In some sense, this makes Hashiguchi a conservative artist.

Indeed, Hashiguchi was very interested in traditional Ukiyo-e, and was a student of the classic Edo period artists such as Utagawa Hiroshige (歌川 広重) and Kitagawa Utamaro (多川 歌麿). He began painting at the age of 19, and graduated at the top of his class from the Tokyo School

Woman Applying Powder, 1918

of Fine Arts at the age of 25. Afterward, he was commissioned to illustrate the works of various authors, including Natsume Souseki. He would steadily gain a reputation extremely high quality in the prints he created, which has continued to earn merit among collectors in the present time.

As for his portrayal of beauty, he conforms to the traditional imagery of ukiyo-e and traditional standards of beauty: women wear floral-pattern kimono, shown with whitened skin, hair pulled into a bun, etc. In keeping with the bijinga style, Hashiguchi portrays his subjects in a domestic setting. This contrasts with style of paintings meant for the gentry—seen very prominently in western art—where the subjects are artificially posed for aesthetic effect. The Japanese term for this aesthetic is iki (粋), meaning chic or stylish. It carries the connotation of not only elegance and sophistication, but also the kind of spontaneity that could be captured by snap-shot. Certainly, Hashiguchi portrays intimate situations. While these images are very

Woman Combing Her Hair, 1920

thoughtfully arranged and detailed, they have a natural appearance as if they were taken as photographs.

Hashiguchi died at the relatively young age of 41, in 1921, having supervised the completion of his final work Hot Spring Hotel (shown at the top) from his death bed. It was not printed until after his death. Just two years later, the most destructive earthquake in Japan's history destroyed most of the woodblocks used to produce his prints. In all, his works were created in a period of less than 10 years—indeed, had he lived longer, he may be remembered as one of the most prolific 20th century ukiyo-e artists. More of Hashiguchi's prints may be viewed at ukiyo-e.org—note that some of these contain nudity. However, it's artistic nudity, and not pornographic, as some ukiyo-e are (this link is decidedly NOT work safe).

 読んで、ありがとう。

Seibei Kashima

Mount Fuji from Kashiwabara, 1890.

View of Miyajima, 1890.

Before I started thinking about this piece, I started getting the feeling that I was out of good ideas as to what I could write about. I've written about music, and art, and film. I started asking myself: what else is there? And for a while, I found myself unable to answer that question! Until it hit me: photography. In the present (as in the past) photography has occupied a strange place in peoples minds. It's certainly got artistic aspects, but it also has very technical aspects. Photography is used to capture moments in a way our memories cannot, but there are also those who compose photographs for artistic reasons. At any rate, I decided to look into the history of photography in Japan, and it is certainly an interesting story. However, to keep this concise, I decided to write about Seibei Kashima—an amateur photographer who rose to prominence during the Meiji era.

Kashima was born in 1866—only a few years before emperor Meiji ascended to the throne—in Osaka, but was adopted at an early age by a family of sake brewers in Tokyo. It wouldn't be long before he took a great interest in photography. It was only in 1848 that the first

Torii at Itsukashima, 1890.

camera arrived in Japan, brought to Nagasaki by Dutch traders. However, during the Meiji era, Japan was opened to trade with the west, which brought new opportunities. When Kashima reached the age of about 19, he requested private lessons from renowned photographer Reiji Esaki. For the next year and a half he served as Esaki's assistant, during which he developed a great sense of enthusiasm for the craft. Several years later, he would work with yet Ogawa Kazumasa, who helped introduce the dry plate process to Japan, and W.K. Burton, an English engineer, who became founders of the Japan Photographic Society (日本写真会, Nihon Shashinkai)—Kashima would also become a member.

Kashima is well remembered because he was one of the first amateur photographers to rise to prominence—after all, this was still a time in which photography required equipment beyond the means of most individuals. Kashima was a member of a wealthy family, and used his wealth to pursue this particular avocation. However, he was instrumental in popularizing photographic studios in Japan, as well as the manufacturing of photographic materials in Japan, which would otherwise need to be imported at high expense.

Wetsu Kashima, 1890s.

 One particular episode in his life, for which he has become remembered, was an affair with a geisha named Ponta (ぽん太). He was married at the time, resulting in something of a scandal. The two later married, after Kashima divorced his current wife, and she took the name Wetsu Kashima (鹿嶋ゑつ). She would also go on to support the family, as Seibei was injured later in life during a photography accident—I'm afraid details are scarce as to what may have actually gone wrong.


Similar to another figure I've written about, his eccentric lifestyle earned him enough notoriety to be the subject of a short story by Mori Ougai called "Hyaku Monogatari" (百物語, A Roung of Ghost Stories). A Kindle version is available for free, if you are able to read Japanese. Unfortunately, I've been unable to track down many more photographs than are presented here, though they can be found here.

読んで、ありがとう。

Spotify Playlist, Hougaku

It should come as no surprise by now that I am a fan of Japanese music-- of music in general, for that matter. This presents me with something of a dilemma, because I feel that I could dedicate an entire blog to Japanese music, but then I won't have time to write about art and literature and other topics. So, I've gone to the trouble of creating a playlist on Spotify: Hougaku. This will allow me to share Japanese music, while keeping up my efforts on other topics. Not that I'll stop writing about music here-- this playlist consists of more mainstream types of music. Every now and then I'll write about folk or experimental/avant-garde groups and singers.