You know what I really hate?
I am not talking about the mild contempt I hold for Amsterdam's Schipol airport (has anyone ever met anymore who took a flight from there which left on time?), or the growing dislike I am nurturing for people who wear socks with sandals, but an all consuming passionate hate which is taking over my remaining few days in Japan.
Of course I am talking about Tokyo's tissue people. They are there
on every corner with their boxes of free pocket tissues, dishing them out to all and sundry. Doing the rounds in Shinjuku sometimes can be fatal. No sooner do I leave the train station then I am having tissues forced into my hands from all directions. I once counted 32 different tissue distributors outside the main station. By the time I get to where I am going I have more packets of tissues, each with some obscure Japanese advertising scrawled on them, than Imelda Marcos has shoes.
Unless of course I have a cold, in which case I suddenly become person non gratia. The other day rushing round between embassies and trying to fight off a snotty nose, I went in an active search for the tissue people. I could, of course, have dived into a convenience store and
bought a box of tissues for ¥100, but hell, why should I? The first tissue person took one look at me and with a swift dart spun round 180 degrees to give his last tissues to a micro skirted girl, the next one
blatantly ignored me and the third one I encountered took one look at my dripping nose and jumped into a taxi.
By the time I had reached Tower Records at the bottom of the Shinjuku Tissue Run I had the sorry score of zero tissues. I guess this is revenge for the time a friend and I gave all the tissues we had collected on the run to the last tissue person (who was just about to go home after exhausting her supply) outside Tower Records.
And (I am really getting fired up now) another thing. It's now getting a bit nippier in Japan and out have come the English language sweat shirts. For example, can someone please tell me what 'ICE JAZZ COMPACT
MICROWAVE', or 'GRAND URBAN POTATO' mean. Everywhere you go you see these kind of expressions plastered over the best chests in town. It drives me mad - all those long hours of trying to explain the finer points of my language to the locals and this is the best they can do. Even the thought makes me angry. I need to have a lay down now to recover.
Enjoy this month's guide to Tokyo and please feel free to email me with questions, ideas or t-shirt slogans.
October
Personally, I fancy some culture this month. One of the last Bubble Era mega-projects to come to fruition, the finishing touches have finally been put on an airy new gallery occupying the third and fourth floors of architect Kenzo Tange's Tokyo Opera City skyscraper near Shinjuku.
The third floor houses rotating exhibits, and debuts with "Releasing Senses", an ambitious, semi-successful but undeniably provocative show of four prominent installation artists: Anya Gallaccio (England), Christian Marclay (USA), Saburo Muraoka (Japan) and Martin Wade (Australia).
The fourth floor permanently houses the Terada Collection, featuring in "Selected Works from the Terada Collection: Part 1" the works of abstract painter Nambata Tatsuoki and his son Nambata Fumio, who died prematurely in 1974 at the age of 32 after establishing himself as one of Japan's most promising artists. In his brief career, which spanned a time of political and social turbulence in Japan, the younger Nambata created over 2000 watercolors, oils and drawings, creating a reputation for remarkable emotional transparency and delicacy in his works.
Tokyo Opera City Art Gallery
(Hatsudai station) through November 21st.
Hours: 12pm-8pm, 9pm Fridays and Saturdays (closed Mondays).
Admission:
Terada Collection: adults ¥300, students ¥100-200.
Both exhibitions: adults ¥1000, students ¥500-800.
Tel: 03-5353-0756.
Not weird enough? How about a traditional Japanese puppet show. Bunraku is the name commonly used for ningyo-joruri, literally puppets and storytelling. This simple name not only describes a puppet performance, but also alludes to its predecessors.
There was a long tradition of travelling storytellers who used biwa as their accompaniment. There were also travelling puppeteers. When these two art forms were joined is not exactly clear, but the beginning of what is now called Bunraku was 1684, when Takemoto Gidayu set up his own theatre in Osaka.
Bunraku theatre is colourful and emotional. It was a response to the demands of the increasingly affluent merchant class, who, though socially inferior to virtually all other classes, could afford vibrant new entertainment's. While Noh theatre praised honour and custom in its storylines, Bunraku delighted in showing conflict between private emotions and social demands.
The puppets used are large, complicated, and colourful. They are designed to show strong emotion. Main puppet characters were manipulated by on-stage puppeteers. Usually these puppeteers are covered in black hoods and costumes, but in the dezukai style, the principal manipulator does not wear a hood. For a major male character, the puppet is manipulated by three puppeteers. The principal manipulator wears high
sandals and controls the head and right arm. The second puppeteer controls the left arm and bears most of the puppet's forty-pound body weight. The third puppeteer controls the puppet's legs. In the case of
female puppets, only two puppeteers are used; the puppet's feet are hidden by a long kimono.
The star of the Bunraku play is the storyteller. With a book open in front of him, he narrates the play and reads the parts of all characters. His reading style is deliberately expressive and emotive. A biwa or shamisen traditionally accompanies the Bunraku play.
A common story, which is said to have been based on a true story that captured the public's imagination, tells the tale of a paper merchant named Jihei who falls tragically in love with a courtesan named Koharu. The title tells us the lovers' fate: "The Double Suicide at Sonezaki" (Sonezaki Shinju).
It was a social breakthrough because it told the story of contemporary commoners, and not of ancients heroes or supernatural beings. The story not only produced theatrical imitators; it also inspired a rash of young
lovers attempting immortalise their love by killing themselves.
For more info point your nose towards:
http://www.geocities.com/~cthulhu_666/
A schedule for performances can be found at:
http://candy.alacarte.co.jp
A more general article can be found at:
http://www.jnto.go.jp
The performance normally lasts about 90 minutes, and costs in the region of ¥4000. This includes simultaneous ear phone translation.
Questions?
If you want more information about this area you can email the author or check out our Asia Insiders page.
