The Fat Sumo Halloween Special

Posted on 29/10/2014 by Luke

My day begins with me being completely lost in Shinjuku, searching for an event called ‘Shinjuku Magic of Halloween.’ I was under the impression that the event starts with a massive street parade of people dressed in spooky costumes, but nothing of the sort appears to be happening. I give up searching and head back to the train station.

Outside Shinjuku Station, a television crew and a few people dressed up are standing in front of a big stage. With over two hundred entrances to the station, I have inadvertently stumbled upon the event I was here to see in the first place; and by the looks of it, the show is just about to start. Excellent timing as always. The lights come up, white smoke bellows from machines on either side of the stage, and the band comes out, much to the delight of the ghosts, witches, and Iron Man.

Today, I get the pleasure of seeing Anna Tsuchiya singing live. The former Kamikaze Girls actress-turned-model-turned-singer is simply amazing. I am about six rows from the front of the stage and have a great view. The music is great. The atmosphere is great. The weather is great. Anna sings two songs about Halloween in English before contractually mentioning the video game Psycho Break, the sponsor for the event.

For the third and final song, we get a little bit more from the smoke machines, and Anna sings her third single and first top-ten hit, ‘Rose’.

After singing, she thanks the crowd, and the band leaves the stage. One minute later, the entire crowd has dispersed, and I am the only one standing at the stage. So much for the Halloween parade. I follow the rest of the crowd into the train station and head back to Minowa.

The day is still warm, so I decide on a mid-afternoon bicycle ride. I cycle over the Sumida River in a straight line for ninety minutes, stopping off at the odd shrine or temple along the way. Eventually, I arrive at the Arakawa River and cross over into Edogawa. I haven’t been here before today, and I can’t find anything to do. I cycle around for a while until the sun begins to set.

After watching the sun from the bridge, it starts to cool down, so I race back to Asakusa.

Tonight, I have been invited to a party celebrating the one-year anniversary of a sumo restaurant. I have things to do first, though, so I arrive rather late; everyone is already drunk. Blind drunk. A few of my friends from the boat party are here too, and they are struggling to stand. A never-ending supply of glasses filled with a suspicious green liquid seems to be appearing from nowhere, and the familiar drinking chant of, “Yoi yoi yoisho,” makes its rounds. A sumo wrestler consumes a giant bottle of tequila in one go.

My masseur is here too; he tells me that my shoulders were the hardest he has ever had to massage in his entire career. Or at least I think that’s what he said; his slurs are somewhat difficult to decipher. I join in with the proceedings, enjoying the all-you-can-drink spread put on by the owner. Karaoke ends just as quickly as it starts, and bottles of spirits are passed around. I stay, drinking until I am dizzy, before deciding it is time to go home. As I leave, I am handed a gift bag filled with lovely souvenirs to go with my memories.

Eye Patches and Boxing Matches

Posted on 27/10/2014 by Luke

Today, I woke up to find that my apartment is shaking. Not due to an earthquake, but because of music. The A-Round festival is still ongoing, and the indoor shopping arcade near my house is hosting a live performance by ‘Ego-Wrappin”, a renowned Japanese jazz band. I suppose I better go and take a look.

Today, the arcade is free from the usual sleeping homeless individuals; they have all been replaced by small market stalls selling drinks and snacks. A stage has been erected at one end of the street, and a live band is performing. This market is usually dead, but today it has been transformed by music.

Ego-Wrappin’ originated in Osaka, and interestingly, one of the members grew up in this area. The band currently performing live on stage might be Ego-Wrappin’, but I can’t be entirely sure. Strangely, most of the members are wearing eye patches.

Some people in the crowd are wearing fancy dress costumes; Mario and Luigi are here, hanging out with some witches. A staff member comes over to me to practice his English. When I ask him the name of the band performing, he has no idea. “I’m just a staff member,” he explains. Meanwhile, three men are performing live graffiti on one of the shutter doors, and the sweet smell of toxic paint fumes fills the arcade.

Deciding to take a stroll through the market, I randomly bump into Gomez from yesterday. He is sitting and enjoying some of the cheap food from one of the small stalls, so I join him. I ask him about the area, and he tells me that horses used to walk the main street. He also mentions a very famous horse meat restaurant not far from here. A Japanese man sitting at the same table joins in our conversation about the local sights. He starts talking about the nearby red-light district, saying, “They take major credit cards; you should go.” He confides, “I want to go, but I’m an elementary school teacher, so if people find out, then my career will be over.”

The teacher eventually leaves, and Gomez goes on to explain that this shopping arcade is based on a famous character from a Japanese manga series, ‘Ashita no Joe’. One of the other main characters is an alcoholic ex-boxer called Danpei Tange. In the manga, his character wears an eye patch; at least this explains why the band is wearing them. In the story, this area is known as the slums of Tokyo; brilliant, I find out that I live in the slums. A statue of the main character, Joe, stands guard at the entrance to the arcade.

I stay and watch the music for a while; it isn’t too bad, but it really isn’t my style either. Besides, I have things to do in Shibuya. So, I decide to leave the festival and head to the train station.

In Shibuya, I head over to the housing office to pay my rent for next month. As I leave, a well-dressed young man stops me and says he wants to ask me a few questions. “Do you live in Tokyo?” he inquires. “We are looking for people for a fashion shoot, and I think you would be perfect,” he explains.
“Me?!” I respond, quite surprised. I provide him with my details: waist size, shoe size, height, and contact information before letting him take my photograph a few times.
“I will be in touch,” he tells me. I thank him, still confused, and head back to the station.

At the station, more live music is happening, and once again, the music is jazz.

Today is the Shibuya Art Festival, and there are many different events taking place throughout the day. I decide to have a little walk around Shibuya, hoping to spot some of the other artistic events happening in the area. After wandering for about twenty minutes, the only thing I see is an anti-nuclear protest march. I decide to call it a day and head back to Minowa.

On the train ride home, I sit and daydream about becoming a fashion model.

Round, Round, Get Around, I Get Around

Posted on 26/10/2014 by Luke

This weekend, a local event known as ‘A-Round,’ short for Asakusa Around, is taking place. Sixty-nine different stalls, cafes, and galleries have signed up for the event. I am fortunate enough to have been invited along for a small walking tour, hosted by my friend, local resident, and Japan expert, Gomez. We meet up at noon, and a group of five, including me, sets off on foot to explore some of the rich Asakusa history and to get a feel for some old Japanese culture.

We wander the backstreets tucked away behind Senso-ji Temple, an area slightly out of the way and not commonly visited by tourists. Gomez takes us to his favourite karaoke bar, saying, “This bar stays open until 7 a.m. I often visit here.” We walk through an area that used to be heavily populated by geisha many years ago and is now home to the geisha headquarters. Gomez tells us, “If you hang around this area at night, you might even see a real geisha!”

Our first real stop of the tour is a small leather shop. Outside, snake skins, sea lion furs, crocodile leather, and boxes of leather scraps are hanging for sale at very low costs. Like the other participating stores, this shop has a blue banner outside with the words ‘A-Round.’ All stores taking part display this sign and are each having an open day of sorts—a nice way to increase trade and boost tourism.

Inside, we are welcomed humbly, allowed to take photographs, and even given the opportunity to try a few things hands-on. Hanging from the ceiling of the shop is a huge black leather crocodile skin. The shopkeeper tells us that it’s the largest single piece of leather in Japan, measuring seven metres long. The store even breeds their own crocodiles specifically for leather production.

The next stop is a cafe called ‘Ameshin.’ The shop has been open for a little over a year and is run by artist and craftsman Shinri Tezuka. The cafe is all about candy, with candy-flavoured drinks served, and the spacious room nicely decorated with candy shaped like animals.

It turns out that the owner makes these sweet fish himself and has recently gained popularity by showcasing his craftsmanship at an aquarium in Nihonbashi. Today, just for us, he will make a fish from scratch.

He starts by rolling a ball of soft hot candy in the palms of his hands, forming it into a rough outline of a kingyo (goldfish). Next, using only his hands and a pair of scissors, Tezuka trims the candy to shape the fin. As he models the sweet, his strong concentration makes him look like he’s in a trancelike state.

This traditional Japanese process is done at some speed. After just a few minutes, the outer part of the candy has started to harden, and soon it will be impossible to shape it any further. Tezuka finishes the kingyo by painting it with a natural pigment before adding eyes to finish. “It is a beautiful kingyo made from candy. It shines as though it is alive,” he remarks.

Next, we head down a street that once was a small stream, now completely dried up. The stream used to flow from the Sumida River, running along the area behind Senso-ji Temple and beyond, toward the Yoshiwara red-light district. Gomez tells us, “Many sailors would tell their wives that they were going by boat to the temple to pray; instead, they would continue down this stream and into Yoshiwara.”

We head to the studio of the famous Japanese bag maker Kichizo Yoshida. Founded in 1935, the company is known for big brand names like ‘Porter.’ I learn that Yoshida died twenty years ago, yet he continued to make bags right up until the day he died. Today, his legacy lives on, and the birthplace of his bags has been transformed into a modern-looking gallery, juxtaposed by the original tools and machinery he used when he first started out. We meet his sister, who is taking care of business. She lets us take some photographs and gives us a chance to do some stitching. “Heart and soul into every stitch,” she says.

Next, Gomez wants to show us two very different places. The first one is a shrine full of cats.

Most shrines in Japan represent something, perhaps a different god or some superstition. This one, however, represents the harmony of marriage through the medium of felines. Maneki Neko (fortune cats) are famous across the world, but they originated right here in Taito Ward, at Imado Shrine.

The shrine is family-run, and many generations ago, they made a living from crafting fox statues from the rich clay of the Sumida River. The family also had a pet cat. One day, seeking a change from the usual foxes, they decided to make clay cats modelled in the shape of their pet. These cats are what are known today as fortune cats and are seen outside many restaurants and some small businesses, often signifying a successful future.

The cat with the black spot, I am told, is male. Nowadays, people visit this shrine to hope for prosperity in marriage. Couples visit before they are wed, buy a circular piece of wood with two fortune cats engraved on one side, write a message on the back, and attach it to a tree.

After getting married, the couples return and attach a second wooden plate to the original to seal the marriage and receive good fortune. There are so many trees and so many wooden messages hanging here that I can only assume every man and woman in Tokyo has visited this shrine and is subsequently now married.

After the shrine, we visit Matsuchiyama Shoten, a fourteen-hundred-year-old Buddhist temple that sits at the top of a large hill. The temple is so high up that it even boasts its own cable car to help people reach the top. The hill famously appeared overnight, as if by magic. Then, a huge golden dragon appeared from heaven and landed on the hill. This event is somehow connected to a certain root vegetable: the radish.

Usually, at a temple, a small donation of coins is gratefully accepted. However, here they only accept donations of radishes. The people inside the temple are worshiping radishes. You can even buy radishes at a small stall near the entrance for ¥500 each, just in case you left yours in the supermarket. I discover that the radish is a symbol of health, family harmony, and heavenly golden dragons.

Next, we wander back into Asakusa to Hatch, a small coffee shop with four floors of empty gallery space above and a lovely rooftop terrace. The gallery was supposed to be filled with paintings, but the owner got drunk and forgot to prepare. Instead of buying a coffee and admiring the artwork, we leave slightly disappointed.

Our final stop of the tour is by the Sumida River, in a large exhibition space close to the Azuma Bridge. Inside, there are many small stands, each selling different leather products. The shop that interests me the most sells leather artwork. The designer tells us that one piece of work takes three months to complete. All hand-etched using a soldering iron, he sits, burning detail into leather.

The piece above depicts the Sanja Matsuri, an annual festival held in Asakusa. His art comes with a pricey ¥300,000 tag. He’ll be waiting until the cows come home to get that kind of money …

The artist tells us he wants to spread the joy of Japan to the rest of the world. He is selling some lovely leather iPhone cases for ¥12,000; the detail is delightful, and they would make an excellent souvenir. He takes a photograph of our group, clearly humbled that we took the time to talk to him. After that, the tour concludes, and we each go our separate ways.

On my way home, I head through the area that we had walked through earlier today. A geisha in full makeup darts past me; her wooden shoes clanking on the hard pavement. I am stunned. This is actually the first time I have ever seen a practicing geisha freely wandering around. Other times I have seen them, they have been part of an event or exhibition. It appears that Gomez was right about this area.

After a few short minutes, I hear the sound of more wooden shoes on concrete and find that a second geisha is walking down the street. She moves elegantly but very fast, and although I take quite a few photographs, for some reason, they all turn out looking like a blur. Seconds after spotting her, she has floated away like an incredible ghost.

Bridges and Balloons

Posted on 24/10/2014 by Luke

Today, I head into Asakusa, to the tax-free discount shop, Don Quixote. My plan is to finally buy my own bicycle. After browsing for a while, I decide to buy one of the faster ‘red’ coloured bikes. The woman in the shop calls for an English speaker, and within five minutes, all paperwork including the bicycle registration is completed for me. I pay ¥14,324 and become the proud owner of a bright red bicycle.

I cycle over the Sumida River toward Ryogoku. There is a row of parked bicycles, each with a bright purple sticker featuring today’s date. I want to park too, but for some reason, I can’t find any attendant or any machines. I try a bicycle parking lot, but oddly, the machine doesn’t want to accept my coins. No matter how many combinations I try or how much I hammer the buttons on the machine, a Japanese voice just continually thanks me. Instead, I decide to park inconspicuously by some balloons.

Ryogoku is renowned as ‘Sumo Town’ and hosts the Edo Tokyo Museum. Here, a large sumo stadium stands tall, alongside shops specifically selling clothes for ‘larger’ individuals, and it’s common to spot many sumo wrestlers in full costume casually strolling around. I even pass by one sumo wrestler riding a bicycle, the man’s weight making the handlebars visibly strain and threaten to buckle.

The sumo stadium isn’t open, so I head into the adjacent Old Yasuda Garden. Free entry is a bonus. Originally built in 1688, the gardens have endured numerous changes. They were destroyed by an earthquake, completely remodelled, and marred by pollution from the Sumida River. They reopened in 1971, and the pond has now been designed to resemble the Japanese kanji character ‘kokoro’, meaning heart, mind, or spirit. Although I don’t see the resemblance. Ryogoku Sumo Hall sits idly in the distance, beyond a small red bridge.

I wander through the garden for a while, relishing the escape from the bustling city, before hurrying back to retrieve my bicycle. I’m worried it might get removed, and if it does, a ¥5000 retrieval fee is required, almost half the cost of the bike itself.

I check out a nearby map and notice there’s a Fireworks Museum nearby, so I head in that direction. With fate as malleable as clay, the Firework Museum is closed today—typical. I check another map and find a Stationery Museum. Crossing the bridge back over the Sumida River, I discover that all trace of the Stationery Museum has been erased. My lucky day.

I continue cycling around, passing an amusingly named cafe called ‘Nob Coffee’ and a similarly amusingly named clothes shop called ‘Very International’ before spotting the most premature Christmas decorations I have ever seen.

I found it somewhat crazy when Halloween decorations started popping up everywhere by the end of September, in every shop, bar, and restaurant. However, these Christmas decorations take early celebrations to another extreme. I remind myself that it’s still the middle of October before darting off toward another sign. I’m attempting to find something else to do today—a day that, so far, holds no real plans, meaning, or motivations.

The ‘Kokucho Time Bell’ is marked as a place of interest, about ten minutes away from my current location. Sounds interesting enough!

The bell sits unusually in the middle of a children’s play park, positioned in front of a Nichiren Buddhist temple. There’s a famous Senryu—a three-line poem with seventeen syllables—about the bell that claims, ‘The bell of Kokucho reaches as far as Nagasaki.’ Considering Nagasaki is in Kyushu, over one thousand kilometres away, I highly doubt the accuracy of the poem.

After searching intensely for places of interest, I cycle back in the direction of Asakusa. Along the way, I cross a bridge and notice a plaque with some English writing. Intrigued, I double back to check out the text:

“The Yanagibashi Bridge was first built in 1698, the present bridge was erected in 1929. There are several explanations for the origin of the name, yanagi (meaning willow) bridge. One explanation is that willow trees stood at the base of the bridge. In the 19th century this neighbourhood was a bustling red-light district known in Japanese as Gay World. Yanabashi was the subject of art and literature at that time.”

Once again, the willow is the symbol for a red-light district in Japan. The small river leading up to the bridge is dotted with numerous small boats housing little bars and restaurants. Intrigued, I decide to explore the area around the bridge, only to discover that Gay World and the red-light district have since been replaced by street after street of fashion shops.

As the night draws in, it’s time for me to head home. While cycling back, I make an exciting discovery—the light on my bicycle is powered by a gyroscope. It’s probably the most exciting thing that has happened to me all day.

Head of a Lion, Tail of a Dog

Posted on 21/10/2014 by Luke

The sun is shining, which naturally makes me feel productive. I head over to Roppongi to visit the Tokyo Midtown Award 2014. The awards are in their 7th year, and the ceremony is a design and art competition sponsored by Tokyo Midtown. Its aim is to discover and support future designers and artists. Fourteen award-winning artworks and designs are on display, all competing for the grand prize: a trophy designed and produced by the famous Japanese sculptor Kimio Tsuchiya.

The audience here are given the opportunity to vote by pushing a button on a digital display board. The display unfairly shows the number of votes each piece of art has received. Currently winning is a piece from Saki Maeda, called, “Konkan.”

“Konkan” is similar to the Japanese “inkan,” a name given to a personal seal commonly used in Japan in place of a signature. Inkan are akin to the emblems used in medieval England, stamped into wax to seal an envelope. This seemingly simple piece of art holds slightly more depth. My interpretation is that the two konkan represent the male (black) and female (red), lying together to symbolise the seal of marriage.

Among the other pieces are: Waami, a Japanese-patterned grill pan; Yoroikappa, an armored raincoat; Origami Tale, a fairy tale told using paper folding; Harmonaca, a box of harmonica-shaped sweets filled with red-bean paste; and Omikuji, a selection of Japanese fortune picks. The winner of the competition will be announced on Friday, November 7th.

My favourite piece is Toru Otsuka’s, Empty Freezer.

The reason I vote for this piece is not just for the incredible design, but also for the fitting message that accompanies it:

“Buddhism teaches of impermanence, that there is a beginning and end to all things. As long as this world is impermanent. Buddhist statues will some day fade just as disposable cups do, and may not be much different. However, Buddhist statues and disposable goods are considered separate. That is why I would like to use the same carving techniques for Buddhist statues on disposable goods, indicating my questioning of existing values.”

After browsing all the pieces vying for the prize, I step back into the sunshine and make my way to the outdoor display area. Today, an exhibition called ‘Seating Forest’ is taking place. The setting is hardly a forest; instead, it’s a collection of diverse chairs, each carrying a unique theme or artistic edge.

There are seats that take the concept of ‘musical chairs’ a bit too literally, crafted from musical instruments; sitting down causes the seat to play music. Additionally, two chairs shaped like ears are placed on opposite sides of the forest. These ears are somehow connected, allowing communication between the individuals seated in them. However, the standout chair is a wooden structure featuring a seat on a pulley, with apples hanging from above. It allows me to hoist myself up into the sky while remaining seated.

After Roppongi, I head over to Asakusa. Today, two of my friends are playing afternoon jazz music at a bar called Soultrane, named after the Coltrane album. The bar is a bit tricky to locate, but eventually, I find it, pay my ¥2000 ‘music charge,’ and take a seat. It’s tiny, with a drum kit in one corner and a grand piano in the other. Other instruments here include a double bass, a trumpet, two guitars, and a flute.

There are about ten people here, all flipping through sheet music books—a music collective and the closest thing to an open mic event I’ve found in Japan. As a song finishes, people applaud in appreciation, and then the owner/barman calls out names. If your name is called, you get up and play, even if you have no knowledge of the song. If he asks for the trumpet and you play the trumpet, you perform. After two hours of live spontaneous jazz, we all part ways.

I wander through Asakusa for a while, and head to where all the performing artists hang out. This afternoon, they are wrestling.

The four wrestlers are incredibly lively, each dressed as characters from popular television shows. Pikachu is seen taking a beating from a character resembling Goku from Dragon Ball Z. Meanwhile, a ninja stealthily moves about, brandishing ‘Kapow!’ signs in true Batman style at precisely the right moments. Adding to the chaos, a person dressed in pink manages to overpower everyone using their tail. The scene is a whirlwind of props and rapid costume changes.

Eventually, the wrestling finishes and is replaced by the spray paint space art performer, whom I’ve seen many times before. I decide to continue wandering around. As I stroll, I pass by five geishas adorned in full makeup. Soon after, the sound of drums catches my attention, prompting me to follow the noise until I arrive at Kokusai Street.

In the middle of the road, music fills the air. Today marks a festival celebrating music and dance from the Okinawa Islands. Okinawa, situated as the furthest southwest prefecture in Japan, lies directly south of Kyushu. With its tropical climate and frequent encounters with typhoons, Okinawa seems to be both an attractive and challenging place to live. Interestingly, Okinawans have a longer life expectancy than people from anywhere else in the world, attributed to their incredibly healthy diet.

There are about ten different acts from the islands, and the procession traverses the full length of the street, culminating on an outdoor stage situated on the second floor of a hotel. The music is fantastic, and the dancing is equally impressive. Some of the costumes or characters, however, are rather intimidating.

Shisa, the official mascot of the island of Okinawa, embodies a fusion of a lion and a dog and is believed to ward off evil spirits. Three shisa are present today, each seemingly more intimidating than the last. Ironically, the only spirits here that appear malevolent are these lion-dog creatures themselves.

As I watch the well-choreographed dancing and listen to the music, I notice a sign proclaiming ‘Best International Authentic Town,’ while another heralds the event’s tenth year celebration. However, the only downside to the event is the absence of stalls vending local cuisine—those dishes known for their health benefits and longevity. I’ve been curious to try the exotic ‘dragon fruit’ of Okinawa, but alas, there are neither dragons nor fruits in sight.

I stay at the festival until it ends, then head home to dream of lion dogs wrestling with giant Pokémon, all set to the music of ‘Polka Dots and Moonbeams’.

Robots, Androids, and Mechanical Oddities

Posted on 16/10/2014 by Luke

For many people in Japan, October is a time for Halloween festivities, including scary costumes, decorations, and excited children. However, for some, the most anticipated event this month involves forward chaining, service robots, degrees of freedom, and excitement akin to a child in a Halloween sweet shop. Today marks Japan Robot Week 2014, and I can’t wait to discover what it’s all about.

The event occurs biennially at the Tokyo International Exhibition Centre, known as Tokyo Big Sight. Halls one to three are packed with a wide array of exhibits, featuring a total of 480 companies across 926 booths. Here are the highlights of my day:

Kawada Industries, Inc.

Like many other companies present here, Kawada Industries focuses on creating robots designed to assist with menial tasks. A prime example is NEXTAGE, a Next Generation Industrial Robot.

NEXTAGE can be effortlessly controlled using a cutting-edge global user interface. Equipped with image recognition, stereo vision providing three-dimensional coordination, and hand cameras for precision, NEXTAGE excels in performing tasks that might be challenging for Japan’s aging population. To showcase its remarkable abilities, employees at Kawada Industries have it brewing tea and coffee all day long.

Kobayashi Laboratory

Muscle Suit is an innovative design from Kobayashi Laboratory—a wearable robot back support unit designed to assist people facing lifting difficulties. Effectively an exoskeleton, the device naturally mimics human movements.

Two models are set to hit the market soon: one weighing fifteen kilogrammes and the slightly larger model weighing thirty kilogrammes. While thirty kilogrammes might seem like a substantial weight to bear on your back, the demonstrator effortlessly lifts heavy boxes filled with bags of rice without breaking a sweat.

Tomy Company, Ltd.

I am fortunate enough to witness the Tomy Company unveiling their new toy for children. Arriving at the DeAgostini booth just before noon, I find quite a crowd already gathered. Three large cameras record every second of the action. Initially, there’s a demonstration of Robi, the build-it-yourself robot that comes with its own magazine. By purchasing the magazine each week, you receive the next part of the robot. Robi does a little dance, says “Hello” in Japanese, all while a mysterious purple cloth covers the forthcoming announcement.

After a lengthy discussion and multiple trailers displayed on various television screens, Robi is placed down, and eventually, the purple cloth covering something is removed. Finally, after a long wait, Robi Jr is revealed, but he appears frightened and doesn’t seem to behave very well at all. Initially, I wonder if this robot toy begins as a baby, and part of the enjoyment is teaching it to grow wiser and more capable, utilising some of the one-thousand pre-programmed phrases boasted by its creators.

However, all Robi Jr seems capable of doing is turning its head from side to side (accompanied by loud creaking from its mechanical parts) and moving its arms up and down in what seems like a marching tantrum. Perhaps I am missing the point. If I were a child again, I might find the prospect of owning a Robi Jr somewhat compelling. However, these emotions no longer stir within me, and I leave the exhibit feeling confused.

Atsugi Monozukuri Brand Project

What do you get when you cross pig organs, sweetfish, wires, and a pile of cardboard?
ATSUMO!

This near life-sized robot, featuring a pig’s face, is based on Ayukoro, the mascot of Kanagawa Prefecture, particularly from the city of Atsugi. A fusion of local delicacies—ayu fish and pig organs—inspired this mechanical mascot, taking on Ayukoro’s form. ATSUMO has the ability to run, speak, shake hands, and do what all other robots seem to be capable of doing, and that is of course dancing. The cardboard looking robot even has its own cardboard Carnival Cutouts.

Project Team Atom

“Grab your dreams!” is the tagline for this next exhibit, the Power Assist Hand. The team behind the project was overly welcoming and spoke superb English. I was very surprised when they invited me over to try out their product hands-on.

The Power Assist Hand is incredible. The glove mimics finger joints, aiding those who have lost the ability to use their hand. For instance, individuals suffering from hemiparesis due to a stroke find it extremely challenging to use their hand effectively, and this product offers a much-needed solution. The glove fits comfortably and is controlled remotely. With a push of a button, my hand grasps firmly; even when I try to resist, my fingers snap open and closed. The device makes picking things up and gripping objects as easy as flicking a switch. A recent study suggested that repetitive movement can help regenerate behavioural patterns in the brain. Therefore, this device could assist stroke victims in both physical recovery and mental capacity.

Daiwa House

Daiwa House has fittingly named their crawlspace inspection robot after a cat: Moogle. This feline-shaped robot is slightly more cunning, equipped with an inspection camera, LED lighting, and various types of sensors. It boasts a fully operational tail that aids its ability to climb large objects or traverse uneven terrain.

The demonstration of this robot has it climbing up stairs and crawling around, all the while projecting what it is seeing onto a large monitor. As far as remote-controlled cat tank torch camera robots go, Moogle is the best.

Aldebaran SoftBank

Most people in Japan are quite familiar with Pepper, a robot from SoftBank that appears on television almost every five minutes. Developed by Aldebaran for SoftBank, the next installation comes in the form of NAO. The tagline, ‘ASK NAO,’ is an acronym meaning Autism Solution for Kids. This creative, friendly teaching robot has been created as a way to help children learn.

I’ve been told that children with autism are often more drawn to technology. NAO has been designed to bridge the gap between technology and the human social world. Appearing slightly more polished than some of the other robots I’ve seen today, NAO boasts two cameras, an inertial measurement unit, capacitive touch sensors, freedom of movement, four directional microphones, two sonar channels for distance, and is powered by an Intel ATOM 1.6 GHz CPU. Just as I’m about to leave, the K-pop classic ‘Gangnam Style’ begins to play, and NAO joins in with a perfectly choreographed dance routine. If you have around ¥850,000 to spare, you can purchase your own NAO and use voice commands to ask it to kick a ball around, or something.

Okayama University

Tetsushi Kamegawa and his team from Okayama University are here to demonstrate their ‘As Seen on TV’ rescue robot. The robot crawls along the ground before coiling like a snake.

With a helical rolling motion, this robot exhibits the ability to tackle unusual surfaces. Equipped with a front-mounted camera, it is an excellent creation designed to locate people trapped in hard-to-reach areas during disasters. The snakelike robot can impressively climb trees and almost unassisted, crawl up vertical pipes.

Everything Else

Japan Robot Week features an incredible variety of small robots freely wandering around. There are robots randomly washing cars, others engaged in fights, and some building small metal houses. It’s quite challenging not to get distracted; there’s simply far too much to see.

Besides Robot Week, three other exhibitions are simultaneously taking place in the same halls. Vacuum 2014 focuses on vacuum technology and equipment, with cleaning robots actively removing dust. Naoko Yamazaki, a former astronaut from the Japan Aerospace Exploration Agency, is giving a lecture on vacuum-related topics. The Pan-Exhibition for Wash and Clean showcases industrial washing and cleaning machinery, featuring an exhibition by the Fine Bubbles Industry Association. Monzukuri Matching Japan, the final exhibition, includes booths highlighting additives, manufacturing technology, and surface finishing. Notably, the WAS Cutting System in this section is impressive—a machine effortlessly cutting through metal using jets of water.

If robots aren’t quite your cup of tea (although if they are, I’m sure NEXTAGE will make one for you), there’s an abundance of other technologies here to explore. From hydraulic devices designed to lift disabled people from toilets to machines aiding individuals getting in and out of hospital beds, a vast section on 3D printing techniques, an array of cutting devices, microsurgery tools, medical assistant droids, and much, much more.

Amidst the whirl of innovation and the buzz of cutting-edge tech, Japan Robot Week truly paints a vibrant canvas of tomorrow’s possibilities, leaving us all eagerly anticipating what the future holds in the realm of robotics and beyond.

The Golden Reptile

Posted on 13/10/2014 by Luke

With a new home comes a new train station. Today, I head to the nearby Minowa Station and take the Hibiya Line. At Kayabacho Station, a man runs out of the train as the doors close, trapping his foot. He falls over, smashing his face on the platform. The doors re-open, he gets up, and walks away calmly, as if it didn’t happen. The train is also full of screaming babies, which is endlessly annoying. I much prefer the calmness of the Ginza Line. I remain on the noisy train for as long as I can stand; which happens to be twelve stops later, at Hibiya.

“I’ve never been to Hibiya before, but the area seems to take its name from a train line, so I’m hopeful I’ll find something interesting here. Inside the station, the yellow area information map presents a world of endless possibilities. There’s the Passport Centre, the Imperial Hospital, or even the Diet Building. Instead, I opt to explore Hibiya Park. As I approach the park’s entrance, a group of marathon runners rushes past me. In the distance, I hear the sound of megaphones. Inside the park, a festival.

Today marks the 21st Railway Festival. On the main stage, a big yellow mascot, shaped like the front of a train, dances around energetically. Market stalls are brimming with train-based information and souvenirs. Adults form queues, eager to have their photographs taken with various images depicting trains through the ages.

A crowd of people stands silently, engrossed in taking photographs, so I head over to investigate. A man holds up a sign that reads ‘On Air.’ A complete film crew is present, recording for a channel called Ch.546. They are filming a segment focused on the railway festival, featuring what seems to be a Japanese idol displaying a remarkable enthusiasm for trains.

The bustling stalls attract a steady stream of people, children brimming with excitement, and families enjoying picnics. Despite the event being a railway festival, the only physical trains in sight are on a miniature track featuring characters like Thomas and Percy from Thomas the Tank Engine—a ride that children happily pay an overpriced fee to experience.

Deeper into the festival grounds, a queue of over a thousand people forms for a live music event. I decide to continue my stroll through the park, which turns out to be quite charming with its fountains, ponds, and well-tended gardens. After a while, feeling a bit bored, I decide to leave and make my way to Ginza. Here, I indulge in the familiar tranquillity of the Tokyo Metro Ginza Line until I eventually arrive at Ueno Station.

Today marks the 31st Kappabashi Kitchen Festival. I start my journey from Ueno towards Asakusa, walking through the bustling Kappabashi Kitchen Town. The place is crowded; too many cooks.

This area is a hub where all the kitchen shops in Japan are clustered together. It’s the primary destination for purchasing kitchen products in the country. The festival serves as an avenue for shopkeepers to sell off their summer inventory at discounted rates, making room for their winter stock. Prices have been significantly reduced, resulting in a rush of shoppers clamouring for bowls, knives, pans, and even shop signage. Meanwhile, the enticing aroma of delicious food from various small stands fills the air.

I swim through bustling crowds until I spot a group of people capturing photographs of a statue—a golden kappa.

The kappa has evolved into the official mascot of Kappabashi Street, although the reason might not be immediately apparent. One story suggests that ‘kappa’ translates to ‘raincoat’ in Japanese, as many merchants used to hang their wet raincoats out to dry on a nearby bridge. Another tale revolves around a merchant named Kappaya, who supposedly constructed a canal in the area to manage floodwater. Consequently, the street was named after him to honour his contributions. However, as time passed, these origins faded into obscurity, and now the street is simply associated with the homophonically named kappa—a mythical frog lizard—replacing historical roots with legend.

At the Asakusa end of Kappabashi Street, I make a brief stop at Cafe Byron Bay for a radio interview with the Japan FM Network, discussing vending machines. Interestingly, the interview won’t be broadcast until next month, and despite being recorded in Tokyo, it’s to be aired everywhere except here.

Turning the corner from the cafe, I’m greeted by the commencement of festivities—traditional Japanese taiko drums echoing through the air.

As I finally depart from the festival, the resonating beats of the drums linger in my ears. Heading back towards Minowa, the rain begins to fall—another typhoon approaching. Quick to act, I grab some snacks from Seven Eleven and opt to seek refuge in my apartment for the evening, bracing for the impending storm.

Willow Trees All The Way Down

Posted on 09/10/2014 by Luke

Today, after almost nineteen weeks of living in mixed dormitories, I’ve finally moved out of hostel accommodation and into an apartment in Minowa, still within Taito Ward. The weather is clear and warm, prompting me to embark on a little exploration. Just a three-minute walk from my new place, I spot a shiny silver plaque near a Shell petrol station and decide to investigate. In the corner of the forecourt, I’m greeted by the sight of a massive weeping willow tree.

The plaque informs me that the tree is named ‘Mikaeri Yanagi,’ translating to ‘looking-back willow tree.’ Its name stems from marking the entrance to Yoshiwara, a licensed red-light district that was relocated to this area in 1657. Legend has it that as people departed Yoshiwara, they would cast a sorrowful glance back at this tree, feeling painful reluctant to leave. Intrigued, I decide to take a little stroll.

Even under the bright daylight, numerous establishments have men in business suits, sporting earpieces, stationed outside, while the neon signs blaze at their brightest. As I stroll along, a grinning man asks, “Sex?” I politely shake my head and continue walking. The road is lined with smaller willow trees. After approximately ten minutes, I realise I’m in a familiar area—it’s the same road where my hostel used to be. It’s rather pleasing to discover that my new apartment is just a ten-minute walk from central Asakusa.

Deciding to make the most of my time, I hop on a train from Tawaramachi Station and make my way to Tokyo Big Sight. A friend has invited me to see his exhibition there today. However, upon arrival, I discover that the event operates on an ‘invite-only’ basis, with attendees exchanging forms for passes. Unfortunately, the only invite I received was verbal.

I decide to approach the information desk regardless and ask, “Can I see the exhibition, please?”
The young receptionist queries, “Do you have an invitation card?”
“Nope,” I reply.
“Well, you need an invitation card to enter,” she explains.
Pausing for a moment, I reach into my wallet and retrieve the business card of the friend who invited me, coincidentally the president of one of the exhibiting companies. Handing her the business card, I truthfully assert, “My friend invited me.”
She scrutinises the card for a while before saying, “Please fill out this form.” With a smile, I hand her the completed form, and in return, she hands me a laminated pass. I’m granted entry to the exhibition, completely free of charge. The power of business cards.

The exhibition is divided into two main sections. The first part highlights the advantages of health foods, particularly emphasising raw and organic foods, health supplements, enriched agricultural processes, health-beneficial rice cultivation methods, and natural seasonings aimed at enhancing taste.

On the other hand, the second part of the show delves into science and technology. This section showcases breakthrough technologies focused on food quality, packaging reduction methods, food safety and hygiene innovations, allergen test kits, and germ-preventive clothing.

Needless to say, everything is in Japanese, and I’m finding it quite challenging to understand what’s happening. The attendees seem to be either exhibitors or buyers, and they’re all dressed in suits. It’s evident that everyone here has a business card, except for me.

After swinging by my friend’s stand, I briefly consider checking out the other three halls at Tokyo Big Sight. There’s an exhibition on packaging material today, but I have a feeling it might be a tad dull – almost like this post! So, I opt to skip it and make my way back to the train station instead.

After a relaxing break at home, dusk falls, and I venture out again in search of some liveliness. Exploring a new neighbourhood calls for a trusty companion—a can of Suntory whisky highball. Nearby stands a renowned tempura restaurant, crafted from wood and steeped in history. Established in the late 1800s, it’s among the oldest in the area, evidenced by the crowd outside patiently queueing, all with hearty appetites for tempura.

I stroll for about five minutes to reach the nearby Minowa Station. The area exudes a certain liveliness that could potentially make it my new go-to spot, but unfortunately, it seems to lack bars entirely. Among the occasional izakaya, what stands out are the abundance of hair salons, more per capita than any other place I’ve visited. Continuing my wandering, I somehow find myself back amidst the neon-lit streets of Yoshiwara. The traffic lights, like the moon this evening, an appropriate red.

I swing by Seven Eleven for some food before heading home to eat. After eating, I’m completely at a loss about what to do with my rubbish. Hostels usually have just one bin for bottles and cans and another for everything else. However, my new place has seven different bins, all labelled in Japanese. I take some time to translate each one. One bin indicates it’s for ‘a leaf’, which is perfect timing as I’ve been waiting for an opportunity to dispose of my collection of leaves. Another bin, specifically for cans, confusingly instructs me to, ‘Crush the bottle as much as you can.’ Eventually, I divide the remains of my lunch into separate piles before throwing them into the appropriate bins.

I watch the usual array of Japanese television—a sports event, a sensational news report predicting the biggest typhoon hitting Tokyo this weekend, and even a game show involving pigeons. Eventually, feeling a bit bored with TV, I decide to order fifty personalised business cards. Before calling it a night, I capture a photograph of the red moon and then head to bed.

There Will Be Flood

Posted on 06/10/2014 by Luke

Typhoon Phanfone is making its miserable way toward Tokyo and is expected to arrive this evening. I can’t wait. It’s already raining today, and judging by the state of the pavement outside, it seems like it has been raining all night. To avoid getting soaked, I walk for one minute to reach the nearest station and take the somewhat aptly named Tsukuba Express Line (pronounced ‘scuba’), before transferring to the Yamanote Line at Akihabara Station.

My destination today is Meiji Shrine. The train ride takes thirty-one minutes to reach Harajuku Station. While on the train, the telescreen has taken a break from displaying the usual dull advertisements and, instead, is showing the current position of the looming typhoon.

I leave the station and make my way through the pouring rain towards Meiji Shrine.

There’s a weird festival happening called Ningyo Kanshasai, centred around setting fire to broken old toys. This unique event is a way to express gratitude to dolls and is held annually at Meiji Shrine. It originated in 1989 and this year marks its 26th anniversary. In Japan, there’s a belief that a fragment of your soul resides within your possessions. Consequently, the practice of giving used gifts isn’t very common here, as it’s believed that a part of your essence accompanies the second-hand object.

Today, this Shinto exorcism ceremony serves as a method to purify the doll, releasing the part of your soul believed to be encapsulated within the inanimate object—a means to attain a liberated spirit for a healthy mind. For a nominal fee of ¥3000, you can include your dolls in the extensive collection along with others, granting your soul its liberation. The spirit of the doll is elevated through the Haraikiyome (purification) ritual performed by the priest, involving a cleansing ceremony known as Oharai conducted on the dolls.

Last year, over 7,000 people donated a staggering 44,000 dolls for purification. The assortment of dolls is incredibly diverse, encompassing Japanese traditional dolls, Western dolls, and popular stuffed animals this year. The rain has somewhat subdued the turnout, but there’s still a plentiful display of dolls. Inside the main hall, two women in splendid costumes are conducting a captivating and beautiful ritual. According to the official website, this solemn festival is highly recommended as a must-see.

I depart just before the distribution of the ‘sacred sake.’ Despite the shelter provided by the numerous trees within Meiji Shrine, I am still soaked by the storm outside. Determined to seek refuge, I make my way across the road to Yoyogi Park, only to discover yet another event taking place.

This weekend’s event is ‘The Road of Hokkai-Food,’ a celebration dedicated to Hokkaido cuisine. Interestingly, like the previous festival, this event also commemorates its 26th year, despite appearing unrelated. Here, there are almost ninety stalls selling a variety of snacks, inexpensive meals, trinkets, cheeses, and beer. The tightly packed stalls, accompanied by the pouring rain and the tantalising aroma of food, create an energetic atmosphere akin to a lively music event.

Some of the foods on offer include, Ishikari-nabe (salmon, stewed vegetables, and tofu in a miso broth), Yakitori (grilled chicken on a stick), various types of seafood, and plenty of Sapporo beer. The only thing missing is the people; it would be fair to say the event is a complete washout. There’s a woman dressed in a smart white suit giving a talk on the stage for an event advertised as ‘Sapporo Presents …’; however, she speaks only in Japanese, and my language skills are still lacking.

I leave the festival and head over to Shibuya. Today marks the final day of an art exhibition I’ve been planning to visit, so while I’m in the area, I decide to drop by Bunkamura—a venue encompassing a concert hall, theatre, and museum. ‘Visual Deception II: Into the Future’ is a trick art exhibition focusing on shadows, silhouettes, mirror images, optical illusions, and anamorphosis. Admission costs ¥1500, providing a nice respite from the weather. The display of peculiar artwork can only be described as mind-boggling. As usual, photography is not permitted.

After the exhibition, I opt to head home before potential train cancellations. At my hostel, preventive measures have already been taken to tackle potential flooding: staff members cleaned out the drains and placed a row of bricks in front of the steps where flooding occurred last month.

Back at the hostel, I order Glastonbury Festival tickets and spend some time writing before heading out for a few drinks at a nearby bar. The rain persists. As I eventually leave the bar, I find the pavement outside flooded with rushing pools of water.

The forecast predicts the rain to persist throughout the night, intensifying at 3 a.m. as Typhoon Phanfone hits Tokyo. I doubt I’ll witness the full impact of the storm; I’ll likely be asleep by then, unless the howling wind wakes me up amidst the chaos outside.

Partly Mechanical, Hardly Human

Posted on 01/10/2014 by Luke

Today I have a meeting with a robot. I take the Tokyo Metro Ginza Line to Aoyama-itchome Station. My destination is the Honda Aoyama Building. I arrive an hour early, so I decide to wander for a bit. I head to the NHK building but it doesn’t look like it’s for tourists, so I leave. I walk the length of Aoyama Cemetery. I kill time in the park. Eventually it is 3 o’clock, robot time!

I enter the Honda cafe. The ground floor of the building features a small stage, and a display of cars and motorcycles. As I wander around, every member of staff greets me with a cheery, “Hello,” and an overly practiced smile. The Honda Aoyama Building is free of charge to enter. There is a small shop selling surprisingly cheap drinks, the coffee is just ¥200 a cup, and hot too!

I take a seat five minutes before the exhibition is scheduled to begin. I am the only person here not wearing a business suit. Although there are thirty chairs, more than half remain empty. A factory construction line, depicting the process of building a car, plays on a large screen. I eagerly await its conclusion. Finally, when it ends, a woman appears, a door opens, and a strange machine drives itself onto the centre of the stage.

The woman speaks only in Japanese, but luckily, the display screen shows English text. What I’m witnessing is a new Honda product called the ‘Uni Cub.’ This mobility device can travel at 6km/h. The machine cruises around the stage for a while before the woman giving the talk takes a seat on the device to demonstrate its capabilities.

I’m unsure of the control mechanism; she simply tilts her body in a particular direction, and the device responds by moving accordingly. It’s quite impressive, and I find myself wanting one. I snap a few photographs, but the other attendees seem less interested, probably here solely for the main event. After the Uni Cub’s display, the woman drives off the stage, vanishing into darkness through a doorway. The video screen then showcases some information about the Uni Cub. Two minutes later, ASIMO makes its appearance.

ASIMO stands for Advanced Step in Innovative MObility, a humanoid robot integrated with Artificial Intelligence. Designed to assist people, ASIMO embodies Honda’s vision of harmonious coexistence between robots and humans. A concept drawing displayed on the screen illustrates a robot helping by carrying boxes up stairs—a representation of their goal. This aligns with Honda’s advertising slogan, ‘The Power of Dreams.’ However, despite their aspirations, ‘The Power of Dreams’ doesn’t seem to extend to comfortable seating. The chair I’m in during this demonstration happens to be the most uncomfortable seat I’ve ever experienced.

ASIMO demonstrates an array of skills: dancing, balancing on one leg, performing jumps with both feet off the ground, and showcasing impressive speed—he can run fast. His walking pace reaches 7km/h, slightly swifter than the Uni Cub. Interestingly, both ASIMO and the Uni Cub are constructed using the same technology. ASIMO stands at a height of 130 centimetres and weighs merely 50 kilogrammes.

The presentation continues in Japanese, detailing Honda’s pioneering work in robotics, which commenced back in 1986. The earlier models—E1, E2, and E3—were primarily aimed at achieving human-like walking capabilities. Subsequent models, E4, E5, and E6, focused on mastering stair climbing. Gradually, a body, arms, and a head were integrated, culminating in Honda’s inaugural humanoid robot, P1. Subsequent iterations, P2 and P3, involved refining and automating various functionalities. Then, in October 2000, ASIMO made its debut, marking the pinnacle of Honda’s robotic advancements.

After additional discussions and visuals, ASIMO surprises us by showcasing its singing abilities. ASIMO’s remarkable skill in sign language communication comes to the forefront as it performs an original sign language song titled ‘Making Dreams Come True.’ A truly remarkable display of its multifaceted capabilities!

“The sky looks lovely today, The clouds flying lightly above.
I wonder, will tomorrow’s sky will [sic] be just as nice?
And how will our sky look in the future?
Let’s cherish our dreams today, and fulfil our dreams tomorrow.
Let’s combine our strength, and achieve our dreams together!”

After his song, ASIMO bids us farewell with a wave and a ‘Thank you.’ An opportunity arises for me to take a photograph alongside the humanoid robot. ASIMO stands, exhibiting human-like head movements and occasional speech. It appears that ASIMO can discern between Japanese and non-Japanese individuals. When a Japanese person approaches for a photographs, ASIMO addresses them in Japanese. However, when it’s my turn, he speaks to me in English, encouraging me to ‘Smile, smile,’ in a voice reminiscent of Pinocchio, the beloved Disney character, before counting down, ‘3 … 2 … 1 …’

The entire presentation lasted about twenty-five minutes. It was gratifying to witness the most advanced robot in existence. Following the presentation, I explore the small souvenir shop, which offers ASIMO stuffed toys, key rings, and other assorted junk.

On the train ride back to Asakusa, I think about the future of robotics. I really hope that someday in the near future, I will be cruising around on my Uni Cub with my very own ASIMO running alongside me.

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Monthly Archives: October 2014