Paint and Gunpowder

Posted on 29/12/2014 by Luke

The four of us from last night absorb a new person into our group, a guy called Josh. We head out on foot toward Ueno Park. Today, the National Museum of Western Art is having a free admission day, and despite being in Japan, we consider it worth a look. We stroll inside and are asked to show our tickets. “Free admission day,” I tell the lady.
“You still need to get a ticket,” she informs me. We head out of the museum and to the ticket office. We ask for five tickets, and hand over no money before heading back inside and handing over the tickets to the lady. A rather trivial exercise.

The Museum of Western Art is the primary institution of its kind in Japan, emphasising paintings with a few sculptures thrown in for good measure. The museum is adorned with an abundance of macabre Baroque works, where death and torture seem to be popular themes. Amidst the horror, notable pieces include ‘The Last Supper’ painted by Marten de Vos, Vincent van Gogh’s ‘Roses’, and a rather disappointing collection of Claude Monet paintings. Not one to truly appreciate art, I find that Monet’s work looks terrible up close, especially ‘Water Lilies’, which, in my opinion, looks plain awful.

My favourite piece on display is Pablo Picasso’s ‘Couple’. Abstract expressionism has always been a preference of mine; I’ll take this over a bowl of fruit or a basket of flowers any day. Picasso painted this incredible piece at eighty-eight years old.

We leave the museum and take a Yamanote Line train from Ueno to Ikebukuro. Outside the station, we need to head east. Josh turns out to be well-prepared, pulling out an actual compass and casually guiding us in the direction of east. This earns him the nickname ‘Compass Josh’ for the rest of the day, and he seems to take to the idea quite fondly.

The reason we are here is to visit a shop run by a company that has faced criticism for its practices, including accusations of contributing to infant mortality in underdeveloped countries due to its reluctance to spend extra profit on proper labelling for its baby milk formula. The shop sells a specific type of confectionery that is hugely popular in Japan. This two-fingered chocolate-covered wafer bar confection is available in many remarkable flavours, such as wasabi, strawberry cheesecake, and sakura.

While the others queue for their chocolate, I wander around outside and admire the street art.

We head to a small coffee shop before making our way back to the train station. On the platform, two men are fighting. One guy stands up and walks away, his face dripping with blood, his eyes bruised. This is the first time I witness violence like this in Japan, and it comes as a bit of a shock.

I head home for a while to prepare for a performance this evening before meeting the others in Odaiba. Compass Josh’s partner, Jessica, has joined us, expanding our group to six. We explore the giant statue of Gundam before settling in the food court of Diver City, enjoying overpriced wine in undersized glasses. Outside Diver City, an extraordinary bus stop catches my eye, begging to be photographed.

Tonight in Odaiba, a special fireworks display is scheduled for 7 p.m. We wander around the area, with the evening darkness stolen by extravagant illuminations. There’s a feeling of forgotten Christmas lights here, and decorations that will likely remain year-round. Trees glisten, Tokyo Tower in the distance shines orange, and the Rainbow Bridge is bathed in a spectrum of light from red to violet.

We position ourselves on the balcony of the Decks building, a vast shopping mall offering a spectacular view of Tokyo Bay. At exactly seven o’clock, fireworks shoot into the sky, creating a dazzling display that lasts for ten minutes. Below us, boats are illuminated in various colours, their reflections shimmering on the water alongside the radiant Rainbow Bridge. Tokyo Tower continues to shine in the distance. The backdrop consists of a sea of lights from office buildings, adding to the immersive experience. In the foreground, the glow from the massive firework display warms the air, completing the enchanting scene.

After the fireworks, we take the train back to Asakusa, passing by the Fuji TV building as it displays bright flashing text: ‘What a cool we are!’

Back in Asakusa, we part ways. I head to Cafe Byron Bay for a bonenkai, a ‘forget the year’ party widely celebrated here. The tap-dancing balloon artist, whom I first saw performing on the streets of Asakusa during my first week in Japan, is here to entertain. A belly dancer is also putting on a show. I perform with trumpet and guitar. Food is free and all-you-can-eat. Everyone gets very drunk. After the entertainment, we each give a speech about the year we’ve had and what we hope to achieve in 2015. My resolution and absolute aim are to publish a science-fiction novel.

After the end-of-year party, I head out with seven Japanese friends for a second night in a row of karaoke.

In an Interstellar Burst

Posted on 30/11/2014 by Luke

Toothache has returned. After two full months of remaining silent in the corner of my mouth, the pain floods back like a terrible memory. My previous trauma at the dentist is once again vivid in the forefront of my mind. Luckily for me, I still have some little yellow pills from my last visit to the dentist, and these will do for today to both numb the pain and numb my nerves.

I cycle to Seven Eleven. The moment I park my bicycle, a policeman appears out of nowhere, parking his bicycle next to mine as if intentionally blocking me in. He hops off his bike at practiced speed and starts speaking in a language so fast it might not even be Japanese anymore, pointing at me. Eventually, he asks, “Buy?” Presumably, he wants to know if the bicycle I was riding is stolen or actually my own. I hand him my residence card, and he punches my bicycle registration number into a small digital device. “Okay,” he tells me, handing back my card before riding off just as quickly as he appeared.

I leave the stolen bicycle at Minowa Station and take the Tokyo Metro Hibiya Line. Thirty minutes later, I arrive in Roppongi. My first stop today: a spot of traditional British lunch.

I am yet to see a sign for an ‘English Restaurant’; perhaps such a restaurant doesn’t exist. ‘Malins Fish and Chips’ is the closest thing I will probably find in Japan. My lunch is served to me in a newspaper-covered box: fish, chips, and mushy peas. A home comfort in the shape of a stereotype. The peas taste horrible, but the fish and chips are very good. I also order a fish cake. Sadly, this restaurant gets it completely wrong, and I am presented with something that looks and tastes nothing like the fish cakes I am used to back home.

I wander over to Roppongi Hills, an area rich with overpriced apartments, five-star hotels, and expensive shops selling ‘luxury’ goods—things people don’t really need. There are valuable bowls that are merely display pieces, candles costing over ¥10,000 each, and sofas with price tags equivalent to the average annual salary in Japan. After leaving the shops, I head out into a makeshift courtyard, only to find a giant spider outside.

This bronze statue was made by the French artist Louise Bourgeois and is one of the largest sculptures of a spider in the world. Many people are here taking photographs or posing beneath her egg sac. I snap a quick shot before heading up an escalator that leads into a cinema.

One of the main reasons I came to Roppongi today, other than to eat fish and chips, is to watch the movie ‘Interstellar.’ I pay ¥1800 and head inside to find my seat. The Japanese cinema experience is no different from what I am used to: adverts, terrible trailers for upcoming releases, and cute characters telling everyone here to, ‘Switch off your mobile phone,’ and, ‘Do not talk during the movie.’ About halfway through the movie, my little yellow pill decides to wear off. I am already in pain from having to listen to Matthew McConaughey mumble through his lines. Now I have a second level of pain, further adding to my misery.

After what feels like seven hours, the movie finally ends. I leave the cinema and head over to Tokyo Midtown to see some over-the-top decorations.

After looking at the decorations outside the overpriced stores, I head to a small ice cream shop. The staff here are the happiest people in the world. A sign at the counter declares, ‘We sing for tips.’ I order strawberry cheesecake ice cream in a waffle cone, with a latte for good measure. It is possible to request a favourite song, and the staff will cheerfully sing it as they prepare the delicious homemade ice cream. “Old MacDonald had a farm, E-I-E-I-O,” they sing to the man in the queue before me—an odd choice for a favourite song. I doubt the staff will know any Radiohead, so I don’t trouble them by asking. My ice cream and coffee cost me ¥940, another casualty of an expensive Roppongi.

After dessert, I discover that Tokyo Midtown is having its annual winter illuminations, known as ‘Midtown Christmas.’ Since I’m already here, I decide to check them out.

The illuminations are impressive, far better than those at Tokyo Dome. There are multiple displays, including Christmas trees that line the roads and champagne glass-shaped lighting arrangements. However, the highlight for me is the ‘Starlight Garden’—millions of dancing lights, cool smoke machine effects, and haunting music. It’s very blue. I watch for a while, transfixed by the light show, before pondering that the electricity bill here must be massive. Heading back to the station, I buy a selection of expensive cheeses before taking the train bound for Minowa.

On the train ride home, my mind is consumed by broken time paradoxes, millions of blinking blue lights, and my lingering fear of dentistry.

Conspirators of Treasure

Posted on 23/11/2014 by Luke

The ¥130 sake cup vending machine near my house doesn’t require age verification. Additionally, there’s a vending machine selling lead pipes at the Asakusa View Hotel and another one offering plastic toy animals on the platform as you disembark from the Sobu Line at Akihabara Station. The latter is quite an unexpected sight, as plastic toy animals are the last thing on my mind when I exit a train. However, this is Japan, the land of the prizing sun, and today’s prize is tucked away inside a different kind of vending machine—the King’s Treasure Box.

A sticker on the front of the machine displays the English text, ‘Let it get.’ Unable to contain my curiosity any longer, I insert my ¥1000 note into the treasure box. Above the note slot, there’s an encouraging message, ‘One dream, One note!’ Among the potential prizes are a Nintendo Duel Screen, a PlayStation Vita, and even a product vaguely labelled as ‘Famous car.’

Following the instructions, I press any button, and the machine responds with an exciting clunk. I eagerly reach into the lower chamber to retrieve my prize.

My treasure quietly awaits me on the machine’s inner fake grass—Disco Glasses, proudly labelled ‘Made in China.’ These glasses, devoid of lenses and made from cheap plastic, boast voice-activated flashing red lights. Not exactly what I’d typically consider treasure. With no way of knowing if the machine stocks any ‘good’ prizes, it’s conceivable that it’s 100% Disco Glasses.

Bitter and disappointed, I scrutinise the machine for refund information. Despite my limited Japanese ability, I discern that I can follow the ‘King’s Blog’ for more information. However, details about a refund aren’t quite as forthcoming.

Disheartened by my less-than-thrilling prize, I decide to escape my disappointment by taking trains. I make my way to Aoyama-itchome Station, where my friend Genmei is hosting an art exhibition in the basement of Club Edition. Titled ‘Colourful is Power,’ her display lives up to its name, boasting vibrant hues that captivate the eye.

The venue itself exudes a more bar-like ambiance than a conventional art gallery, contributing to its unique atmosphere. I engage in a brief conversation with Genmei, a talented live painter. Having witnessed some of her live art firsthand, I can confidently say that she is an amazing artist. Her creative endeavours predominantly unfold at trance parties or raves, drawing inspiration from the mood and music of the events.

In a friendly gesture, I offer her my Disco Glasses, but she gracefully declines.

After leaving the gallery/bar, I step outside to find heavy rain pouring down. I navigate the rain-swept streets to reach the station and catch a train to Komagome. Today marks the opening ceremony for an event at Rikugien Gardens—an evening of autumn illuminations. I pay my ¥300 entry fee and enter the darkness.

These three-hundred-year-old landscape gardens have inspired countless poems. It’s been a while since I wrote a haiku, so here goes:

Hollow darkness welcomes me,
To black rain singing,
And decaying leaves screaming.

Stumbling through the woods, I eventually spot maple trees adorned with red and green lights. The path beneath my feet is sodden, my shoes squelching as they tread over the thick, wet mud. Small lanterns mark the way, guiding me through the enchanting scene. I follow the illuminated path, captivated by the beauty around me despite the biting cold. In the distance, ducks play in the lake, trees sway gently in the wind, and steam billows from spotlights, creating a stark contrast to the crisp winter air.

After walking around for about an hour, I realise I am lost in a maze of trees illuminated by scattered lights. At times, I find myself stumbling through the silent darkness. Eventually, I spot a steward; he lacks an umbrella and is soaked to the bone. As I approach, he remains silent, lifting his arm to point toward a small gap between some trees that appears to lead into a void. Quietly following his unspoken guidance, I venture through.

Ten minutes later, I emerge into a scene that resembles a different planet.

Soft blue light gently bathes the fallen autumn leaves, casting a mysterious glow over the tremendous yet somewhat spooky sight. The surroundings are shrouded in mystery and framed by towering trees. A small speaker nearby plays calming music, the falling rain inadvertently adding to the soothing chorus. Mesmerised, I watch the patterns of blue smoke, finally able to enjoy some illuminations.

Having witnessed this captivating spectacle, I embark on a ten-minute journey through quicksand-like mud, eventually finding my way to the exit.

Back in Asakusa, I indulge in drinks until midnight before heading to Tori-no-Ichi part two—the second day of the rooster this month. Once again, the streets are filled with people wielding massive rakes, partaking in the festivities. While the crowd revels in the celebration, I have a singular focus—the street food market.

I opt for Korean-style yakisoba, a generous serving of vegetables and noodles topped with kimchi. Satisfied, I join a relatively short queue for a ¥300 bag of hot baked kasutera. As I relish each bite of my favourite snack, I savour the moment. It’s precisely at this juncture that I discover the batteries in my Disco Glasses have died.

Necks, Lights, and Video Ape

Posted on 04/11/2014 by Luke

Culture Day is held on the 3rd of November every year. It is an event to promote the arts and Japanese culture. Introduced in 1948, Culture Day is a public holiday. On this day, the people of Japan have a day off from work, and events will take place throughout Tokyo. An interesting fact I have learned is that it never rains on Culture Day; statistically, it is the clearest day of the year.

Outside, it is raining. I decide to head to Seven Eleven to buy a coffee. At the checkout, I am asked to place my hand in a box. I pull out a small piece of paper with a picture of a banana on it. Great! I’ve won a banana. This is quite possibly the best thing that will happen to me all day. I take my bicycle and head over to Asakusa, to Senso-ji. Today, I am here to satisfy my heron addiction. At the temple, the rain has all but stopped, and the crowds are slightly larger than usual. People on holiday have flocked to the temple to see the festival.

Today marks the White Heron Dance festival, a one-thousand-year-old tradition. The event features eight women dressed as herons, gracefully making their way through Kaminarimon Gate toward the main temple. Following closely behind them is a small wooden cart, accompanied by drummers, a man carrying a huge umbrella, three percussionists, and another man with a baton. Additionally, a woman carries a box full of confetti.

The procession sets up just beside the temple, and a huge crowd of people forms a circle, watching attentively. The music starts, and the heron dance begins. The women move with elegance, their dance slow and precise. Wings expand and contract, and heron heads bob gracefully. The woman with the confetti tosses it to the birds, and they pretend to be fed. As the dance draws to a close, its cleansing ability purifies the souls of the deceased.

After the event, I decide to explore a little. At the small nearby Awashi-do Temple, a monk sits chanting and hitting a drum every second. He maintains a steady, practiced rhythm and doesn’t appear to blink. Just outside, at a market stall, a man sits in a chair, waving his hands from side to side and singing, “Nice to meet you, where are you from?” I tell him England. “Aaaaah, Englandooo, Englandooo!” he joyfully sings.

As I wander around to see if any other Culture Day events are taking place, I stumble upon a small stage hidden away in one corner of the temple grounds—and a monkey.

As I explore further, I discover not just one, but two monkeys. The first, accompanied by a man, showcases its natural ability to dive through hoops. The second monkey, with a woman, possesses impressive skills — it can jump really far, leap over hurdles whilst wearing stilts, and even walk on its hands. I applaud the performance, though I can’t help but question the potential cruelty involved. In an attempt to pay it forward, I give away the banana I won earlier.

I leave Asakusa and head over to Ueno Park to enjoy some light art. Today, the park is adorned with illuminations created by Ishii Motoko, the woman behind the lighting designs for Tokyo Tower, the Rainbow Bridge to Odaiba, and many other projects throughout Japan.

The water fountains are lit up, and the sky is filled with colours from lasers projected from a small lighting booth. The Tokyo National Museum has transformed into a whiteboard for projected images; arts, antiques, and artefacts housed in the museum are displayed in full colour across one of its walls. Lanterns line the paths, and small stalls are set up, selling meat, sweets, fruits, and assorted Japanese snacks.

Similar to the other events today, this festival also showcases animals. Scattered throughout the park are many animals from Ueno Zoo, adorned with fairy lights. A significant effort has been put into this, making the festival a lot of fun. However, at times, it does feel like I am at a premature Christmas market.

I learn that in the past, this day was a public holiday celebrating the birthday of the Meiji Emperor, who was the first person to eat meat in Japan back in 1872. After his death in 1912, the day ceased to be a public holiday until it was reinstated in 1948 as Culture Day. Interestingly, a significant aspect of Japanese culture today involves the consumption of animals, which might explain why every event I have visited today has some sort of animal theme.

I head back toward the water fountains, where a stage has been erected. It’s only quarter to six, and the park is bustling with parents and young children. On stage, a woman is dancing with a pole. The pole dancing eventually concludes, and a drum kit is set up. The band is scheduled to perform at 6 p.m., but at five minutes past, there is still no sign of a performance.

Ten minutes pass, making the performance fifteen minutes late. Finally, the flowers begin to light up, water fountains dance once more, and a band takes the stage. Comprising a saxophonist, a hornist, two trumpet players, and a drummer, they kick off with a musical rendition of ‘When You Wish Upon a Star.’ As they consider playing their second piece, I notice some tempting lights in the distance.

The wall of the National Museum of Nature and Science is also lit up, featuring a dazzling light show depicting the story of evolution. The lights showcase the earliest eukaryotes to the animals of today. Volcanoes erupt, and monkeys transform into men. I stay for the entire show, enthusiastically applauding with the rest of the crowd at the end.

After the illuminations, I meet my friend Khin, and we head to one of my favourite bars, Nui. At the bar, we join a group of Australians. One of the women, Claudia, grew up in Perth, the same place as Khin — quite the coincidence, maybe. When I mention where I’m from in England, I’m surprised to find that she has heard of it; most people haven’t. My surprise deepens when she takes out her passport and shows me the section displaying her birthplace. Oddly, it is my hometown — the same city, the same hospital, but more remarkably, we were born on the very same day. Such a small world. Our paths crossing in a Tokyo bar, woven together by the cosmic dance of a shared day.

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Tag Archives: illuminations

Paint and Gunpowder

In an Interstellar Burst

Conspirators of Treasure

Necks, Lights, and Video Ape