Head of a Lion, Tail of a Dog

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.”

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“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.

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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.”

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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’.

Twenty-Four Hours in Japan

Sitting on a British Airways flight for thirteen hours with Suzuki-san, I land at Tokyo-Narita International Airport with a strong hangover and a profound but newfound knowledge of ballroom dancing. I was happy that I had someone to talk to during the flight, and Mr. Suzuki was happy because he got to practice his English. What struck me as odd, though, is that after two small Heineken beers, Mr. Suzuki handed me a pamphlet for his ballroom dancing studio, complete with a nice map and address. One Heineken later, he gave me a business card with his home address, telephone number, and email address. Japan must be the only country I have experienced that has such a high level of trust.

As I approach immigration at the airport, I notice a sign that reads, “Please refrain from physical contact with others, except for the staff.” I adhere to this unusual instruction and proceed to have my fingerprints and photograph taken. After a swift 90-minute train journey on the Narita Express, I arrive at Tokyo Station. Here, I make a seamless transition to what has always been my preferred railway loop line in Japan: the Yamanote Line. This remarkable train route encircles all the main stations in Tokyo, spanning 29 stops in just one hour—a line I aspire to traverse entirely on foot one day.

For now, I take a brief two-minute train ride from Tokyo Station to the following stop on the loop, Kanda Station. It’s at Kanda Station that I transfer to what will likely serve as my new home for the next month: the Tokyo Metro Ginza Line.

Finally, after a total of twenty-two hours of solid travelling, I step out of the subway, gaze across the skyline for a few seconds, and spot the second tallest structure in the world, as well as the tallest tower in the world, Tokyo Skytree. Standing a mere 634 metres tall, this will be my Polaris.

After finding my hostel with somewhat relative ease, I check-in. After a few moments I already decide that I have made the right choice to start my Japan journey here. “We offer free laundry powder,” the receptionist says in perfect English. “We also have a comic room!” he exclaims.
“A what?”
“A comic room,” he repeats. So up the lift we go, and he shows me to the comic room, with its free massage chair, and free manga comics.

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It is the official place to chill out and read manga comics, apparently. And it’s all free!

‘Free’ a word I will be hearing a lot of in the next few hours. The hostel has free tea and coffee, free laundry powder, free manga comics, free massage chair, free wireless Internet, free computers with free Internet, free toilet roll, and every Thursday, in a little room that doubles up as a whisky bar, is a free Jazz night, featuring excellent and professional Jazz musicians. Luckily for me, today is Thursday.

After finding my room and my amazing bed, I check out the facilities and find out that all the toilets in this hostel are made by Toshiba. I also find the hostel vending machines: one selling soft drinks and Boss coffee, one selling extremely cheap Asahi beer and 6% cider, and the other selling, ‘FOOD FOOD HOT FOOD 24 SEVEN,’ or so it says.

I relax in the hostel for a while reading one of the ‘free’ guide books. Eventually I team up with an Irish man, who is sharing my hostel room and whom I had previously met, and an American man. After a few beers we decide to head out for some food. The Irish man knows a great ramen shop across town, so off we go.

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He was right, the ramen was amazing.

On the way back to the hostel for the Jazz night, the American spots a sign he had referenced previously that evening. It basically says free beer in exchange for some bar work, so we decide to check it out. I have been in Japan for less than a day and, although paid in beer, I have effectively landed a job.

Here, in this small back alley bar, Japanese men and women come to practice their English. My job is for thirty minutes to sit and talk to a Japanese lady in my native tongue. The moment I sit down a beer is poured for me, and it is on the house. Free beer brings the English speakers in, English conversation brings the Japanese customers in. A clever idea in a country that generally has limited to poor English speaking ability.

After thirty minutes of stop-start, but very enjoyable conversation, the bar owner asks the three of us to switch around. The Irish man gets put with the Japanese lady I had just been talking to; and I sit with a young Japanese man, probably in his mid-twenties. Another beer is poured for me, once again it is free.

This man has excellent English speaking ability, probably better than some of the native English speaking customers I have spoken to during my previous employment. He does not need to be here. I would argue that he is only in this bar to improve his confidence when speaking in English, however, this man has the confidence to come to this back alley bar, on his own; so I am not sure his confidence needs improving too much. Shortly into our thirty minute conversation he mentions a Japanese art and acting form called kabuki. Oddly, a few days ago I had watched an NHK World documentary about the subject, so from that, the conversation flows.

After our two thirty minute sittings, and my two free beers, the three of us head back to the hostel to find that unfortunately the Jazz has finished. However, the whisky is still flowing and the party in the Jazz club is far from over.

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I don’t remember a great deal else from tonight, just that I leave in the early hours in a haze and head back to my room to sleep off almost 48 hours of being awake.

My first day in Japan.