For this post I will be sourcing lots of photos from my recent trip to Tokyo. In many ways it was good to close out my stay in Japan with a final trip to the largest & busiest place in Japan. Before this I have spent a lot of time in Kyoto, seeking out the familiar site of roofs with Japanese kawara (roof tiles), whereas now I find myself staring down subway tunnels that look like they are fresh out of starwars or blade runner. The photo I have that goes with this statement is the one of the Tokyo Metro, in which a single person stands waiting for the train. The person herself is dwarfed by the size of the smooth tunnel. But also got to see sights which were very different, for example the graveyard in which the great author Akutagawa Ryuunosuke was burried, along with countless numbers of other important historical figures.  One of the pictures that I chose from this graveyard was of the plantlife growing onto the gravestones. I thought this was an important aspect to note because, in the midist of Tokyo where everything has been rebuilt a million times and turned to metal or plastic, their is moss crawling up the sides of ancient gravestones which have survived through wars.

How have these observations among others changed the way I think about Japan since when I arrived here? Well firstly I think I can understand what the spirit of modern Japan is much better now. Seeing the complex layering of eras with my own eyes has really changed how I interoperate modern Japan as a country. Without even taking a proper history courseI feel like I have a more intimate understanding of its growth, and really how changed it is from my initial conceptions. Going to the Japanese diet in Tokyo was something that helped this along. The whole time I remained taken a back by the fact that, when within the diet, there was almost no way of telling that this was indeed Japan, not europe. At least when I walk down a street near my house, there are very distinct aspects that call out saying “this is not america or europe!” In the diet, save the fact that their names are written in chinese characters, I feel like im visiting the french court. 

But more over, being in a great city really showed me what Japan has become. Living in Hirakata, I get to see the modern suburb that retains small family run businesses as well as other aspects that hark back to other time periods. Tokyo is a brand new city. Brand new I say, because although it has layers upon layers of history, so much of its infrastructure is recent. This picture taken in Shibuya looks fake. It looks like a video game. And thats exactly how I felt, like I was in a video game. It really concreted the idea in my mind that within Japan there are a multitude of ideas that are often contrary to one each other which co-exist like patchwork. And unlike the relatively flexible reality we face in the west, where change is inevitable, I really see in Japan a country that is stubborn towards change but yet eager to succeed and thus changed by the necessity of the global social reality. It creates a truly unique quilt of odd elements from all walks of life.

 A week or so ago, I went with some friends to Himeji city. We stayed at our friends house and with their family, which gave me an opportunity to see the city from more perspectives than just a foreigner visiting himejijyou. I assumed himeji would be like any other city I had visisted up to this point, somthing around the size of hirakatashi or umeji, with lots of little houses crammed into busy winding streets, small but bustling. Instead when I stepped off the train I was met with cool air, and a wide open area, a sea of houses, gathered between small mountains which looked like little islands of trees. This was a much welcomed site; I was happy to see a different side of living in Japan, in this case the 田舎 (countryside). Our friends house was a small but tall house with the unmistakable skinny and tall door that you see everywhere here. This house was crammed right up against the mountain side, next to a small buddhist temple. The neighboring houses climbed up, licking the edges of the mountain and then stopping abruptly as trees burst forth instead. Coming from a state in America where buildings encroach increasingly upon the wilderness, I have always been fascinated by how in Japan mountains start abruptly and remain relatively untouched. As the sunset, we hiked up the mountain, scrambling up the rocks, which gave me a wonderful view of some of the town below. This is the set up for my first and main picture, which I took after climbing up to a nice viewing point.

This is the view of Japan that drew me here, even if I only first saw it in Miyazaki movies. Its the intricate winding up buildings not built up on a grid, that fill the flat fields making way for islands of trees. As an anthropologist I see humans who live in basins, agriculturalists who rely on towns like these where the fields are plentiful, people who care about hills. One thing I like in this photo is, in the middle of all of the buildings there are too tuffs of green. They are very small hills I guess. If this was my home town, there would be apartments ontop of them. Buildings would surpass 5 stories, and everything would be a bit more hidden. The human impact is dense, but selective. 

Another memorable aspect of this trip, in regards to humans, was our friends little sister, about 2 years old, who spent half the time playing with my iPhone and asking us random questions in adorably broken Japanese. Her parents are Vietnamese, speak some Japanese, but defiantly retain their own culture. Yet this young girl, and her sisters were unmistakably Japanese. This could be seen from their speech, body language, and even their stance. Naturally this is because they were born and raised in Japan, but regardless of that, it was an interesting family dynamic to witness. Certaintly Japanese but at the same time, not “purely” Japanese. I caught myself thinking, what do other Japanese friends think when they come over? Will this girls childhood be any different from that of a girl from a non immigrant family? In a society so concerned about what everyone thinks, what will be thought of them? This questions would take more time and observation to justly answer, but the visit itself put the idea in my head.

The topic “What Japanese People Do” can be taken in many ways. First of all it assumes that there really is a homogenous category of ‘Japanese’, which, however legitimate, is like any other nationality, a generalization. So in terms of this post, I will be looking simply at things I have seen people doing in Japan. How exactly can I represent such a broad set of action with snapshots alone? When I look at everyone that I pass by while on my way to school, a friends, a restraunt, everyone I talk to at a matsuri, a bar, at home, I see so many little snapshots, each which would require an essay. Maybe I am just obsessed with the details. In terms of photography however, this springs cherry blossom-viewing has provided me with at least one little opportunity to tour Osaka & Kyoto and see what everyone is up too. Because of this, Hanami is inherently the subject of my photos. I hope to pull out of these very specific shots larger concepts that can help answer the question “what Japanese People Do”.

This first picture I very much enjoy. There is no people in the picture but I still feel like it says a lot. I went to Kyoto for 夜桜, evening sakura viewing; the park was bustling but the areas under the trees were at first empty; empty except for the tarps that were laid down marking a groups reserved spot. As we sat eating Takoyaki, Hiroshimayaki, and the rather non Japanese indian shiskabobs, I looked across to the adjacent large blue tarp. Smack dab in the center was a massive pile of booze to be consumed later. Indeed, in about 2 hours there was instead a joyous crowd. That lone pile of sake however, perfectly organized into a diamond, seemed to represent Hanami very well. A lot of thought is put into the whole event, and everything is laid out ahead of time. Even the fact that a group of 20 or so people would leave all their drinks sitting in the middle of a park could be a bit baffling to foreign eyes.

The second picture shows two Japanese girls walking around in Kimono. How steryotypical of a shot, someone might say. “You went to a festival and photographed only the traditional looking stuff”. Regardless, I think its important to note that in modern Japan, where Osaka city sometimes feels like a big american city, even some young people feel inclined to wear traditional Japanese clothing for certain events.  This next shot was taken in Osaka near 天満橋 temmabashi. Everyone gathered around the area to see the Sakuras,  and street performers also came to attract attention and make money. This reminded me of being in new york where the same thing happened. This time the biggest difference to me was the amount of keigo the performer was using. Again and again she would repeat humbling words of thanks to her audience as she performed her tricks.

Below I have many other photos which I have not posted inside of the text. Out of those photos two others I feel benefit from some extra commentary. First of all, the photo of the guy roasting fish upon sticks. To foreign eyes this immediately sticks out as ‘Japanese’, mainly because its ‘different’. It could be exaggerated, but that is beyond me. What I do think though, is at events, and matsuri, things that stand out as ‘Japanese’, are becoming less of somthing normal and more of a show. A show of what this country has done, a continuously growing collection of culture. Right next to this stand is an indian man selling curry speaking perfect Japanese and seconds later perfect English. Both desire to stand out and be noticed by the customer.

The second to last shot in the slider has a 篝火, a little fire in a metal bucket. People gathered around them as the cool night air set in, making everyone forget that it was technically spring. I thought that the setting of the Sakuras in combination with this wonderfully effective and old heater was perfect. In my picture the sakura glows behind the kagaribi. I think “things Japanese people do” are very multi-layered. I think they are expressed well by the word 八重, which effectively means multilayered. But I think of it more as a metaphor for the sakura petals. During hanami my Japanese friend and mentor was talking about how the sakura petals were multi-layered upon each other, using the word 八重。I really don’t think in the context that she was using it there is a proper translation. In the sense that she used it, to describe how the petals criss cross each other incessantly, so do various Japanese activities.

When tasked with taking a portrait of a Japanese person, I felt like I had two immediate options. One, to find someone who I would like to discover more about that I do not already know, chat with them, hope they are willing to tell me their story, and take a picture. The other option would be to photograph a friend. I will not lie that the reason that I chose the later does indeed have to do with my own desire to avoid awkward interactions, however, it is not that alone. For this assignment I prescribed to the school of thought that in order to get an expressive picture of someone you should get to know them so that they loosen up in your presence. I chose to photograph my friend Kensei Sonoda 健生園田. He was one of the first Japanese friends I made upon arriving here at Kansaigaidai. Amid the jet-lagged confusion of the first few days he led me and others on an adventure to Kyoto, and quickly became a person with which I spend lots of time. Like many young people in Japan, he is quite a fan of baseball. I first realized this when we both stayed over at our friends house after bowling; while watching TV, entering the ofuro and chatting, he was talking about missing playing, and intent on staying in shape. When we were walking back towards Hirakata station after grabbing shinkansen tickets, Kensei spoted a very nice baseball field, and proceeded to take a picture of it. Because of this, I decided to take a baseball-themed portrait of him. He was actually quite partisan to the idea, all be it slightly embarrassed to be wearing a uniform in public.  It would have been ideal if he could have been actually playing, but unfortunately that did not work out. While i was photographing him, neither of us knew exactly what he should do or how he should stand or look. He tried throwing a couple times, which resulted in one good photo, but in the end, the best photo came from him just casually tossing the ball while casually asking me what else we should try to do. This was the moment I was waiting for, the moment when he acted normal regardless of the camera. The two images that I took represent to some extent two aspects of his personality. On one side, there is a very casual, friendly nature which I feel is visible in the first photo where he is tossing the ball. There also is a very involved, serious, and dedicated side which comes out in sports or in the completion of anything else that is tasked upon him. This is more visible in the photo where he is throwing.

 I currently live in Kourigaoka of Hirakata city. This neighborhood is comprised of mostly apartment buildings and recent structures that all look slightly the same.  In my mind, It feels like an odd cross between an american suburb and a set of stalinist apartment complexes. Beneath the buildings lays a much older base of stone which reminds you that this neighborhood has existed for a while, all be it in a very different form. On rainy days as I walk to the bus stop, water flows with astounding torrential speed through the cracks of a small rock wall around one of the local buildings. Walking down the streets, the buildings fit together messily. Despite their new, almost mundane form, you can tell that they were built in accordance to the already laid-out city blocks that have been here for some time. This first picture was taken from my Bus stop while commuting to school on a rainy day.  Recently the weather has always been like this when I return to my neighborhood. Even if the days are sunny with blue skies, by the time I make it back home, more oft than not, the sky has clouded over. This was far from ideal in terms of photos; I would much rather have been able to take a evening shot documenting my neighboring buildings lit up by an orange glow. In the second picture is a rusted sign. I feel like this picture epitomizes the atmosphere of my neighborhood. While is markedly modern, given that, save a elementary school, it is all apartment buildings, there is yet a tinge of entropy seeping into the otherwise neatly arranged environment. The sign also gives off a very Japanese feel. At Hirkatashi Eki, or any other place where more foreigners are likely to be, almost every sign contains some kind of english translation even if it is far from correct. These signs lack these things; I feel like I am living in common everyday Japan when I walk home at night past the drunk Salaryman and the ever-growing number of obaasans. Then again I realize that as a foreigner with an acute interest in the Japanese language, and in the case of these signs, I am elated to always see them without foreign influence. This is of course, not in line with the natural progression of language & humanity; I recognize that. Below are two more photos. One of the bikes at my apartment building, and another that displays the name of the neighborhood, kyū chōme.

Edit: This afternoon (The following saturday since this post), the weather cleared up, with the temperature reaching 12 degrees (驚き ^0^) and blue skies, so I decided to take a proper stroll with my camera again and capture what I wasn’t able to the first time around. In the slider below are 4 new pictures which display my apartment building, the surrounding apartment buildings, and nearby houses.

As a graphic artist my first observations about Japan as a society relate to its visual representation of information. What immediately strikes my eye is the contrast between the clean visual representations of train lines and bus routes that permeate the transportation facilities, which themselves carry an appealing nature of old technology layered upon new, and the crowded messy typography on every TV screen & magazine cover. At the same time their exists two tendencies: one to be very organized, systematic, and the other, a tendency to cram as much as possible into a given space, layering content time and time again till nothing else can fit. I think this is a good example of a visual phenomena that permeates Japan. This compact island nation, upon which people are crammed into the flat plains wedged between the fingers of mountains, is geographically predisposed to have both the cramped and highly functional, and the organized and highly attractive. In the geography, we have the plains, which are home to the cities, and the mountains, which are home to the temples. In the cities we see everything crammed together, and in the mountains we see the visual traditions of elegance for its own sake at work. The most intriguing point however is that within the busy city areas, there are little pockets of organization, which forms a proper system. Although the streets may a mess with people running to and forth, step into a home or business, and it becomes a well managed reality.  In the first picture I have posted within this text, you can see on one side an organized visual system side by side with the lights of easily 30 taxi’s crammed into a small waiting area at Hirakatashi Station. In the second photo to the left we see a cramped but well decorated corridor in shinsaibashi. In an extreamly wide and open street which is home to many weastern images, it is exciting to find a corridor that is at most 4 feet wide. Dispite it’s messyness バラバラ feel you can tell everything was put in order by someone. People push through this small corridor with amazing speed given it’s size. These types of things have been the first that I have noticed while in Japan.

Up to this point my exposure certainly has been drawn towards places with more tourist attraction: places that retain images of Japanese cultural heritage. Still, I feel like to some extent I can still glimpse its spirit in places as mundane as a train station as I have noted above. Just meandering around Hirakata, I feel both at home and in a new world. Around me are the buildings of industry and the narrow streets of rural Japan. I have the Komatsu factory on my left, and the small family restaurant on my right. While it is more obvious in the picture on the right, you can see both the new and the old. In this case, the new is off in the distance, and not the main subject of the picture. This however is the intent. I took this photos because I wanted to preserve the feeling of looking down upon these buildings. Never the less, the fact that the encroaching cityscape is not removed from the picture is equally important.

 

Throughout the past two weeks I have been brought to Kyoto twice. bn Both of these trips I was able to take many pictures. Given the fact that it is kyoto the subject matter is not surprisingly temples and traditional buildings. I think however that they are important to note. Gion for example is a very interesting place within which to witness the contrast of eras. Walk but a block from the main street that snakes the river and you will rise up slowly into the hills towards kyoumizudera, surrounded by increasingly smaller streets and older buildings. It is wonderful to see, given the fact that so much of Japanese older architecture has been burned.

The above photos we have are of a temple and a train station. The train station is in Hirakata, whereas the temple is in Kyoto. The two pictures create a nice contrast between the mechanical and busy and the tranquil and traditional. Never the less both photos show some characteristic that can be associated with Japan. In the case of the temple, I first see the gate in the background. It is large a symbolic, as is the immense staircase which I am looking down while taking the photo. In the background we see a parked car; the one element that reminds us completely that this is indeed the 21st century. The two people in the photo are most likely a couple.  Setting them against the epic background of the history makes them look like tourists, scaling them up against the brick walls. In the train station shot we see a vending machine which is unmistakably Japanese. All of the vendable bottles are crowded together and their packaging is bright and busy. In the background, although blurred, there is the criss cross of train tracks a wires. A near perfect system that is well thought out but looks like an entanglement of steel. I love this contrast. I think to some extent it is what has helped bring me to Japan. I feel that it manifests itself even in its writing system. Thick complex blocks of kanji, and the simplistic, flowing forms of hiragana, inter-mingled to create a writing system that looks like none other. The one other photo I have included to the left is a picture of people walking in Shinsai bashi. Like most photos I take, I did not think about it until after I took it so I am hard pressed to read into it too much, however it at least is a good example of the crowded, visually stimulating street for which Japan is known.

In the slider below, other photos which I have not posted in the text, along with ones that I have can be viewed. All photos can be clicked which will open up a larger viewing window.