Two weeks ago I took the Japanese Language Proficiency Test. taking the test was a voluntary exercise; my employer didn’t require it or recommend it, nor will I receive any sort of performance-related benefit based on the results. I simply wanted to challenge myself and give my studying motivation a little boost. If my grade school self heard about this he probably would have called me a nerd-face and then pushed me off the jungle gym. He would have had a fair point.
My present day self also took issue with this decision when it was discovered that the test started at 9:30 on a Sunday morning. This was compounded by the fact that my assigned testing site (and this was the closest venue) was in Kobe–and not event convenient central Kobe, but the outskirts of Kobe, at a university that required me to switch trains, take a subway and then walk a bunch. Thus, I found myself awake at 6:45 AM on a Sunday morning, which is never something I’m happy about.
I was able to overcome my allergy to mornings and make it to the testing site without any problems–which, given the degree of difficulty in my situation, should probably have counted towards my test score (or maybe that should have just been the test, howdoyoulikethem apples?).
The test experience was far from what I expected. First, there was not element of danger. I was not placed in a hexagon of death, no one was chasing me, and alligator clips were not attached to any of appendages. Secondly, the nationality make-up of the testing pool was far different from what I imagined. Now, this certainly didn’t bother me in any way, but I suppose in imperialistic subconscious, I imagined the kind of people who studied Japanese and who took this test were American, British, or Aussies who are in country and trying to learn the language. What I neglected to logically think about where the hundreds of thousands of continental Asians that come to Japan to study abroad or work. Thus, in my classroom of fifty people, it was me, a girl from Switzerland, a thirteen year old Indian girl and mixture of forty-seven Vietnamese or Chinese students. I guess at the heart of the issue, I was under the impression that at a test for foreigners I was going to be able to hide in the crowd for the first time in a while. Instead it was the continuation of my everyday experience, life as a spectacle.
One thing I did expect, was the Japanese would run their test very tightly. On this note, I was correct. They had three proctors for each room, and each proctor had a red card and yellow card they could issue you for a variety of offenses (ringing cellphone, talking, cheating). Each classroom at the testing site (and possibly throughout Japan) was synchronized to a radio broadcast, which provided us with instructions and listening passages. I will admit that i assumed the the carding systems was merely for show, and something that wouldn’t be put into use–and it was that way for a while. Then during the first listening question, someone’s cellphone alarm went off. Then some of the students taking the test were warned for talking. It was a Millwall v. West Ham fixture it was sort of perplexing to witness someone receiving card during an examination.
When the test was finished, I didn’t feel very confident about my score. Apparently, the testing system will be changed next year, and thus many of the mainstay topics in the vocabulary and grammar sections have been changed already. Still, the benefit for me is not in a passing grade but in all the studying I have done, and the fact that test is only given once a year so I can’t talk myself myself into waking up before 7 on a Sunday for entire year.
Two weeks ago I went to (and this verbatim from the ticket stub) “Scarlett Maples Leaves At Night in Eikando Zenrin-Ji” in Kyoto. Eikando Zenrin-Ji temple is famous for its brilliant fall foliage (and a buddha statue with it’s head turned round like an owl). Apparently, a few years ago someone at the temple got wise to the fact that the Japanese love technology + everything and realized it would be a great idea to charge people 600 JPY to see the autumn foliage lit up at night. I, on the other hand ,was intelligent enough to pick a holiday weekend in right at the height of tree-viewing season (if such a things exists–which it does) to pay 600 JPY to see trees at night, because I also wanted to wait in line outside the temple beforehand.
I also had the great misfortune of going on a cold and rainy night–which only makes the line-waiting better. Inside, the leaves and lighting dynamics were stunning. I was worth the prcie of admission. However, it was hard to appreciate them while dodging umbrellas. For all the emphasis the Japanese place on respect and social protocol, when a large group of people are gathered in a small public space it might as well be a Metallica concert. Elbows are thrown, common decency is tossed out the window.
Also, my height–compared to that of the average Japanese person–doesn’t bode well for me when umbrellas are involved. It somehow always works out that the rusty brim of the $1 umbrella (so that’s unregulated Chinese rust) that the guy in front of me is holding is sits right at eye-level. It’s at times like these that I am thankful that I wear glasses but curious about when my last tetanus shot was. The rule of thumb on tetanus shots of course is: if you have to be curious, it’s been too long.
Still, in retrospect, fun and danger go hand in hand. While I probably appreciated it less at the time, there really is something to leaves in Kyoto. I’m by no means and expert on the quality of autumn foliage, but the mountain air seems to enhance the saturation of the color in the leaves–or it could just be the lighting.
injury free, master of this domain
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: 2009, art, art in containers, Biennale, Kobe, meriken park
I’m usually not a huge fan of installation art–I find it too often grays the area between art and furniture. Not that the two mediums are mutually exclusive. Instead, I would say that it’s extremely difficult to be just a good artist or just a good interior designer. The ambitious blending of these two fields tends to result in things like pieces of garbage hanging from the ceiling with fishing line or chairs made of broken glass.
That in mind, this weekend I went to Kobe Biennale art exhibition. The exhibition takes place at many sites through the city, however the focal point was in Meriken Park, at the Port of Kobe. There, organizers had a erected a small, improvised outdoor museum.
Origami was promised- "Origami Shrine" by Goco Tomohisa
The highlight of the Biennale was the “Art in Containers” International Exhibition. Thirty contemporary artists–all who have some connection to Kobe–were chosen, and each were tasked with creating an installation piece inside a 40 ft. deep shipping container.
As I said before, I am not a huge fan of installation art; however, I do think the utilization of shipping containers buoyed the effectiveness of some of these pieces. Having a defined space provided a clear segmentation between each piece while elegantly condensing and focusing some of the art in a manner that enhanced the experience.
Cardboard sculpture Buddha- "BUTSU" by Honbori Yuji
That’s not to say that I loved every piece. Some of them were the typical over-thought and under executed installations that modern art is often criticized for. There was the boring 3-D animation from the early 90’s on a wall container, and another that was simply a dark space with weird sounds. I actually didn’t stay in the any of the darkened containers for any extended period of time. I’ve seen to many crime shows to feel safe when alone in a pitch-black shipping container; at any moment the door could slam shut and not reopen until days later some detective finds your frozen, dead body in Arkhangelsk and he then has to get in his Lieutenants face just to start making inquiries with the local organized crime syndicates.
On the whole, many of the installations were interesting. My particular favorite involved a container where the walls and ceiling were covered in tiny wall clocks. The sound of hundreds of clocks ticking simultaneous was one of those unique art experiences (clock shops excluded). Also, a in the container at the same time as me lady had the audacity to touch one of the clocks. Of course, the clock she touched and another fell off the wall and shattered on the floor. I somehow was able to catch the entire spectacle from her initial arm extension to her sever and instantaneous reaction of regret (it’s a universal expression). I don’t really like performance art either but this was like my own private candid camera show, except for the part where she actually looked at me and I had to quickly reply “daijobu” (everything is okay).
Walk into the light
Also, this is Japan, so there was some cool large scale origami. There were other containers that had a more circus atmosphere–funny mirrors and one with just a bunch of fans and mounds of confetti that you could play in. While one might dispute the artistic endeavor of these installations, the fun quotient of them can really be debated.
watch your head
This Chris Farely skit presents one of the many global stereotypes of Japanese television. If one were to put them all together the caricature created would be twenty-four hours of anime and shock and awe game shows. With any stereotype, there is some truth to it. Yes, there is anime, and yes there are shows where comedians get dunked into a tank of eels or have wasabi shot directly up their nose for reasons I still don’t understand (actually, the reason is pain is funny). However, in between, Japanese airwaves are filled with a mixture of programming that not much different from any other Western Country’s.
There are still many cultural nuances to Japanese television that remain a mystery to me. One thing I have come to understand is that there is a larger percentage of shows in Japan on mainstream channels that are devoted to being informative as well as entertaining. Celebrities often appear on roundtable type shows where they present documentaries or examine surprising facts. There is a real emphsis on the show being a learning experience. Of course, just as I typed that a program showed video of a cat that says “arigato” when it eats.
Within the last fews years (according to my Japanese Teacher) Kanji quiz shows have become quite popular. Kanji, which are the adopted Chinese characters, are one of the three systems of writing in Japanese. There are about 2,000 “daily use” Kanji that every Japanese person is expected to know upon graduating High School, but there are many more beyond that Kanji can be very difficult to learn because most characters have multiple pronunciations that are used depending on the context. Also many Kanji can share the same sound, yet have a different meaning.
In these game shows often the objective of is simply to spell the Kanji correctly using Hiragana–a phonetic alphabet. In most cases, the contestants on then show are famous comedians, actors of athletes. They are not scholars by any means and the mixture of questions ranges from simple immensely difficult. Many comedians have made a name for themselves by simply displaying a good sense of humor about being dumb. While there is a clear objective to the game there are often no prizes for winning. Rather the prize is simply the television exposure provided by being on the show.
As you can see from this clip, while it’s a stylized competition the production value is not exactly extravagant. In this clip the members of a team are trying to spell certain Kanji in Hiragana and get farther into the game than the two competing teams (seen mocking them on a separate stage).
From a cultural standpoint, I find it fascinating that a show like this popular. I can’t imagine what is essentially a prizeless celebrity spelling contest being a ratings draw in America. Recent trends suggest Americans would rather watch an average-joe partake in a high-stakes match of wits that requires the contestant to only have a rudimentary grasp of some basic math to succeed… and yes, I I’ll admit I was a sucker for it too, I blame Howie Mandel.
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: bad ideas, crazy, haircut, Japan, jumper, self-haircut, shopping
This is easily the most amusing thing I have found in Japan. Be nice or it is also your Christmas present.
This is not what Back to the Future II had in mind
I found this contraption (The name appears to be haircut jumper-for Men) in the bargain section of JUSCO (The Japanese equivalent of Walmart). The first time I walked by it caught my attention but I was in such rush that I didn’t stop to examine it. I intially thought it was somesort of vest used for doing laundry. A week later I had to fortune to come across it again and this time I was able to stop and realize that while my laundry-vest idea was absurd this self-haircut cleaning vest surpassed it on the absurdity meter in a most spectacular manner.
I can’t tell you how delighted I am to learn that there is a gift out there for the person who hates paying for a haircut but is bothered by the mess created by cutting their own hair at home. Also this person would have to be of the opinion that garbage bags, newspapers, brooms, vacuums and affordable plastic sheeting all do an inferior job of hair-waste management .
I do have some questions though;
1. Why is this product marketed to people cutting their own hair? Theoretically, couldn’t this product be used by a person cutting someone else’s hair that doesn’t want to clean up the mess.
2. If someone is so cheap that they cut their own hair, are they really the type of people that are going to shell out the cash about $13) for a hair-catching vest? Are they really going to be able to justify this purchase?
3. It appears that for this “device” (I use that term loosely) to be effective you have to cut your hair standing up. Do not named Richie Tenenbaum people cut their hair standing up?
4. How do you cut the back?
5. Doesn’t it look like this guy on the package is smiling just a bit too much?
6. Does the vest qualify as appropriate attire for casual fridays? or is it too formal?
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: Ako, autumn, dancing, danger, festival, heroics, Japan, mikoshi, Misaki, shi shi, tengu
The Shi Shi; In better circumstances for dancing
The Shi Shi–a mythical snarling lion–bobbed its head up and down in a series of fluent movements. Occasionally, it would stop and erratically shake its mane, shedding white strips on the floor. The men surrounding it shouted “yanyoi!”(give up?). Suddenly, in a quick direct movement is thrust its head up, inches from me. After a momentary pause, it tried to drop its head back towards the ground, but stopped abruptly midway down. The Shi Shi was caught on something. With the light above me shaking, I noticed the pull-chain from the overhead lamp was protruding from the lion’s mouth. The two men operating the suit attempted to shake free. I wanted to yell “stop” but in the panic I had forgotten how. Instead, I thrust my hand into the beast’s mouth yelling “matte, matte!” (wait, wait). It was quite tangled; however, with some clever maneuvering we were able to free the costume and avert electrocuting any mythical creatures for the evening.
Seconds from near tragedy. Don't try this at Home kids.
In some sense, every season is festival season in Japan. Autumn can make its claim to the title as shrines across Japan hold festivals to celebrate the rice harvest. This happens nearly every weekend–and sometimes weekdays–throughout October, as the celebrations are for each shrine or neighborhood and are staggered throughout the month. As they are for different shrines, each festival has it’s own unique imprint on traditions costume and dress, and the festivals depending on where they are located and the size of the shrine can be local affairs or events with national recognition. Last weekend I had the pleasure of attending my girlfriend’s neighborhood’s festival, which was a small, intimate but extremely lively affair.
In the morning the portable shrine, called a Mikoshi, is carried out of the shrine in a parade like manner with many locals carrying the shrine or playing the role of a fabled character related ot the shrine. The Mikoshi can vary in size and number– some being about the same size as a typical litter (not the cat type) while other can be large, multi-story tall structures that have to be pushed on carts. The Mikoshi–which houses the temple god– is then taken to a sacred spot in town. Presumably, this is like a day trip vacation for the temple god. Everyone gathers for the day and depending on the shrine, there are usually some sacraments performed involving children and then at night a bigger parade forms when the shrine is taken back to the temple.
At the particular festival I attended, the night parade involved traditional dances by men dressed as both the aforementioned Shi Shi–which is the rather iconic looking lion figure as well Tengu–a half-bird, half-human demon (although not necessarily evil). Both of these creatures are major characters in Japanese folklore– from what I have read, the Tengu was traditionally a conniving villan of sorts until about two centuries ago when it started appearing as an aid to monks or travelers in certain stories. Either way, I wasn’t able to discern what their roles where in this particular story, nor their affiliation to the shrine, but I did like their moves.
With the roadside fires lit, I knew they would be dancing through the street on their way back to the shrine–a route which passed just in front of my girlfriend’s house. What I did not know was that they would be doing a dinner performance as well. I heard them in the distance as we ate, I was a little surprised to suddenly find myself dodging the jaws of the Shi Shi–and then ultimately rescuing from the danger of modern life.
Apparently, it is local custom for children of one year of age to place their hand in the Shi Shi’s mouth to receive good luck. I’m about 25 years too late for that(although I may act that age at times), but as I am one year Japanese I’m hoping I deceive the gods into the same result.
Trick or Treat. Tengu and Shi Shi
Filed under: Japan, Uncategorized | Tags: awkward, classy, Japan, lady shapes with Alan Partridge, not even in Europe pal, social interaction, The Berlusconi, trains
The train home from Kobe last night was bit crowded. My girlfriend was able to grab a seat, but I had to stand next in the aisle and brace myself by holding on to a ring hanging from the ceiling. Next to my girlfriend was an old man. The old man was part of some local tour group. He had a booklet, a full backpack and he was eating an assortment of rice balls. As a person who eats breakfast on the train once a week I’ll refrain from criticizing his etiquette too much, but it’s one thing to down a donut in an empty train and another to have a hot meal during rush hour. My girlfriend didn’t seem entirely pleased to be sitting next to him, but she wasn’t about to give up her seat.
Then he opened his newspaper; double-page wide, his left arm stretched well into her personal space. This is rude on it’s own, but it was exacerbated by the fact that that he opened to the exact page that happened to have a half-page black and white picture of a naked woman. Classy. I don’t want to get into detail, but let’s say the woman in the picture was proportioned in a way that made everyone in the area (did I mentioned it was a crowded train?) simultaneously double-take. Luckily for everyone involved (and extra luckily for my girlfriend), the old man was kind enough not to hastily turn the page. For some reason, I want to name this man’s maneuver The Berlusconi–I just feel it’s appropriate.
This seems like a perfect moment to go with something completely different and share some cartoon mascot I have seen around Japan.
Ako's mascot.
Dad? what are you doing here?
Dad, why are you a castle?
all dogs repair locks.
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: 27 letters, bags, fail, fial, Japan, Language, letters, meetign the standards or American Way Magazine, owls, Teaching
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: Ando, Archimbaldo, art, hyogo, Japan, Prefectural Art Museum, Tadao, Visual Deception
This weekend I went to the Hyogo Prefectural Museum of Art. The museum is a little far from me– about an hour and half away (one stop past Sannomiya); however, their current exhibition, Visual Deception, seemed like proper impetus to make the trip.
Tadao Ando designed the museum, so the building itself was part of the draw as well. I have been impressed with his buildings whenever I encounter them. The Contemporary Art Museum in St.Louis was probably my first cognizant exposure to Ando’s work. I also like the that a former boxer from Osaka who never received any formal architectural training has this great sense of shape and framing the amazing views his buildings create. It’s like someone gave Avon Barksdale a T-square.
Ando is perhaps most famous for his concrete construction method where many of the interior and exterior walls are simple, smooth (yet not flawless) exposed concrete slabs. He is not the first architect to use this method (so I’m told) but the way he uses it and his consistency with the material have made it a signature of his work.
play stairway to museum
The Hyogo Prefectural Museum was unlike the Contemporary Museum in many ways; namely it was bigger and used a much darker color pallet for the ceiling and walkway ornamentation (if one could call it that). A first I wasn’t sure how I felt about the building. From the exterior there are hints that it might be part of some terrible future dystopia imagined in the 80’s. Inside, however, the building is really quite elegant. There are a number of long, geometrically-magnificent spaces. The stairways range from the massive and wide forum variety to winding Escher-like narrow stairs that spiral down wall of rectangular corridor. The darker pallet also helps to balance out large amount of light pulled from the outside. Without a dark colored ceiling the contrast between the spaces and the sight lines created would be lost.
While I enjoyed the building, the way the exhibition was highly imperfect. Apparently in Japan, and exhibition cannot sell out. This means people funnel in to the exhibit as quickly as they can. Unfortunately for me, this was a fairly popular exhibit.
more stairways
My girlfriend and I were smart enough to buy tickets to the exhibition at the train station–who knew you could do that–and this allowed us to bypass the ticket-buying line which reports suggested was about an hour long. However, we still had to wait ten minutes in the Exhibition entrance-line. This was not terrible, however the opening room to the exhibition was extremely crowded. The room itself was large, however everyone was crammed along intermittent pieces of wall space that held the works of art. The Exhibits signature pieces by Giuseppe Achimboldo (below) were particularly crowded.
This guy's a vegetable
The entire scene was pretty much a foreigner’s nightmare museum experience.It hit a number of the bad museum experience pressure points;
- It’s lots of people who are used to being crammed into trains at rush hour, so they abandon all respect for personal space and cram around you as much as possible.
- It’s a crowd that skews slightly on the elderly side, so they are moving as slowly as possible.
- I am the tallest person, so if I’m in front, I am the one ruining it for everybody–as such I am forced to observe from the back of the pack
- There’s around round of “the new” flu going around (perhaps this is swine flu II, I don’t know) so everyone is either wearing masks that don’t work or sneezing on people wearing mask.
It was a tad bit hellish.
After a few minutes I made the executive decision to forgo context and simply move to ahead of the crowd when possible and try to intimately view a few pieces of art rather than try to see everything trudging along with the mases.
It was a good decision. There were several rooms dealing with the Dutch and French master who developed and played with the depiction of depth and perspective. This was followed room tying in Japanese scroll and Ukiyoe printing into the development of visual illusions and depth before finally taking off with the modern pieces.
The exhibit had one a the more interesting collections of Magritte’s work that I had seen and I really did enjoy, what I perceive to be, his sense of humor about perception and reality. The highlight of the exhibition for me was a piece by Patrick Hughes, which depicts a Venetian style sea city. The piece is painted on a 3D canvas, where the triangular blocks of wood just out from the wall towards you. The scene is painted in such a way that as you move the depth and lighting changes altering what you see and creating the illusion of an actual cityscape.
Overall the exhibit was pretty great. The modern pieces at the end were a nice pay-off. The crowds however did little to change my perspective that museum visits in Japan should be remain rare occurrences.
