The Godzilla of Donuts

On a recent trip to Shinjuku we witnessed the supernatural power of a uniquely southern phenomenon:



Weird. It is also torture when you stand next to someone on the train who just bought 3 dozen and the smell is all around you. The picture below is the wait time - 1 hour and 40 minutes.

Nihon Mingeikan

Coolness--
with one cracked pot
my life alone
-Kobayashi Issa*

Last month I starting writing exhibition reviews for a great visual arts website here in Tokyo called tokyoartbeat. Below is my review of a show at the Japan Folk Crafts Museum.
Exquisite simplicity is the hallmark of the current exhibition, Soetsu Yanagi and Old Tamba Pottery, at the Nihon Mingeikan (Japan Folk Crafts Museum) through March 25th. Celebrating the 70th anniversary of the museum’s founding by Soetsu Yanagi (1889-1961), this exhibition represents a lovely subset of the craftwork shown throughout the space – a beautiful, traditional building of stone, stucco, tile, and wood. As originally conceived by Yanagi, the objects in the museum needed to be “…the work of anonymous craftsmen, produced by hand in quantities, inexpensive, to be used by the masses, functional in daily life, and representative of the region in which it was produced.” Yanagi, along with potters Hamada Shoji and Kawai Kanjiro formed the Mingei (folk art) movement in Japan during the 1920s. The museum’s collection includes pottery, textiles, metalwork, woodcarvings, bamboo work, and other traditional crafts. The approximately 200 Tamba pottery pieces in this show span the Medieval, Kamakura and Edo periods and vary in size from small containers, about 9 cm high, to large floor jars, up to 60 cm in height.
The main display of the pottery is in a large and open exhibition space on the second floor. Around the perimeter are a series of wooden and glass cases, often with a single piece per shelf and subtle, minimal lighting. The method of display corresponds perfectly with the austere quality of the work, which is simple, functional, elegant, and direct. The material totally and fully speaks for itself. A single criticism of the display is that so much of the work is behind glass. It is much harder to notice the subtle differences in this modest work when distracted by reflections. Also, though it is completely impractical in a museum setting, these pieces whisper to be picked up, touched and held – they seduce you. Created primarily as functional objects, the best experience of these pieces would be living with them every day.
Taken as a whole, Yanagi’s pottery collection exhibits a narrow range in terms of surface, color, and form, yet within that continuum there is a wealth of subtle variation. The illusion of simplicity melts away on closer inspection. Ash, iron and drip glazes produce complex surface layering. Colors are muted and earth-toned – rust, burnt umber, chocolate, putty - with hints of olive and moss green appearing now and then. If you take the time to view the pots from several angles, the light strikes the various layers, highlighting new colors. Following the less-is-more aesthetic of all the work in the museum, many pieces have a singular decorative element. One large, bucket-shaped form has a clay rope encircling the center of the pot ending in a simple knot in front, slightly off-center. Another jar has an incised, simplified rosette that utilizes the inherent curve of the figure. A few quick strokes of glaze create an abstracted shrimp on an elongated bottle form. Several pieces showcase a direct leaf imprint and are so delicate they are almost missed unless closely observed. Most pieces are functional jar forms, but again, within that narrow range there are endless subtle variations.

This work captures the wonderful paradox often found in traditional Japanese pottery of intentionally integrating flaws as an essential element. Accidental drips land in just the right spot and a jar lip curves asymmetrically in a way that seems destined. Though the pottery itself is modest, in keeping with the philosophy of the museum’s collection, the calm, reflective mood that a focused observation of it produces is profound. If you enjoy traditional Japanese craft, don’t miss this exhibition of old Tamba pottery - it is the perfect acknowledgement of the beauty of imperfection.

*translation from David G. Lanoue's Haiku Guy website

Nihon Minka-En

Found this place out in the Tokyo burbs called Nihon Minka-En, which translates as something like the "Japan Folk House Open-Air Museum." Sounded interesting, so we went, not knowing what to expect. Gobsmacked! 22 traditional Japanese homes -- some over 300 years old -- laid out over a few wooded hillsides. It was a Wednesday, so we had the place almost to ourselves, and the weather was perfect. These pictures don't really do the place justice, but here goes anyway ...

Shima Onsen

As a final goodbye to our long break, we treated ourselves to an overnight onsen trip, Japanese-style. We booked rooms at a hotspring resort in Shima, a town in Gumma prefecture, a few hours NW of Tokyo. Loading onto the bus, it quickly became apparent that we'd stumbled into a parallel universe, populated by older Japanese folks. We stuck out like sore thumbs, but, by the end, I think we'd become the group's gaijin mascots. The town is a beautiful spot up in the mountains and, after arriving, we quickly suited up in our yukatas and headed for the baths. Our hotel had one on the seventh floor with a big picture window, but the better ones were outdoors (rotenburo) on the bottom level. This spot had one-person wooden tubs continuously fed with hot spring water, as well as larger slate baths with roofs, open on three sides. These baths were good, but the hotel up the road had the four-star baths and, once again, we were trumped by the seasoned onsen veterans, who beat us up there and staked out the best spots as we stumbled up the street in our yukatas (everybody walked around inside and out with them on) trying to figure out where to go. Here are some pictures of the various baths.

We were able to have them all to ourselves on occasion, since many of the grandmas and grandpas seemed to be fairly regimented in taking their baths at certain times. The dinner was spectacular - a feast (for eyes and stomach) of tiny, succulent specimens laid out in a stunning array of dishes. We woke up the next day, took a look outside and it was snowing! The perfect cap on a relaxing getaway. We spent the morning feeding our new-found bathing addictions and then headed upwards for a hike to a nearby dam, in search of Japanese mountain monkeys. No monkeys, but the bluest water we've ever seen. Luckily, the monkeys made an appearance on the bus ride out of town, though we zoomed by too quick for pictures.

Daisuke Matsuzaka's Old Baseball Team

The other day, we scored two tickets to a pre-season pro baseball game: Seibu Lions v. Hiroshima Carp. Lori's student Nori's parents evidently live so close to the stadium that they score free season tickets every year. The trip to the stadium was a trek and the day was cold, but we're glad we went. It's pretty much like baseball in the US: food and booze and a game, in the distance. Both teams had camps of rabid fans in the cheap seats that cheered non-stop with drums, horns, the works. It was easy to see why Nori's parents got their tickets. Three old guys next to us plied us with strange snacks (squid sticks and fish "sausage") and alcohol, and were completely pickled and in a merry mood. The Red Sox's new ace, "Dice-K" Matsuzaka, threw for the Lions last year, and their new "ace" seemed to be giving up lots of hits.

Our New Apartment (Out in the Styx)

It's been a while since our last post. Wha' happ'n? January came and went in a blur of classes and cold weather. Alas, no snow. We're not exactly sure how to account for February, which also seemed to vanish into thin air. It's the shortest month of the year over here, too, so that may help explain why it flew by so quickly. February ended with our move to a Hitachi company apartment in Itabashi, which is still part of Tokyo but which feels very different than our old place in Nishi-Waseda. The apartment itself is a definite upgrade: bigger, newer, and with lots of gadgets to master. (The toilet seat has a remote control, bidet, and is heated, and the bathtub is programmable, emits musical jingles, and updates us on its status in a strangely soothing voice.) Another nice feature: we have a clear view of Mt. Fuji from our front door on a clear day. (That's it between the buildings in the first picture on this page; it looks so much bigger in person.) The neighbors all work at Hitachi and have been extremely kind. Haven't yet met them all but we're gradually matching faces and names. We aren't generating lots of news of late, but that will all change soon. And in July, we'll be back in S.C. which we're both starting to look forward to. For now, here are some pictures from our new digs.