INTERVIEW PERSPECTIVES
SILENT SHADOWS & ELECTRIFYING NEON Paul Knipe finds the essence of Japan coexisting in the traditional buildings and modern skyscrapers of the mighty Honshu cities
I ARRIVE in Narita airport, Tokyo, after a straightforward enough flight with Air France. I’m not here on business but holiday – my friend Sarah is helping to install an exhibition in Osaka and I’ve come along for the ride. I’ve read a bit about Japan. I briefly studied Japanese surrealism and have touched on Zen Buddhism in the past. I’ve also read popular classics like Memoirs of a Geisha and a couple of Murakami’s novels. I spent several years learning theories about the city, from Plato’s Republic through to recent government white papers and development theories abroad. Themes of identity, memory and experience – a so called postmodern way of looking at cities – interest me the most. 2 │ LUCID MAGAZINE
And here I am, soon to embrace Tokyo’s public transport system. My aim is simply to notate what I see – I may refer to some theory if I feel it necessary. Hopefully, I’ll be able to capture something of the people and the cities I encounter. *** Tokyo Negotiating the transport system in Tokyo and its environs is surprisingly easy, even if, like me, you don’t speak a word of Japanese. I’m on the Narita Express bound for Shinjuku in western Tokyo within an hour of touching down in Japan. From there I get a taxi to the Tokyo Prince Hotel. It’s mid-September and the weather is hot, sunny and humid. Just over 30 degrees. I wander north from the hotel.
I’m taken aback by the calm of the city streets in this district. It is quiet, laid-back – not the permanent bustling crowds I was expecting. Small Shinto shrines rub shoulders with their Buddhist counterparts. I sit in a garden and reflect on the morning’s ride from the airport. To Westerners, Tokyo is synonymous with efficiency. So far this view is fully justified as the transport system runs like clockwork, carrying millions across the city with ease. All the signposts and subways have the roman lettering too, making it easy for foreigners. The streets are clean, the wide boulevards smart. I walk past the 330 meter Tokyo Tower, inspired by the Eiffel Tower. Its red and white
PERSPECTIVES INTERVIEW NEWS of bamboo trees. Sarah arrives later having taken a JAL flight from Heathrow. We stroll to Roppongi. The area is a change: bright lights, western bars, street hawkers and much more energy about it. A raised expressway cuts across the main junction. This is common in Tokyo, testament to Japan’s commitment to efficiency that sometimes comes at the expense of city vistas. We find a tiny door with cotton towels covered in kanji script that hang from the frame down to shoulder height. Upstairs we are subjected to our first real communication problem trying to order a meal, but in the end I get the freshest sushi I’ve ever tasted and a glass of umeshu – plum liquor. *** We stroll east under the Shinkansen line, known to Westerners as the Bullet Train. Next to it are several layers of networks: a monorail winding through the skyscrapers, a raised expressway, and the JR loop line that circles the centre of Tokyo. It is very quiet again; I find out later that today is a national holiday – keiro no hi or ‘Respect Elders Day’. Just beyond the Shinkansen is Hana Rikyu Teien park. It is my first experience of a Japanese park and it is not a disappointment. Arcing bridges and walkways cross ponds against a backdrop of sculpted bushes and small manmade hills. The park is framed by
skyscrapers on three sides and the mouth of the Sumida river on the fourth. We catch a ferry up the river to Akasuka district in the north-east of Tokyo. As the journey progresses the architecture changes from tall glass buildings set in gardens, to a lower rise more compact urban scene, closer to my perception of a Japanese vernacular. Again I’m struck by the expressways that weave through the buildings along the banks and criss-cross the river, sometimes stacked four roads high. Standing on the deck, wind in my face and noise around me, I wonder about Japan’s identity. Am I wrong to suggest that these lower rise buildings are the vernacular? Are the modern, international style buildings more representative of today’s Japan? For now I hold thought and enjoy the view – over the next fortnight I’m sure there will be plenty more opportunities to explore the juxtaposition of tradition and modernity. Off the ferry we’re hit by oriental smells and bustling crowds, reminiscent of Kowloon or Bangkok. Instantly there is a feeling of a richer history and a more embedded culture. We pass Senso-ji, an enclosure of Buddhist temples, and continue west to Nakamise-dori, a street that is now famous for selling plastic imitations of food, platters and drinks that restaurants display all over Japan. It is a wonderful phenomenon that has become a tourist
attraction in its own right. Back across the Sumida homeless men have created elaborate tents for themselves out of tarpaulin, boxes and other found objects. I’m mildly surprised by this as beggars and homeless seem practically nonexistent in central Tokyo. I wonder if they’re here because of the raised express way above, shading the path from the elements, and the lack of people – the riverside in Tokyo is much less of a focal point than the Thames or the Seine. We arrive at the Kokugikan – the national Sumo stadium. We’re in luck: there are only three tournaments annually in Tokyo lasting 15 days apiece, and we’re right in the middle of one. The typical daily spectacle begins with apprentices and future stars battling and progresses to the celebrity professionals. And we’ve arrived just as the big boys are about to take to the stage. The Sumo ritual is an art form. The wrestlers enter the small circle, throw salt to purify the area and raise their legs to stamp out evil spirits. They face-off – eyeballing each other to get the mental high ground – and then they attack at a furious pace. It’s all over in a matter of seconds; the winner has caused his opponent to touch the floor with anything other than the soles of his feet or thrown him out of the ring. The combination of graceful tradition and raw power is unlike anything I’ve experienced
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PERSPECTIVES
on show. From an aesthetic point of view it is the Tokyo I had imagined – neon bill boards crowd buildings 20, perhaps 30 stories high; raised railways cut through the cityscape above you, and scores of trendy Tokyoites fill the streets. This is a Mecca for the electric materialist, Bladerunner but without the malice. We stop at a traditional tea house on the third floor of a sidestreet, a good vantage point for watching the
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bright lights. It is a curious juxtaposition – the polished hard wood, brass decor and twee pottery, set against the explosion of energy outside. This combination is a vivid statement of Japanese identity, adding fuel for my thoughts about modernity versus tradition. *** Jet-lag. The early hours, wide awake. Time drawn out in the darkest point of the night is the worst. In this quiet metropolis, am I the only one awake? *** Across from the Imperial Palace Gardens in Tokyo Central is the financial heart of the city where glass skyscrapers nestle together, glinting like giant diamonds. I love these parts of great cities, on the face of it there is never anything remarkable about one as opposed to any other – buildings, traffic and suit-clad economists abound. Yet between the buildings and on the fringes, servicing the workers, are often the most intriguing places of all; places where cultural uniqueness can be found. Hibiya is one of these places. Nestling beneath the arches of the
Shinkansen line is an array of intricate little shops and restaurants. Here, in the shadows of the skyscrapers, age-old Japanese customs are played out on a daily basis – where the smell of local cuisine and the sound of drink-fuelled chatter drift from the cavernous depths. The combination of modern Japan and its traditional culture seems to work together effortlessly. Hibiya and the financial district are mutually dependent on each other; both are equals in the metropolis. That evening we head west to Shibuya and Shinjuku: areas that are famous entertainment districts, with shops selling the latest fashions and bars that close when the first commuter trains start running. Crowds of young people sporting the trendiest contemporary attire pack the streets. Like Akiharbara the buildings are covered with neon lights, in the main plaza a 50ft screen broadcasts an infinite advert from on high. Two stops north, in Shinjuku, the bars become increasingly racy and the clientele more adult. Here there are venues to satisfy the most sordid of whims. We descend into a bar just off the
PERSPECTIVES
main boulevard. It’s dark but not sinister; couples and small groups hunch together focused on conversation. Behind the bar are Japanese liquor bottles whose labels are colourful and covered in kanji symbols. They are more intriguing than a work of art and my utter incomprehension merely adds to the picture being presented. Eventually a small group becomes interested in us – the only westerners in the bar – and we start chatting. Their broken English and our gesturing afford us a fascinating conversation and we get on famously. I’m finding that people in Tokyo are friendly, helpful, and humble – contrary to some views in the West. I wonder if this may be a more recent development in Japanese character since the war, or with the onset of globalisation. *** Up Roppongi Hills skyscraper there is a viewing platform on the 52nd floor. It is nearly midnight. From
up here the great city stretches away into the distance in all directions. Pinpricks of light cover the earth like a blanket of stars; tangles of lines – networks of roads and rail – spread out to the horizon. *** Tsukiji fish market is the biggest in the world and quite a spectacle. It supplies 95% of Tokyo’s fish everyday with container lorries and fishing vessels arriving from all parts of Japan and the surrounding seas. Crowds of workers cut large tunas that let out steam when they’re gutted. The market is our last taste of Tokyo before we head to Tokyo Central station. The Shinkansen was the fastest train when it was devised and built in the 1980s. It has still only been surpassed by the Eurostar and TGV in France. I’m excited by the prospect of the Shinkansen – it is something that I’ve always wanted to experience and now here I am as it pulls into the station one minute
before its scheduled departure. There are three types of Shinkansen – we’ve got the Nozomi superexpress that has a beak like face similar to a duck-billed platypus. The south coast of Honshu between Tokyo and Hiroshima is either built up or too hilly to build on. In the cities the line is always raised, sometimes five stories high. The speed and elegance of the ride gives the impression that you’re flying between the skyscrapers and over the houses. A short jingle announces that you’ve arrived at the next station. Kyoto Kyoto is the traditional centre of Japan, one of a handful of cities that was spared the bombing raids of WWII. We stroll east towards the Kamo river. Flanking the west bank are a few narrow alleys making up Pontocho. Two storey wooden buildings line the dark streets; their appearance is uninviting to those not in the know. The LUCID MAGAZINE │5
INTERVIEW PERSPECTIVES
Q: You’ve got big shoes to fill. How are u coping with the pressure? A: It’s a bit difficult to cope with because everybody’s expecting a brilliant performance and those who aren't expecting an excellent performance are expecting you to flop so bad because they know that he was so good. It’s a challenge coping with over 50 coaches, everyone having his own dimension and agenda. You come with your own personality. This is my first radio job. So it’s a myriad of challenges. But I’m trying, I’m coping. Q: Did you get any words of advice from Komla Dumor? A: I did actually. I worked for a week with him on set. We did a combination for a week and a half before we finally rolled over to me. Beyond what we did on set we did a lot of talking off set and he passed on quite a good number of tips to me on how to get by. Q: What’s the one you remember most? A: Enjoy it! Q: What’s been the reaction of your friends and colleagues to you getting this highly-sought after job? A: It’s a combination of different reactions. There are some who are excited and supportive. There are some who really don’t believe you can do it. There are some who actually think that it’s really not me because I used to have another name in school. I had a Christian name which I used in school. But then on radio you have to get a name that will go along with your persona so I replaced it with my local name Kojo. And there are some who even think it’s not me. But some are helpful. Some think you won’t make it. But you take all these things in your stride and then you try harder. Q: How do the older members treat you? A: The older members at Joy are supportive. I think it also has to do with the subject matter that you deal with and the maturity and the substance that you bring to whatever discussion you’re doing. Irrespective of your age, if you’re able to do that well then you get the respect and support of everybody, regardless of their age they’ll treat you as an 6 │ LUCID MAGAZINE
equal. But I’ve had a couple of interviews with some Ministers who’ve tried to play on the fact that someone has told them that I’m a young bloke and they just try to use that. But the reverse of it is that you also then start thinking that I have to accord him some respect. You have to grow out of that fear. I remember my first week on the job alone I did a lot of Sir, yes sir, yes sir because I was having to grow out of the age bracket but I think it’s working well now. Q: Who’s been the most memorable person that you’ve interviewed in these first few weeks and why? A: I think the most memorable person that I’ve interviewed in the last few weeks would be the foreign minister. Nana Akuffo Addo. Why? Because we had information from some Ghanaian journalists who went with him on a trip to Gambia. They came back and said that the African Union protocol on democracy and governance had been rejected and we did a promo and some research on that and it was all over the net. We did our script and everything based on that. So I got on air, I think it was my second week or so, on that basis that it had been rejected. But why would they reject a protocol that says that no African leader can change their constitution and stay in power because that should be good for us. So I got on air asking all these questions and then I got him to respond to my questions. He called in, we put him on air. Then he comes with his first question to me, “Who told you its been rejected?” So he then was doing the interview [on me]. And I think it was my very first hot day in the seat. It was exciting afterwards because other networks picked up on the interview. Well actually now its been cleared. So what started for me as a not very comfortable experience rather turned out pretty well. It wasn’t actually rejected. They had withdrawn it, according to him to do some more fine tuning before they bring it back to the table. Q: Before you were in the UK. What made you decide to return to Ghana? A: [Because maybe I’m wrong but] I always thought that I’d have better opportunities here in Ghana. It’s not that I think I’m not able to compete with people on the world market. I have been able to compete on the
worlhe people I look up to.
PERSPECTIVES INTERVIEW NEWS
menu has a counterpart in Roman letters. The Pontocho restaurants reflect an important private side to the Japanese, traditional traits linked to history and religion. For over 200 years Japan was in isolation after the Shogun Ieyasu Tokugawa passed a law that forbade the Japanese from going abroad in 1635. Western books and Chinese scripts were banned – only a small amount of trade remained with the Dutch, and this was confined to Dejima Island in Nagasaki Bay. During this period Japanese identity was strengthened, and it was not until the 1850s that Japan opened her borders following some heavyhanded negotiation from American Commodore Matthew Perry. Religion also encourages these characteristics, with many residents practising Japanese derived Buddhism with its origins in pure contemplative, spiritual philosophy. Later that evening we see a geisha with several business men. She is enchanting, beautiful and elegant. Like an endangered bird she glides through the dark street, commanding respect from all around her. Then she is gone. The customs of the mysterious geisha add strength to the exclusive side of the Japanese character. Beautiful in its own right, its mysteriousness is its very appeal. Silence, contemplation, intimacy Behind a large pond of Koy Carp and water lilies is the Golden Temple. From certain angles the golden
walls and curving eaves are reflected in the water, a moving image broken by the gentle ripples. For a fleeting moment I’m transported to a different age, one that is tranquil and contemplative, unspoiled by the motor engine and globalisation. The arrival of a large group of chattering school children brings me back to the present. A 15 minute walk south-west is Ryoanji temple, famous for its master sculpted garden of raked white pebbles and 15 rocks. The minimalist space has no trees and no shrubs, the rocks rise out of the pebbles like miniature minhirs. Barely any words are spoken by the row of tourists that sit on the veranda and contemplate the scene, the garden having a different effect on each. Simplicity and silence is the essence, a key component of the Buddhist teachings. I look at the row of tourists and guess their nationalities – Australian, American, Dutch, Japanese, African. What are they thinking? Such a simple scene, such a powerful effect. In the evening we cross the river to Gion – the setting for Memoirs of a Geisha. We pass Minimiza Theatre, home to kabuki festivals, and head two blocks west to Shinbashi
Dori. This is one of the most beautiful streets I’ve ever seen. It is similar to Pontocho but with a more traditional essence, perhaps due to less electric lighting, or at least lighting dulled by red paper lanterns. It is mysterious and dark, only occasionally disturbed as a local businessman emerges and disappears into the shadows. We can’t visit this place and not see what lies within. The only venue on the street that has roman lettering is the Loop bar. It is strikingly intimate – the bar can host a maximum of six people downstairs. Two businessmen sit in the corner smoking cigarettes, one young, trendy with short black hair, opencollared shirt and charcoal grey suit. He could be in any bar in any city in the world. The other is an older man; his greying hair and angled bushy eyebrows give an aura of wisdom that is stereotypically oriental. Neither talks. Nara A lot has been written about Nara: it is the ancient capital of Japan and home to some of the best preserved and most famous temples, in this sense a rival to Kyoto. I was rather apprehensive about Nara. A honey-pot tourist destination ■ LUCID MAGAZINE │7