J a p a n h a s f r equently shown its support for Japan-
e s e fi l m m a k i n g ,
e a c h t i m e h i g hlighting a different facet of the 7th Art This time, we’d like to focus on the many different ways small cinema theatres help to promote films.
H o w e v e r , t h e y a r e u n d e r t h r e a t . T h e coronavirus crisis has had a great impact on them as well as the important work of independent film distributors Numerous initiatives have been launched to help t h e m o u t , a n d w e w a n t t o j o i n i n t h i s
s p i r i t o f s o l i d a r i t y b y f e a t u r i n g s o m e examples of small cinemas that are determined to continue their fight for survival THE EDITORIAL TEAM info@zoomjapan info
120 km/h.
That’s the maximum speed cars are allowed to travel on some motorways compared to 100 km/h previously. This only concerns certain stretches, which have a low accident rate and are "designed to be safe even at speeds of up to 120 km/h”. It applies only to cars as HGVs must still observe a speed limit of 80 km/h.
IN THE EYE OF ERIC RECHSTEINER
Sendagaya, Shibuya Ward, Tokyo
On 23 July, the opening ceremony of the Tokyo Olympic Games 2020 was due to take place The coronavirus crisis prompted the Japanese authorities, under pressure from the International Olympic Committee and the general public, to delay the competition for a year However, some Japanese do not want the capital city to host the sporting event and, on 23 July, again expressed its opposition by marching in front of the the new Olympic Stadium designed by Kuma Kengo.
SPORT Miura’s oldest footballer record
Footballer Miura Kazuyoshi continues to break the record for the oldest footballer in the world. The 53-year-old forward, who inspired the character of Oliver Atton in the animated series Olive and Tom, has just broken another record Sporting his Yokohama Club colours in the Levain Cup, he became the oldest footballer to play in a professional match.
ECONOMY Japan moves closer to London
After leaving the European Union on 31 January, the United Kingdom must negotiate its own trade deals with many of the world’s large economic powers. Japan could be the first country to sign a free-trade agreement with London. At the beginning of August, a press announcement stated that “an agreement is close between the United Kingdom and Japan”.
SOS for independent cinema
Under threat from the coronavirus crisis, independent film theatres must be saved to preserve Japanese cinema.
In Japan, where small and compact is beautiful, they call them “mini theatres”. They are independent cinemas characterized by a smaller size and seating capacity (typically 200 people or fewer) in comparison to larger cinemas They have been around for many years and have historically contributed to the support and nurture art-house films from abroad as well as Japanese indie films
First appearing in the mid-1970s, mini theatres increased dramatically in number in the 1980s and continued to thrive in the following decade in spite of growing competition from multiplexes “Japan's first multiplex was opened in Ebina in 1993 by Warner Mycal and was quickly followed by others,” says film critic and Japanese cinema expert Mark Schilling ”However, mini theatres coped better than expected with the rise of multiplexes The main reason was that they served very different audiences: the multiplexes mostly showed Japanese commercial films and Hollywood block-
busters while mini theatres focused on Japanese indie films and foreign art-house films Also, as the market for foreign art-house films has declined over the past two decades, Japanese indies have taken up much of the slack The number of Japanese film releases rose from 282 in 2000 to 687 in 2019, and most of the increase was accounted for by indie films ”
Despite these apparently encouraging figures, it is also true that the last 20 years have not been kind to the mini theatre business model. While multiplexes are now an inescapable presence throughout the country, dwindling audiences and prohibitive operating costs have forced many independent cinemas to close down, especially in the small towns, and even in bigger markets like Tokyo and Osaka, mini theatres are disappearing one after another.
“Right now, out of a total of 600 cinemas, there are 240 mini theatres in Japan,” says film director Funahashi Atsushi “That represents 40% of all Japanese cinemas. However, when we consider the number of screens, mini theatres only represent 12% of the total as each of them has no more than one or two screens while in the case of mul-
tiplexes you can find up to ten screens under one roof ” Actually, as of 2019, according to data from the Motion Picture Producers Association of Japan, there were 3,165 multiplex screens out of a total of 3,583 (the rest includes other kinds of independent cinemas – e.g. the adult-film circuit and other establishments that show a mix of arthouse films and blockbusters – which can ’ t be defined as mini theatres)
If this was not enough, the COVID-19 pandemic has hit the indie market hard, prompting many people to come to its rescue with a series of advocacy movements and crowdfunding campaigns While the history of mini theatres officially started in the mid-70s, the idea of distributing and showing art-house films was first conceived by members of the countercultural movement of the 1960s and in particular by the Art Theatre Guild (ATG), a film distribution company founded in 1961 to distribute European art-house films in Japan, which later went on to produce works by Japanese directors. Their main venue, the Art Theatre Shinjuku Bunka, was a small dark cinema where any kind of flashy advertising was banished Manager Kuzui took films seriously, and the au-
Iwanami Hall, in Tokyo’s Jimbocho district, is one of the mini theatres where foreign art-house cinema is vigorously defended
dience could not just come and go during a show like they did in other cinemas. In 1967, Kuzui had an even smaller cinema built in the basement of the same building in order to show avant-garde films including 8mm and 16mm films That was the Sasori-za, whose opening show was Adachi Masao’s Galaxy
Shinjuku Bunka and Sasori-za were the prototypes for all the small art-movie cinemas that came later. At the same time, though, Sasori-za quickly evolved in such a way that any kind of experimental performance art was accepted, from films to dance and music (even the great butoh choreographer Hijikata Tatsumi performed there).
While ATG’s distribution model and its mission of educating viewers were unconventional, they found an eager audience hungry for a different kind of film culture. It was thanks to ATG that Japanese filmgoers had a chance to see such works as Vittorio De Sica’s Umberto D, Alain Resnais’s Last Year at Marienbad, and Ingmar Bergman’s Wild Strawberries and The Seventh Seal. Fast-forward about ten years, and a new film distribution project called Equipe de Cinema was launched in 1974 by Takano Etsuko and Kawakita Kashiko. Film curator and ATG member Kawakita, popularly known abroad as “Madame Kawakita”, had pioneered the import of foreign films to Japan through Towa Shoji, a small company she founded with her husband. Later she formed Nihon Arto Shiata Undo no Kai (Japan Art Theatre Movement Party) with the aim of establishing theatres that would show art films
As for Takano, she was general manager of Iwanami Hall, a multipurpose hall built by Iwanami Shoten, one of Japan’s biggest publishing companies The two women turned Iwanami Hall into a theatre and started showcasing foreign films from littleknown countries such as Bulgaria, Poland, Chile and Cyprus In the second issue of their newsletter, Equipe de Cinema (1974), they stated that “Our primary mission is to uncover hidden masterpieces and show them to the public, and to spotlight film producing countries, and specifically to focus on new and powerful directors from the third world.”
Following Iwanami Hall’s example, mini theatres steadily grew in number and gained popularity thanks to a novel curatorial approach favouring films with social themes, which were once considered inappropriate for film distribution, and the work of unknown female directors While some focused on foreign art-house films, others took the lead in releasing cutting-edge films by littleknown Japanese filmmakers, thus triggering the revival of quality domestic film production
Among other things, mini theatres introduced a new way to spread the word about their film programming While commercial cinemas promoted mass-appeal blockbusters via newspapers, magazines,
and commercials on TV, mini theatres produced their own fliers, programmes and information leaflets for members These colourful booklets were full of information and photographs, and appealed to the kind of film buffs who made up the majority of mini theatre patrons. However, the emergence and proliferation of multiplexes in the 21st century saturated the film market and weakened mini theatres’ ability to attract filmgoers. The change in audience demographics and viewing habits, coupled with the diversification of media and content providers (e g on-demand online streaming), caused the restructuring of unprofitable business operations and led to the closure of many mini theatres
“In contrast to such countries as France and South Korea, many cultural outlets including mini theatres are not protected by the Japanese government, ” Funahashi says “The main problem is that until now, nobody had provided a clear definition of what an art-house cinema is In Korea, for example, there is a public organization that regulates these things, and all those cinemas that can prove that two-thirds of the titles they show annually are art-house films, are entitled to financial help. So when we started lobbying the
government through our Save the Cinema campaign, we had to come up with a definition that distinguished small independent cinemas from multiplexes We had to demonstrate that mini theatres do things that commercial cinemas don’t do, such as curating retrospectives and festivals devoted to particular directors or film trends
These initiatives can be compared to what museums and art galleries do, and don’t necessarily make money. In fact, sometimes they end up losing money ”
The overwhelmingly positive response to this and other campaigns has demonstrated that people appreciate mini theatres’ curatorial approach to film programming “Actually, when we started asking for financial help, we got several negative comments from people who thought that those working in cinema were not the only ones who were suffering,” Funahashi says “They questioned our right to be rescued, considering that many other businesses were experiencing the same problems That, by the way, is the same reaction live venues and theatres were getting There was this backlash from people who thought that we didn’t
deserve any special treatment So we all got together and decided to coordinate our actions to get our message through that music, film and theatre are important cultural assets and we need to save these venues because there is public value in what they do: very simply, people need culture.”
Schilling agrees that independent mini theatres are a vital part of the Japanese film business “Without mini theatres, most filmmakers here, including those whose films are invited to Cannes and other major festivals, could not get their films released If they disappeared, the situation would revert to the 1950s, when the Japanese film market only comprised the six major studios. Actually, it would be even worse because the old studios nurtured young talent in ways that present-day studios cannot
“The directors of commercial films today come mostly from TV networks, where they direct TV dramas, or from the ranks of indie film makers such as Miike Takashi and Hiroki Ryuichi But Miike, Hiroki and others like them made most of their best films when they were still working as independents and were freer to experiment and innovate As makers of commercial films for the multiplexes, they have to please a mass audience that wants to see their favourite manga or novel or TV show on the big screen, not a director's individual vision ”
Funahashi points out an interesting fact that further stresses the important role played by mini theatres in the current film market “According to last year ’ s data,” he says, “about half of all films that came out in Japan were only shown in mini theatres They include documentaries, indie and small-budget films and other titles not considered commercial enough to appeal to a large number of people. Mini theatres, in other words, provide an important niche for all kinds of quality films that could not otherwise be seen by cinema fans in Japan. If you consider this from the film makers point of view, many directors including myself would have nowhere to show their own work “When you think about award-winning, internationally known directors such as Koji Fukada and Ryusuke Hamaguchi – just to name a couple of people who are behind the Mini Theatre Aid campaign – they owe a lot to art-house cinemas It was thanks to this network of mostly small cinema theatres that we were able to pursue our projects and grow as creators Now they are facing a hard battle for their survival Four mini theatres have already closed because of the pandemic, and more may follow in the near future. That’s why the time has come to give something back and show them our appreciation for their support over the years. But it’s not just about us: we have to make sure mini theatres survive so even our children will be able to enjoy a more diverse cinematic culture “ GIANNI SIMONE
DISTRIBUTION Battle to keep the heart beating
Film distributors are facing the same difficult situation as the small cinemas they supply.
Mini theatres are often praised for showing beautiful, engaging and intelligent films Without these independent art-houses, everybody agrees that cinema would be less diverse and definitely more boring But there is another indispensable part of the film industry about which nobody talks about: the distributors They travel to film festivals and check out foreign markets in search of interesting titles, which they then try to place in cinemas around the country In other words, it’s the distributors who do all the hard work yet their indispensable role is seldom acknowledged. One of these people is Yamanaka Yoko. Yamanaka founded her company, Cetera International, in 1989, after working for two years for another distributor where she learned everything she needed to know about buying films and acquiring film rights It’s a small company (Yamanaka has a staff of four), and distributes about 3-4 films per year “For each film we need to start working six months before it ’ s shown in cinemas,” Yamanaka says, “and we also handle the publicity, write copy for magazines and do interviews It’s a lot of work and we are a small company, so for us moving four titles in one year is enough Actually, we also do about 3-4 straight-to-video and straight-to-TV titles, which don’t require a lot of work on our part “When distributors buy a film, they even acquire the rights for other media such as video/DVD and television Today, everything is streamed online through video-on-demand services, but in the past the video market was an important source of revenue and in the late 1980s and early ‘90s it was booming, so it was a relatively easy period from an economic, even for a young person starting out. The distribution business is very unpredictable; you never know how things are going to develop You constantly need to be on the look out for new trends while at the same time trying not to compromise your ideas This line of work is not for everyone, and you ’ re definitely not going to get rich doing it. Above all, you have to love films. Every time you commit to a film, you never know if you ’ re going to recoup the money you ’ ve invested ” Cetera International specializes in European films, and in recent years has brought such works as Ferzan Ozpetek’s Mine vaganti and Alexander Sokurov’s Faust to Japan “Many of the films screened in Japan are Hollywood
YAMANAKA Yoko manages Cetera International, which she founded in 1989
blockbusters,” Yamanaka says, “but I’ve always been attracted more to Europe. Many people in Japan are still quite ignorant about the outside world, particularly the West, and through cinema you can learn a lot about each country ’ s history and culture, and its social and religious issues It’s also important to showcase the artistic accomplishments of European directors A lot of American culture is consumed quickly and soon forgotten. In comparison, a good number of European titles have more depth; they have the power to make you think France, in particular, is where cinema was born, thanks to the Lumiere brothers, which already makes it a special place for me I’ve loved French films for a l o n g t i m e , a n d I m a d e i t m y m i s s i o n t o introduce some of them to a larger public here in Japan. At Cetera International we have developed a particularly strong relationship with Arnaud Desplechin and distributed five of his films ” Yamanaka’s love for French cinema, and even her career choice, is inextricably linked to Gerard Philipe “He’s the first film star I fell in love with,” she says “Back in 1989, I found out that one of his films had never been shown to Japan, so I bought the rights to it because I wanted to see it myself Then in 1996 or ’97, I did my first Gerard Philipe retrospective ” In the following 3 1 y e a r s , Y a m a n a k a h a s d e v o t e d fi v e m o r e festivals to her idol while focusing part of her work on the revival of classic European works
“When I put on that first festival, I received two boxes of letters from all over Japan from fans who wanted to thank me Some people wrote, ‘I was so happy to see Gerard Philipe again at the cinema after all these years ’ The work of distributors is usually invisible, so I was very surprised It also strengthened my resolve to create opportunities for people to enjoy old films on the big screen again.”
In the late 1980s, when Yamanaka founded her company, foreign films dominated Japanese cinema In 1989, for instance, a staggering 522 foreign films where shown compared to 255 Japanese titles. Led by Hollywood films, the foreign contingent ruled the box office until the early 2000s, but in 2005 it fell under 50% Since then, the presence of foreign films in Japan has got progressively smaller.
“The younger generations make up a high percentage of filmgoers,” Yamanaka says, “and they increasingly prefer Japanese films – especially titles derived or inspired by manga, anime and TV dramas Recently, they’ve even found subtitled films hard to watch, so most Hollywood titles are now shown in two versions, one with subtitles, the other dubbed in Japanese “When I started, the market was dominated by Western films, and it was easier to import Eu-
ropean titles In recent years, though, it’s become a little bit of a struggle, but I’m not giving up. After all, these are the films that I, as a cinema lover, want to see ”
Speaking of film programming, one thing that distinguishes Cetera International from other companies is a relatively stronger presence of comedy titles “Not just any not any old kind,” Yamanaka points out, “but thought-provoking stories with a message that tackle social issues. Again, these are the sims I’m attracted to I believe in them, and I want people to know about them Comedy is a rather overlooked genre, and it’s quite hard to get right. One reason foreign comedies are underrepresented in Japan could be that humour is easily lost in translation, but really good stories have the power to transcend cultural borders, and I must say that many of the titles I have distributed have been hits, which proves there is a market for such works in Japan.”
This year ’ s coronavirus pandemic has highlighted the fate of mini theatres However, independent distributors are facing the same problems “Every distributor has a symbiotic relationship with cinema theatres,” Yamanaka says. “You could say we ’ re two hearts beating as one: we share the same goal and cannot exist without each other. Each mini theatre has its own philosophy
and curatorial approach; each one caters to a different audience, and when I’m placing a new title, I always ask myself in which cinema it has more chances of succeeding Then, once I reach an agreement, we work together on how to advertise the film, from choosing the Japanese title to better ways of spreading the word about it Our survival depends on its success ” Following the example of the ‘Save the Cinema’ and ‘Mini Theatre Aid’ campaigns, 13 distributors got together and launched their own ‘Help! The Film Distributor Project’ “We reached the conclusion that if people couldn’t go to the cinema, we had to bring films into their homes,” Yamanaka says “The good thing about being a distributor is that the films whose rights we own are our assets, and films never age. Some people may have missed them when they were first shown in cinemas or they may want to watch them a second time So we ’ ve come up with on-demand film packages that everybody can enjoy online. It’s similar to Netflix and Amazon Prime, but it gives viewers a chance to directly support the distributors during a particularly difficult time for the whole industry. Cetera International, for example, offers a package of 21 titles, old and new, which you can watch as many times as you want over three months for just 2,500 yen [this offer is only available in Japan – Zoom Japan].”
In the meantime, Yamanaka is already getting ready for some big celebrations “Gerard Philipe was born in 1922, and, of course, I want to do something for his 100th anniversary I wonder if my company will last for 100 years (laughs) ” J
Though it is not easy to distribute comedies, Yamanaka Yoko’s company has succeeded as Loose Cannons and Serial Bad Weddings testify
BEPPU Still with a full set of teeth at 70
The Bluebird is the city’s last remaining cinema. Despite numerous problems, its manager is not giving up.
The city of Beppu, in northeastern Kyushu, is famous around Japan for its fiery-hot onsen (hot springs) However, in the last few years a small unassuming cinema has become a new kind of tourist attraction
The Bluebird is one of those places that cinema fans want to visit at least once in their life First opened in 1949, it is a relic of a very different age when cinemas were family-run businesses, not impersonal branches of big corporate companies Even today, after 70 years, the Bluebird looks as though time has stood still and the golden age of cinema in the 1950s is still alive and well.
Although the Bluebird has a limited seating capacity, it has a unique atmosphere lacking in modern cinemas, starting with its flaming red seats and a long red sofa in the front row. Its lobby is a hodgepodge of posters, pictures and objects from years gone by, and the ticket counter is still manned by its owner and manager, 89year-old Okamura Teru. Born only seven years after Beppu City was founded, Okamura has worked at the Bluebird since the cinema was first opened by her father Bensuke “At the time, I was finishing high school and the cinema was called the Bluebird Theatre,” Okamura says “I remember the first film he screened was Disney’s Snow White I joined my father as soon as I graduated.”
In the early days, the cinema was housed on the ground floor Then, in 1970, following two renovations, Teru’s husband took over from her father and the cinema was moved to the second floor But just ten months later, tragedy struck when he suddenly died of heart failure, leaving Teru alone in charge of the cinema. However the young widow did not give up and, with the help of several people, she has managed to keep it going to this day
“My husband was always full of ideas,” Okamura says. “He used to invite famous actors such as Watari Tetsuya and Yamamoto Yoko, and even screened the first spaghetti westerns featuring Clint Eastwood. In the 1960s, the Bluebird specialized in films by production company Nikkatsu, and we had people like Hamada Mitsuo and Asaoka Ruriko as guests But then Nikkatsu
TO GET THERE
LE BLUEBIRD is situated 100m from the East Exit at Beppu station. 1-2-12 Kitahama, Beppu, 874-0920
started to produce so-called Roman Porno films, so we started focusing on work produced by Shochiku Over the last 70 years I have seen so many great films, but my all-time favourites are Singing in the Rain, Doctor Zhivago and Fukasaku Kinji’s Fall Guy ” Speaking of Shochiku and its shomingeki (stories focusing on the everyday lives of ordinary people), Okamura is particularly fond of the time Beppu became a shooting location for Hana mo arashi mo Torajiro (1982) (Tora-san, the Expert), the 30th instalment of the popular, long-running Otoko ha tsurai yo series “Tora-san was very popular, of course, but the chance to see our city on the big screen attracted even more people, and the Bluebird was packed,” Okamura says. “When the film’s run was about to end, I heard that both director Yamada Yoji and principal actor Atsumi Kiyoshi were staying in Beppu, so I asked Beppu’s mayor Wakiya Nagayoshi to help me bring Atsumi on stage to greet our audience Maybe the fact that the cinema manager was a woman (a very unusual thing, especially in those days) may have piqued Yamada’s interest, but eventually Atsumi agreed to pay us a visit, a n d w h e n W a k i y a , w h o r e s e m b l e d A t s u m i , joined him on stage, they pretended they were brothers ” In the end, this episode helped Wakiya get reelected, and Okamura was able to sell 1,000 tickets to the city hall staff
The Bluebird’s retro atmosphere is what attracts many fans from all over the country Among them is director Sakamoto Junji who went so far as to shoot a scene of his 2000 film Face
inside the cinema “In preparation for the shoot, I cleaned up the lobby and projection room, ” Okamura says, “but when the crew arrived, Sakamoto had a strange expression on his face. He finally said, I chose this place because it’s old and has a special atmosphere, but now it looks different In the end, he asked his art director to make it look rough and dirty again!” Nowadays, the old-time feel is still there, but the old projector has gone “Now everything is digital,” Okamura says. “DCP (Digital Cinema Package) is replacing film, and Hollywood and big companies such as Toho only produce films that can be played with DCP Because our projection room is so small, it's difficult to use a DCP machine, so we screen Blu-ray versions. But at our film festival we use a projector, and I still love that particular texture ”
A film festival? Yes indeed, since 2017, Okamura and her colleagues have been using crowdfunding to finance the Beppu Bluebird Film Festival, a three-day event during which they show about 30-40 films including shorts. Last year, for instance, director Shiraishi Kazuya and actor Abe Sadao were on stage to present their work Until she was 80 years old, Okamura did everything herself, but then age slowed her down and her daughter Miki joined her at the cinema Now aged 89, Okamura has been lucky to find a few people who are passionate about cinema and eager to help her manage the theatre. One of them is Morita Maho, a Tokyo-based film writer “A few years ago I visited Beppu on a solo trip and stopped by the Bluebird,” Morita
This mini theatre attracts many who feel nostalgic about the golden age of cinema
says “I immediately fell in love with the place, and after learning about Teru's life as a single mother, I decided to do whatever I could to keep the cinema going The time during the Showa era, when the Bluebird was full every day, may be gone forever, but I would like to recreate at least some of that lively atmosphere “I heard from Teru-san that cinemas in the 1950s and ‘60s had a very different feel At that time, for example, everyone would laugh, eat and drink whatever they liked during the screening Some people even brought their own lunch into the Bluebird We still sell crisps in our shop. At first, I was a little worried about the sound of people eating crisps during a film, but then I thought, why not! The sound of rice crackers being eaten during a love scene is something to be experienced. Then, when the film is over, local grannies and high school girls gather around Teru-san in the lobby to talk about the film I think this sense of community is the Bluebird’s real appeal.”
Nostalgia, however, is not the only secret behind this cinema’s charm Once every two weeks, for instance, the staff change all five films being screened. Morita currently divides her time between Tokyo and Beppu and helps Okamura and her daughter choose new films and organize events
The COVID-19 pandemic forced Bluebird to close in April and May, but though Okamura’s young team was worried about the the cinema’s future, the owner cheered them up “After all, I’ve been through a war, ” she says. “This is nothing in comparison Financially, it’s been hard, but we usually don’t have a lot of customers in any case On the other hand, keeping the cinema open during the state of emergency would have been hard because maintenance costs such as electricity bills quickly add up ” After resuming business, the staff has been careful to keep it safe by ventilating the cinema and disinfecting all seats after each film is shown “We got a lot of disinfectant from City Hall,” Morita says. “One day, one of the staff was helping with the cleaning when he felt thirsty and drank some water he found on the counter After gulping down a couple of mouthfuls he noticed a strange taste, so he checked the bottle only to find that it was disinfectant! Luckily the label on the bottle said, ‘If accidentally swallowed, it will not cause any side effects’ ” Small cinemas are a dying breed in Kyushu. That’s one of the reason Morita wants to keep it alive “Besides us, there are two wonderful cinemas in Oita Prefecture, Cinema 5 in Oita City and Cinematheque Liberte in Hita, each one with its own personality and selection of films,” she says As for Okamura, she wants to go on as long as she is able “During the heyday
of cinema, there were about 30 cinemas in Beppu, but now the Bluebird is the only one left, so I can ’ t stop, ” she says. “My father wanted to show children good films to make them dream, and I want to continue his mission I don’t have much money, but I don’t have to
pay rent because I own this building, and we are careful about how we spend our money But above all, I love films, and this is the only job I can do When I’m in the cinema, I get to meet all the customers and I never feel lonely
”
At the age of 89, the Bluebird's owner is not ready to give up her cinema!
TOKYO Revolution in motion
Since its creation, UPLINK has offered audiences a new way to enjoy films.
Shibuya is famous around the world for its street fashion and vibrant youth culture.
But you should not forget cinema: as every Japanese film buff will tell you, Shibuya is ‘mini theatre central’ Urban redevelopment has drastically changed the district in the last ten years, and two or three historical cinemas have closed down Yet, if you walk the 1 5 km separating Theatre Image Forum and the Oku-Shibuya neighbourhood, you can still find seven or eight mini theatres This may well be the most densely packed art-house cinema area in the world
It’s in Oku-Shibuya that we find one of the country ’ s most dynamic centres of indie culture: UPLINK Founded by Asai Takashi in 1987, it started out as a film distribution company before opening its first cinema in 1999, even embarking on production projects (in 2016, UPLINK became an investor in Endless Poetry, Chilean director Alejandro Jodorowsky’s surreal fantasy) In 2018, it teamed with department store group PARCO to open a multiplex in Tokyo’s western suburb of Kichijoji, and this June they added a third cinema in Kyoto Zoom talked about UPLINK’s past and present with Ishii Masayuki, the company ’ s film curator and programme director “I played baseball for many years, like film director Richard Linklater,” Ishii says. “I was lucky enough to go to the National High School Tournament finals at Koshien Stadium and continued to play through college and in my company ’ s team. But I got tired of that kind of life, so I left and spent one year in England There I discovered the Institute of Contemporary Arts and dreamed of working in a similar environment that mixed film, music and art. UPLINK gave me this opportunity.” Indeed, while UPLINK has become synonymous with films, it has its roots in avant-garde theatre Asai used to work in Terayama Shuji’s independent troupe, Tenjo Sajiki, as a stage director. When Terayama died in 1983 and the company broke up, Asai created his own troupe, the short-
TO GET THERE
UPLINK SHIBUYA 1F-2F Totsune Building, 37-18 Udagawacho, Shibuya, Tokyo, 150-0042
UPLINK KICHIJÔJI 1-5-1 Kichijoji Honcho Parco B2F, Musashino, Tokyo, 180-8520
ISHII Masayuki, responsible for the programming, believes cinema still offers a unique experience
lived Uplink Theatre Then, trying to find something that he could pursue individually, he started buying film rights, initially distributing the works of English director Derek Jarman “He soon discovered that surviving as a distributor was hard,” Ishii says “When you think about the bottom line, the cinemas get half of the earnings and the sales agent gets a quarter, so the distributor is only left with 25% of the money earned from a film This business model is only
feasible if you are able to release ten or twenty titles a year, which is not easy for anyone, and is even harder when you are trying to place less popular art-house films In fact, the first ten years or so were quite a struggle Eventually, Asai realized that it made more sense to open his own cinema and keep most of the money. So in 1999, he opened the first venue in Shibuya As it turned out, the timing was perfect because that was the period when the world of cinema
was shifting from film to digital, which suited a small cinema like UPLINK.”
UPLINK’s first cinema is inside a nondescript multi-tenant building It’s a multipurpose space with a cafe and restaurant, a gallery, a shop, and three screens. The film side of the operation is a cozy environment with limited capacity, ranging from 40 to 58 seats It’s what Ishii likes to call a micro mini theatre
“We strive to showcase works by minorities and films that address social issues,” Ishii says “We want to show people what’s happening in Japanese society and around the world That’s our mission The main problem is finding the right balance between culture and business, art and money, because at the end of the day, if people don’t show up, we can ’ t continue our work ”
UPLINK is particularly famous for its extensive documentary lineup, a genre that according to Ishii has thrived in the last few years “Technology has made film making much easier,” he says “If you compare the way films were made even just 20 years ago, there has been a big leap forward Now you can even make a film with your smartphone This is true for every genre, but I’d say documentaries have been especially affected by technological progress When you make a drama, you need actors and a crew It quickly adds up in terms of budget and logistics But with a documentary you don’t need many of those things. As long as you have a smartphone and a good idea, you are ready to go It opens up a lot of possibilities As a distributor and mini theatre whose lineup includes a fair share of documentaries, we find this development very exciting ” The opening of UPLINK’s second cinema in Kichijoji has been a clear departure from the company ’ s past. Located on the second basement floor of the PARCO department store, it is best described as a miniature version of a multiplex: five screens with a capacity of between 29 and 98 seats, showing 20 titles a day, ranging from art-house films to old classics and even familyoriented films such as Kamen Rider
“Our aim was to revolutionize the mini-theatre concept, ” Ishii says. “We created an open environment that welcomes everybody For example, it’s common for ordinary cinemas to be structured so that only people who have a ticket can proceed beyond the reception desk. However, at UPLINK Kichijoji you ’ re free to tour the whole cinema and enjoy the atmosphere or sit on one of the many benches we provide, even if you don’t watch any films ”
Nowadays, cinema design has become pretty much standardized, particularly in the case of multiplexes. On one hand, they provide a uniformly good viewing experience On the other, they lack personality “Space design is exactly the thing on which we ’ ve been working,” Ishii
says “We want to offer an experience that transcends everyday life That’s why we pay a lot of attention to the choice of colours – different for the walls and seats in each space – and other interior details
“The people who come to Shibuya can be described as hardcore cinema fans, but in Kichijoji we have a quite different audience. In a way, we want to turn the cinema theatre into a sort of amusement park where everybody can enjoy different attractions. We create opportunities for unexpected encounters between customers and films. After all, even the people who work at UPLINK like different genres, and we want to create an inclusive environment where everyone is welcome. You can imagine a situation in which the whole family goes to the cinema then mum takes the kids to see a superhero film while dad catches an oldie by Jean-Luc Godard (laughs).”
Like other Japanese cinemas, UPLINK has been hit hard by the COVID-19 pandemic, and on July 10, at the time of this interview, things
were only slightly better “On 1 June, cinemas were allowed to resume business on condition they used only half of the available seats, ” Ishii says. “At first, the response from the audience was quite good By the end of the month we were back to 60% of last year ’ s levels However, in July the number of COVID-19 cases in Tokyo rose again (more than 100 daily) causing people to stay home There’s also a chance that the state of emergency will be declared again ” Despite the current state of things, Ishii believes that going to the cinema to watch a film has become more special than ever "When you watch a film in a cinema, you need to be seated for two hours. Some people may find this inconvenient, but for me it’s a luxury You can enjoy the powerful sound and the big screen, and most importantly you get to share this experience with lots of other people. Everyone is united in this experience; you laugh and cry together It can be very emotional This is something you can only experience in a cinema theatre ” G S
Since 1 June, cinemas must limit the number of spectators per screening
KYOTO Creating a strong bond with the pub
Demachi Masugata Shotengai is a bustling shopping street that still retains the old-fashioned atmosphere of the Showa era of the 1950a and ‘60s Located in northern Kyoto near the Kamo River Delta and several institutions of higher education such as the f a m o u s D o s h i s h a , a n d K y o t o U n i v e r s i t y , i t attracts a mixed crowd of local elderly people and students It's here, on a corner once occupied by a pharmacy, that we find Demachiza, a ‘mini theatre’ (small independent cinema), which, though relatively new to the area, has quickly become a hotbed of cultural activity From the outside, the building looks deceptively small and compact, but its multifaceted activities are spread over four floors The first floor, besides being the entrance lobby where you can buy tickets and film-related goods, is occupied by a small cafe that serves a variety of film-inspired
drinks and snacks There is also a bookstore where a wide range of titles including books selected by filmmakers and critics are sold, and where talks are organized to coincide with the publication of particular works The two screens are on the second and basement floor respectively (they seat between 40 and 50 people) while the top floor is devoted to art exhibitions and other events
Each area (cinema, book shop, cafe) is managed by someone different, and Tanaka Seiichi is in charge of film programming A graduate of Kyoto University of Foreign Studies, Tanaka was a member of the Kyoto International Student Film Festival before joining Shima Films, a local film production company that manages two more cinemas in Kyoto Prefecture “In 2013, the City of Kyoto gave us permission to operate a cinema theatre and film school in an old elementary school,” Tanaka says “Risshin Cinema became quite popular, but after about four years, the authorities decided to entrust the school’s management to a private commercial operator
that had no interest in our activities ” In normal circumstances, that would have spelled the end of the project, but in its few years of existence the Risshin Cinema had gained a loyal following among film buffs, so a decision was taken to move the operation to a different location Demachiza was opened in July 2017 Though the shopping street that Tanaka and his collaborators chose was close to several universities, it lacked both a cinema and a bookstore. “We thought this area offered a good opportunity to create a sort of wide-ranging cultural centre, which besides showing films and selling books could organize events, exhibitions and lectures,” Tanaka says “At the same time, we wanted to create a space that would serve the whole community, including casual passersby and shoppers who might just browse through the books or stop for a bite to eat As a matter of fact, some people come here without knowing what they want to watch They ask us what the next show is and then decide. Basically, going to the cinema is a bit like that ”
The gamble to open Damachiza in a district where there was no cinemas has paid off.
Situated in a traditional shopping street, Damachiza has managed to attract customers thanks to its varied programme and various additional activities
licTanaka and his collaborators launched a crowdfunding project to help cover the relocation costs Though they had established a target of 3 million yen, eventually they were able to raise nearly 9 5 million yen, more than three times the amount of money they had originally hoped for “Apart from the money itself, we were happily surprised by how many people responded to our appeal and showed their support by sending both money and words of encouragement, ” Tanaka says “That kind of reaction confirmed that what we were doing was right, and there were many people out there who thought they needed a place like Demachiza. That was actually one of the reasons we resorted to crowdfunding: for us, Demachiza is not meant to be just a cinema Ideally, we want it to be an open space where people feel free to come and go and spend as much time as they like In that respect, crowdfunding is a way to make people feel directly involved in a particular project ” There’s no doubt that Demachiza has its own very particular atmosphere: both unlike a cinema, yet with more to offer “In the current climate, to focus solely on films has become a risky proposition,” Tanaka says. “Small art venues are caught between multiplexes and online streaming (Netflix, Hulu, etc ) and are constantly losing patrons We are definitely not like a multiplex We can ’ t compete with bigger places in terms of screen size and seat comfort, so we have to offer a different experience In practical terms, here you’ll find films to watch, but also all kinds of books. Many films in Japan are based on manga and literary works, so there’s already a strong relationship between cinema and books In mainstream cinemas, it’s all about luring big crowds with lots of loud publicity. Our approach, however, is more subtle Here we offer people several choices, and then it’s up to them to choose according to their interests and tastes. It’s all about giving them alternatives to explore ”
As far as films go, Demachiza does not have any specific philosophy. “I happen to be the one who's in charge of programming,” Tanaka says, “but I try not to let my personal tastes get in the way I always try to put myself in the audience’s shoes and decide how much they are going to like a particular film. The same attitude informs all our activities, not only the cinema We don’t want to impose our particular idea of cinema or culture on our patrons. It’s up to them to fulfil their own wants and desires, and enjoy what they can find here ”
For Tanaka, cinema is an important link with our past and present, which can sometimes even point a way into the future “Films are mirrors that reflect the present world, the way we feel and live out our days,” he says “We see the
world and share its suffering, sorrow, anger and joy. Thanks to cinema, we feed our imagination and get ideas and inspiration to live better lives.” Tanaka is determined to create a diverse community of people who will enjoy coming to Demachiza as a place they can drop by at any time and always encounter new ideas “I mentioned earlier what independent mini theatres can or cannot do particularly in comparison to multiplexes. One thing we can and must do is make our patrons feel that they are not just clients or consumers They can have an active role in what we do, for example by either telling
us what films they want to see or giving us feedback and comments. ‘Participation’ is the keyword here. This is something only a small operation like a mini theatre can achieve In the end, the purpose of Demachiza is to be a special place where new things and opportunities are continually appearing ”
TO GET THERE
DEMACHI-ZA 133 Miyoshichô, Kamigyô-ku, Kyôto, 602-0823 Five minutes from Demachiyanagi station.
J. D.
For TANAKA Seiichi, it is not a question of imposing his own choices, but giving patrons options
IDEAS So as not to run out of breath
In order to avoid a cultural catastrophe, many professionals have rallied round and launched various initiatives.
The COVID-19 pandemic has hit the film industry particularly hard as the government urged people to stay away from enclosed and crowded places with close-contact settings According to data gathered by film journalist Otaka Hiroo, the box-office revenue in Japan in the January-April period saw a 53% drop compared to last year, and things got even worse in May due to the complete shut-down of cinema theatres. From production to distribution, the whole industry has come to a stop In order to rescue independent cinemas and the mini theatres in particular, a large group of film professionals launched a number of initiatives including the Save the Cinema campaign Zoom talked about this with Iwasaki Yuko of the Japan Community Cinema Center (JCCC)
W h a t i s t h e J a p a n C o m m u n i t y C i n e m a Center (JCCC) ?
IWaSaKI Yuko : “Community cinema” is a term that refers to art-houses (or mini theatres, as they are called in Japan due to their small size), film clubs and other such public venues outside the mainstream circuit of the big corporate multiplexes Our activity as a loose network dates back to 1996, but the Centre itself was officially opened in 2009 Every September, about 300 people gather at our general meeting to discuss common issues and share ideas. A few years ago we even invited Claude-Eric Poiroux, Europa Cinemas’ programme director to talk about the financial support system in the EU. Among other things, we collaborate with the Institute Français, and we also have a not-for-profit distribution system through which we lend our film collection to cinemas and festivals. For example, we have helped organize retrospectives of directors such as Frederick Wiseman and Manoel De Oliveira
Tell me about the Save the Cinema campaign.
I. Y. : When people stopped going to the cinema to avoid being infected, the JCCC approached several politicians and appealed to the Agency for Cultural Affairs, and asked them to support independent cinema and art-houses in particular as many of them were in danger of closing for good When director Suwa Nobuhiro heard about our initiative, he spread the word among the film community and beyond That’s how the campaign took off
Save the Cinema is not the only campaign underway, is it?
I Y : As more and more people joined our campaign, some of them came up with similar projects to help enhance our public profile. Probably the one that has received the most publicity is the Mini-Theatre Aid, a crowdfunding initiative launched by directors Fukada Koji and Hamaguchi Ryusuke [see Zoom #???]. This greatly helped our cause as it not only gave many cinemas a small amount of much-needed financial relief, but because we were able to show the authorities that a huge number of people actually cared for independent cinema and didn’t want it to disappear
At last, the government and Prime Minister Abe himself have recognized the need to protect this important part of Japanese culture. However, we still don’t know how quickly the financial aid will be distributed and what form it will take The big difference between Japanese independent art-houses and those in Europe, and France in particular, is that our venues don’t receive any
kind of public support, be it financial or otherwise On one hand, this is obviously a bad thing On the other hand, these cinemas know from past
experience that unless they do something themselves, nobody is going to help them This awareness, I believe, is probably the reason we sprang into action so quickly as soon as things started to deteriorated
Why do you think the indie cinema circuit is worth saving?
I. Y. : Currently, every year about 1,300 films are released in Japan More than half of them are shown in art-houses but more importantly, about 500 of these films are only shown in these cinemas In other words, it's only thanks to them that a lot of smaller independent films can be seen at all A lot of directors who eventually became famous both in Japan and abroad have started as indie film makers. The Fukada and Hamaguchi, for example, have declared more than once that they owe their careers to the support they first received from art-houses. Without the indie circuit, film buffs would lose a chance of seeing a great number of interesting films Besides, it’s not just about the films Multiplexes, for example, are convenient because they show several films under one roof, but they all look the same. Wherever you go, they have the same lobby, the same interior, and it all feels a bit sterile However, each art-house has its own distinct feel and character, and the place itself becomes part of the cinema-going experience Especially in smaller cities around the country, they’re part of the local community This is one more reason we can ’ t afford to let these mini theatres fade away
INTERVIEW BY JEAN DEROME
IWASAKI Yuko from the Japan Community Cinema Centre is at the heart of the battle to save mini theatres
DISCOVERY In the footsteps of Nagai Kafu
Mibu atsushi’s extensive knowledge allowed us to plunge into the world of this lover of Tokyo.
Forget Murakami Haruki and other contemporary enfants prodiges. When the Japanese talk about Tokyo and books, one name is mentioned before any other: Nagai Kafu Last year it was the 140th anniversary of his birth and the 60th of his death, but ZOOM preferred to wait until now, the annus terribilis of coronavirus and the troubled Tokyo Olympic Games, to celebrate the life and work of an author who is still relatively, and undeservedly, little known in the West, but who in his own country is considered literary royalty
Most of Kafu’s work is intimately related to Tokyo, the city where he was born in 1879 and spent most of his life, so much so that at times the metropolis itself seems to be the real protagonist of his novels and short stories Often mixing autobiographical elements with a strong nostalgia for the culture, social mores and styles of the 19th century, Kafu returned again and again to the demimonde of geishas and the sex trade that he had eagerly immersed himself in since his teenage years One such example is A Strange Tale from East of the River, a short novel that he originally self-published in April 1937 before it was serialized, first in the Asashi newspaper and then published by Iwanami Shoten later that year
In order to understand better the author’s love affair with Tokyo, I meet one of Japan’s major experts in all things Kafu, Mibu Atsushi, a writer, editor and self-styled “time traveller” We arrange to meet in Higashi-Mukojima, the place where the main action in A Strange Tale takes place. Both the station (first opened in 1902) and the surrounding district used to be called Tamanoi, but in 1988, Tobu Railway decided to change it to Higashi-Mukojima. “Actually, the locals wanted to keep the old name, and at first protested vehemently against the change,” Mibu says, “but eventually they met with Tobu representatives, and the railway company was able to convince them over some food and booze (laughs) It couldn’t have been much of a protest ”
Leaving the station, we head north following in the writer’s footsteps “Kafu was famous for approaching his storytelling like an explorer/cartographer,” Mibu says “He often took pictures, drew sketches and even maps of the locations he chose for his stories According to Kafu’s diary –later published as Danchotei Nichijo – he first visited Tamanoi in March 1936, his main goal
being the local red-light district On 22 April, he wrote the essay ‘Terajima Diary’, which details some of his discoveries and notes on the area On 7 September, he recorded the first meeting with a woman who is said to be the inspiration for the novel’s female character, Oyuki. It took him only one month to write the novel, from 20 September to 25 October ”
The first intersection we reach is Taisho-dori (Taisho Street) that was originally built around 1913 “This is the direction from which Kafu arrived in 1936 when he first visited the district and wrote the essay ‘Terajima Diary’,” Mibu points out. “Both Kafu and Ooe, the novel’s protagonist, come from Asakusa by bus ” When it comes to Japanese cities, 80 years are like 80 centuries, which means that nothing
“An invitation to plunge into a journey through time” MIBU Atushi knows how to attract readers wanting to now more about NAGAI Kafu
remains of Kafu’s Tokyo Nowadays, one is lucky to still find any buildings from the 1950s and ‘60s. “The interesting thing about Tokyo,” Mibu says, “is that old buildings may give way to new ones, altering the whole atmosphere, but the street plan never changes For example, if you compare this area ’ s current map with one from the 1930s, when A Strange Tale was written, or even before the 1923 Great Tokyo Earthquake, the streets are just the same ” To prove his point, Mibu shows me a photo that Kafu took back in 1936 during one of his explorations In fact, even utility poles are exactly in the same spot Featured in the same picture are the long-gone Mukojima
Theatre and a Tobu train coming in from the left – at the time the Isesaki Line was still running at street level “Kafu waited a long time to get a nice photo of the train,” Mibu says, “but when it finally appeared, a group of people on bicycles stopped in front of the level crossing, ruining the image Apparently, this upset him a lot ”
On the right side of the railway, Taisho-dori becomes Tamanoi Iroha-dori We now enter the novel’s main location. “For some reason, the area to the left of Iroha-dori miraculously survived the 1945 air raids,” Mibu says, “while the one of the right was completely destroyed In other words, Iroha-dori acted as a sort of firebreak, preventing the whole district from burning down After the war, many of the businesses that used to be located on the right side moved to the left ” However, A Strange Tale was written before the war, so we enter the thick cluster of two-story houses on the right side of the street It’s here that the old akasen (red-light district) was located “However, in the Meiji and Taisho periods (18681912) people didn’t use that term, ” Mibu says “Instead, brothels were called meishaya because they were thinly disguised as shops selling alcohol The Tamanoi brothels were originally located in Asakusa, but they all moved east of the Sumida River between 1918 and 1923, the year of the Great Kanto Earthquake ”
We soon find ourselves in a maze of narrow alleys, which in Kafu’s time twisted their way along a presumably smelly ditch Nowadays, the water flows underground, but Mibu can still point out the exact spot where Oyuki’s house stood At this point, he produces a copy of the novel out of his pocket and starts reading the passage where Oyuki leads Ooe to her home: “We turned down a winding alley, and at every turn she looked back to make sure I was still behind her Eventually, we crossed a little bridge and found ourselves in front of a strip of low buildings with signs and awnings.” The narrator is painfully aware that “ even this backwater town, was not able to escape the manic upheaval of the times,” but the house where Oyuki lives “felt, to someone like me, left behind by the times, as if we were connected by a deep, mysterious fate ” Getting out of the maze is a seemingly impossible task as each alley seems to end in a cul-de-sac, but in time we find a way out and with the help of our expert guide, we finally return to Iroha-dori Mibu shows me another photo taken by Kafu in 1936, featuring a torii, a stone pillar with the inscription Toseiji on it, and a pay phone Then he points at a spot across the street “That’s where they use to stand,” he says Kafu’s photo is quite
CULTURE
puzzling because the torii is a Shinto gate while Toseiji is a Buddhist temple. Mibu sees my confused expression and reads another excerpt from the book: “Just over the little bridge was a small intersection, where a shop selling horsemeat sat, a stone pillar indicating the entrance to a Zen temple, a torii for the Tamanoi Inari Shrine, and a pay phone ” It turns out that Toseiji and the Tamanoi Inari Shrine shared – and still share – the same location. “It’s interesting how faithfully, almost obsessively, Kafu included these real-life details in his stories,” Mibu says ” Most of them are gone, but at least one of them is still here ” I turn to my left and, lo and behold, there is still a butcher’s shop on the corner
We cross Iroha-dori Though the torii and pillar are gone, the temple/shrine can still be found at the end of the street – though nowadays it’s in the form of a grey three-storey modern building that blends perfectly into its surroundings except for a funny-looking logo like a ship’s wheel I came to Mukojima with the secret hope of finding at least a few old buildings, and, in this regard, I’m not disappointed because in the area to the left of Toseiji we soon discover several Showa-era houses – probably lucky survivors from the 1950s and ‘60s They are easy to spot not only because they obviously look very old but because in contrast to the other houses –those bland-looking prefabs that can be found everywhere around Japan – they are made of mortar and corrugated iron and have other unique features such as coloured tiles, curved surfaces, and stained-glass windows with exquisitely carved wooden decorations Mibu points out that prostitutes often used the second-floor balcony to call to prospective clients – which reminds me that the maids working at Maidreamin Café in Akihabara do just the same thing (I mean, calling the roaming otaku from a balcony)
At the end of our walk, we chat about Kafu’s relationship with Tokyo and Mukojima over a cup of tea “The district where I grew up, now called Tachibana, is located on the east side of Sumida Ward, but it’s quite similar to Mukojima/Tamanoi.” Mibu says. “Also, as a child I visited Mukojima Hyakkaen, the famous garden located less than a 10-minute walk from here I encountered Kafu much later, of course, but reading his work was like having déjà vu because in his stories and novels I found places I had already visited or seen in movies such as Where Chimneys are Seen That’s why A Strange Tale strikes such a chord with me It reminds me of my childhood and the place where I used to live and play when I was a child ”
Many literary commentators are puzzled by Kafu’s work and all too often find it hard to pinpoint his success as a writer “He certainly wasn ’ t much of a storyteller,” Mibu says “But he was particularly
good at creating – or maybe recreating – a unique atmosphere; helping us experience the sights, sounds, and smells of a long-gone Tokyo He also likes to play with readers’ expectations, making us guess who Oyuki might be and where the story is going. After all, even during his time it was well known that he often mixed fantasy and reality in his stories For one thing, Ooe is clearly Kafu himself. And many other details are taken straight from his own life.
“Kafu wrote A Strange Tale when he was 58 Walking around Tamanoi reminded him of his youth, when he was in his 20s, and Asakusa (at the time Tokyo’s main entertainment area) and the red-light district of Yoshiwara were his main playgrounds He began to explore the area east of the Sumida 13 years after the Great Kanto Earthquake had laid waste to central Tokyo. Postearthquake reconstruction had irreparably changed his beloved city, and low-key, ‘dirty’ Tamanoi probably reminded him of that lost world. That’s why he was drawn to the unfashionable area east of the river It’s a perfectly understandable attitude for it works even for me: I’m endlessly attracted to Mukojima because for me, walking these streets feels like embarking on a kind of time travel ” The concept of furusato (hometown, birthplace) plays a central role in Japanese culture and people’s
imagination Tokyo, in particular, is a city of immigrants; people who were born in other regions and usually visit their families for Obon, the summer festival of the dead, or to celebrate the New Year. Sometimes they even move back to their hometown after they retire. “But for people like Kafu and me, things are slightly different,” Mibu says “Tokyo is our birthplace, but this city changes at such a furious pace that our ‘hometown’ looks very different from even ten or twenty years ago. So if you want to find that old ‘hometown feeling’, you have to look for it somewhere else In this sense, A Strange Tale, though set in a real place, may be considered as a sort of fantasy – a dream story ”
Mibu believes that Kafu would never approve of the way Tokyo has changed in the last 50 years. “Even during his time he was less than enthusiastic about progress, ” he says “Let’s compare the way he and Natsume Soseki, another literary giant, reacted to the Eiffel Tower. In 1900, Soseki, who was studying in England, visited France and climbed the world-famous iron tower Then, in a letter to his wife he wrote at length about the futuristic lift system that had taken him to the observation deck, even forgetting to mention what he has seen from the top of the tower Seven years later, the then 28-year-old Kafu left the
MIBU Atsushi knows the novelist's work like the back of his hand
United States where he had studied for almost four years, and visited France on his way back to Japan Travelling by train from Le Havre to Paris, he saw the Eiffel Tower from a distance and wrote, ‘Under the white summer clouds, the Eiffel Tower suddenly appeared. A river peacefully flowed next to the tracks ’ That river was the Seine, and it appears over and over again in his writings However, the tower is only mentioned that one time.
“The same thing can be said about the 12-storey Ryounkaku Built in 1890 and affectionately called Asakusa Junikai, Japan’s first-ever skyscraper was extremely popular with everybody but Kafu who found technology completely charmless In fact, it’s barely mentioned in his work So I’m pretty sure that he would be appalled by the Tokyo Skytree and all the other steel and concrete monsters that have appeared in Tokyo’s cityscape “It’s not by chance that in his later years, after the war, Kafu moved to Ichikawa, in nearby Chiba Prefecture. As he wrote in his diary, he had to move farther to the east to find a semblance of his beloved Tokyo of the past, surrounded by fields and flowers Now, unfortunately, even from that distance he would see the Skytree!
“Toward the end of A Strange Tale, Ooe walks around the neighbourhood where Oyuki lives, and ruminates on his attraction for such a place:
‘I could not help the sentimental sigh that escaped me when I remembered that, once, Terajima was just rice fields, the small river filled with water grasses, small dragonflies perched delicately on their leaves.’ ‘Time travellers’ like Kafu and me roam the outskirts of Tokyo in search of that elusive feeling We derive an extraordinary pleasure whenever we find a pocket of our past in a backstreet or alley where cats slumber in the sun and people still live their life at a slower pace ”
JEAN DEROME
Even though the buildings Kafu knew have disappeared, the topography remains the same
EATING & DRINKING
ALCOHOL Gin inspires the Japanese
Like sake and whisky, the archipelago’s producers have attracted attention with their locally-inspired gin.
Artisan gins are fast becoming the new fashionable drink in Japan. It’s not only small-scale producers but major whisky c
started to distil their own brands of “Japanese gin”.
Japan was obviously not the first to adopt this worldwide fashion trend In England, with just a dozen or so producers twenty years ago, now
l e a d s t h e m a r k e t w i t h 3 0 0 g i n d i s t i
Kinobi, a gin produced in Kyoto, which made a name for itself by winning an international prize two years ago. Gin is a spirit drink of more than 40% ABV made with malt, juniper berries and added botanicals, and is often used as a base for d i f f e r e n t c o c k t a i l s I n o r d
t h e n
m
“gin” it must be predominantly flavoured with juniper berries, but that’s the only restriction The choice of grain (maize, rye, barley ) and botanicals is left to the individual producer This freedom in large part explains the success of this a l c o h o l i c d
own particular personality In Japan, many producers have created gin with a “Japanese” flavour by including macerated ingredients such as sancho, cherry blossom, cedar, ginger, yuzu, or shiso leaves Sometimes gyokuro green tea, kombu seaweed, shiitake mushroom, even dried turnip, a r e a d d e d t o e v o k e a t y p i c a l J a p a n e s e u m a m i taste
M o r e t h a n j u s t a t a s t e o f J a p a n , t h e c h o i c e o f botanicals is connected to the local terroir. For example, to the south of Kyoto in the region of Wakayama, a major producer of citrus fruit, the Kozue distillery produces gin flavoured with the
zest of mandarins and lemons, while the Sakurao distillery in Hiroshima uses locally grown juniper. There’s also freedom to choose which ingredients
n cereal grain, but in Japan, shochu producers are attempting to distil alcohol based on rice or sweet potatoes, while producers of awamori, an alcohol distilled in Okinawa, make their gin using the same long-grain rice as the traditional drink, for more flavour.
Specialist gin bars are also starting to appear In Jimbocho, Tokyo’s second-hand bookshop district, Cocktail Works has a long list of Japanese artisan gins as well as gin-based cocktails. The Tokyo Family Restaurant in Shibuya has dishes from more than thirty countries on its menu,
and offers a choice of more than 400 gins The Festival of Gin has been held in Tokyo for the past two years
Some people consider this fashion to be merely an easy option as it is relatively simple to produce your own gin infusion, while others say that the fashion was created to cope with the shortage of whisky in recent years
Whatever the marketing motives behind this trend, which, in any event, are the same for all fashionable products not just alcoholic drinks, one can also discern on the part of consumers a desire for “botanical” drinks. This fashion seems to be in tune with the spirit of the time and the aspiration for a closer connection to nature SEKIGUCHI RYOKO
The fashion for gin helps people forget about the dwindling stocks of whisky over the past few years.
EATING & DRINKING
H
ARUYO’S RECIPE
BUTAKOMA NO KARAAGE (Pork and tofu fritters)
METHOD
1 - Drain the tofu by wrapping it in kitchen paper
Allow to drain for about 30 minutes or heat for 2 minute in a microwave (600w) and set aside to cool
2 - Separate the minced pork into small pieces
Place in a bowl
3 - Stir in the crumbled tofu
4 - Add the remaining ingredients
5 - Heat the oil to 160°C then carefully add the mixture formed into small balls
6 - Fry for 5-6 minutes then drain well.
7 - Serve hot
Tips: As a rule, karaage is made from seasoned and fried meat The tofu makes it go further Add more flour if the mixture is too runny
INGREDIENTS (for 4-5 people)
300g minced pork
300g firm tofu (momen tofu)
1 teaspoon grated ginger
½ teaspoon grated garlic
3 tablespoons soy sauce
2 tablespoons sake
1 tablespoon sesame oil
5 tablespoons cornflour
7 tablespoons plain flour
Oil for frying
Tono, heart of folk legends (2)
Though this small city in Iwate Prefecture dreams of becoming famous for its beer, it is best known for its kappa
Once you have tasted the local food and beer and your belly is full, it’s time to do some exercise and explore the area Tono, after all, is not only Japan’s main hop producing centre, but has a rich history and culture 80% of Iwate is made up of mountains, which have for centuries isolated its people from the rest of Japan. This inaccessibility prevented any significant contacts with the Yamato kingdom in the south, and allowed local religion and peculiar customs to flourish undisturbed. Japan’s far north remained a mystery until, at the beginning of the twentieth century, scholar Yanagita Kunio travelled to Iwate and collected the region’s legends and folk stories. The book that resulted from his field studies, Tono monogatari (The Legends of Tono, 1910), is a foundational work about the Japanese oral folk tradition, and is considered as the starting point of the modern discipline of Japanese cultural and folklore studies The early twentieth century was a period in which the political and economic elite was modernizing every aspect of Japan’s society, and Yanagita was among the few who looked back instead and decided that someone needed to preserve the country ’ s vanishing lifestyle and culture, at least on
around Tono’s countryside, Yanagita found traces of the primitive Japan that existed before Buddhism was imported from China in the sixth century
What Yanagita discovered was a dark world full of supernatural experiences These are the places
Yanagita’s book, for instance, we learn that the area ’ s three principal mountains, Mt. Hayachine, Mt. Rokkoushi and Mt. Ishigami, are where three female kami (deities) reside Even today, women in Tono are told not to climb these mountains lest they arouse their jealousy. It’s undoubtedly hard being a woman (or a child), at least according to these folk tales Women and children playing outside at dusk often disappear in mysterious ways. This phenomenon is known throughout Japan as kamikakushi (hidden by a kami) and is said to be done by tengu (long-nosed goblins), foxes and demons Tono monogatari is full of stories about hunters and other local men wandering up the mountains surrounding the T o n o b a s i n a n d d i s c o v e r i n g l o n g - l o s t w o m e n held captive by tall, wild-eyed men who eat their children.
T h e s e a r e s t o r i e s t h a t p e o p l e t o l d a r o u n d t h e hearth during Iwate’s long, dark, harsh winters As in other cultures, even outside Japan, nature ’ s
dangers are anthropomorphized and turned into mysterious and scary entities to remind people that life is hard and they ignore its perils at their own risk.
One of the most moving tales in the book is about a f a r m e r ’ s b
a u g h
w h o h a s a d e e p (some may say creepy) relationship with their horse. When the girl marries the horse, her enraged and perhaps jealous father hangs the horse from a mulberry tree As the heartbroken daughter clings to the dead horse, her father chops its head off with an axe. At this point, the girl and the horse’s head fly off together to heaven, and she turns into the agricultural deity Oshira-sama O s h
o l k beliefs; you will find the deity all over the ‘back c
Images of Oshira-sama are made out of 30-centimetre-long sticks from mulberry branches or bamboo They are dressed in brightly coloured or brocaded cloth, which is changed every year, and their heads are either carved like a horse’s or a human’s head or left uncarved. Some experts think the ancient deity is the origin of Tohoku’s kokeshi dolls They are sometimes kept on a Buddhist altar as people in Tohoku have never had problems blending old and new customs with religious beliefs
However, kappa (water imps) are by far Tono’s most famous yokai (monsters and spirits) Kappa
Le kappa est le personnage le plus célèbre de la petite cité d’Iwate Il fait partie du folklore local et est désormais connu dans le pays tout entier
images can be found everywhere around the city, but the real kappa of folk tales is not as cute or friendly as modern illustrations tend to portray it A kappa can be best described as a child-sized amphibious creature with a slippery skin, a sharp b e a k , h u m a n - l i k e a r m s a n d l e g s , a n d w e b b e d hands and feet Its most noteworthy feature is a unique dish-shaped concavity at the top of its head Although it can breathe on land, water is its natural habitat and the source of its strength. The dish on top of its head must be kept filled with water or the kappa will lose its power and may even die So if you happen to cross a threatening kappa’s path, you only need to bow. When the kappa bows in return (he is Japanese, after all) he will spill the water and will have to beat a retreat
Tono monogatari contains several kappa-related stories According to legend number 59, for instance, most kappa have a green face but the ones in Tono are red One day, a little girl was playing in a garden with her friends when she saw a child with a bright red face who was hiding behind a walnut tree She later realized that it was a kappa A good place near Tono where you can go kappa hunting is Kappabuchi (kappa pool). Near this lovely quiet stream you will find a few cucumbers and primitive fishing rods Kappa love cucumbers, so you can use them as bait to catch one. But be careful, because they are extremely strong, especially when they are in or near water, and are excellent sumo wrestlers Kappa have been also known to pull children and horses into the water. Legend number 58 is about a child who takes his horse to the Obako pool to d r i n k W h i l e h e i s p l a y i n g , a k a p p a s u d d e n l y appears and tries to pull his horse into the deep water. However, the horse proves too strong and e n d s u p d r a g g i n g t h e k a p p a i n s i d e i t s s t a b l e
When the villagers find it hiding under the straw, they decide to let it go providing it stops playing such tricks. Eventually, the kappa leaves the area and moves to a different pool
To be fair, the kappa are not always mischievous For example, they are said to protect temples and other places from fire. Also, next to the stream in Kappabuchi there is a small temple where preg n a n t w o m e n p r a y t o b r e a s t f e e d s u c c e s s f u l l y However, the kappa’s relationship with human f e m a l e s i s n o t a l w a y s s o i n n o c e n t a s t h e y a r e known for impregnating women (legends 55 to 59) who later bear grotesquely deformed demikappa. These children are said to be crushed to death with a mortar and pestle at birth
Whether people believed in the legends featured in Tono monogatari or not, it is interesting to note how these folk tales were used to control people’s behaviour and put a mythological gloss on certain unpleasant facts of life For example, Japanese mothers used the kappa stories to scare
La région a longtemps été isolée, favorisant le développement de coutumes particulières.
kids away from dangerous stretches of water Even today, public authorities all over Japan put colourful signs near rivers depicting a kappa pulling a child into the water Then there was infanticide – a pretty common practice in Japan’s poorest rural areas To admit killing a newborn has never been easy, and putting the blame on a kappa was a convenient way to justify the death of a misshapen baby or one born out of wedlock
These gruesome tales notwithstanding, the kappa i s a r g u a b l y J a p a n ’ s m
loved yokai and appears in many works of art, literature and popular culture Even author Akutagawa Ryunosuke of Rashomon fame wrote a modern allegory of an underground kappa society i
Ninja Turtles have been mistaken for kappa (probably because they both have a shell on their back) even though they actually have no connection to them
I
Tono, but you don’t have a chance to travel to J
anime feature movie directed by Hara Keiichi from two novels by Kogure Masao. This is the story of an elementary school boy who lives in the Tokyo suburb and one day discovers a baby kappa called Coo in the river near his house The two become friends, and when the boy realizes that the kappa cannot adjust to the lifestyle in
T
ancestral land
Le Kappabuchi, lieu préféré des kappa à Tôno
Images and statues of kappa can be found everywhere both in Tono and in its surroundings. One such spot is Fukusenji, a beautiful temple belonging to the Buddhist Shingon sect whose widespread complex sits on a hill and protects the city from the evil spirits that, according to tradition, descend from the north A number of buildings – including a five-storey pagoda and a shrine devoted to Bishamon (one of the Seven
TRAVEL
Gods of Luck) – line the winding paths that lead to the temple’s Main Hall on top of the hill. This hall houses Japan’s largest wooden image of Kannon, the Goddess of Mercy – a 17-metre-tall statue made from a single 1,200-year-old tree, which took 12 years to complete
Tono seems an apt place to have such a majestic statue of Kannon, a goddess that grants salvation
to the suffering and the afflicted, and dispels the e
Tono’s history, like the rest of the prefecture, is filled with tragic famines, the worst of which came in 1754 when one-fourth of the basin starved to death during two consecutive years of poor harvests 30 years later, a Buddhist priest spent his days in a quiet forest near Atago Shrine reading
sutras to comfort the spirits of the victims while carving images of 500 rakan (disciples of the Buddha) on scattered boulders Today you can still see hundreds of these sculptures, though most are now covered in moss
D
developed a silk industry that was destroyed by
reduced to eating roots of wild plants, and many died or moved away
Another spot worth visiting is just ten minutes walk from Kappabuchi Denshoen is an open-air folk museum where one can learn about Tono’s history, how its people have coexisted with the region’s harsh climate and living conditions, and the sense of intimacy and awe that Japanese feel toward their deities.
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houses including a beautiful example of magariya, the traditional dwelling where the region’s farmers lived with their animals. Literally meaning ‘bent house,’ the magariya was shaped like an ‘L’: the family occupied the long part of the ‘L’ and their animals the short end Horses were unable to survive the bitter Tohoku winter outside, so a space was built for them inside the family home
In the past, Tohoku’s poor and unsophisticated farmers were seen by the rest of the country as the hillbillies of Japan. Yanagita tried with his research to infuse their lives with a new sense of p r i d
Susumu, who created the definitive portrait of these people. While Yanagita (or Tsuge Yoshih
often visited Tohoku) was an outsider who observed them from a distance, Katsumata was a local boy (he was born in Miyagi Prefecture, just south of Iwate) and drew his story from the point of view of the characters themselves, showing a deep empathy and understanding.
His most accomplished collection, Red Snow, does not shy from depicting the harsh reality of life in Tohoku as his stories feature poor people whose lives are dominated by promiscuous behaviour, adultery, domestic violence, prostitution and rape However, he always maintains a sympathetic outlook, and his brand of fiction – a sort of magic realism – never fails to register the sometimes comical, sometimes dramatic coexistence between human beings and the supernatural creat u r e s t h a t i n h a b i t t h e i r w o r l d – i n c l u d i n g , o f course, plenty of mischievous kappa.
JEAN DEROME
PRACTICAL INFORMATION
FROM TOKYO, the easiest way is to take the Tohoku Shinkansen to Shin-Hanamaki (about 3 hours). Then change to the Kamaishi Line to Tono (about 55 minutes)
Le meilleur moyen d’attirer un kappa est de servir de concombres comme appât
