Hanami Hitch

It's now been over three weeks since the now so-called Tōhoku earthquake and tsunami. That's what it's called on Wikipedia, and it's funny how they create media-friendly monikers for these things.

It's like the ironically named Great Kantō earthquake that hit Tokyo in 1923. It was only great in terms of the number of people it killed (over 100,000).

It's now spring in this city, and the cherry blossoms are beginning to unfurl. Usually at this time of year millions of people would start to unravel their mats in crammed public spaces for the hanami – literally “flower viewing”.

Japan's famous for it.

There’s an ethereal quality to the canopy of subtle pink plumage that surrounds you in leafy places in most parts of the country, and the petals drifting on the breeze is like something spun from the reel of a classic Japanese movie... which is, well, just what you’ve probably seen, in anything from the whimsical musical romp of Seijun Suzuki’s Princess Raccoon (2005) to the dramatic demise of Ken Watanabe’s character in The Last Samurai (2003). They're also stunningly used in Makoto Shinkai's anime 5 Centimetres Per Second (2007).

It’s a remarkable sight quite unlike anything you will have encountered anywhere else in the world. While there may be the odd cherry tree that sticks out like a sore thumb in front yards from Washington D.C. to Melbourne, here in Japan these woody perennials are cultivated, pruned and spaced to perfection.


What makes the seasonal phenomenon even more special is the fleeting nature of the blossoms themselves, prompting the Japanese to use them as a metaphor for life and its brevity.

Which brings us back full circle to the Tōhoku earthquake on March 11, and the continuing woes at the Fukushima nuclear reactors.

Around 25,000 people are assumed to have been killed across 18 prefectures to the north and north-east of Tokyo, while hundreds of thousands are homeless, without basic essentials like water and electricity.

TEPCO, the people who run the nuclear power plants, have put on a carefully orchestrated stage show of ineptitude, and according to some reports may be endangering the lives of their rank-and-file staff by sending them into the reactors to fix the job that management stuffed up in the first place.

Crocodile tears from TEPCO spokesman and head honchos on the TV just don't cut it. I think the entire board of directors should be rounded up and sent in to Fukushima to replace the workers, and try to fix the plants themselves.

Meanwhile we're collectively treading water, waiting to see what happens.

Of course we hope for the best, and in my case I occasionally pray to an empty mead hall of Norse gods that the nuclear crisis will soon be a thing of the past. But no one seems quite sure what will transpire.

Most people here are dealing with it regardless, and going on with their lives in the best way possible.

There have been exceptions - like one of the talented artists on my old record label, who seems to have embarked upon a sad descent into a petty, self-centred, money-grabbing kind of madness since the crisis began, and I've lost a mate as a result - but I guess people deal with the subliminal stress in different ways.


Me? I really miss my two girls, who have been down with the in-laws in Fukuoka for two-and-a-half weeks now, until this thing blows over (er... poor choice of words) or is resolved, and we know more about the radiation issue in Tokyo. Having a five-year-old daughter makes things a little more complicated as my wife and I are far more worried about her future health than our own.

Every day I wake up in an empty apartment and go through the somewhat surreal notions of going through life and working like nothing's changed, yet in a subtle sense everything has. As I say - surreal.

And now it's spring, the cherry blossoms are on their way, and I think everyone's wondering the same thing: Is it appropriate to just let our hair down and celebrate, with all that's happened recently and that which continues to unfold up north?

Why am I even bothering to write about this here? Isn't it so damned trivial in the grand scheme of things?

To be honest I haven't got the faintest idea, but I find myself beginning to believe that to celebrate would be some kind of collective catharsis. Perhaps not partying quite so hard - in normal circumstances hanami banquets often stretch from daytime into the night (when the name of the jaunt is changed to yozakura, or night sakura), and lanterns dangle all about for people to continue drinking and warble prolific - but all the same sitting with friends, having a drink or two, and just plain celebrating the here and now could be a godsend.

After all life, as it turns out, can be as fleeting and transient as the cherry blossoms themselves, which often bloom and fall in the same week.

Besides, I'm going to throw in my favourite (anonymous) haiku here. When it's hanami season you need sake, and the two combined are part of what makes Japan truly special - especially at times of adversity like these (currently) are:


酒なくて
何の己が
桜かな

Without sake
what is the use of
cherry blossoms?

Gumyo-ji Temple Sakura Beer

Thanks to Yokohama's oldest surviving place of worship, Gumyo-ji Temple (みょうじ) - which was apparently built a millennium ago - comes one of those joys you stumble across anew even after almost a decade in Japan.

In this case that joy is something that combines two of my favourite interests: beer and sakura (cherry blossoms).

Sakura Beer is a specialty of Gumyo-ji, one I had no idea about until today when my student Toshie - a Yokohama native - presented me with a bottle of the stuff wrapped in Disney character face-cloths (Pluto and Donald, luckily, rather than Mickey).

According to the label, it was brewed using yeast sourced from cherry blossoms grown in the temple's own grounds, and the bottle needs to be gently rolled rather than shaken prior to opening - which I figure is the case with most beers anyway; common sense is international after all.


While this brew is the day's undoubted treasure, the temple itself is also a treat.

It was established by the Shingon sect (supposedly by a priest named Gyoki) somewhere between the 8th century and the 11th and is dedicated to the Goddess of Mercy, the Eleven-Headed Kannon... a fairly formidable 1.8-meter tall carving that also dates back to around 1,000 years.

Now for that beer.

Flower Power 花見-style!

Every spring in Japan, the hanami (花見) – literally “flower viewing” – is a cultural necessity, and it just so happens to be a (sake) barrel of fun as well for those able to get time off work and indulge in some good spirit(s).

While this year's version hasn't really been anything to write about, at least in Tokyo (the weather's been all over the place), usually in March or April - depending upon when precisely the nation’s fabulous cherry blossoms (sakura 桜) decide to unfurl - millions of people unfurl their own blankets in crammed public spaces... ostensibly there to watch the delicate, snow-like shower of flowers, but also to catch up with friends, impress the boss, drink vast quantities of sake, carouse, get drunk, sing, and be raucous in exceptionally unJapanese ways.

These parties often stretch from daytime into the night (when the name is changed to yozakura), and lanterns hung up to drink by and warble prolific.

Needless to say I love it, but regardless set out to uncover just why the custom is so darned popular in the hearts and minds of young Japanese creative types some 1,300 years after it’s said to have kick-started during the Nara Period.


NAOYOSHI SHIOTANI
(Director of Tokyo Marble Chocolate, character designer and unit director on Oblivion Island, as well as key animator on Mamoru Oshii's Sky Crawlers and an in-between animator on Hayao Miyazaki's Spirited Away):
“We Japanese enjoy the different feelings and peculiarities of each and every season.
In spring, we have fun under full-blossomed cherry trees, eating and drinking and romping around with our friends. And the sake you drink, surrounded by pink cherry petals dancing in the air, is somehow tastier than usual. In Japanese, we have even coined the word, hanamizake – which refers to the sake you sip under the cherry trees. Then, of course, you need to be careful not to quaff too much booze...”


TATSUYA OE
(Highly-regarded DJ-around-Tokyo who also makes music under aliases like Captain Funk and OE):

“I'm not specialist about hanami, but I think it’s interesting and so symbolic, and a typical way for Japanese to behave – it’s like a small initiation into Japanese society, especially for people just starting out in companies.
“There are much more important (hidden) elements than seeing (mi) the blossoms (hana) themselves.
“There are also some vital things for any hanami party organizer to consider: (a) deciding who to invite; (b) adjusting schedules of participants; (c) claiming a decent space to actually see the blossoms; (d) preparing sheets, drinks, blankets, karaoke machines, and so on – while ensuring that the boss’s favorite songs are loaded into the karaoke machine; (e) getting everyone together; (f) making sure people who drink too much don’t get into fights, go hunting, or generally kill themselves.
“After that there’s the big clean-up, an assurance to the boss that you’re one very smart and reliable person, and follow-up calls and emails (Otsukare samadesita!).
“Perhaps a good hanami organizer should become a good worker in Japanese society – though it must seem weird to people coming from overseas…
“So, needless to say, I’m not talented enough to organize hanami parties!”


KOU MATSUO
(Director of the Gonzo anime Red Garden):
“My understanding is that hanami is an event that marks a new start for everyone – a new school year, newcomers joining companies, and so on. A lot of people use hanami as a sort of bonding ceremony to welcome freshmen, by making it a big drinking party. I guess that’s because there are many people who cannot bring themselves to open up to others, unless they are spoon-fed the opportunities.
“Personally, I try to take advantage of seasonal events – not only hanami, but other annual events too – as they can provide a punctuation mark to daily life. At the same time, however, I try not to be dependent on them.
“One thing is for sure, though... there’s nothing like sipping sake under cherry blossoms, no matter how cold the weather is. Honestly!”


ASAE ONISHI
(Actress in 1 Liter of Tears, Beauty):


“Seeing the cherry blossoms, which mark the beginning of spring, makes me happy.
Sake, food, family, friends… It’s good to get to know each other through the hanami party. When I go to hanami, I feel as if... I wish I could stop time.”


HIROYUKI MORITA
(Director of the anime series Bokurano as well as the Studio Ghibli feature The Cat Returns):
“Cherry trees shed their leaves during the winter, and bloom in springtime, before early summer comes and the leaves begin to sprout anew. Trees that bloom amidst leaves aren’t that uncommon, but in the case of cherry trees, the blossoms dominate the whole leafless tree.
“The sight of a cherry tree in full bloom is such a unique spectacle, and just sitting underneath it makes you feel like you’ve wondered into some ethereal world. It makes you want to spend that special time with your loved ones. I think that the hanami season provokes that kind of sentiment in all Japanese people.”


NAOTO YAMAZAKI
(DJ/musician better known in Japan as Naotoxin):
“Hanami makes me happy, because spring is my favorite season. We get to enjoy good food and sake and, of course, watch the cherry blossoms. Then I really begin to realize that I’m glad to have been born in Japan. Hanami gives us a great chance to think about how beautiful spring is!”


FUMINORI KIZAKI
(The director of anime outings Afro Samurai and Basilisk):
The hanami season coincides with the end and beginning of the school year in Japan, meaning that it is the time of year that graduation and entrance ceremonies are held, or when many people, including new graduates, start new jobs. So, it is the season of parting with old friends, and also meeting new ones.
“Enjoying the beautiful blossoms and the shower of their petals while drinking sake is an activity that makes you realize the Japanese sense of aestheticism, but it is also a very emotional season too, and the beautiful cherry blossoms can have a therapeutic effect in those cases. But since I am not a party-goer, I personally do not enjoy rowdy hanami parties that much...
“There was a rocket-powered kamikaze aircraft, or a manned cruise missile, named ‘Ohka’ (meaning cherry blossom) that was employed by Japan during WWII, and so the ephemeral image of cherry blossoms that begin to shed their petals as soon as they come to full bloom sometimes reminds me of the young souls that died in battle.
Although I’ve never really thought of it this way, I think the cherry blossom season is a very important time of the year for the Japanese people that has been imprinted in our hearts since our childhood.”



TAKA KATO
(Animator responsible for the iconic Honeinu-kun):
“Well, I think the most important thing is not sake, nor food, and not even the cherry blossoms themselves!
“The most important thing is friends. We plan hanami parties to meet together and talk in a completely unusual situation, in the evening, outside! It’s kind of exciting.
“Oh, and the second most important thing for hanami is a coat – you know, an early April night outside can be very cold!”


TOSHIYUKI YASUDA
(Musician, DJ, Megadolly label boss, former member of Fantastic Plastic Machine - and the man behind Robo*Brazileira):
“Hanami is a good excuse to drink with new and old friends. The immediacy and intransient nature of the cherry blossoms also make people think about relationships and ourselves...
“Especially in my case, as it’s my birthday around the same time!”


MANABU ONO
(Director of the anime series Dragonaut)
“We often go for a hanami party with the members of our studio. I always hope to go for a hanami again with the staff of the shows!”

Let's hope he enjoyed this year's comparatively lackluster season - which still was fun despite the travails of global warping.

Tokyo Tower vs. Tokyo Sky Tree!

It seemed somehow fitting when, in late May 2008 at the 12th Seoul International Cartoon & Animation Festival (SICAF 2008), a charming, quirky little anime feature titled Tokyo Marble Chocolate was awarded the Grand Prize in the Feature Film Category.

After all, much of the anime’s unfolding romantic comedy and poignant philosophizing about love and life in contemporary Tokyo takes place around Tokyo Tower – an obelisk that in 2008 also celebrated its 50th anniversary.

While there are a lot of other symbols of Japan that weigh in much older and further tip the scale in the history stakes, when you're debating the preeminent visual icon in Japan's capital city, and its more famous ones, you can’t possibly ignore Tokyo Tower.

Besides, it’s impossible to miss the tower – painted, as it is, in vivid red and white and gorgeously spot lit after hours. Stature-wise, it reaches upward to a peak of 333 meters, thus edging out its earlier doppelgänger, the Eiffel Tower, by around nine to 13 meters, depending on whether or not you include their antennas in the equation.

Tokyo Tower also continues to dominate the skyline as the world's tallest self-supporting steel tower, easily seen from the Imperial Palace and Roppongi. It boasts an otaku-revered antenna that broadcasts all that vital anime we watch on TV stations here in Tokyo like NHK, TBS and Fuji TV.

The past 50 years have been quite remarkable, and monumental unto themselves in terms of the life of this tower and its impact on this city as well as Japan and the outside world.

It dominates the back-drop in the recent, nostalgic feature movies, Always: Sunset on Third Street, parts one and two, that were directed by Takashi Yamazaki (of Returner fame) and set in the late 1950s, during the tower’s construction. And our metallic altar was used as the titular name of a movie in 2005 that starred Junichi Okada, who more recently did the voice of Prince Arren in Studio Ghibli's Tales from Earthsea.

And just two years ago the movie Tokyo Tower: Mom and Me, and Sometimes Dad, starred the very cool Joe Odagiri (Shinobi).

In contrast to such dramatic attention, however, the tower has long been Godzilla’s and Mothra’s favoured plaything, and in manga has been particularly ill-treated: it was sucker-punched in Geobreeders, became the center of paranormal activities in the pages of Tokyo Babylon, and was the focus of some alcoholic excess in Wings of Wishes.

The tower also features heavily in anime.

It was shown destroyed in Cybuster, then popped up in a more romantic light – before being partially ransacked – in Sailor Moon, as well as in other anime like Card Captor Sakura, X, Magic Knight Rayearth, Angelic Layer, Someday’s Dreamers, and Burn Up Excess.

In fact if the anime outings are to be believed, the structure is actually a magnet for mayhem and a portal for inter-dimensional mysticism.


All the iconoclasm may be fictional, but the tower came a hair’s breath from destruction in September 2004, when a 747 accidentally passed within 200 meters, en route to Haneda Airport.

And yet, while the monument may have been crushed, squashed, melted down, transformed, and manhandled like a mammoth toothpick, and represent an object of some cynicism in younger Japanese’s minds, Tokyo Tower wasn’t raised for ruin alone.

Twenty-something Japanese English language school advisor, Shoko Shima, sees the tower in a more positive light. “For me, Tokyo tower is one of the symbols of Tokyo. When I see it, it makes me feel nostalgic. It’s not cute, nor interesting, but I think we need it in Tokyo as an older symbol of the city.”

And acclaimed electronic music producer, Toshiyuki Yasuda (Robo*Braziliera), says that “It is most assuredly a romantic symbol in mid-Tokyo.”

The obelisk was designed by Nikken Sekkei Ltd., and constructed in 1958 by Takenaka Corporation, Japan's oldest architecture and engineering and firm, at a cost hovering at around ¥2.8 billion.

It has an average 2.6 million visitors per annum and has been romantically illuminated at night – with 164 globes that change color according to the season – for enamoured young and old couples alike since 1989. Many of them visit the first-floor aquarium, which houses some 50,000 fish, or the wax museum on the third floor, and then the self-explanatory Trick Art Museum. The view itself is an optional extra.

On a clear day, Mt. Fuji is visible from the tower. On most days, unfortunately, it isn't.

Regardless, all this is set to end in a way when Tower Tower is superseded by its younger, more virile replacement, the Tokyo Sky Tree – currently being constructed in Sumida (see below, this week) - which aims at almost twice the size of our existing aging hero.

Turns out that Tokyo Tower just isn't tall enough in the 21st century to offer complete digital terrestrial television broadcasting coverage - but at least this may mean that Ol' Red will be left in a secure retirement from attacks by Godzilla and his kaiju cronies.

The Tokyo Sky Tree will just have to lean to deal with the abuse.