Mieko Kawakami 
Mieko Kawakami was born in Osaka. In 2018, she received the Akutagawa Prize for Breasts and Eggs (the novella version). She was awarded the Chuya Nakahara Prize for her poetry collection, Sentan de sasu wa sasareru wa sora ee wa, in 2009. In 2010, Kawakami was awarded the culture minister’s Art Encouragement Prize for New Artists and the Murasaki Shibu Prize for Heaven. She won the Takami Jun Prize for her poetry collection, Water Vessel, and the Tanizaki Prize for Dreams of Love, etc. in 2013, the Watanabe Junichiro Prize for Akogare in 2016, and the Mainichi Publishing Cultural Award for Breasts and Eggs in 2019. Her other books include Ashes of Spring. Breasts and Eggs will be published in over 40 countries, and the English version of Heaven was shortlisted for the International Booker Prize in 2022. In February 2023, All the Lovers in the Night was shortlisted for the National Book Critics Circle Awards. 
Twitter：@mieko_kawakami
https://www.mieko.jp/books

In this installment, we spoke to author Mieko Kawakami, whose latest novel, Sisters in Yellow (in Japanese), was published by Chuo Koron Shinsha in February. Her popularity abroad has skyrocketed over the past few years, exemplified by Heaven being shortlisted for the International Booker Prize and All the Lovers in the Night being shortlisted for the National Book Critics Circle Awards.  

In Sisters in Yellow, the protagonist, 15-year-old Hana Ito, meets Kimiko, a friend of her mother who works at a Japanese snack bar and starts living with her for several years until she reaches her 20s. With no place of belonging, Hana is at the mercy of money and a place to live. Her life with her pseudo-family, including two people around her age, changes shape as the novel progresses. Sisters in Yellow first made waves as a serialized story in a newspaper, and though some time has passed since its release, you can still find stacks of copies at bookstores across Japan. What did Kawakami put into the novel, which speaks to the times we live in today, and what is her role as an author?  

Find the right moment to strike and go for it

—Some time has passed since the publication of Sisters in Yellow. How has the reception been so far? 

Mieko Kawakami: I received many responses that stuck out to me, but I was happy to see that many people grew attached to the protagonist, Hana Ito, and wanted to see her through to the end.  

—I read your novel as a coming-of-age story. In hindsight, a part of me manufactured my memories to fit my adolescence into society’s romanticized idea of youth. As I read it, the shiny façade of my manufactured youth started fading away, and I realized I didn’t have to glamorize my teenagehood. It was a massive discovery for me to want to face my performative teenage self. 

Kawakami: That makes me happy. Thank you.  

—You said in a different interview that you were interested in the 90s because that was when you were in your youth.  

Kawakami: All I did was work in the 90s, so nothing extraordinary happened to me. What’s interesting is despite where I lived and the culture there, the zeitgeist of the time reached where I was. The works of Kyoko Okazaki and Kenji Ozawa would find their way to hostesses in Kitashinchi. Even if you don’t want to consume them, trends have the power to influence an entire era; it’s also violent, and no one gets to choose [what becomes trendy]. In the 90s, Aum Shinrikyo emerged, and the Great Hanshin Earthquake happened. There was also a prominent youth culture representative of young people then. It’s strange how we all have shared memories, even if we live different lives every day.  

—In Sisters in Yellow, you explore cultural phenomena associated with high school girls, like paid dating, slouch socks, Tamagotchi, and more.

Kawakami: Now that around 25 years have passed, we’re finally able to examine the essence of the cultural accumulation of that era. Rather than writing about youth with rose-tinted glasses, there’s a way to come to terms with the 90s as a means to think about the present. 

The problems of the Unification Church are being looked into again, as though it were Aum Shinrikyo’s twin. Akin to writing about the 90s and connecting that time to the present, the phenomenon of something from over two decades ago surfacing again will continue in the future. 

—This is just my opinion, but it seems like what you wrote in the book was partially based on your youth.

Kawakami: I grew up in Osaka, so the vibe was different. Many people I knew bought Christian Riese Lassen’s works (laughs). But I didn’t write the book to dissect that era or talk about societal issues. The driving force behind it was wanting to witness and document so many things about being human, like the helplessness, hardships, beauty, and energy that comes with it. 

No one can determine someone else’s happiness or unhappiness. No one should. We must urgently tackle issues like poverty and young caregivers because they’re systemic and societal. Still, I don’t think anyone has the right to judge those who live in the elusive present with desperation and choose a life of their own from the choices they were given. The world is full of people like Hana: students studying for entrance exams, people fighting hard to raise funds to start a company, and people pushing themselves too hard in any given situation. Taking the initiative is important, but that could change depending on the setting. Also, I don’t think there’s such a thing as a convenient word that can be used in every single situation. 

—There may be many people, similar to Hana, whose voices aren’t being heard.

Kawakami: I agree. The world isn’t just comprised of those who write or read. We all live differently. Keeping a healthy distance between positive, popular words and yourself is ideal. Sayings like, “You’re perfect just the way you are” and “Love yourself” might help some people, but the more earnest you are, the more you’d take these words to heart and suffer because you can’t be the way you are. You don’t have to give it your all at all times. You’ll have your “It’s crunch time” moment, so that’s when you should go for it.  

—Hana is the type of person to push through with all her might. 

Kawakami: Yeah. She feels a strong sense of responsibility and tries very hard. But Hana is young; maybe everyone’s like that when they’re young. I don’t think we should worry about that too much because we become more reasonable as we age. So, I’m happy some people read my book as a coming-of-age novel.  

Asking yourself how you want to live your life no matter how old you become 

—I was personally drawn to Kimiko. The scene that demonstrates what makes her character special is when she fills the refrigerator with food before leaving Hana. I felt her kindness in this seemingly casual scene. I heard you wrote the book without developing a plot beforehand, as though you were singing a karaoke song in whatever key you were presented with. Did you not come up with the characters’ backgrounds?  

Kawakami: Until this novel, I’d develop the characters meticulously, but I didn’t do that this time. I wouldn’t say my fingers moved on their own accord, but I only decided on the chapter titles from the first one to the 13th and felt my way through the rest. I initially thought Kimiko would conspire with Hana to do bad things, but no matter how long I waited, I couldn’t get her to speak about that.

—Did you intentionally choose to write differently than before?

Kawakami: It was an inevitable change because Sisters in Yellow was initially serialized in a newspaper. I did create a plot, to a certain extent, but it felt like I was writing about the people I met and their stories, experiences, and what they witnessed.  

—In today’s society, some people are considered disposable while others aren’t. I sometimes feel worried about how I might become useless to society once I grow older. I want to find my place of belonging and stand firm like Kimiko, as if to say, “I’m still here.”  

Kawakami: Yeah, life is full of uncertainties. It would be nice to live healthily, but that’s not something we can control. Everything, from our physical strength to intelligence, drops once we’re over the age of 40. Fundamentally, living becomes harder and harder. This is the same for everyone. Life is an uphill battle from the day we’re all born. But going through that is life itself. Those who continue to ask themselves how they want to live by facing life head-on instead of tossing it to the side are full of vitality no matter how old they become. Do you want to live a long life?  

—I’ve started being more conscious of my health, but I don’t want to live that long. It seems like it’s tough.  

Kawakami: I see. It seems like young people tend to answer that way. In many cases, when protagonists in novels get a lot of money, they use their money wisely, but Hana becomes obsessed with accumulating a lot of money. I believe it’s her way of preparing herself for unexpected situations. She has no expectations for a world without security or welfare, where you must fend for yourself. 

I spoke about how it’s important to think about how you want to live your life, but the truth is, even if you have an ideal way of living in mind, you’d struggle if you had no money. That shift you have tomorrow is more urgent than you finding your authentic self; I think it’s such a luxury to be able to love yourself for who you are.  

The role of the author 

—The English version of All the Lovers in the Night was shortlisted for the National Book Critics Circle Awards. Heaven was shortlisted for the 2022 International Booker Prize for its translation. Further, Breasts and Eggs will be translated and published in over 40 countries. As such, your work is getting critical attention from abroad too. What are your thoughts on the reactions you’ve been getting from readers in different countries? 

Kawakami: The first people who want to read translated literature are critics and book reviewers. The way I grew up was like growing up on the streets, so I feel overjoyed that my books could reach such people. As my readership increases, many young people send me videos and photos. I’m so happy because it genuinely feels like we’re now at a point where people read my books to enjoy them rather than learn about Japanese culture.  

—We’re at a point where regular people read your books out of personal interest instead of experts studying Japanese literature and culture. 

Kawakami: I felt moved when a teenager posted a selfie they took with my book. It makes you choke up when you think about how they must’ve bought your book with the limited allowance they get. It’s simple but very powerful. The first time I felt like someone had truly read my book was when I saw people reading my work with tears rolling down their cheeks.  

—You’ve previously mentioned that novels don’t fix the world, but I’m assuming you’ve had some experiences where your work affected someone. What do you think is your role as an author, and what do you want to convey?  

Kawakami: I’m sure more than half of authors and artists do what they do to feel self-fulfillment. This is especially true for my own work. Some people tell me they were saved by reading my novels, while others feel deeply hurt by what I wrote. I feel like it’s unfair only to read reviews that are in my favor. 

—How do you deal with the reality that your work might hurt others? 

Kawakami: It’s a hard one. But at the same time, such reviews aren’t like advertisements; advertisements enter your eyesight even if you don’t want them to. With reviews, you have to seek them out actively. It does make me feel slightly at peace knowing that the reader has the freedom not to read my books. But someone will feel hurt no matter what; what’s the right thing to do with that knowledge in mind? It’d be nice if there were a way for no one to get hurt and left behind, but it’s difficult dealing with this issue from the perspective of “I’m going to make everyone happy.” You can’t come to one correct answer, so I believe all I can do is explore and contemplate what I can do, knowing I will inevitably hurt someone.  

Translation Lena Grace Suda 
Photography Takahiro Otsuji
Hair & Makeup Mieko Yoshioka

■Sisters in Yellow (Japanese)
Author: Mieko Kawakami 

During the summer of Hana’s 17th, her precarious communal life with other girls inside a “yellow house” unravels after the death of a woman… Why do people commit crimes? The author, making waves across the globe, tackles the noir genre for the first time with Sisters in Yellow.
608 pages
2,090 yen
https://www.chuko.co.jp/special/kiiroiie/

The post 時音 Vol. 22: Author Mieko Kawakami Asks, “How Do You Want to Live?” in Sisters in Yellow   appeared first on TOKION - Cutting edge culture and fashion information.

Kasumi Arimura
Born February 13th, 1993 in Hyogo prefecture. She made her TV drama debut in 2010 in She’s a Steely Woman! (Asahi TV), and gained widespread attention for her role in NHK’s TV series Amachan shortly thereafter, in 2013. In 2015, Arimura was cast as the lead in Biri Gal, and won the Japan Academy Award for best lead actress/best new actor, and for best lead actress in 2021 for her role in Hanataba Mitaina Koi Wo Shita. In 2022, she appeared in the TBS TV drama Ishiko and Haneo and the film Tsuki No Michi Kake. In 2023, she appeared in NHK period drama Dousuru Ieyasu and the film Call Me Chihiro. Other appearances include Natarrage (2017), Soshite, Ikiru (2019), Rurou Ni Kennshin the Final/the Beginnings (2021), Zenkamono (2022), and others.
https://www.flamme.co.jp/actress/profile.php?talentid=11
Instagram：@kasumi_arimura.official
Twitter：@Kasumistaff

There exists values that are born from the time and cherished by people throughout the ages. In this series,時音, we look back at the works of people who have promoted such values and speak with them about what they anticipate in the future.

In this installment, we interviewed actor Kasumi Arimura, star of the film Call Me Chihiro. The film is a live-action adaptation of Hiroyuki Yasuda’s manga of Chihiro-san, and is directed by Rikiya Imaizumi. The film follows former sex worker Chihiro who works at a lunch box shop in a small seaside town, and the various interactions she has with the people she meets there.

Arimura captivated audiences with her performances in the films Hanataba Mitaina Koi Wo Shita, the TV drama Ishiko and Haneo, and Call Me Chihiro. We interviewed her about where she’s at currently, at the age of 30.

A comfortable distance

– Call Me Chihiro was wonderful. I also love Ishiko (TV drama Ishiko To Haneo).

Kasumi Arimura: Thank you (laughs).

– I feel that the characters you’ve played in recent years, including Kinu (from Hanataba Mitaina Koi Wo Shita), have truly been captivating. What do you keep in mind when you play these roles?

Arimura: In my case, I find that I need to create a good foundation for my characters within myself, or else things become too vague. To do that, I look for the core of all the characters I play. For Chihiro, I built up her past based on clues written in the original manga. I assumed maybe Chihiro got tired of being too giving in the past, whether it was in her relationships with men or in her relationships at the company she worked for. Or that maybe she doesn’t know how to give love because she didn’t receive it from her mother. And perhaps that’s why Chihiro wants to give love to so many people, and why she ultimately ends up burning out. Those past experiences may have been what led her to keep her distance. I can’t verbally explain the nuances, but I put the pieces together to create the role within myself.

– What did you try to remain conscious of when expressing the Chihiro that you created using your own body?

Arimura: Chihiro looks good with short, blunt bangs and long black hair. Just from her appearance, you can sense a beautiful and charming person. She speaks gracefully, and possesses an unforgettable charm that comes across even after one conversation with her. It was difficult to create Chihiro’s distinct character since she’s at a different place than where I am usually, and has lived a different life than I have. So what I could do was try to lower my voice, not speak too fast, and try not to deviate too much from a certain level of emotion and passion felt from the tone of my voice.

– Did you work with Director Imaizumi to adjust how to depict the more delicate details of womanhood, such as Chihiro’s past as a sex worker or her relationship with Taniguichi (Ryuya Wakaba)?

Arimura: Director Imaizumi repeatedly asked me to “be a little more cheerful” on set. But he also mentioned that Chihiro is hard to depict because she couldn’t be too bubbly or too reserved. Mr. Imaizumi was probably also wondering if things were right while shooting, which I didn’t know the answer to, either. We basically finished shooting by worrying about it together.

– Can you tell us a scene that moved you while you were playing Chihiro?

Arimura: I think for Chihiro, her relationship with (the wife of the manager of the lunch box shop she works at) Tae (Jun Fubuki) is special. It felt as if Chihiro (her alias) could be her real self, Aya (her real name) in front of Tayo.

– Chihiro tends to keep her distance from people because of her past experiences and to maintain her emotional stability.

Arimura: I felt like I could understand why she kept her distance from people. When I think about it, I’m also not the type to overstep, and I keep a reasonable distance with even my friends. This keeps my emotions from fluctuating as much in my personal life, which is more comforting to me. Since I’m so stimulated in my work life, I want to be able to live an unstimulating, calm personal life as much as possible (laughs). I think about how the other person may want me to keep my distance, too.

For instance, if someone asks me to listen to a problem they’ve been having, it may be better for them if I keep a reasonable distance so I don’t accommodate so much or get sucked into their emotions. When I think about things like that, I feel like the way Chihiro keeps her distance is perfect for my current self.

– Do you think you, like Chihiro, learned to maintain distance because of your past experiences with different people?

Arimura: I met a lot of people in my twenties because of my line of work. It becomes difficult to maintain good relationships with so many people if I don’t keep a reasonable distance. If you’re part of an institution that allows you to work with the same people all the time, it’s best to build good relationships during a long period of time. But the projects I’m a part of take three months, or even as short as one month to finish. Of course I treat everyone the same when I first meet them, and I work hard for the months we’re shooting. But if I don’t let the people go after I say goodbye when production ends, I wouldn’t be able to maintain myself. There’s a part of me that can’t move on if I don’t do that.

– You mentioned that you find a lot of stimulation from your job. Can you elaborate?

Arimura: I meet and part with so many people throughout the short span of a year, I work with countless people for a single project, and I have to manipulate my emotions to act, whether that’s to cry, laugh, depict anger, suffering, or happiness. Everything I can’t get from my personal life is all stimulating.

– You don’t get used to that stimulation?

Arimura: No, you don’t. That’s why living a quiet and calm life at home enables me to be more myself. The more I lay low, the more I can ride the waves of emotion when I’m acting (laughs). I believe that’s my style, too.

Solitude does not equal loneliness

– Chihiro has some profound dialogue that makes us question how many lives she’s lived. Are there any lines that struck you in particular?

Arimura: “A meal eaten together is delicious, but a meal eaten alone is still delicious” is the line that struck me most. There’s a negative impression that people who are alone are lonely, but that’s not true. There are many people in the world who love solitude. If someone feels that it’s easier for them to be alone, that’s what makes them happy. This line felt accepting of the act of being alone.

For instance, finding a place where a schoolgirl can eat lunch alone may be very difficult for her, but it may also be her place of salvation. They are free to love that space, and I think many people may be relieved of these anxieties if there were people like Chihiro saying that spending time alone is perfectly fine. I think there’s a lot of dialogue in the manga and the movie that can help people.

I personally think there’s nothing wrong with solitude because I don’t think humans can understand each other 100%. There are always things others don’t know about you, whether it’s someone you like, friends, or family. That objectiveness can be fun; you can imagine what they’re thinking about, and really consider the other person. We learn so much when we confront each other, and I think solitude is at the root of this process.

You’re alone when you fight, too. For example, you’re alone when you’re fighting through a workload that was thrust upon you. I’m sure the fight with solitude is common in any profession, and the responsibility gets heavier the higher up you are. Like the student who has the best GPA in the class must be in solitude to maintain that position. Athletes are the same. There are cons to being in this position, but there are also a lot one can learn from being alone. That’s why I don’t believe solitude equals loneliness at all.

– Are you conscious of when you’re fighting, too?

Arimura: It’s more like I’m fighting against myself, not with others.

– Unlike academics and sports, there is no numerical ranking for actors. What are some of the things you use as a guide when fighting against yourself?

Arimura: Castmates are like comrades at war in any project. I don’t feel any competitiveness, even with actors who aren’t on the same project, because we’re all comrades. I may envy another actor because there are so many unique and charming people in the field, but I try not to pay attention to it. I have to fight to get through this role or that day of shooting. It’s a fight to overcome what’s in front of you everyday (laughs).

“I’d like to work towards a better quality workplace”

– Do you have any favorite scenes after watching the finished film?

Arimura: I basically like all the scenes that Okaji (Hana Toyoshima) and Makoto (Tetta Shimada) are in (laughs). Like the scene in Makoto’s house where Okaji cries eating the yakisoba made by Makoto’s mother (Yui Sakuma), or Chihiro’s POV shot of Okaji and Makoto when they go to Chihiro’s house bearing get-well gifts, each of their scenes are so precious. I think they played incredibly important roles in this film.

Makoto was very free, but could say all his lines when rolling regardless. That’s what amazed director Imaizumi, who would say, “that’s why he’s impressive” (laughs). I heard that Makoto couldn’t cry during his audition when he was asked to. But when he was leaving the room, he offhandedly said, “I guess the part of me that can’t cry came out today”, which left a strong impression on the director (laughs). He was a very interesting child.

– I think Okaji’s perspective of the future changed for the better by meeting Chihiro during her high school years. Have you met anyone who has had that sort of impact on you?

Arimura: If you’re asking about encounters I’ve had since I started working this job, I was impacted by a senior at my agency. I trailed behind them because I assumed that I could be like that person if I worked just as hard as them. I read interview articles to digest this person’s thought processes, because I wanted to know what they were thinking. I feel like I gained a wider perspective by doing that.

– You were cast in so many projects in your twenties. How are you feeling, after turning thirty on February 13th? I’m wondering what age means to you.

Arimura: I’m shocked to already be thirty (laughs). Thankfully, my situation and background changed very rapidly in the last decade. These ten years have almost been too rich of an experience, and felt like it was gone in an instant. In terms of age, I don’t put much emphasis on it. I often think about what I can do in the present to age gracefully.

– The fact that Call Me Chihiro will be available on Netflix on the day of its theatrical release will also be a new experience. What would you like to work on in the future?

Arimura: Work is more fun when you’re able to have discussions with others. There have been increasingly more situations in which people will do exactly what I say.Instead, I’d like to create a work environment where we can share thoughts and ideas with each other. I’d like to work towards a better quality workplace in my thirties.

■Call Me Chihiro
International streaming on Netflix & Japanese theatrical release on February 23rd
Cast: Kasumi Arimura, Hana Toyoshima, Tetta Shimada, van, Tatsuya Wakaba, Yui Sakuma, Lily Frankie, Jun Fubuki, and others.
Based on: Chihiro-san by Hiroyuki Yasuda (Akita Shoten “Akita Ladies/Comics/Deluxe” edition)
Director: Rikiya Imaizumi
Screenplay: Kaori Sawai, Rikiya Imaizumi
Producer: Netflix, Asmik Ace
Production company: Asmik Ace, Digital Frontier
Distribution: Asmik Ace
https://chihiro-san.asmik-ace.co.jp

Translation Mimiko Goldstein
Photography Mikako Kozai（L management）
Styling Yumiko Segawa
Hair & Make-up Izumi Omagari

The post 時音 Vol. 20: Interview with Actor Kasumi Arimura on How to Approach a Role appeared first on TOKION - Cutting edge culture and fashion information.

The 19th installment is about artist Keiichi Tanaami. Many of his collage-based works represent the deep unconscious, bolstered by his professional editing skills. The colorful mass of details is made of eloquent paradoxes, which leaves the viewer stunned. 

In recent years, Tanaami has collaborated with fashion brands such as Adidas and Junya Watanabe and created album covers for musicians like Nina Kravitz and Aki Yashiro. As such, he continues to push the boundaries of his artistic career. 

Instead of growing weaker with age, he bursts with vitality like geothermal energy. Tanaami says he has more creativity and wisdom today than his younger years. His life is a pursuit of light amid an uncertain future, a compass that shows the struggling world the way. We spoke to the artist in hopes of unearthing his core creativity and spirit in his studio in Aoyama, surrounded by his monumental works.

Keiichi Tanaami
Keiichi Tanaami was born in Tokyo in 1936. Since graduating from Musashino Art University, he’s worked as a graphic designer, filmmaker, and artist from the 60s onward without being limited by mediums and genres. His recent major exhibitions include “The World Goes Pop,” held at Tate Modern in London in 2015, “Oliver Payne and Keiichi Tanaami,” at Hammer Museum in Los Angeles, and “Memorial Reconstruction” at Nanzuka in 2020. Tanaami’s works are on permanent exhibit in globally renowned museums, such as the Museum of Modern Art and the Art Institute of Chicago.

At the intersection between art and design

–It’s my understanding that you honed your masterful collaged pieces, the foundation of your work, through a steady career in graphic design. Could you walk me through the changes in your career and art?

Keiichi Tanaami: After I graduated from the department of design at Musashino Art University, I worked in advertising at Hakuhodo. After roughly three years, I quit and mainly focused on design. My work during my Musashino days was mostly design-related, but I had already developed an interest in art then. My parents and relatives strongly advised me not to pursue art because they felt it was hard to make a living off it. I chose a career in design as a result of being realistic. I still wanted to work on my art skills, but I didn’t have enough time to do it; I had a dilemma because I felt like I was leading only a half-fulfilling life. Most of my friends at the time were artists rather than designers, such as Tomio Miki, Shusaku Arakawa, Ushio Shinohara, and Genpei Akasegawa. They belonged to the so-called “Anti-Art” movement. I couldn’t help but be in awe of who they were and how they lived as they strived for something completely different from conventional art.

–Were other people in your circle involved in commercial design and anti-art?

Tanaami: No, they weren’t. Professor Hiromu Hara of Musashino Art University, who was a leading figure in the field, always told me to focus on design rather than something as crude as drawing. And yet, I kept drawing, but it wasn’t like I didn’t enjoy designing. I constantly thought: “There’s no point if I don’t enter a space where I can express myself freely if I want my work to reflect my way of living.” 

I spent my youth struggling with that, but one day, I realized the great importance of the discipline of design in art. Since then, I’ve incorporated design techniques and methods in experimental filmmaking and drawing. In other words, my design process plays a significant role in my artistic expression. 

–Did you feel a sense of confidence in your work when you came across pop art, seeing as you worked in commercial design and anti-art and experienced the fusion of art and design?

Tanaami: I do think so, yes. For instance, Andy Warhol made books and films aside from paintings. His work didn’t strongly influence me as a painter per se, but I related to his thinking behind his creation process, the technique of directly incorporating the editing process into the final product, and the principles behind his pop art paintings. If anything, I was able to understand my anti-art friends’ ideologies through Warhol.

–How did you meet Andy Warhol?

Tanaami: I didn’t meet him until much later. There was only one foreign-language bookstore in Ginza, which my friend Gyu-chan (Ushio Shinohara) and I often visited. One day, the critic Jinichi Uekusa, a regular customer of the bookstore, dropped his books as he tripped down the stairs. Gyu-chan and I helped him. As a token of his appreciation, he told us about emerging art forms and artworks in America while showing us a copy of ARTnews. There were photos of pop art pieces like those by Warhol and Lichtenstein, and I was shocked. I thought, “I didn’t know people accepted this type of art.”

–Did you sense a design element from pop art?

Tanaami: Warhol and Lichtenstein used materials from commercial mediums and mass media to produce art. That was similar to what I would do as a graphic designer, so I started thinking I could also create fine art while maintaining my position as a designer. 

–You met Warhol in person later on, yes?

Tanaami: Warhol was having a solo show at Daimaru, a department store, in Tokyo for the first time in 1974. I was asked to do the art direction for NHK’s one-hour television special. I wanted to use his face for the TV show’s visuals and asked the cameraman from NHK to photograph him. However, Warhol was in a bad mood from start to finish because he was tired from traveling, so we couldn’t go through with the photoshoot. So, I changed my initial plan and decided to create a collage from my own animation. 

I sent him the completed footage, and he loved it, even though my design didn’t use Warhol as a motif. I had been fascinated by him before that point and was happy when I heard he was having a show in Tokyo. I feel like the final product naturally reflected those thoughts.

–You’ve had many Japanese and international collaborations with fashion brands such as Comme des Garçons and Adidas. You’ve also made artwork for musicians. How do you utilize the design framework when you collaborate with others? 

Tanaami: Whenever I’m working on a collaboration, I don’t provide a visual the client wants and leave it at that. Collaborating on the overall design is essential, considering that I have a lot of experience as a designer. I start by putting out ideas, even if it’s a t-shirt project. I’ve spent many years painting and designing simultaneously, and today, I don’t feel like a designer anymore. I now feel like my job is that of an artist. Thankfully, I get fun job offers, so I’ve never felt distressed about it. I especially like working with clothes because they move. Great projects inspire my artistic expression, so they have a positive synergy. 

 The inspiration behind imagination

–A clear source of inspiration for your art seems to be your childhood experiences and memories of war.

Tanaami: I experienced the horrors of war when I was small, and looking back now, nothing compares to how shocking it was. None of my other memories are as intense as war. That’s how terrible it was. You might understand what I’m saying a little bit if you think about the situation in Ukraine: I saw people dying every day like it was normal. I wouldn’t have seen anything like it if it weren’t for war. Because I saw people dying as a child, the memories are engraved in my memory. I can’t erase them. I don’t try to depict war in an obvious way, but I have these memories I haven’t fully processed in the depths of my heart. Those memories present themselves subconsciously in my work. 

–On one hand, you were influenced by American culture, but on the other, Japan fought them in the war. How did you come to terms with that?

Tanaami: When I started middle school after the war, I used to go to a small movie theater near Meguro station since there was nothing else to do. They specialized in American B-films, probably because of their wishes, and would play what you’d call propaganda films.

I repeatedly heard my parents talk about how America was the enemy, so I naturally had a negative view of the country. But I fell in love with the country as I started watching films that captured what made America so good, such as those by Disney and the Fleischer Brothers. I’d say there were quite a few young people who admired America.

–Your works feature American fighter aircraft but in an ironic tone.

Tanaami: I couldn’t fully understand the meaning of war as a child, but I saw suffering every day. My complicated and conflicted emotions, namely my admiration and negative feelings toward America, show up in my work. 

I strongly remember the lunch boxes the American army would provide for us. We would get one parcel per household once a month because food was scarce after the war. One of the items was the lunches packed with food the American army would eat. They would place bright white bread, fish, sausages, fruits, and snacks in a balanced way in these nice lunch boxes. I was captivated by their beauty. 

Also, there was what you would call a Western-style house next door, and an American commissioned officer’s family lived there. They had a small girl. I vividly remember how a maid who used to work there often gave me sweets like chocolate and gum that the girl used to eat. I became mesmerized by the American lifestyle through them. 

–I have a negative image of war, as it destroys people’s everyday lives with its utter senselessness. It’s a reality that surpasses reality. Do war’s negative power and energy come to the fore in your work?

Tanaami: In many cases, the art I make starts to resemble the image I have of war, even though that’s not my intention. One example is my use of color. After the war, I returned to Tokyo from Niigata, where we had evacuated, and looked over the city from the top of Gonnosukezaka at Meguro station. I knew the city very well, but the trees and buildings were gone. Everything had changed entirely. In front of me was a red, scorched earth, and beyond the horizon was the most transparent blue sky I had ever seen. It was shocking to see the absence of things that were there every day and the landscape’s two different colors, red and blue. That experience will always influence the colors I use to draw and paint. And the memory of what I saw will always come back to me.

–One of the features of your art is your use of rich colors. Where do you get that inspiration from? 

Tanaami: It’s said that childhood experiences influence one’s sensibilities regarding color later in life, which applies to me too. My grandfather ran a textile shop in Kyobashi, and his house was behind Takashimaya Department Store. I spent my childhood in an environment full of color; the city was decorated with neon signs, and Takashimaya was my playground. He had piles of textiles at home, and among the piles were labels you’d put on jackets. Back then, labels were so intricate. These fantastic patterns, like camels, were embroidered with gold or silver threads, so I never got bored looking at them. I feel my childhood experiences involving color inform my use of color today, which can be seen as excessive for some. 

The shift in creating art during covid

–How did you spend your time when covid restrictions were strict? Did that period influence your art?

Tanaami: When I turned 70, I thought it would be hard to continue working as an artist, but my desire to express myself is stronger than ever. It’s become stronger because I was limited in what I could do due to the pandemic. I used to think you have a lot of creativity and wisdom in your youth and that they decline as you age, but it seems that isn’t the case for me. I’m sure I’ve grown physically weaker, but it’s so strange how I have more creativity now compared to my 30s and 40s. I come up with things I want to express one after the other, and my hands move on their own accord. Even if I have lower energy levels now, it doesn’t feel like it. I considered slowing down around my 50s, but that’s not even a consideration for me anymore. 

–Does one of the reasons for that stem from how you had more time to think about things because society paused due to covid?

Tanaami: Perhaps. Looking back, I couldn’t spend time on what I wanted to do before covid because I worked across many fields. People wanted me to make quick decisions because of deadlines. But I had more time to myself once many things paused because of covid, allowing me to focus on my thoughts all day. That had a massive effect on me. Now, I come up with ideas I never had before, which has broadened my creative horizons. 

Also, I started replicating Picasso’s “Mother and Child” during the pandemic. I first tried to paint around ten of them, but I had painted hundreds before I knew it. I’m not trying to study some skills from Picasso’s work. I realized that by looking at his work while I paint, my thinking never ceases to end. I can discover an array of things through that. For instance, Picasso drew strange-looking hands, and I began to understand why he did this the more I copied his work. It’s not like I was “possessed” by his spirit, but it was the first time I painted while paying acute attention to how his line of thinking started making sense to me. It was an exciting experience.  

–I was under the impression you worked on your design-related projects using spontaneous ideas. But it seems like you distanced yourself from that method and created the pieces for your exhibition, “A Mirror of the World,” using ideas that came to you effortlessly and naturally. 

Tanaami: When I started replicating Picasso’s “Mother and Child,” I studied it very well to convey the composition and details with accuracy, but I eventually began distorting the paintings a bit. From there, I got many ideas I wanted to test out, like what it’d be like if I painted “Mother and Child” without looking at it. It felt like I was experimenting over and over again. That didn’t change that I was copying his work, but I could tell my paintings were going in a new direction. It’s fun when your methodology becomes more diversified. 

Picasso’s work has an infinite pool of different critiques, but we won’t see a creative genius like him that soon. Some artists’ works are fun to replicate, but I never run out of things to think about when I’m copying Picasso’s work. It makes me think things like, “Wow, Picasso’s posthumous works became Picasso himself.” It’s a scary thought, in a way, but I can’t stop painting. That’s what made him a talented artist. It’s said he painted close to 40,000 pieces. It’s impressive how he had the energy to do that. Apparently, he was fast at painting, and instead of simply mixing and creating colors on his palette, he would apply pure colors onto the canvas and paint directly on there.

When I worked as a designer, I didn’t have the habit of spending much time on and thinking about my work. I worked fast; I would get an idea of what I wanted to do in a meeting. I didn’t dig deep into my thoughts or struggle through trial and error. When I’m replicating Picasso’s work, the time I spend in front of the canvas is the time I think. By doing this, I get more ideas and feel more motivated. I feel like this for the first time because I stand on the shoulder of the giant that is Picasso.

Meeting Fujio Akatsuka

–I see that your studio has collages incorporating Fujio Akatsuka-san’s characters and expressions.

Tanaami: I’m an Akatsuka fan through and through. I used to envy him and developed a complex because I couldn’t become a manga artist even though I wanted to. We’re around the same age, but he was a massive star. Whenever we met, I would talk to him like he were a teacher, so our conversations didn’t flow. I wanted to be closer to him, but I put up a wall, so I sadly couldn’t foster a friendship with him. 

I met Akatsuka-san through the film director Koji Wakamatsu-san. Wakamatsu-san used to go to a bar I frequented, and he introduced me to Akatsuka-san, who was already a star at that point. I was nervous, so I sat and listened to the two’s conversation. Wakamatsu-san said he needed help because he didn’t have enough funding for his film. Akatsuka-san took a couple of sips, thought about it for a while, and said, “Yeah, sure.” Not only was he a successful manga artist, but he was also a tremendous person.

–It sounds like he had a big heart beyond the average person’s understanding. 

Tanaami: Yes. We started seeing each other daily at the bar, but I always saw him as superior. He often brought a young man wearing a necktie, and that was Tamori-san. He had a bit called “Hadaka no Show,” where Akatsuka-san would lie on the floor naked, and Tamori-san would pour wax from an absurdly thick candle on him. Akatsuka-san’s body would get beet red, and he would writhe and yelp in pain. That went on every day. It was so scary (laughs). The bar had a candle set just for him called the “Akatsuka set,” and they would perform their show everywhere. I was so impressed by him when I watched what he did. Akatsuka-san was an extraordinary man. 

I was just in awe of him. Akatsuka-san was a kind person without a single bad bone in his body. He was pretty similar to my friend Gyu-chan, and I still feel like we could’ve been closer to one another had I been more open. 

■A Mirror of the World
Date: November 12th to December 25th
Venue: Nanzuka Underground
Location: Jingumae, Shibuya-ku, Tokyo 3-30-10
Time: 11 AM to 7 PM
Closed on: Mondays, Holidays
Entrance fee: Free
Official website: https://nanzuka.com/

Photography RiE Amano
Interview Akio Kunisawa
Edit Jun Ashizawa(TOKION)
Translation Lena Grace Suda

The post 時音 Vol. 19 Keiichi Tanaami’s “Mirror of the World” appeared first on TOKION - Cutting edge culture and fashion information.

The 18th installment features Ado, a celebrated artist of today. After making her major debut with “Usseewa” in 2020, she’s fascinated the masses, regardless of age or gender. The theme song for One Piece Film Red, “New Genesis,” landed in the top 100 across all streaming platforms and became a hit. Ado scored the top spot on Apple Music’s global charts, thus gaining worldwide attention. The two shows that she’s done sold out, which became big news.

Today, each action she takes reverberates throughout the nation; what does the 20-year-old singer think about herself? We talk about Ado’s song with Ringo Sheena, “Missing,” and who the singer changing the 2020s is.

Ado
Ado is a singer born on October 24th, 2002. She became a social phenomenon with her major debut single, “Usseewa,” and breathed new life into the Japanese music scene. The soundtrack to the globally popular film, One Piece Film Red, titled Uta no Uta, features the theme song, “New Genesis,” which has been well received. In October, she teamed up with Ringo Sheena and released “Missing,” the theme song of the film Karada Sagashi. Ado will go on her first tour, “Ado Live Tour 2022-2023 Shinkiro,” on December 2nd. 
https://www.universal-music.co.jp/ado
Twitter：@ado1024imokenp
Instagram：@ado1024sweetpotet
YouTube：Ado

“New Genesis,” a song tying fiction and reality

――Your name became recognized all over Japan within two years of your debut. How have these two years been for you?

Ado: It’s been an eventful two years. People learned about me through my major debut song, “Usseewa,” and I had a lot of amazing opportunities, like singing theme songs for films and TV shows. I’ve just continued to sing. I’ve had two live performances, and most recently, I sang the songs Uta sang in the film One Piece Film Red, so I feel like my voice has reached even more people than before. Once I announced my nationwide tour, I collaborated with Ringo Sheena-san for “Missing.” I don’t have enough words to talk about the great things that have happened to me.

――The theme song for One Piece Film Red, “New Genesis,” earned the number one spot on Apple Music’s global charts; it’s been an enormous success. How does it feel to get this kind of response?

Ado: I’m sure this song has gotten a big reaction because of One Piece’s popularity. I felt anxious when I got approached to sing the part of Uta. I was worried about whether people would accept the disparity between Uta’s aesthetic and my singing voice and whether I could embody her as a songstress.

Uta is a character that’s adored worldwide as a songstress of a new era, and in reality, the song “New Genesis” became loved by people worldwide. I felt like what was happening inside the anime connected to the real world. I’m so grateful to be a part of it, and I want to thank everyone involved in the film from the bottom of my heart. 

――You had your first solo show on April 4th, called “Kigeki,” and your second, called “Campanella,” on August 11th at Saitama Super Arena, both of which excited your fans. What are your thoughts on live shows now that you’ve done them twice?

Ado: I love performing live. I want to continue doing it. Now that I’ve done two shows, I want to deliver even better performances and make everyone even more inspired. I hope to continue growing onstage and do my best so people can say my latest show was the best one I’ve ever done. I have a cohesive theme for my tour, so I want to give a high-quality performance wherever the venue is.

Photography Viola Kam

Working on “Missing” with Ringo Sheena

Ado “Missing”

――You mentioned her name, but you released “Missing” with Ringo Sheena-san. How was it like recording with her?

Ado: I sang in front of her in the recording studio and incorporated her advice into my vocal performance. Ringo Sheena-san brought out a different side of how I usually sing.

――Can you expand on that? 

Ado: The intro to the first verse has a cold feel. Ringo Sheena-san asked me to sing unnaturally, like a Vocaloid. I felt like she understood me deeply when she said that. It made me happy because it seemed like she thought about how I got into singing because of Vocaloids. I also felt a sense of surprise, and it reaffirmed how “Missing” is truly a song by both Ringo Sheena-san and me because of the process we went through.

――In regards to the making of “Missing,” Ringo Sheena-san has said you sound like the ideal stray cat, which sent shivers down her spine. What are your thoughts on that?

Ado: I was surprised to learn that being called a stray cat can be a compliment. I don’t know how to explain my singing voice, but it felt right when Ringo Sheena-san did. It was very like her to say that about me, so her words made me happy from the bottom of my heart. The expression is very humorous and unique.

―― agree. I got what she meant when she said that.

The necessity to have fun while singing

――I’d like to know about your background. ORIHARA-san is your image director. How did Orihara-san come to draw your image for you?

Ado: ORIHARA-san used to draw fan art for me. They draw memorable illustrations, so I was instantly attracted to them and used them for my YouTube icon. After that, I had to think of someone to create images for me once I made my major debut, so I asked ORIHARA-san to do it. 

――You felt like ORIHARA-san’s illustrations spoke to you.

Ado: Yes. They portray the person I want to be even when I don’t have the words to describe it. They understood who Ado was and drew illustrations that went beyond the idea I had in my mind. The quality of their illustrations improves yearly, and I think that’s great.

――Your tour, “Ado Live Tour 2022-2023 Shinkiro,” is happening in December. What are your goals for the tour and plans for the near future?

Ado: I feel like my nationwide tour, “Shinkiro,” is the next step from my show at Saitama Super Arena, which was a massive goal of mine. This tour and set of shows will show me what lies in the distance, whether that’s reality or otherwise. My goal is to become the ideal singer. One of my objectives is to reach a point where people get surprised because of how shocking, brilliant, and cool I can be. 

――Are there any specific steps you have in mind to get there?

Ado: One step is to interact more with my foreign fanbase. More people can listen to my songs in other countries, so I’d do shows abroad if people want me to, and I also want to communicate with them. That’s one of my goals. I also strive to perform on bigger stages. I want to play at big venues that I haven’t yet within these next few years.

――What do you do daily to polish your voice so you can be Ado? Do you have any advice for children who want to be like you and younger fans?

Ado: Keep singing, and have fun doing it. If you don’t give up on what you love doing and keep believing in your singing abilities, singing will become your friend. 

Text Ryo Tajima
Translation Lena Grace Suda

The post 時音 Vol. 18 The Evolutionary Era of Singer Ado appeared first on TOKION - Cutting edge culture and fashion information.

This time, we feature photographer Daido Moriyama. He is a world-renowned master of snapshots who takes photographs while walking on the street with a compact camera in hand. He describes his work as, “Walking, looking, shooting. That’s it”, but the single shot that results from that one step has always surprised the world.

“I can keep stepping forward because of this. It’s just like a lifeline, which is as essential as electricity or gas is” Moriyama says so of his self-published photo journal Record (記録) he launched in 1972. In 1973, the journal ceased publication in the wake of the oil crisis, but was resurrected in 2006 with the publication of its sixth issue. Since then, the magazine has continuously released, and this year he published its 50th issue. To commemorate the publication, AKIO NAGASAWA GALLERY GINZA is holding an exhibition of photo images from all the fifty issues on multiple slide screens. At the venue, all the photographs in Record are projected randomly, transcending the time and place where they were taken.

“These are for sure photographs I have taken, but I feel as if I am encountering them for the first time” In front of these images, Daido Moriyama talked about his  journal Record and “photographs.”

“All of my daily life is reflected in Record“

—Record began as “a minimal medium to hand-deliver what you photographed and immediately printed to people nearby.” What was the motivation behind this? And why did you choose the word “Record” for the title?

Daido Moriyama (Moriyama): To put it simply, I wanted to print out fragments of my true daily life for people to see. That is why I started Record. Therefore, it is a little different from a photo book in which I select and compile images from a collection of photos I have taken. I would print them out as quickly as possible and have people look at them, which is what Record is all about. As for the title, it’s really simple: “A photograph is a ‘record’.” Of course, a photograph is both a “commemoration” and a “memory,” as in “commemorative photograph.” I had always thought that photography simply consisted of these three elements of “record,” “commemoration,” and “memory.” But I felt that “commemoration” and “memory” did not fit well as titles, so I decided on “record,” which is the simplest. So there was no deep reason for it.

–You started the first issue of Record in 1972, and then ceased publication once.

Moriyama: I stopped it in 1973, so the publication ceased shortly after its launch (laughs). Because of the oil crisis in 1973, the cost of printing skyrocketed considerably. I wanted to continue, but it was impossible for me because I couldn’t afford it.

–This year is exactly 50 years since 1972, when the first issue was published. That’s half a century. Looking back on the Record, do you feel that anything has changed significantly during that time?

Moriyama: In a sense, Record is my personal media, so it’s no use for me to look back on things like that. However, it was a big deal that Akio Nagasawa of AKIO NAGASAWA GALLERY asked me to do Record again in 2006. That was how Record was restarted. Until then, Record had been in my memory and on my mind for a long time, and it came back to me in a flash at that moment. From that point on, my daily life has been reflected in the Record. For example, it contains not only my daily life in Tokyo, but also when I go abroad to take photographs, which is a one-time-only daily life for me. I have never changed the way I want people to see fragments of my daily life as they are. Viewer can simply look at them, without thinking about this and that. That is how Record works. But there are always the feeling of commemoration and the form of memory also mixed in it.

–In the afterword to Record, you mention Shomei Tomatsu and Takuma Nakahira. As to the mixture of record, commemoration and memory, do mean that such memories appear as you work on the Record?

Moriyama: I think that “commemoration,” “memory,” and “record” are not clearly separated, but exist in my own time in a way that they are mixed together. Therefore, Record is a way to have people see these concepts of time through the media. I am also being shown it, and I also want to see it.

–It’s interesting that you also think you want to see it. Does that mean that there is something different between when you are shooting and after the photo becomes a Record?

Moriyama: They are all different. The clearest example is this exhibition. Surrounded by the photographic images, I myself looked at them anew and encountered them anew. That is why photographs are what they are. What is photographed is a momentary event, but it circulates in newer times one after another. I am part of that cycle. Then I feel as if I am also being circulated. That is a very interesting part of this exhibition.

— So does it mean that it’s possible to see things taken 50 years ago that feel current, or to see things taken now that feel like things taken in the 1970s?

Moriyama: I have an anthology of essays titled The Past is Always New, the Future is Always Nostalgic（過去はいつも新しく、未来はつねに懐かしい〔2000〕）, and I think it is photography that makes me feel that way. It may sound a bit smug to put it into words, but you should not look at photographs as if they are old because they were taken a long time ago. Whether they were taken in the past or will be taken in the future, they all come together to form a single photography.

–For example, the 33rd issue of “Record” is a book made up entirely of photographs taken on that one day. Issue No. 50 is a book of photographs of only one woman. How did you come up with that idea?

Moriyama: The photos of the woman in the 50th issue were taken after chatting with Nagasawa. I was like, “Now I want to take a picture of a girl,” and I asked him, “Where should we do shooting?” He was like, “Well, let’s do it here,” and we went out to the outside of the gallery and did the shooting in Ginza and Yurakucho. That’s it. Also in terms of Issue No. 33, I just came up with the idea and decided to do that. It wasn’t like I had a theme in mind. I just wanted to photograph the present. In the process of doing so, I ended up with the 50th issue.

“If you don’t walk, you can’t see, shoot, or even think. “

–In past interviews about photographing the present, you have said, “I just walk, see, and photograph.” And you described your daily life as “incredibly simple life” Do you think that ideas just emerge from this sort of daily life?

Moriyama: That hasn’t changed since before Record, but if you don’t walk, you can’t see, shoot, or even think. Other photographers are different, but in my case, I have to walk. As long as I walk, I see. As long as I see, I shoot because I am a photographer. I don’t think there is anything more necessary than that. That is something that somehow has always remained the same. People often say to me, “You take the same pictures all the time, don’t you?” But I think I myself change a little every day, and if I take one step outside, I find a different world from the one I had before. Whether it is Shinjuku or Ikebukuro, the people walking around are different, I am different, and everyone is different. That is the only way. If I don’t take pictures, I don’t know who I am.

–So there are times when even you don’t understand yourself?

Moriyama: Of course. There are also times when I lose my sense of understanding by taking pictures. But even so, if I continue to take pictures, I will begin to see things. After all, once you leave your house, there is the outside world, and the outside world is alive. The city literally is alive. I am a part of them, and I slip away in and take pictures of them.

— It must have been difficult for you to walk outside in the past few years because of the pandemic.

Moriyama: I was shooting inside the house for about two days, but for me, I couldn’t help it if I didn’t go outside. No matter how many stores are closed, that’s what the city looks like today. That is the view of the city under the COVID-19 pandemic. It is true that there are few people on the bus, and the town is almost empty. But that is also reality. As a photographer, I feel a kind of reality in all of this. For Issue No. 50, I took pictures of a woman because that is what I felt like doing, but from Issue No. 51, I decided to go out into the city again. Well, I’ve already started shootings for the next one. That’s how I continue to do the same thing for a long time. I myself am too old to walk as fast as I used to, but as long as I have legs, I take pictures because the city is there. I think that’s good enough.

–What makes you want to take pictures when you go outside?

Moriyama: There is not much of a reason. To put it in a complicated way, it is something like the physiology and constitution of myself as a human being. There is no reason for each photograph, but all of them have my physiology, body, and feelings, and within them are memories, feelings to commemorate, and thoughts to remember. When I am taking a picture, I think all of these things come together. I walk around with my physiology, my body, and my feelings of the day. First, I walk. I see. And I take pictures. That is my daily life, my real daily life.

記録 RECORD
Dates: Open until September 3
Venue: AKIO NAGASAWA GALLERY GINZA
Address: Ginsho Bldg. 6F, 4-9-5 Ginza, Chuo-ku, Tokyo
Hours: 11:00-19:00 (closed 13:00-14:00 on Saturdays)
Holidays: Sunday – Monday and national holidays
Admission: Free
Web site: https://www.akionagasawa.com/jp/exhibition/record/

AKIO NAGASAWA GALLERY AOYAMA will showcase photographic prints mainly from Record Issue No. 50 from June 9. All Record (in stock only) will also be available for purchase.

記録RECORD
Dates: June 9 – August 6
Venue: AKIO NAGASAWA GALLERY AOYAMA
Address: Noir Bldg. 2F, 5-12-3 Minami-Aoyama, Minato-ku, Tokyo
Hours: 11:00-19:00 (closed from 13:00-14:00)
Holidays: Sunday – Wednesday, National Holidays
Admission: Free

Photography RiE Amano
Edit Jun Ashizawa(TOKION)
Translation Shinichiro Sato(TOKION)

The post 時音 Vol.17 “Walking, looking, shooting. That’s it” Photographer Daido Moriyama Talks about the Record and Photography appeared first on TOKION - Cutting edge culture and fashion information.

Following last year’s outbreak, the pandemic didn’t subside this year and the new year started with the second state of emergency issued in four prefectures including Tokyo. On the other hand, the vaccination against Covid-19 started and we started to hear some good news including a gradual decline in the number of newly infected people. However, we believe that the situation in 2022 is expected to remain highly uncertain due to factors including the new variant Omicron and the impact of inflation overseas.

In this turbulent time, we started the “The Sound of Now” series to look to present-day values, which could be cherished withstanding the test of time. In this series, we asked people who addressed these values to look back on their past activities and share their insights looking into the future.

What was missing in 2021? Amid widespread anxiety that never seems to end, we shall attend to “The Sound of Now” to uncover clues to improve our situation and be inspired.

Vol. 9: Hiroshi Sugimoto’s 25-Years-Long Project, The Enoura Observatory

Hiroshi Sugimoto, a contemporary artist, spent ten years envisioning the Enoura Observatory. The Observatory is a place to disseminate the essence of Japanese culture, a place to return to the origins of art and humankind, and a pinnacle of Sugimoto’s refined taste. In October 2020, he published Enoura Kitan (“Mysterious tales of Enoura”), which explains the reason he was drawn to Enoura. We interviewed Sugimoto, who had to extend his stay in Japan due to the pandemic, at his studio in Tokyo.

Vol.10 Miwa Nishikawa’s “Under the Open Sky” is a story that needs to be told

In February 2021,the film Under the Open Sky directed by Miwa Nishikawa was released nationwide in Japan. Based on a non-fiction novel Mibuncho by Ryuzo Saki, the film portrays a former yakuza’s return to society after leaving prison. The protagonist experiences the kindness and harshness of people, and the reality of living in a society that is hard for him to fit in. As the protagonist navigates between comfort and hardships, the film captures the warmth of the people. What kind of society do we see through the life of the protagonist?

Vol. 11　Hikari Ota of Bakushō Mondai discusses comedy and political correctness

In December 2020, Hikari Ota of Bakushō Mondai, published Geinin Jingo, a compilation of essays. In this book, he approached a wide range of topics with his unique perspective: “Drugs in the Entertainment Industry”, “Freedom of Expression”, “The Mass and Television”, “The Empress and Covid” and other timely topics. The book let the readers get a deeper look into Ota’s thoughts than they would on TV or radio. Based on his essays, we asked Ota about his thoughts on “what it means to be a comedian”, and his approach to comedy.

Vol.12　The Idea Behind Photographer Yoshihiko Ueda’s Film: “Truth Only Exists Right by You”

Yoshihiko Ueda is a photographer known for his work on numerous advertising photos, including Suntory, Shiseido, and TOYOTA. He released his first feature film, A Garden of Camellias in April 2021. As the film follows the change of four seasons, we feel the passage of time along with stunning images. By focusing on fragments of life and memories that we tend to overlook, the film reveals the truth about life hidden in our daily lives. What is the meaning of truth that Ueda wanted to convey in this film?

Vol.13 AMBUSH® designer Yoon’s power of envisioning the future

Yoon, the jewelry designer of AMBUSH®, collaborated with global companies including Dior Homme. She conveys her message and vision of the future from a sociological perspective with confidence. Why does her message resonate with people all over the world? As she looks back on Tokyo’s landscape and the transformation of communities since she moved to Japan from the U.S., Yoon expands on the need to have the capacity to think, which is vital for the future.

Vol.14　Novelist Ryo Asai gazes at a view that’s two steps ahead

Ryo Asai published Seiyoku in 2021 to commemorate the tenth anniversary of his career as a writer. In his debut novel, Kirishima, Bukatsu Yamerutteyo, Asai reveals the social hierarchy of school through the disappearance of its protagonist. In Nanimono, which won the Naoki Prize in 2013, he illustrates the shift in how people communicate on social media in the midst of job hunting. Known for expertly depicting the atmosphere of the times and the feelings of the people, how did Asai describe a sense of discomfort towards society in his latest book?

Vol.15 “Be here now”—Artist Tadanori Yokoo meditates on his creative career

Tadanori Yokoo, a contemporary artist, held his largest exhibition to date, GENKYO YOKOO TADANORI at the Museum of Contemporary Art Tokyo. Yokoo continues to be an influential figure for artists around the globe for his nonconforming work without any specific style, his call to abandon overthinking, his ability to rid mundane desires, and letting his intuition guide the work. We asked him to reflect on his creative activities, including “WITH CORONA,” a series that he started by posting on his blog and Twitter.

Vol.16 Why Hisashi Eguchi Chooses to be Both an Illustrator and a Manga Artist

Many people know Hisashi Eguchi as a manga artist, while some people know him as an illustrator who draws female characters that he refers to as Kanojo (She). His appeals are the outstanding illustrations, witty humor, unpredictable and thrill-inducing twists, and story settings. His readers are holding their breath thinking if the next episode will come out the following week or not. As we look at his illustrations and tweets during the pandemic, we try to get closer to the complex magnetism of Eguchi.

Translation Fumiko.M

The post Tune into “The Sound of Now” 「時音」 : Discover Ideas to Improve Your Life and Be Inspired.  A Compilation of This Year’s「時音」Series -Part 2- appeared first on TOKION - Cutting edge culture and fashion information.

Following last year’s outbreak, the pandemic didn’t subside this year and the new year started with the second state of emergency issued in four prefectures including Tokyo. On the other hand, the vaccination against Covid-19 started and we started to hear some good news including a gradual decline in the number of newly infected people. However, we believe that the situation in 2022 is expected to remain highly uncertain due to factors including the new variant Omicron and the impact of inflation overseas.

In this turbulent time, we started the “The Sound of Now” series to look to present-day values, which could be cherished withstanding the test of time. In this series, we asked people who addressed these values to look back on their past activities and share their insights looking into the future.

What was missing in 2021? Amid widespread anxiety that never seems to end, we shall attend to “The Sound of Now” to uncover clues to improve our situation and be inspired.

Vol.1　“Undreamt Chapter” Contrasting a Changing World with the non-changing self. Jun Miyake Scored the Theme Track for “TOKION”

Jun Miyake, a globally acclaimed composer based in Paris, conceived “Undreamt Chapter” for TOKION. Miyake couldn’t leave Japan due to the pandemic and our first meeting for the project took place the day before the first state of emergency was declared. He spoke to us about his frame of mind when he composed “Undreamt Chapter,” which was included in his latest album Whispered Garden released on December 15.

Vol.2　Neither journalism nor a documentary: The new possibilities of beautiful photograph -Nagi Yoshida-

Nagi Yoshida, a photographer, established an unparalleled field capturing the world of ethnic minorities and indigenous tribes in African and the Brazilian Amazon by building rapport with them. Last year, she published “DRAG QUEEN -No Light, No Queen-“ (Writes Publishing, Inc), which featured drag queens, a minority presence in big cities. Her work was received with a surprise for its originality. We asked about the aesthetics that she pursues, which ceaselessly invites the audience to another world.

Vol.3 How CHAI Is Connecting With the World From Home

When CHAI released their debut album in 2017, they made a splash with their pop personality and unique band concept. Since returning from an overseas tour with folk-rock duo Whitney in February 2020, what have they taken in as the pandemic forced them to stay at home? We spoke to the members about their experience of steadily building their reputation as an international band.  

Vol.4 imma has positive thought and her own individual regardless of real or virtual life

Japan’s first virtual model and influencer, imma, donning her distinctive pink bob hair, rapidly rose to fame on Instagram in 2018. Her height, weight, and nationality are all unknown. Although she is well-known virtually, people have been intrigued with her presence as a woman and expressed their empathy towards her. Her words have a power of persuasion regardless of whether it’s been said in the virtual sphere or the real world. As we listen to imma’s narrative, we see her as an energetic figure with a promising outlook for the future.  

Vol.5 Kiyoshi Kurosawa’s Realistic Lens on Times of Crisis

In 2020, film director Kiyoshi Kurosawa won the Silver Lion award for best director award at the Venice International Film Festival for Wife of a Spy, starring Yu Aoi, which was Kurosawa’s first historical drama. It was an extraordinary feat as it was the first time in 17 years for a Japanese director to win the award. What did he want to get across by portraying a couple doing their best to survive a turbulent time before the outbreak of an unprecedented war?

Vol.6 Artist Chiharu Shiota: Pondering the soul, memories, and mortality

In 2019, Chiharu Shiota, an artist, held her largest-ever solo exhibition Chiharu Shiota: The Soul Trembles, at the Mori Art Museum, which looks back her career that spans a quarter century. The cancer she previously had returned in 2017, and she worked on this exhibition while receiving treatment. As we face unprecedented crisis due to the pandemic and feel closer to the notion of life and death, we asked Shiota about her thoughts on artistic expressions and how she copes with matters around her body and soul.

Vol.7 BABYMETAL explores the new frontier

BABYMETAL celebrated their 10th anniversary last year, but their tour in Asia was canceled due to the pandemic. They had to scale back their live performances, which led them to reflect on their past activities. In the midst of that, they made their first appearance on Kohaku Uta Gassen, NHK’s annual New Year’s Eve television special in 2020. The following year, they performed 10 concerts at Nippon Buddokan. With the band back in motion, what’s been on BABYMETAL’s mind these days?

Vol.8 Night Tempo unravels the appeal towards retro culture in this fast-paced society

Night Tempo, a DJ/producer, has been in the limelight for his exquisitely reimagined city pop and kayōkyoku tracks featuring the “Showa groove.” Since the pandemic, he has been actively creating a “place” for online culture aficionados by offering talk shows on his YouTube channel from his home in Seoul. What kind of potential do Showa kayōkyoku and the likes have for Night Tempo, who has been breathing new life into the retro culture?

Translation Fumiko.M

The post Tune into “The Sound of Now” 「時音」 : Discover Ideas to Improve Your Life and Be Inspired. A Compilation of This Year’s 「時音」Series -Part 1- appeared first on TOKION - Cutting edge culture and fashion information.

This time, we interviewed Hisashi Eguchi. Eguchi is known chiefly as a manga artist and remarkably known as an illustrator who draws female characters or what he calls “Kanojo (She).”
For those who recognize him as a manga artist, you would probably know that he is a top-class procrastinator in Japan who has an infamous record of pausing many of his serialized works. Stop!! Hibari-kun!, one of his notable manga works serialized in Weekly Shonen Jump and adapted into a TV anime show, was one of his works that had gone on hiatus multiple times. The hit manga is a miracle that managed to finish the story after a long break of 27 years.

Outstanding illustrations. Witty humor. Unpredictable, thrill-inducing twists and story settings. The uncertainty of whether the next episode would come out next week. And the miracle of the final episode that may not come out but maybe yet to come. Hisashi Eguchi’s rom-com and jokes are so addictive that you will never get over it once you are into it. His works are complexly alluring. Eguchi is, in fact, not a sloth that is utterly careless about procrastinating or pausing his works. On the contrary, he is brimming with energy and avidly looking for quirky, weird ideas to amuse the readers. We visited his atelier in Tokyo to talk to and hear the thoughts of this enigmatic genius.

The illustration and tweet Hisashi Eguchi posted on his Twitter during the pandemic

“Couple years later. A decade later. I wonder what you would remember from the year 2020.”

Left with those words, she looks up at the fine snow that has just begun falling. She has a wine bottle in her hand. Maybe she is going to relish it later. Or perhaps it is a gift to someone. If it is a gift, I wonder who will be receiving it. The illustration provokes my imagination. Moreover, her white breath melting into the winter night sky and the white mask on her chin left a strong imprint on me.

From what I’ve noticed from my perspective, Hisashi Eguchi usually does not portray any details representing specific times or epidemics in his illustrations. Hence, women in his works are ever beautiful and captivating, and they never appear archaic. However, in this illustration, he deliberately (or not) drew a white mask on the girl. When I saw this, I sensed that there was some kind of a strong message that he desperately wanted to convey, even if that deviated from his usual style. This illustration can also be found on P.163 of his recently published illustration book, Kanojo.

She, a beauty, is looking up at the snow that has just begun to fall
The truth behind the white mask on her chin

――I wanted to ask you this first—why did you choose that illustration for the tweet on December 14th, 2020?

Hisashi Eguchi (from hereunder, Eguchi): No, it’s not like that. I didn’t pick the illustration for the tweet. It’s the opposite. I came up with the tweet that goes with the illustration.

――I don’t think I’d ever seen you tweet an illustration paired with a caption.

Eguchi: Well, it’s been an insane year. Value and lifestyle have changed entirely, and every day was bleak; however, the view of snow falling from the sky was still beautiful. When I uploaded that picture, it created a ripple effect, and I received many comments saying, “I love this” or “This made me teary-eyed,” yet there were also comments like, “mask-under-chin is no good.” Receiving the latter comment reminded me how it’s become a world where people can easily wield justice at you. But, that girl in the illustration, it’s not like she always has her mask under her chin. Instead, it’s a picture of a girl in a quiet, empty city, seeing fine powdery snow falling from the sky, pulling her mask down for a moment, and breathing deep and being like, “How beautiful,” despite the current circumstances of the world. I wanted to share that sentiment with people. You get it, right? That kind of brief emotion.

――Also, regarding the girls you draw—take, for instance, the ones in your collection books like KING OF POP and RECORD—they don’t seem to reflect the times or trends of the times. In movies, if a mobile phone or a character wearing a shoulder-padded jacket appears on the screen, you can inevitably tell when the film is from, but age and time don’t show in the girls you draw. Again, though, for this illustration, I thought the mask on the girl would be the decisive factor that specifies the current time.

Eguchi: That’s right. At that time, I had decided to draw the mask on the girl. In this uncertain world, I thought I had to draw a girl with a mask. I want to note that in the cap (tweet,) I wrote, “a decade later” and not “decades later.” If you say, “decades later,” it sounds like the girl will be a grandmother when she reminisces the moment. I wanted the girl to stay the way she is when she looks back at this moment—so I can say that this illustration is specific to the time of the coronavirus.

――I thought so. Nothing like that picture embraces us while reminding us that the time is real without being political. Personally, it captured my heart the way it did when I finally got to read the final episode of Stop!! Hibari-kun!, which came out after years of hiatus.

Eguchi: I’m sure in this time of Covid, everyone is going through each of their things.

――I agree. Now, please allow me to ask you some questions about your other characters. In Stop!! Hibari-kun!, including Hibari-kun, Tsubame, and Suzume, the characters’ outfits change constantly. However, in mangas of other writers, the clothes of the heroines (for example, Shizuka from Doraemon, Sally from Sally the Witch, Arale from Dr. Slump) don’t change so that these characters would be identifiable. So, how much of the trend of the time is reflected in Stop!! Hibari-kun!? Like with your illustration works, were you cautious when portraying things that may mirror a specific time and trend, such as the characters’ hairstyles, accessories, and mobile phones? And were you carefully choosing what to draw and what not to draw?

Eguchi: I do draw characteristics and fashion of the time, but nothing so dramatic, like shoulder-padded jackets and stuff like that. Even to this day, I try to draw only the basic items. By the way, I think the fashion trend is pretty much about sizing. Old clothes could look fresh and modern if you alter the size. Once, I was commissioned to draw an office lady for a business magazine cover and drew her wearing a shoulder-padded jacket, which was in at that time. Other than that, I’ve never deliberately drawn characters in that type of clothes.

――Actually, I think there’s one thing that isn’t quite contemporary— we never see thongs in the up-skirt, panty-shot scenes in Stop!! Hibari-kun! Nowadays, thongs are more common and becoming standard underwear.

Eguchi: Ah [laughs]. I’ve never cared much about underwear. Though, I’m aware that there’s a long story behind the evolution of underwear in the world of manga. I’ve never paid attention to underwear, but I was amazed by how Tatsuo Kanai (creator of Hole in One published in Weekly Shonen Jump) and Masakatsu Katsura (creator of Wing Man published in Weekly Shonen Jump) were very particular about it. Out of the many, I think Tsubame Kamogawa (creator of Macaroni Horen-Sou published in Weekly Shonen Champion) was the first person to draw a particular pair of underwear. I was shocked when I first saw his character wearing a patch of cloth as underwear.

――Hearing your stories, it seems like you’re enjoying your works as well as the works of other writers.

Eguchi: Before, I had never really put my emotions into drawings. I’d thought that I should always draw with an editor’s perspective for my illustrations and manga. I was putting different references or arrangements together and created things by sampling them together. But, quite recently, I’ve started putting my emotions into my drawings. I try to capture fashion, details, and intangible things like feelings, thoughts, and smell wafting in the air. I think that’s been a change in me.
So, I think that’s why I drew the illustration of the girl with the mask. I’ve never drawn anything like that in the past—An image with my feelings infused in it. Honestly, I’ve always loved the art of embedding emotions in drawings, but I used to get shy doing so and cover it up with a joke. But that’s changing now.

――I see. In Stop!! Hibari-kun!, in the middle of some cool profound moments, the characters randomly get undressed. So, from those scenes, I was surmising that you are a bold type, not hesitant to make the characters take their clothes off; therefore, I thought you were the total opposite of a shy person.

Eguchi: I had been able to do those things because my feelings weren’t there in the drawings. I was deciding, like, “I should make it this way to make the story more entertaining.” I was always choosing the most effective ways to surprise the readers.

――So that’s what you mean by “a perspective of an editor.”

Eguchi: That’s right.

――And does this lead to becoming the editor-in-chief of COMIC CUE, which you started in 1995?

Eguchi: I started COMIC CUE as if I were creating my best music playlist. I wanted to make a book gathering all my favorite manga artists into one. However, I wasn’t qualified to do such thing. I resigned after Vol.3 because, you know, I started getting jealous of other writers as I was a writer myself [laughs]. Also, I hated making phone calls to writers, reminding them of the deadline, since I knew how they would feel, which was my weak point. And because of that, one of the writers missed the deadline, and that incident struck me hard and made me realize, “I can’t believe I’ve been doing the same thing to the editors.” I had learned that I’m not cut out to be an editor.

――In the past, you’ve mentioned that after Eiji and around Paparinko Monogatari, you started drawing nostrils on characters. For the girls in Kanojo as well, all the girls you draw are cute. Anyway, in that same interview, I was awed by the part where you explained that Katsuhiro Otomo‘s girls started to look cute after he began drawing nostrils on them. But it was unfair for you, as your girls had to look cute from the very beginning.
I think it’s hilarious how you poke fun of Mr.Ohtomo and Seizo Watase and other eminent manga artists: For example, you jokingly make fun of Fujiko Fujio, Yasuyuki Kunitomo, Sensha Yoshida, Kazuo Umezu, Hideo Azuma, and Koji Aihara, in Okuradashi Yoruyou Super, and Masami Kurumada and Ryoichi Ikegami in Stop!! Hibari-kun! What kind of relationships do you have with these artists? Or your relationships with them don’t matter, and making fun of them is what a bona fide comedy manga artist does.

Eguchi: I admire all the artists mentioned. I don’t know them all, but I tend to pick on the things that I find interesting or funny and brings me love and a smile to my face.
I love Seizo Watase, but I was picking on him as I think it’s my job as a comedy manga artist to react like a straight man and say, “No way!” to the surreal worlds he creates [laughs]. I’m also a massive fan of Ikki Kajiwara and his works, but I made fun of him a lot in Susume!! Pilates. But to be clear, I tease them only because I admire them. And I believe Mr.Kajiwara knew that.

――Nowadays, most of the things we see happening are planned or scripted. But the way you pick on other writers is deviating from that modern tendency; it seems like you’ve been making jokes about them freely without considering the repercussions.

Eguchi: Ultimately, I see things from a reader’s perspective. I ‘m honest about what I think as a reader. So that is why I point out odd parts I find in other mangas. It’s okay if people make fun of me for missing deadlines; in fact, I should accept people making jokes about me, too.

――Have you been picked on before by other writers?

Eguchi: Yes, I think many times. For example, when I was mainly writing comedy mangas in the early days, Yude-chan (=Yudetamago: Creator of Kinnikuman (Muscle Man) published in Weekly Shonen Jump) was always picking on me. It’s because he saw me making fun of my mentor Hiroshi Motomiya, even though I was a novice at that time—I was a bad example to him [laughs].

――Now back to your illustrations. You draw cute girls standing in the middle of a city or natural scenery. Through the process of drawing girls, have you ever become interested in cameras and photography? As I believe there’s a connection between the act of drawing and the act of taking pictures.

Eguchi: I always take pictures before drawing. So, when I was young, I used to buy SLR film cameras. But the thing is that I can recreate the images in my head well by drawing, but not by photography. So, I’ve realized that I’m intrinsically better at drawing than photography.

――Would you say there are characteristics that only you see in the timelessly cute, beautiful girls you draw in Kanojo?

Eguchi: Likewise, with the view of a city, beauty is something that vanishes eventually. So, I guess, I want to capture gleaming moments of youth as they ultimately disappear. That’s it.

――You admit that you are a desperate man who has a strong will to draw more cute moments. I read an article where you spoke about your underlying desire and revealed, “I wanted to be born a girl!” So, if you were born a girl, what kind of girl would you be? If you were a girl character in your work, would you be the type who wears a short skirt and does not mind any panty shots or cleavage shots?

Eguchi: Yes, that might be it [laughs]. I wanted to be born a cute girl and be a manga artist. And be unnecessarily sexy and cutesy at meetings with editors [laughs].

―― “Burriko (girls who act cute)” is a word you coined in your manga. By the way, I’ve noticed that the girls you draw don’t have, what people generally call, a body of a model.

Eguchi: It’s the same with fashion. I prefer drawing ordinary girls you normally see out there wearing casual clothes, and not like those high-fashion models.

Thoughts, not as an illustrator, but as a manga artist leaving a mark in history

――You’ve written copious comedy mangas, left some unfinished titles, documented invincible cuteness of girls like what we see in Kanojo, and experienced being an editor-in-chief. Is there any chance that you might start an illustration series with your will? Are there any works you’d like to leave as a legacy?

Eguchi: When I was young, I didn’t think I’d still be drawing girls at this age. I thought that I would still be writing a comedy manga. Even to this day, I want to continue writing manga, and that’s why I can’t cross out my title as a manga artist on my profile. It’s just that writing manga is tough…. The assistants would draw the background sceneries, but instructing them like, “Do this here. Do that there” makes me uncomfortable, so I prefer working on my own. But it’s also really hard to do these things alone.

――When I read your past interview and conversation articles, a lot of your words resonated with me. For example, you were saying things like, “Deadlines themselves aren’t painful, the fact that there are deadlines is painful,” and “But, because I want to draw pictures that look right, a period of one week is never enough.” And I respect how you honestly tell people when you can’t get your work done on deadline, although it’s something you want to avoid.

Eguchi: Before, I wanted to make the illustrations of my manga look the same as my illustration art. But I’ve realized that it would be hard to follow the story if I made all the drawings in manga the same as my illustration art. The illustrations in manga can’t be eye-catching and hamper the storytelling. With manga, the readers need to keep moving their eyes to understand the story. So again, the drawings in manga need to be different from illustration artworks. And manga has its own power. So, I now know that I don’t need to make the drawings in manga look like illustration art; I feel like I might be able to start writing manga again.

――In “The SEX And The CITY” in Okuradashi Yoruyo Super, there are no speech bubbles at all, and no characters like the girls in Kanojo, and the stupidity of the jokes crack me up. I would love to read that type of poignant comedy manga again.

Eguchi: I love stupid mangas in general. There aren’t that many comedy mangas these days, but I would love to read some. Frivolous things are great. Manga by Tatsuhiko Yamagami (creator of Gaki Deka published in Weekly Shonan champion) and Fujio Akatsuka made me laugh, which saved me a lot, and I was aiming to create comedy manga like theirs. It just feels great to laugh.

――Your manga, like the aforementioned “SEX And The CITY” saved me, too. It’s incredibly perverted and obscene, but it’s funny and warms my heart.

Eguchi: I would love to portray the stupidity of humans again.

――By the way, I feel like some phrases and expressions in Stop!! Hibari-kun! wouldn’t be acceptable these days.

Eguchi: It’s full of controversial remarks. A lot of them are not acceptable anymore. I wasn’t trying to insult anyone back then, but it would be hard for people to assimilate them as jokes now.

――Now back again to Kanojo. In which season do you like drawing the girls? Also, any specific settings you like drawing?

Eguchi: When I was young, I definitely loved summer the most. I loved the summer island beach. But nowadays, I really like the transition from autumn to winter. Maybe it’s because of my age. Instead of the freedom of summer, I’d rather prefer drawing sentiments like the comfort of wrapping a scarf around your neck as the cold winter approaches. Actually, I recently drew a summer island and a beach for the first time in a while, for the collaboration project with Eiichi Ohtaki, for his album A LONG VACATION 40th Anniversary Edition. I recreated the summer scenery I’ve always had in my head since the time I was listening to the original version of the album: A small island in Okinawa, a narrow white road, and a vast coral reef beach beyond the road.

――What about the summer in the cover art of Takuro Yoshida’s Isshun No Natsu?

Eguchi: For that, I wanted to draw the signage of Hyakkaen. Beyond Hyakkaaen, there’s a sky and clouds, which exude a mature emotional vibe. It’s like nostalgia in the middle of an urban city. I’m glad I drew the signage as it doesn’t exist there anymore.

――Hearing your stories makes me want to look at your works once again to see the sonic afterimages, or in other words, the nostalgic views that you convey inspired by the music.

Eguchi: I think I’ll be drawing more things like that. I feel so myself.

――Such things as the imagined and real sceneries in Japan that are bound to fade away?

Eguchi: Well, now, I’m pretty busy drawing illustrations of girls. Naturally, though, I will draw different types of things if I get various kinds of requests. But, of course, I always try to be careful not to plagiarize from myself.

――So now you’re mostly getting illustration job offers? Are you busy for a while?

Eguchi: Yes. Now it’s 100% illustration jobs. I’m not getting any manga job offers [laughs]. If I wanted to work on a manga, I would have to do it by myself and take it to the publisher and ask them to publish it.

A B4 size paper lying on a table. Manga artist Hisashi Eguchi has always drawn illustrations with panel layouts on a big sheet of paper, an A3 size. Ever since he expanded his career as an illustrator, his artworks have become ubiquitous, which probably almost every nation has seen at some point. The largest illustration he’s ever drawn out of his career was a 180cm x 180cm size live painting. This time, interviewing the artist had driven me to imagine what kind of mural this artist—who preciously captures the smell of the city and seasons and girls in cities—would paint if he were to paint on an enormous wall in town. The curiosity sparked in me as I caught the pure mind of the prolific manga artist and illustrator, intrinsically seeking to document funny and beautiful things without being swayed by age or career. If this man did sessions with younger talents, there would be great legacies left in Japan. In Tokyo—I was convinced.

“Couple years later. A decade later. I wonder what you would remember from the year 2020.”
We can’t predict the future and where this pandemic is going, but I can say that mesmerizing creations will never be affected by the virus but remain quietly yet powerful in our world. After this interview, I perceived the smell of emotions and times that Eguchi was talking about, from the girl facing sideways, pulling her mask down to her chin, and taking a deep breath for a moment.

Hisashi Eguchi
Born in 1956. He is a manga artist and illustrator from Kumamoto-prefecture. In 1977, he won the Weekly Shonen Jump Newcomers Manga Award for Osorubeki Kodomotachi. He debuted as a professional manga artist with Hachi-jihan no Ketto, his work nominated at the 6th Akatsuka Award. His best-known works include, Susume!! Pilates and Stop!! Hibari-kun! He won the 38th Bungeishunju Manga Award for Hisashi Eguchi’s Dynamite Dinner Show, a collection of short stories published in 1991. He founded and became editor-in-chief of COMIC CUE in 1995, gathering illustrious manga writers such as Taiyo Matsumoto and Minetaro Mochizuki, and experienced the role of “forcing deadlines to writers,” which is the opposite of his usual position of “being forced to follow deadlines.” He is a phenomenal manga artist well-known for his original sense of humor, remarkable drawing skills, and pausing many of his serialized works. He is also a sought-after illustrator who has accomplished corporate tie-up projects and one-and-only record cover arts.
After publishing the collection book, KING OF POP (published by Genkosha) in 2015, he opened the illustration exhibition KING OF POP at eight different locations in Japan. From 2018 to 2019, his illustration exhibition, Kanojo, was held at three art museums in Japan, first opening at the 21st Century Museum of Contemporary Art, Kanazawa. However, the exhibition was suspended due to the coronavirus pandemic. However, in 2021, after releasing the collection book Kanojo, the exhibition reopened in Aomori-city and Asahikawa-city, where the artist performed live painting for the first time on a large canvas and attracted many fans and earned great responses. As written on the book band of his latest collection book, Kanojo, he is a highly lauded artist who draws illustrations of Kanojo (“She”) that no one in the world can ever draw.
Twitter：@Eguchinn
Instagram：@egutihisasi / @eguchiworks

■Kanojo (2021)
Author: Hisashi Eguchi
Publisher: Shueisha International

Photography Takeshi Abe
Translation Ai Kaneda

The post 「時音」Vol.16 Why Hisashi Eguchi Chooses to be Both an Illustrator and a Manga Artist appeared first on TOKION - Cutting edge culture and fashion information.

This time, we sat in conversation with artist Tadanori Yokoo. He started doing graphic design and illustration in the early 60s; he’s been working as an artist for over 50 years. In Japan during the 60s, many artists created conceptual art. Yokoo’s understanding of color and intricate compositions were unheard of in his time, and his artworks stunned the world. Struck by a retrospective show of Picasso’s work at the MoMA, he stepped down from the world of commercial design in 1981. It’s well-known that Yokoo made a “painter’s declaration” and has since channeled all of his energy into painting. 

In more recent news, his largest exhibition to date, GENKYO YOKOO TADANORI, is being held at the Museum of Contemporary Art Tokyo. It did its rounds in Aichi Prefectural Museum of Art, but Yokoo has replaced over half of the art pieces, spanning from works he made in his childhood to ones he drew three weeks before the opening date. The total number of artworks on display is a dizzying 603. The Artists is a series of 139 portraits of artists, philosophers, scientists, and such commissioned by the Cartier Foundation for Contemporary Art, and this is also being shown concurrently with GENKYO YOKOO TADANORI. Yokoo uses the canvas as an experimental playground to communicate the unique qualities and quirks of the characters. Furthermore, Yokoo Tadanori’s Haunted Museum, an exhibition that explores the relationship between art and fear via Yokoo’s artworks, is ongoing at the Yokoo Tadanori Museum of Contemporary Art. 

Yokoo’s creations—stemmed from not having various styles, not overthinking, ridding superficial desires, and letting his intuition guide the work—continue to influence people all over the globe. We asked the artist to reflect on his career thus far. 

“My art is a rejection of meaning… so I didn’t care what the subject was” 

——The theme of GENKYO YOKOO TADANORI is autobiographical. Why did you decide to hold the most extensive exhibition, a culmination of your work, you’ve ever had? 

Tadanori Yokoo (Yokoo): It was very autobiographical when I held this at the Aichi Prefectural Museum of Art. However, at MOT (Museum of Contemporary Art Tokyo), I got rid of any autobiographical qualities. I felt like it was impossible to think of a theme because the theme in my work isn’t that important. It’s about how to draw, not what to draw. Moreover, it was necessary to show how I could make the art come alive. Because my artworks at MOT are in chronological order, I was able to convey the change in my style. 

——In regards to your paintings and books, I feel like you could interpret the word genkyo as the origin of your images (原郷, read as genkyo), a phantasmagoric, original, and unexpected imagination (幻境, also read as genkyo), and the present state of your artworks when you exhibit them (現況, also read as genkyo). Why did you choose this title?

Yokoo: For me, 原郷 (genkyo) means the origin of my inspiration. I do not need to assert the meaning of 幻境 (genkyo), as it makes you associate it with a negative place and synonym. I should’ve gotten rid of 幻境 from the title. When you line the three words up, it’ll create meaning, as you said. My art is a rejection of meaning. By attaching meaning to it, it becomes ideated.

——I felt like the scale, the volume of the art pieces, and the level of polish were impressive when I saw your exhibition. In a sense, it was an experience that required no language.  

Yokoo: It’s just like you said. I wanted to break free from the chains of language, so this exhibition has no particular meaning. If anything, I had to prioritize the expression (style) of the paintings rather than the subject. So I didn’t care what the subject was.

——You published Sosaku No Hiho Nikki as the sequel to The Thousand and One Nights Diary, which you published in 2016. You’ve written in your diary for over 50 years, but do you ever look back on those entries?

Yokoo: I’ve written in my diary since 1970; I write simple notes and purge my thoughts each day. I don’t re-read them. I only do when I proofread them. 

——In your diary, you often write about things like a bookstore and a Chinese restaurant in Seijo. You have your studio there too. What kind of place is Seijo for you? 

Yokoo: Seijo is the countryside of Tokyo and isn’t affected by the city. Like a crocodile with its eyes above the water, I observe the streets. It’s as though I’m a retired person [with time on his hands]. Also, I dislike moving my body and doing things that are a hassle. 

“It’s easier to live according to one’s desire, not society’s”

——You’ve been writing in your dream journal since your 20s. I assume it plays an integral role in your work.

Yokoo: Dreams are another version of daily life; the everyday life at nighttime. It’s another reality separated from reality. If anything, everyday life is false, and dreams are real. That’s why dreams don’t lie. Daytime has more lies.  

——Did you have any memorable dreams lately?

Yokoo: A dream I just had last week was like the celestial version of Dante’s Divine Comedy. My whole body was sucked into an unbelievably large crowd of angels from the other side of the universe. The angels were bigger than me and very sensual. Then, I changed from a corporeal being to a spirit. I had never seen such a memorable dream before. It happened just recently. 

——I feel like that has something to do with the idea of Zen. Why did you study that?

Yokoo: When I went to New York in 1967, an American intellectual asked me many questions about Zen because he was interested in it. I had zero knowledge about it. So, when I returned to Japan, I visited Zen meditation halls in different denominations for a year. That was the beginning. I haven’t read a single book about Zen. Everything is about experiencing things with your body. Rather than religion, I feel like I studied mysticism, science, and something I needn’t pursue any further, in the sense that I detached myself from desires and obsessions and gazed at my true self. Perhaps it’s more accurate to call it philosophy. 

——You use a lot of motifs that are divorced from reality and can’t be logically understood, such as Mysterious Genealogy. Do these things appear to you intuitively?

Yokoo: As long as humans are more spiritual than corporeal or mental, all answers are within you. I feel like whatever you have inside will change to something illogical once it’s outside. 

——It’s the norm for contemporary artists to solidify their style to raise their marketplace value. Why don’t you have a particular style of your own?

Yokoo: You don’t need a style to be free from ideas. Art should always be free from the result and goal. Meaning, having a style restricts you from fun and pleasure. It’s easier to live according to one’s desire, not society’s. Many artists abide by social desires. To me, that is like living a restrained life. 

——It’s been about a year and a half since you posted WITH CORONA on your Twitter and blog. You’ve posted over 700 pieces thus far. Why did you want to start WITH CORONA?

Yokoo: Showing art at museums and galleries was banned because of the covid crisis, so I chose mass media, which continues to multiply. It was one way for my spirit to find refuge.

——What kind of world do you envision after the pandemic?

Yokoo: I don’t know. I don’t think about the future. I can’t picture the future, even if it’s a minute away. The future should be kept as something to have fun with, so it’s not the object of my imagination. “Be here now.” Right now is everything. Setting covid to the side, I don’t believe I’ll become who I think I’ll become. I don’t try to be either. 

Tadanori Yokoo
Born in Hyogo prefecture. Tadanori Yokoo was a graphic designer starting from the 60s, but in 1981, he made a “painter’s declaration” and switched to painting. Since then, he has created various works as an artist. In 2012, the Yokoo Tadanori Museum of Contemporary Art (Kobe), where roughly 3,000 art pieces are collected, opened. In the recent past, he’s had solo exhibitions at the Hara Museum (2001),The Museum of Contemporary Art Tokyo (2002), The National Museum of Modern Art, Kyoto (2003), and so on. In August 2020, he held Hyogo Prefectural Yokoo Emergency Hospital at the Yokoo Tadanori Museum of Contemporary Art. In July of 2021, GENKYO YOKOO TADANORI opened at the Museum of Contemporary Art Tokyo, and Yokoo Tadanori: The Artists opened at 21_21 DESIGN SIGHT GALLERY 3. The Yokoo Tadanori Museum of Contemporary Art will be showing Yokoo Tadanori’s Haunted Museum until February 2022. 

■GENKYO YOKOO TADANORI  
Exhibition period: Until October 17th *The exhibition is scheduled to be shown at Ōita Prefectural Art Museum from December 4th, 2021, to January 23rd, 2022
Venue: Museum of Contemporary Art Tokyo
Address: Miyoshi, Kotoku, Tokyo, 4-1-1
Opening hours: 10 am to 6 pm (Tickets available until 30 minutes before closing)
Closed: Mondays
Admission fee: Adults: 2,000 yen, university/college students and over 65: 1,300 yen, high school/junior high school students: 800 yen, elementary school students and younger: free
Website: https://genkyo-tadanoriyokoo.exhibit.jp/

■Tadanori Yokoo: The Artists
Exhibition period: Until October 17th
Venue: 21_21 DESIGN SIGHT Gallery 3
Address: Akasaka, Minatoku, Tokyo 9-7-6
Opening hours: Weekdays: 11 am to 5 pm, weekends and holidays: 11 am to 6 pm *subject to change
Closed: Tuesdays
Admission fee: Free
Website: http://www.2121designsight.jp/

■Yokoo Tadanori’s Haunted Museum
Exhibition period: February 27th, 2022
Venue: Yokoo Tadanori Museum of Contemporary Art
Address: Haradadōri, Nadaku, Kobe, Hyogo 3-8-30
Opening hours: 10 am to 6 pm (last entry: 5:30 pm)
Closed: Mondays
*If a national holiday is on a Monday, the exhibition will be open, and it’ll be closed the following day
*Closed during New Year (December 31st to January 1st)
Admission fee: Adults: 700 yen (550 yen), university students: 550 yen (400 yen), 70 and over: 350 yen (250 yen), high school students and younger: free
*Reserved tickets are prioritized. Please go to the Yokoo Tadanori Museum of Contemporary Art website for more information.
*Groups of over 20 people will have a discount of ( ).
*Those with disabilities will have a 75% discount for every exhibition (doesn’t apply to those over 70); one caregiver will be admitted for free
*Those who wish to get the discount must present documentation of proof and buy the tickets at the door (disabled people could also use Mirairo ID, a passbook for disabled people)
Website: https://ytmoca.jp/

Translation Lena Grace Suda

The post 「時音」Vol.15 “Be here now”—Artist Tadanori Yokoo meditates on his creative career appeared first on TOKION - Cutting edge culture and fashion information.

This time, we spoke to Ryo Asai, the author of Seiyoku, which was published this March to commemorate the tenth anniversary of his career as a writer. In Seiyoku, four characters take turns narrating the story based on themes of sexuality; it explores the relationship between the self and the world in a multilayered manner. Asai himself has described it as “A significant turning point for myself both as a novelist and a human being.” This book is bound to make waves.   

In his 2009 debut novel, Kirishima, Bukatsu Yamerutteyo, Asai reveals the social hierarchy of school through the disappearance of its protagonist, and he illustrates the shift in how people communicate on social media via job hunting in Nanimono, which won the Naoki Prize in 2013. In Seiyoku, set in the transition period between the Heisei era to the Reiwa era, Asai addresses the reader to join hands to survive. As someone who has continuously depicted the zeitgeist and people’s innermost feelings in his writing, how does he view his doubts towards society? We asked him to look back on his career and talk about his outlook and story writing process.   

Feeling alive because of the fervor generated by friction   

——I’d first like to ask you about Seiyoku. I read in another interview that you came up with the title before the story. Could you talk about why you chose this title as well as its theme?   

Ryo Asai (Asai): I wrote a novel, Shinigai wo Motomete Ikiteiru no, which influenced me when I wrote Seiyoku. It’s going to be somewhat lengthy, but allow me to talk about that first. I wrote Shinigai as a part of the Rasen Project in 2019, which involved eight groups composed of nine writers to write a full-length novel about the theme of confrontation, set in an era chosen for us. I was in charge of the Heisei era. When I was initially working out the plot, I couldn’t think of a symbol of confrontation during Heisei. If anything, I thought Heisei was about intentionally getting rid of conflict and growing up peacefully. [People were] like, “Everybody’s different, and everybody’s valid,” and “It’s the era of individuality.” But I felt we could understand individuality through differences between ourselves and others. Human beings [are creatures that] desire some role even if they get told to live their life freely. Of course, in many ways, it becomes easier to live when you get rid of confrontation. But when friction caused by that disappears, perhaps it becomes harder to sense one’s boundaries and the feeling of being alive.   

——Do you mean the loss of conflict equates to the loss of feeling alive?   

Asai: In my case, whenever an interviewer asks me something like, “What sort of motivation do you have when you write?” it sounds like they’re saying, “What sort of friction do you want to create between yourself and this world or society by writing a novel?” It’s like, “Would you still write even if you knew you’d generate no friction in others or society?” You could replace the word friction with influence or reverberation. This belief is deeply rooted in me: because of friction, fervor is born, and that fervor makes us feel alive. And it makes us feel like we have a role and meaning in life. If said friction embodies amicable relationships with others and society, then it’s not a problem. But I often wonder if I’d try to go out of my way to cause friction, even if that negatively influences others and society.   

It’s hard to bring this up, but I also often recall the incident where the author of the manga series Kuroko’s Basketball was being threatened. At first, the perpetrator’s testimony centered on how he was jealous of successful manga authors as an aspiring manga author himself. But ultimately, he manufactured the motive in his mind: “[I’m an] aspiring manga author who’s jealous of successful people.” His tone then changed to something like, “I wanted to feel connected to society and other people by attacking someone.” Confrontation, friction, the connection between society and others, the feeling of being alive—although these things are distant from one another, I believe they belong to the same sequence.   

——The absence of friction isn’t peaceful, as it means to stand on the brink of life and death. Perhaps that explains why we constantly covet it.  

Asai: With Shinigai, I ultimately arrived at this exit: when all friction is gone, how can we feel alive without hurting other people or society? I felt like I was going to explore the same theme from another angle, eventually. In Seiyoku, the subject from the start is what factor would urge us to choose life from death. It’s about what could give us the drive to live.  

When I read interviews of people who have achieved something, there’s a high probability for me to come across phrases like “I try my hardest for my family and kids” or “I try my hardest because of my family and kids.” I also see sentences like, “I started thinking about the next generation because of the birth of my kid.” Every time I do, it makes me acutely aware of the difficulty of using my physical body alone as fuel for vitality. At the same time, the fastest route to acquiring said fuel outside of one’s body is the family system. You need to have a sexual desire and orientation that fits the category of “being romantically and sexually attracted to the ‘opposite gender’” if you want to include yourself in a nuclear family. But you can’t pick your sexual desire and orientation. It’s possible for the things you can’t choose to become the source of your drive for life. The things I want to write about are narrowing down now: the relationship between sexuality and society, the relationship between life, death, and society, which inevitably changes because of one’s sexual orientation.  

When I was a kid, I read a book about all the weird criminal cases in the world, and there was a person who committed a crime because of a particular sexual desire, which I also wrote about in my latest novel. It concluded that there are comical testimonies out there. But ever since I read that, I’ve always questioned whether it was okay for us to shrug our shoulders and say, “This person’s testimony is amusing.” Somewhere in the back of my head, I’ve always wondered what it must be like to live with that type of sexual desire. Seiyoku is a mass of different things from those long years of my life.   Regarding the title, each person has a different sexuality, to the point that it might be pointless to attach labels because it’s a spectrum. And yet, when it comes to sexual desire, everybody has a part of them that feels guilty. That it’s a wrong desire to have, even though it could instigate a relationship with society. That’s where I got the idea to combine 性欲 (read as seiyoku, meaning sexual desire), a secretive sound, and the character for 正 (read as shou and sei, meaning correct, true, or exact), which has an open image. As I started writing the novel, it developed other meanings, and as a result, it became a very reliable title.  

Entering new territory by accepting the state of not knowing 

——The word diversity comes up in Seiyoku regularly. This line in the beginning, “I feel like one of the things diversity has birthed is simple-mindedness” is very impactful.  

Asai: I’ve always had a problem with how people use the term diversity, not with the word itself. For example, I saw “The era of LGBT” on one dust jacket and “A symbol of the era of diversity” on another. It made me go, “No, it’s not like we’re in the era of LGBTQIA+, because they’ve always been here,” and “The era of diversity? People of all kinds have always been alive.” All of us exist within diversity in the first place. Diversity, meaning a state where there’s a lot of variety, exists first and foremost, and we’re just one small part of the many varieties. So, when I encounter a manner of speaking that acts like they’re the ones that discovered and recognized diversity, it makes me feel like they’re simple-minded. From what angle can one claim they understand and accept diversity? Is it even an option to reject diversity, to begin with, even if you’re a part of it?   

The “LBGT goes against the preservation of the species” comment regarding the Equality Act became a much-discussed topic a while back. That person felt like they were on the knowledgeable side. They probably meant that gay people can’t have offspring when they said it. But not every aspect of society in which straight people have offspring is in the hands of straight people. We interact with each other in a complex way in this world. You can’t blame a group of people of a given background as those who go “against the preservation of the species.” Recently, I strongly sense the importance of being aware of ignorance and the inability to understand and imagine.   

When I write and read novels, it feels like we’re living inside so many things we can’t imagine, let alone comprehend. I get how not understanding makes you feel anxious and that it’s tough to accept that. 

I, too, am prone to want to be on the side that comprehends things because I want to escape the anxiety of not knowing. I write my novels by building the plot first, and that also derives from fear. As of late, I find myself wanting to decrease my dislike of not knowing things. My awareness of not knowing served as one of the catalysts for me to write Seiyoku.  

——I thought you were a very deliberate thinker when I read your past interviews.  

Asai: Now, I think the source of my disposition comes from the fact that I thought the correct answer was in society.

I’ve lived my life being extremely worried about what other people thought since I was a kid. I used to believe that there was a fixed, unwavering answer outside of myself and that I had to adjust accordingly. I “tuned” myself so much. Obviously, though, society kept on changing.  

Even as an adult, I was wary of what other people thought, and this feeling like “I need to be seen as a decent human being” and “I must be in the majority” controlled me. 

When I worked at a company, I was caught in a trap because it wasn’t seen as a good thing to have a side job: “I can’t let others think I have another job.” Around eight years have passed since then, and today, having a side job is encouraged. I now finally realize that society fluctuates to a large extent, and I feel less restricted now.   

Until this point, I used to write the world first and then the narrator second in my novels. Many of the story developments involved the narrator being agonized over the discrepancy between the world and themselves. I have an inkling I’m going to start writing in the opposite structure—the narrator comes first, and then the world comes second.   

——I had the strong impression you were a writer who wrote about youth, but as can be seen in Shinigai wo Motomete Ikiteiru no, Doshitemo Ikiteru, and Seiyoku, the theme you write about has shifted to living life. How have your thoughts changed since your debut?   

Asai: I still like novels about youth, and I reckon I’ll write more of them. When I made my debut, I was more desperate for a long time than now. I was like, “I need to be a popular [novelist] and survive.” I looked at things short term like, “If my next book doesn’t sell well, then I’m going to be left behind.” Also, because my debut novel received an entertainment award and my other ones received mainstream awards, I believed I had to write entertaining works that many people could relate to. I’m the type of person who suffers from the rules I make up on my own accord. I [told myself that] I shouldn’t leave the ending up to the reader because they paid for it and that I had to create works, which would let them forget reality and feel good because they paid for it. That troubled me. However, over the past few years, I’ve been able to go, “Anything goes.” So, I’d like to write whatever I please, including fun young adult novels.   

——We see the conflict and questions towards society through your eyes in your novels. How do you search for such things?   

Asai: I think of myself as someone who rewrites universal things that have been talked about to exhaustion in many places, using current words and things. There’s no such thing as a special kind of friction or doubt only I could find. It just so happens my job is to convert those into words.

The power of the novel lies in its ability to build a world that’s two steps ahead 

——It’s now easier to communicate with words thanks to social media and messaging apps like LINE. You’ve also written a novel, Nanimono, where Twitter comes up. However, the tendency for people to attack others because of the normalization of social media stands out as of late. As someone who ruminates on language, what do you think about this phenomenon?   

Asai: Whenever there’s a spotlight on online verbal attacks, you see an increase of discourse along the lines of, “Words can at times become a knife to hurt people. We must consider the way we use them.”   

But verbal attacks are an accumulation of selected words meant to hurt the other person. Those who write verbal attacks know fully well that words could sometimes be a knife. They consciously choose strong words to hurt people. I feel like “thinking about how we use words” doesn’t get to the root of the issue. I want to confront our sadism and desire to hurt others, which we all have deep in our hearts.   

Everyone knows hurting others is wrong or that words could at times hurt like a knife. But the feeling of wanting to hurt someone buds in everyone’s hearts at some point. It’s inevitable for one’s sadism to connect with words in one’s mind. That happens to me often. It’s essential to acknowledge that inner sadism, figure out how to tame it, and not act on it.   

——It’s still scary to recognize our inner sadism.  

Asai: I’m scared too. It makes me feel sick. The “you can’t verbally attack others. You can’t hurt others. Let’s learn how to use words in the age of social media” conversation seems like it’s one step forward. But I reckon it’s just a temporary solution. I think the whole “everyone has the potential to attack others verbally. How do we live with that?” conversation signals two steps forward.  

Pointing to one step ahead shouldn’t be that hard. You can do that with marketing. But showing two steps forward is hard because you bring pain when you reject others’ efforts to move one step forward or propose another path from theirs. But the novel format can do that, which is one of its strengths.   

There’s a law that bans outing someone’s sexual orientation or gender identity to a third party. But rather than striving to create a society where outing isn’t allowed, shouldn’t we aim to create a society where people of any background can live without changing anything and being deprived of things if they were outed? We need to take steps to get there, and it anguishes me to think this, but maybe the first step is to ban outing. What I’m talking about is purely idealistic, though, so it can’t save anyone who’s suffering right at this moment.

A new challenge to write something from a narrow view 

——Every writer has a unique process. How do you write novels? Are you the type of person who comes up with meticulous character settings?  

Asai: To be honest, I don’t know how I write novels. When I do interviews, I usually give a response that would satisfy the interviewer. There’s probably no consistency in my answers.   

I can say that when I write a character, most of the time, I start by writing about those around them. If I were to write a character called A, I start by thinking about a character called B—someone close to them. What sort of person are they, and what sort of reaction do they have? I apologize in advance because I might be saying something completely different tomorrow.  

——Do you craft the story in front of your computer?  

Asai: When I type words on my computer, the story is already complete to a certain degree. I add words that would reproduce that the best. I come up with the story in my everyday life. The thoughts that have piled up in my head start to ferment and smell. And it’s like I turn that stench into a story.   

——It seems like you’ve written a lot of your novels from personal experience. 

Asai: People ask me about this frequently. It makes me feel down; my inept writing skills cause others to wonder whether my stories are from personal experience. I believe there’s no such thing as 100% fiction and 100% nonfiction. Let’s say there’s a line, “Good morning,” in a novel. My imagination wouldn’t have created those words, and that written real-life experience would include false memories. I don’t know if this will make sense but, if I were to write about the life of a woman ringleader of an American circus, people would think I wrote it from my imagination. If I were to write about a Japanese male writer of my age, people would think I wrote it from personal experience. But for me, both are equal strangers.   

——This applies to Seiyoku as well. Many of your novels have multiple characters who narrate the story from their perspective. Do you do that because you don’t want to tell the story from one angle?   

Asai: In terms of Seiyoku, the amount of information that could be withdrawn from one narrator in the first person is too limited. You can widen the scope the most with the third-person narrative.   

I used to get worked up about expanding my horizons as a writer, so I could write a story that would resonate with anyone, anywhere. 

Now, I want to challenge myself to write using each person’s extremely narrow view instead of expanding it. I want to prove that I wrote a story from such a point of view in this era. Even if it’s considered the worst perspective today, I want to leave it behind in history. It’ll be ideal if I could balance that challenge and the readers’ enjoyment.  

Ryo Asai 
Ryo Asai is a novelist born in 1989 in Gifu prefecture. In 2009, he published his first novel, Kirishima, Bukatsu Yamerutteyo, and won the 22nd Shosetsu Subaru New Writers Award. In 2013, he received the 148th Naoki Prize for Nanimono, and in 2014, he received the 29th Joji Tsubota Literature Prize for Sekai Chizu no Shitagaki. Apple selected Asai’s 2019 novel Doshitemo Ikiteru as one of the Best Fiction books on their Best of Books 2019 list. He has published Star and Seiyoku to celebrate the tenth anniversary of his writing career.
Twitter：@asai__ryo

Seiyoku
Author: Ryo Asai 
Price: 1,870 yen 
Publisher: Shinchosha
https://www.shinchosha.co.jp/seiyoku/ 

Photography Yohei Kichiraku
Translation Lena Grace Suda

The post 「時音」Vol.14　Novelist Ryo Asai gazes at a view that’s two steps ahead appeared first on TOKION - Cutting edge culture and fashion information.