Thirty-six Views of Mt. Fuji

I'd like to share some art with you - just to make all of us feel like we are learning something on the computer, which is a good thing, especially when we should all be doing our real work!

Katsushika Hokusai (surname first) (1760-1849) is an ukiyou-e artist famous for his work entitled: Thirty-six Views of Mt. Fuji.


I've never seen Mt. Fuji and don't believe it actually exists - there can't be fog, rain, snow or a Godzilla-sighting to obscure my view of this so-called mountain every time I either pass by it or use high-power binoculars to sight it - can there?   

Regardless, this Hokusai guy believes it exists, and has done some very famous artwork showing his dementia.According to a Japanese fairy tale called The Tale of the Bamboo Cutter, a goddess places the Elixir of Life on the peak of Mt. Fuji. As such, the mountain is seen as a the source of teh secret of immortality.

Ukiyo-e images are created when an image drawn onpaper is used to guide the cutting of a wood block. This block wasthen covered with ink and applied to paper to create the image.For each color, a different wood block is required.

I have scanned in all 36 pieces of art and an additional 10 he did on the subject.

Click HERE to go to my photo gallery for a peek at each one with a short description - complete with old names for the prefectures! By the way, if you click on the thumbnail, it will enlarge, and then you can view it like a slide show or go forward and backward via the arrows on the side of the image.

Enjoy!
Andrew Joseph
PS: Yes, the images are all from my personal collection... of postcards purchased from the Tokyo National Museum, from their collection of Hokusai art. I wish I owned even one original Hokusai ukiyo-e, but truth be told, originals are probably worth the cost of a house in Toronto. That's somewhere in the neighbourhood of 1/2 a million dollars.

People Are Strange

It's Monday, July 29, 1991.

My friend John from Toronto arrived yesterday afternoon in Japan to visit and see the sights. My friend from Binghamton, NY and fellow JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme assistant English teacher Matthew (who also lives in my town) has joined us for a walkabout tour of Tokyo... which is perfect as I have no freaking clue where anything is or how to get there.

Despite having been here in Japan for a year--just like Matthew--I have little to no major understanding of the Japanese language. actually, that's not true. I can understand Japanese like a 10-year-old, but my own speaking ability is akin to a four-year-old. As such, I rely on the kindness of strangers and a lot of help from my friends.

Matthew and I are down in Tokyo to greet the new JET arrivals who arrived in this country yesterday for their first official meet and greet later today. I have been warned to be on my best behaviour, and not try to hit on too many women. This came from one of the Japanese liaisons for the JET Programme. 

How the hell do people know what I do? And besides... I don't actually start the hitting... but I sure as hell know how to move the runner over another base or two. That's a baseball analogy.

We get up early and travel to Asakusa to see the famous temple there--that's the photo above. Then we go to Akihabara--also known as Electric City--to se about getting a digital camera for John. Truth is, while Japan has lots of cutting edge technology available, it's hardly available at a cheap price. 

We then head over to the Tokyo Dome where the Tokyo Giants play baseball. there I purchase a box of the inaugural set of Japanese baseball cards. I love baseball. John was the commissioner of the Cloverdale Men's Softball League back in Toronto... where I was a 3rd baseman on one of the teams just before I left to come here. I could hit a ton and for very high average (over .750), but my defense sucked. While I could knock down or catch anything hit near me, it was my inability to make a proper throw to first base that was my downfall.

We have a pretty good time... but soon we have to head back to the Keo Plaza Hotel across the street from our crappy little hotel so that Matthew and I can get ready for the meet and greet with the newbies. 

We're going to sneak John in. He just has to pretend he's one of the new guys on the Programme. As such... I told him to pretend he was Van Granger, the new AET for Kuroiso-shi. (City of Kuroiso)

At the event, I met a few people - mostly renewers like myself... but there was one unfortunate incident. A very attractive woman came up to me and started talking. Now, to be fair, I was already into my third or fourth beer on very little food.

She asked me how I was doing.

I said "fine" hesitantly.

She noticed my hesitance and then said: "You don't remember me, do you?"

I answered truthfully: No."

She said, "Too bad." and walked away.

That was weird. She didn't let me off the hook even when I was honest with her... though, to her credit, she was honest with me, too.

Oh... and John came face to face with the real Van Granger and both had a big laugh.

I also realized why John had a difficult time meeting women--though to be fair, he also had a few drinks in him at the time. He was standing in front of a table with his back to a woman. She said 'excuse me' to him, as she wanted to flick her cigarette ash down onto the ashtray that John was blocking.

John says: "Why? What's you're problem?"

Aaarrrggh! Matthew and I both walked away pretending not to know him.

Somewhere the truth sucks,

Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is by The Doors: STRANGE. I have used this title before, but it is apt here as well.

PS: This night isn't over--not by a long-shot. But... I think you have enough for one day... I know I did. More tomorrow.    

PPS: The image above is an ukiyo-e Japanese woodblock print created by famed artist Hiroshige. It shows Kinryuzan-ji (Kinryuzan temple) in Asakusa, Tokyo, Japan. It was created in 1856 and depicts the temple recreated one year after a great earthquake had damaged the temple. It was restored and captured in this breathtaking winter scene.  

Tsunami Height

I've been reading all sorts of information about how the tsunami (a tidal wave is NOT considered a correct term any longer) spawned by the earthquake on March 11, 2011 was larger than the officially reported 10-meters (30-feet) in height.

Take a look at this video HERE.

I don't know about you - but even if we assumed that the two-level house in the video is 6.1 meters (20-feet) tall - and then add in maybe 1.83 meters (6-feet) for the roof... that wall of water is a heck of a lot higher than 10 meters (30-feet) before it crashes into and over the tsunami wall barrier!

While at one time I could calculate the height of a mountain on the moon by looking at a photograph of it and measuring the shadow... those days are long past... but that tsunami! Oh, my! It's at least 15.24 meters (50-feet) in height.

And... there were initial estimates of it reaching nearly 24.38 meters (80-feet) in height in one other place.

According to a field survey at the Japan Port And Airport Research Institute (JPARI), the tsunami that struck Ofunato-shi (City of Ofunato) in Iwate-ken (Iwate Prefecture) was 23.59 meters (77.4 feet) in height... more than double the official line given to media.

Guy Gelfenbaum, a United States Geological Survey Oceanographer says:"Watching the video images on TV of the Japan tsunami, it is not a surprise that the tsunami was as large as is starting to be reported... While it is not a surprise, tsunami heights this large are not common -- they are fairly rare."

Even if this height were to be confirmed - it's still not a Japanese record. It is almost half as tall as the tsunami that was caused by the 1896 Meiji Sanriku earthquake - 38.1 meters (125-feet) high - that in combination with the earthshaker killed 27,000 people. 

According to Toda Kazuhiko (surname first) a researcher with the JPARI, the tsunami height of 10 meters (30-feet) was measured at a point where counter-tsunami facilities and breakwaters were set-up - which is why it may have given an artificial height. 

Gelfenbaum explains that tsunami heights are measured by the depth of water above ground, the depth of water above sea level at the time of the tsunami, and the elevation of the ground at the maximum inundation distance.

Andrew Joseph
PS: The ukiyo-e image above is by legendary artist Hokusai, and is part of his famous 36 Views of Mt. Fuji series. The scene is called: The Great Wave off Kanagawa (Kanagawa oki namiura). I do not own an original woodblock print of this - it's a way too expensive - this is an image from a postcard series I bought at the Tokyo Museum.  The original is in the Hakone Museum in Tokyo and is from around 1831.

Stamp Your Feet

Since 1958, Japan's Post Office (yuubinkyoku) run by the Ministry of Post, has issued in the month of October a stamp or stamp series to commemorate International Letter Writing Week - something that may indeed be a lost art form here in the digital age. But, once upon a time, people used to use something called a pen and paper to write about things in order to communicate with each other.
Since the 19th century, people have purchased stamps to place atop these messages (or letters, as they were called) and pay for the privilege of having it delivered to their intended contact. The was done by the Post Office. Okay, I'm being a tad sarcastic just by explaining what a letter is, but really... when was the last time you actually sent someone a letter by so-called snail mail?
During my time in Ohtawara-shi (city), Tochigi-ken (Province of Tochigi) in Japan in the early 1990s, I sent out quite literally over 10 letters a week to various people. That's over 1500 letters in three years.
I had already been a stamp collector prior to arriving in Japan (and had also collected coins, comic books, sports cards and more as a hobby). Collecting Japanese stamps was a natural progression for a guy who had no idea how to save his money because he (me) lived by the motto: "Whomever dies and has the most toys, wins."
What is International Letter Writing Week? Y'know... it is exactly what it sounds like, and is like Valentine's Day... a made-up holiday to sell things. in this case, it's to sell stamps while catering to the stamp collector market. So... I guess it caters to me.
I can't find any data describing what days this week actually refers to. I do know that it was begun by the Universal Postal Union (UPU), however, which is a department of the United Nations that coordinates global postal services. Apparently, October 9 is World Post Day, which is celebrated as such because that was when the UPU was founded in 1874 in Bern, Switzerland. And, just because we're talking about Japan, this day was declared World Post Day by the UPU Congress held in Tokyo in 1969.
Prior to that, beginning in 1958 - October 5, to be exact, Japan's post officer began issuing stamps to promote International Letter Writing Week. From what I understand, the actual week in Japan is set at October 6 - 12 every year.  I can only guess that it begins with the date of the Japanese stamp's issue every year.
Up above is a scan of one of my mint stamps of the 1958 Japanese issue (C281 in the Sakura catalog of Japanese stamps). It depicts an ukiyo-e (woodblock print) painted by famed artist Hiroshige  - I believe it is called : "Kyoto".


Have a look here at some of the individual stamps from this annual Japanese event: LICKED.

Somewhere not quite in mint condition,
Andrew Joseph
Today's title is by Donna Summer from a song she released in 2008. It's dance/disco, but it fit the mold. STAMP IT!

I'm Your Captain

In April of 1991, I took over as the Editor-in-Chief (don't call me chief!) of the Tatami Times, the monthly newsletter for AETs (Assistant English Teachers) on the JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme in Tochigi-ken (Province/Prefecture of Tochigi). Mary Mueller was the Prefectural Representative for us, and Catherine Komlodi (Gasoline) was the editor. They were leaving after this summer, and I was re-upping for a second year.

Blond and beautiful, I had huge crushes on both. I may have had huge crushes on all of the women I ever saw, but that is open to discussion. Discuss amongst yourselves.

Although I haven't mentioned Mary very much, she was a strong, smart and gorgeous broad. In my first ever issue, ye old blogger did an interview for her in my sub-section Tatemai Times.

Here, for your edification is that interview:

Mary Mueller Mulls Macaroni

Recently, ye editor caught up with former Tochigi-ken PR, Mary Mueller. We (The Tatemai Times) wanted to ask her to describer her time in office.

TT: Hi Mary. How are you enjoying life at PR?

MM: Oh, it's just great!!! I now get to relax and sleep a lot more at school!!!

TT: Are you suffering any withdrawal symptoms from losing all of that power?

MM: Well, my office knows I'm not in charge now!!! So I can't spend all of my time on the phone!!! Darn it!!!! No longer can I call up people long-distance and tell my office it's PR business!!! Now I have to use my own phone!!! Do you have any idea how expensive my phone bill will be?!!!

TT: Uh, yeah... so can you tell us an interesting story about your time as exalted leader?

MM: Of course!!! I like talking about myself almost as much as that An-do-ryu guy!!!

TT: Only louder.

MM: What??!! I can't hear you!!!
TT: Nothing. You were going to tell us a story?

MM: Huh?!!! Oh yeah!!! (squeal!!!)

*Interlude* The next six hours are a blur as ye editor slipped in and out of consciousness...

MM: ... and then he fell to his death!!! Bwa-ha-ha-ha!!! And then there was the time...

*Interlude* Two hours later...

MM: Now this is my favourite part!!! Oh come on you guys... wake up!!! I can't believe this!!! Now shut up and listen!!! I'm going to tell the readers all about your snoring on the Nasu hiking trip!!!

TT: Thank-you very much Mary for your time...

MM: Quit talking while I'm interrupting!!!

TT: I hope the rest of your life is as adventurous.

MM: You haven't even let me speak!!! How can this interview be over?!!! Huh?!!! Answer me that Mister Smartypants!!!

TT: Sorry. It just is.

MM: (Expletives deleted!!!)

TT: Th-th-th-that's all folks.

Somewhere there was something about Mary,
Andrew Joseph

Today's blog title is brought to you by ye Grand Funk Railroad: POWERTRIO
PS: Mary was always giving me the gears - but she was so cool to always call me at just the right moment with a birthday wish or a call to check in me or just to get the latest gossip while secretly ensuring I wasn't becoming suicidal.
PPS: Tomorrow's entry is a biography on one Catherine Komlodi - the former Tatami Times editor, but secretly my dream girl.
PPPS: Tatemai means 'white lies'. The photo above is the cover to that first issue of the Tatami Times. Tatami means grass floor mats. I didn't come up with the magazine name, but it's cool. I altered the artwork - one of the brilliant Thirty-six Views of Mt. Fuji by famed ukiyo-e artist Hokusai Katsushika (surname first). If you don't get my joke, it's a running Bugs Bunny cartoon gag. ALBUQUERQUE

You Are So Beautiful

Japan likes to do many things in threes. 

Well... not really, but it does have several lists denoting its top three of blah-blah-blah.

Since it's important to the Japanese, it's important to me.

Today, for your edification are Japan's three most beautiful views (日本三景 Nihon Sankei - which means Japan's three views) as first listed by Hayashi Razan, a scholar, back in 1643. Personally, I just think its cool that they know who first thought up this list. 

While this is Japan's official list, I've got photos of places that seem as impressive. Of course, that's just my opinion. A gaijin's opinion at that. Here's the list:  

• Ama no Hashidate (天橋立). Located in northern Kyoto-ken (Province of Kyoto), this view denotes a sandbar that juts out into Miyazu Bay - facing the Sea of Japan - that connects the two opposing sides of Miyazu Bay. The sandbar is 3.3 kilometres long and is covered in pine trees. Stunning. 

The ukiyo-e image is by famed artist Ando Hiroshige and was done in 1840.

• Itsukushima (厳島) also known as Miyajima (宮島). This is my favourite view of Japan - showing an island rising from Hiroshima Bay in southwestern Hiroshima-ken (Province of Hiroshima).

I've used an image showing the Itsukushima shinto shrine that is as beautiful as it is famous. This image was taken back in the 1930s, and is part of a photo album I purchased in Utsunomiya-shi (City of Utsonomiya). 

• Matsushima (松島). This is a grouping of small islands in Matsushima Bay in central Miyagi-ken (Province of Miyagi). There are 260 tiny islands covered in pine trees. Matsushima translates into shima/jima = islands and matsu = pine trees.  

The photo here - this is the view that everyone tries to capture... this one is a sunrise. It's so gorgeous, that noted Haiku poet Matsuo Basho was rendered so awestruck, that he couldn't find the words to adequately describe it - so he didn't.

Somewhere being scenic but not heard,

Andrew Joseph

Today's title is performed by a sweaty Joe Cocker: DAMP but was written by Billy Preston (played keyboards on The Beatles Get Back album), Bruce Fisher and an uncredited Dennis Wilson (Beach Boys).

Truckin'

In Chinese and Japanese folklore, the koi (pond carp) is a symbol of strength, courage and patience. And, since the goldfish is a relative of the koi, it too is afforded the same status - which is why the OBOE (Ohtawara Board of Education) office where I worked in Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan was very happy when I told them I wanted to get an aquarium.

Truth be told, I have always had pets - I've always had a dog (since I was 3), and a cat since I was 10 - I wanted to get something... A dog and cat were out of the equation because what would I do when I left Japan? It wouldn't be fair to the animal or myself.

Goldfish were my pet of choice - which the OBOE was only too kind in helping me purchase the materials I would need and even driving me to a goldfish farm to pick out the fish I wanted. You can read about a couple of my comic book stories HERE and HERE that relate to myself and Japan and my goldfish.

But this blog is about scrolls - more specifically the one you see here to the left - and about the koi.

According to Japanese (and Chinese) tradition, a koi that could leap up the waterfalls in steps would become a dragon (ryu).

Koi no takinobori (Koi waterfall climbing) as an adage describes one's success in overcoming adversity. I think that is some pretty cool symbolism. I suppose in Canada (and the U.S.) we have salmon traveling back up rivers, and up waterfalls to reach their spawning ground. Their perseverance is awe-inspiring. It's too bad that bears hand out there and kill the tired buggers just as they are about to spawn. I suppose it's the salmon's chance to come and go at the same time. Ba-dum-bump! 

On Children's Day - May 5 - families with boy's fly streamers with the koi pictured on it (koinobori) outside their homes as a wish for the boys to grow up strong and brave like the koi. 

And now, here's some interesting facts about kakejiku (Japanese hanging scrolls). 

As you may or may not know, I love art. I have many ukiyo-e (Japanese wood block prints) that are well over 150 years old, done by famous artists. My next thing to try and collect was also art-related, so I picked up a 200 year-old hand-painted kakejiku, a unique one-of a kind painting.

Each Japanese hanging scroll is actually hand-drawn, so even the same picture will have it's own unique look. 

Aside from owning a one-of-a-kind piece of art, the creation of kakejiku - the actual scroll, not including the painting - is a work of art in itself. It's construction is time consuming and labour intensive. To me it's like painting a masterpiece and then having another master take the time to construct a frame for it. 

While many kakejiku paintings are sumi (made with black carbon from a lamp) and sketched on paper, others involve hand-painted pigments on paper or silk. Mine is on paper. 

Whatever the medium, typically this hand-painted artistic work is completed by an individual artist who is separate from the task of the scroll-construction process itself. 

To make a scroll, a master scroll maker needs to do a lot of things, but chief is the laying of the painting atop a fine hand-made Japanese paper backing. The edges or margins of the artwork are overlaid with a fine silk brocade. 

Next, narrow strips of brocade silk (ichimonji) are often placed as a trim above and below the painting and an additional two narrow silk brocade strips (futai) are placed to hang down from the top edges.  

Since it's a scroll, a dowel is placed on the bottom to become a weight for the art, or, when it is rolled up and placed away, the art is rolled around it. 

Apparently, what the artisan uses as the dowel is of chief importance, separating the expensive from the "I-can-afford-that" expensive. The real expensive stuff (that collectors want) are made from animal bone, ivory or antler. China is also preferable, but the most common material (which is what mine is), is a lacquered wood.  

Lastly, an optional piece is a scroll weigh in the form of a pair of tasseled weights called fuchin - it's used to keep the scroll straight if it's placed in a breezy location - like say a temple or shrine.  

Scrolls are rotated in and out - by that I mean the Japanese change the scrolls relative to a season or a holiday event.  

Somewhere this fish can't swim,

Andrew Joseph

Today's title is by The Grateful Dead: LONGSTRANGETRIP

PS: Just in case I never mentioned it, Andrew, when translated into Japanese Katakana (an alphabet for foreign words), it becomes An-do-ri-yu. When I translated it phonetically into Kanji (think Chinese alphabet), it becomes An-do-ryu. In Japanese, there are many different ways to write the word An, the word Do, and the word Ryu. I chose mine to actually be An-Doo-Ryu. I made the 'O' longer, in order to have my name mean: Peaceful-Leader-Dragon.

PPS: Jo-se-fu became: Help-World-Walk.

PPPS: Andrew, of course, is of Greek origin and means: Man/masculine. I love my name!

Lean On Me

One of the things I like to do while in Japan is visit antique shops. It's not because I want to maximize my investment or anything like that - at least not financially. I have my own reasons, and it's not some obsessive compulsive disorder. Is there something wrong with liking nice things, or having things you enjoy having?

My favourite place to visit is a small shop called T. Takemoto (after the proprietors) on the drag in Nikko, in Tochigi-ken.

After several visits with Ashley, I used to go there by myself taking the 40 minute JR (Japan Rail) train ride into the provincial capital of Utsunomiya to the south, and then another 40 minute train to the north west into Nikko.  

I used to go there and look for ukiyo-e (Japanese wood block prints) - not the type you can buy at a department store, but the ones that were made 150 years ago or more. You can visit here to see some of my collection - UKIYO-E. Others are framed and behind glass  - and really, they are too large to place in a conventional scanner. My friend Cordell at work was kind enough to scan the ones for me on a large work printer and scanner.

At Takemoto's after they realized I was always up for spending a Y20,000-50,000 ($200 - $500) on some of their ancient prints, they began letting me go up to their vault hidden away from the general public, where I would pore over literally hundreds of these fantastic items and determine what I liked (all of them) and then determine what I could afford that month.

But this blog isn't about ukiyo-e.

On my first trip into that shop, I saw under a glass table a komainu - which I understood to mean 'Korean lion dog - 'Koma' for Korean, and definitely 'inu' for dog). It was made from ivory and the sculpting was called netsuke, which is what the Japanese call small ivory (and bone) carvings and figurines.

The the shop owners - the Takemoto's (a husband and wife team who gave Ashley and I green tea (o-cha) to warm us up after walking through the rain), told me it was carved over 220 years ago (as of 1990). I fell in love with it immediately. (See photo above).

The Japanese, when they first saw these statues thought they were dogs, hence the name, but in reality it was the Korean version of a lion - hence the mane around the creature's head.

They taught me that the komainu (as pairs) were placed to the right and left of an entranceway to a shrine or temple to ward away evil spirits from entering. There are always supposed to be a pair - one with it's mouth closed (my carving), and one with its mouth open.

I bought it for about Y20,000 ($200) and kept it in my place for a few months. When December of 1990 came around, I remembered it would be my grandfather Tom's birthday in early January. I carefully wrapped up the komainu and mailed it off to my grandfather and told him to keep it at the base of his door to his bedroom - as it was there to lend protection to him and keep him safe until I got back.

He loved it. And was very happy with my gift.

Unfortunately, in February, he died--in the very room I sit now typing this story out. A week previous, my cat Sam died... I guess the two were intwined because he enjoyed talking to the cat - and when he went, my grandfather lost a good friend.

I was very saddened to hear first about my cat and then my grandfather passing away, and it wasn't for another year and half that I returned home to pay my physical respects. I'll tell you tomorrow how I paid my spiritual respects.

When I got home in the summer of 1992 for a brief respite and to buy new clothes that would fit me, I noticed my komiainu netsuke sitting in the living room on a shelf behind glass. I asked my mom about it. She explained that her dad (my grandfather), thought my gift was too valuable and too nice to sit on the floor beside his door, and asked that it be put someplace safe.

He wanted to protect it, and all I wanted it to do was to protect him. My komainu wasn't able to do its job... or maybe he needed his open mouthed partner to help him complete the job. I figured he could do it alone, as there was only one way a person can enter a bedroom in the West, thanks to a door hinge.

Somewhere you can't trust things to do what they are supposed to do,
Andrew Joseph
Today's title is sung by Bill Withers: listen HERE.
PS: Today was the day back in 1990 that I mailed the komainu netsuke to my grandfather Tom (photo below).

 

Drinking And Driving

Originally entitled: Not About Cherry Vanettes.

For those of you who have not been lucky enough to travel to Japan (Go! You'll love it!), you may be unaware that the month of April is generally considered the time of 'hanami' - which literally translates into 'flower-eye'... but it's not meant to be taken literally.

Hanami means 'flower viewing' (that's the problem with direct translations!), but to the Japanese it means 'cherry blossom viewing'.

Like anything the Japanese put their collective mind to, hanami is quite the festive event - anything for an enkai (party), I suppose... and who can blame them -  working ridiculously long hours for little pay (as an AET on the JET Programme, my salary was paid by the Ohtawara Board of Eductaion, and I made much more than the local Japanese teachers did with 20 years experience. I'm not apologizing for MY salary, I'm just pointing out how woefully underpaid the teachers were/are).

Since it is an enkai, offices take an evening off to gather the troops and spend some time in a park to look at the pink cheery blossoms.

Since parkland is at a premium in Japan (I think the plan is to one day pave it over), there is much jockeying going on to see whose party gets to sit under the most beautiful cherry tree. Some companies in Tokyo (or so I was told) make an employee go out early in the morning to stake out the best viewable tree before anyone else can lay claim to it. It is of so much importance that each company gets its own tree, that I have even had offers from people who want to sit under my cherry bonsai tree. But, because it's only about 11-inches tall, it will only take three or four Japanese.

Generally, the festivities begin at night. The cherry trees are covered in waves of gorgeous pink blossoms, that (over the next few months) I have never seen bear fruit. Companies decorate the trees with classical rice paper lanterns adding to the feeling of comraderie, that pours out as easily as beer from a bottle of Asahi Super Dry. Party members sit cross-legged on a blanket spread at the tree's base, and then everyone proceeds to get absolutely blotto with booze and wonder why the flowers look so blurry at this time of year (see image of my Hiroshige woodblock rint - Hanami is occurring).

April (not March) is also notorious in Japan for its blustery winds. These gale force zephyrs love to tear the tiny pink flowers away from their branches and puke them up all over the place were grass would be if there was any grass. Perhaps this is why people get so tanked (Yoparai desu - I'm drunk) at the hanami--it's so they can feel-up the office girls and pretend the blossoms are still on the trees!

"Oh wow! I see a lot of pink!"
"No, that's just Matsuda-san smurfing his beer all over the Suzuki party."
"But we work for Honda."
"Yes."
"Oh. Sugoi (nice)."

The winds are so strong that it has often bowled over some of the mini-cars (more often than not, these tiny cars have been marketed solely to women, and come in wonderful non-white colours - See HERE) if they have not been properly weighted down. Nowadays, at all Kanseki stores, they sell "The Konishiki", a life-sized replica of one of Japan's most famous non-Japanese sumo wrestlers (FAT BUGGER).     
Mini-car drivers that fail to use "The Konishiki" or a similar 640-lb weight can lead to their vehicle being blown off into a rice field.

For me, I find it all quite amusing - as I once rode past an upturned vehicle. You should have hear the pathetic cries from within, "Bakayaro! (stupid idiot!), as the driver fruitlessly gunned the rotary hamster engine causing the wheels to spin comically in the air. Then, after I picked up the car and righted it, there was a chorus of "Hora! Gaijin-da!" (Look! A foreigner!). of course, they end up back on their back with the next gust of wind.

I've heard that every year several mini-car owners driving their wife's car have committed ritualistic suicide (hara-kiri) because they feared they would now be late for the kanpai (cheers!) under the cherry (sakura) tree and would have to explain to their boss that they were late because their car blew over and had to wait until a gaijin rode by on a bicycle to offer help because no other Japanese person wanted to get involved.

Somewhere tipping cars and drinks,
Andrew Joseph
Today's title is by the punk group Black Flag: OWTCH

Angel In A Centerfold

On a recent trip out to the town of Nikko, about a 40 minute drive due west of Ohtawara-shi, but a 40 minute train trip south to Utsonomiya and a further 30-minute trip north west, Ashley and I spent an enjoyable Saturday without any arguments.

We had previously visited Nikko in October of 1990 (which I’ll detail in another blog with photos) and checked out its wonderful temples and shrines, including one featuring the famous three wise monkeys… you know the one: See No Evil, Hear No Evil, Speak No Evil. But, like I said… more later.

This time, we were in Nikko to check out Kegon Waterfall, one of the three most beautiful waterfalls in Japan. Strange, through it may seem, Japan has this thing for listing things in threes.

Along with the waterfalls, Japan also has a list of the: three most famous castles (I love castles!);

three most famous gardens; three most beautiful views; three most famous mountains; three famous Buddhas; three sacred grounds; three hot springs; three friendliest hands massage parlours; three best places to get drunk; three dog night; three months in a leaky boat. Okay, the last bunch after the hot springs entry were made up, to the best of my knowledge, but who, other than the Shadow, knows?

Anyhow, I promise that the next blog will contain photos of my favourites of some of these famous Japanese threesomes.

After visiting the waterfall, Ashley and I stumbled into a small, old shop on the main drag of town. It was quiet, wooden, and had a warm musty smell that was oddly relaxing. It was Dr. T. Takemoto’s Antique & Modern Fine Art Curios shop, and if you are ever in the area, be sure to check it out. A plump, friendly woman sat at the nearby counter, took a look at Ashley and myself smiled and in English welcomed us to her shop. She quickly ran to the back and brought us out a cup of green tea (o-cha) apiece, then went running back for some sesame crackers. Both were welcome additions, as it was cold and raining outside—what trip around Japan by Andrew would be complete without some rain?

I like antiques. I don’t know squat about them – this was well before the Antique’s Roadshow ever made it onto television—but I know what I like.

Ashley immediately gravitated over to the masks, and miniature statuary, but a look at the prices horrified my girl, so much so that she motioned for us to leave. Now, call me a sucker, but when someone gets you food and drink and welcomes you in from the cold and rain and speaks English, you set a while. Perhaps seeing Ashley’s look–probably having seen it hundreds of times previous from other shocked girlfriends, the shopkeeper asked if I would like to see some famous Japanese art called an ukiyo-e.

I had no idea what that was, so I said yes.

She disappeared up stairs and came down with about 40 folders, each one containing an ukiyo-e, otherwise known as a woodblock print - originally made utilizing cherry wood.These prints were often placed in magazines or books of the day, and often have a fold in them if they are overly large diptychs or triptyches.
They were beautiful. Women in gorgeous kimonos, vistas, action scenes, samurai, sumo, colours popping - in an art style I had only previously seen in Playboy when they used classic ukiyo-e's with witty captions. Who knew? 

Since it was my parent’s anniversary coming up, I purchased one. It was an 1864 print by Toyokuni from his series, The Story of Genji. While I have NOT included it in the photos HERE, rest assured that it sits in a nearby room, framed, and as immaculate as the day it first came out of the print shop back when the samurai class was still a samurai class.
The Story of Genji (Monogatari was written in the Heian-jidai (Heian era) in the year 1000AD, or there abouts. The tale is a work of fiction set in the Imperial Court of that era, with the story combining the only two elements then seen in Japanese literature: romance and poetry. It was written by Murasaki Shikibu, a lady in waiting to an Empress.

There are other ukiyo-e (size varies in ukiyo-e, but on average, mine are 9-7/10" x 14.5" or 244mm x 367mm)  in my collection showing off Toyokuni’s skills, including a triptych: three ukiyo-e, when joined to together form a single scene which I have framed and am too afraid (and poor) to remove in case I can't replace it; and a pair of 1860s comic books sewn together - each contains 10 two-page spreads and one single page of black and white imagery by Toyokuni. The comic books measure: 4.5"w x 7"h (112mm x 174mm), with the image at the top of this blog showing the comic book's colour cover.

I think it cost me about $250 (25000 yen - I'm staring at the receipt as I type... meanwhile in 2010, I have misplaced my coat) and to me worth every dollar of interest Visa charged me over the next 12 years. Actually, come to think of it, thanks to Visa, it probably cost be $4,047. Bugger.

Anyhow, over the next two and a half years, I frequented the store on average once every two months, where the owners taught me about ukiyo-e and antiques. It’s a shame I relied on my memory and have effectively forgotten more than I know. Yes, I know how that reads. I’m forgetful, not stupid.

Enjoy the ukiyo-e images. My thanks to Takako Hall for her help in deciphering some of the Series and Artist information I was unsure of.

Somewhere enjoying the view,
Andrew Joseph