135,800

That is the vast number of people, including the lucky two of us, who attended the first day of the 43rd Tokyo Motor Show. Inside the building the crowd thronged with revheads lugging their oversized cameras and tripods around. The massive crowd (and the girls) almost obscured the cars and turned getting a clear view into a test of both perserverance and endurance.

   

            

Having observed the Tokyo Motor Show on the news over the years, it was a great opportunity to experience what all the fuss is about. I was impressed by the tremendous number of vehicles on display simultaneously in one location; and if we were in the market for a new car this would be the place to be. Engineer husband was a little disappointed about the lack of innovation and felt that shift away from the tired, old four-wheel design is long overdue, but as anyone who knows me can attest, I am not into cars and I was unfazed by the lack of variety in the lineup.

However, true to form, I did find the venue, the Tokyo Big Sight in Odaiba (i.e. the nickname for the Tokyo International Convention Center) itself to be quite fascinating. According to Wikipedia, this is where the wrestling, fencing and taekwando events will be held at the 2020 Olympic games and it will also serve as the main broadcasting centre and press centre. For those who would like a better sense of its locale, here is a Google Map.

From the outside, it has an imposing form which demands your attention, and from the inside, it is a maze of different levels (which again, demands attentiveness). I took the below photograph of the main entrance below as we were leaving. The stream of people leads to the entrance at the far right.

If you are a person who likes a map here is a building map. Our route for the day entailed us entering the building from the east wing (bottom left photograph) as we had ridden our bicycles and ended up here rather than at the main entry point. Research after the fact uncovered that this wing had been built by husband's company in 1996 with the opposite west wing being built by a different contractor. Once inside I lost all sense of direction and followed the flow of the crowd. After we saw the east wing exhibits, we walked through a connecting passage to the west wing and checked out more displays. To escape exit we ascended to the fourth floor (below right photograph) where there was a viewing platform and the surrounding buildings looked close enough to touch before we found the outside staircases and our way out.

Phew, relief to be outside again and surrounded by open space. Quite happy to hop on my bicycle and cycle home as the sun commenced its descent. Although it would be dark by the time we covered the 16 kilometres distance. Perhaps a car could be a good idea after all? No, I'm just kidding, you knew that, didn't you? I can't imagine when we will ever own a car again. In the meantime, we love our bicycles, especially on glorious autumn days like this one was, and are quite content to rely on pedal power to the nth.

Japan Folk Crafts Museum, Komaba, Tokyo

A sunny bright blue sky made my trek with a friend to Komaba to visit the Japan Folk Crafts Museum the other day very pleasant indeed. Autumn is the prescribed season for artistic viewing events in Japan precisely because of such wonderful days. And it was bliss to be outside in the sun's warm rays on an especially perfect day.

You can see the entrance to the museum in the photograph to the left. It was not simply what was inside these walls which had attracted me here. The museum was built in 1936 by Soetsu Yanagi who was closely involved in its design. Carpenters were brought from Tochigi to carry out the fine craftsmanship and once inside it was clear that a great, great deal of attention had been paid to every detail. The photo at the top right shows the benches placed in every room atop wooden floorboards and a customised display case in the background.

Our timing was also fortunate as the Yanagi residence (below left) across the road was open to the public. This home was delightfully quaint with its tatami-mat rooms and a book-lined library. The entrance floor was lined with stone (below right) which was beautiful albeit rather chilly. This is one museum which would make an ideal summer oasis. Despite the decidedly cool indoor temperatures, there were quite a few fellow attendees, all eager to pay homage on the second-last day of the exhibition.

The museum was displaying various items from the collection of Sori Yanagi, the son of Soetsu Yanagi. While the father was a philosopher who fostered an appreciation of the folk arts through the establishment of the museum, his son was an industrial designer, and later, the third curator of the museum. In my limited experience, it is rare for individual collectors to occupy prominent public positions in Japan and my eye had been caught by the title of the exhibition: "Eyes of Sori Yanagi". 

The items being presented had been compiled from his personal much-loved collection to give people a glimpse of the objects he had sought out during travels to Africa and West Asia and which had inspired him in his own works. The pamphlet prepared by the museum explained they had chosen not to add any explanation to the items in order for people to focus on the innate beauty of the objects. For devotees of Yanagi's designs there was probably no need for any elucidation but for myself, I was thankful I had briefly researched the man prior. Aside from his success as a designer, I was curious how his name, "Satoshi" morphed into his nickname "Sori". Did he apologise one too many times and end up with a new moniker perhaps? 

My search was unsuccessful and I put that mystery aside and instead concentrated upon pictures of his famous kettle (see here) which looked instantly familiar to me. His other revolutionary design was the butterfly stool (see here) which is now part of the MoMA collection in New York and available for only USD725. No doubt it would make someone a lovely Christmas gift.

Moving around the galleries, I gazed intently at the items to find the connection between them and his designs, and felt like I had come up with an original design myself each time I felt I discerned a creative link. I felt snobbishly gratified that his textile collection included a number of  kantha (running stitch) quilts from India (maybe Bangladesh now) which were like the one I have. Also he had a fascination with African masks, some of which were massive. Quite different in scale from the kind of souvenirs I can fit into my suitcase when I travel. My friend and I surmised he would have shipped these home. With the museum just across the road from his home, he would have had plenty of storage space. Looking at these items it was quite amazing to think they had fed his creative juices and in turn, he was inspired to re-create their form anew. 

After contenting myself with a few postcards from the gift shop and several photographs from the footpath, we departed. I headed home feeling enriched from my short sojourn with Sori Yanagi. Although, if they had been selling bottles of whatever it was that Sori Yanagi imbibed with his meals, I may have been a little more extravagant with my purchases. Maybe travel was his magic elixir, but wouldn't it be something if we could just drink in new ideas with a tonic every day? (non-alcoholic, I mean, of course).

Autumn life cycling

Gunning our engines in front of our apartment block, we are on the verge of riding our bicycles to our local shopping centre for a very ordinary Sunday afternoon of shopping here. I thought perhaps I would like to browse for a new pair of gloves now that the weather has taken a turn for the cooler. The jackets shown in the photographs were not really essential when we set out as it was a warmish 15 degrees Celsius. The days are shortening however and when the sky begins to darken, which is around 4:45pm these days, a coat becomes much appreciated.

I try not to talk about our bikes when I am speaking English because then I slip up and use the same word when I am speaking with Japanese speakers and a "bike" in Japanese is a motorbike, and from there the conversation spirals into chaos and confusion. Of course, I could just use the Japanese word, "jitensha" but that somehow does not slide off the tongue as easily. 

Despite the slippery semantics, we do love our bicycles because they help us make trips to the shops without too much fuss. In fact, we discovered the existence of an impressively large shopping complex close to us (and our destination on Sunday) during one of our early reconnaissance missions. Without our bicycles, by foot it would take thirty minutes to walk there, or we would have to catch a not-so regular bus and as this would require advance planning, it would probably never happen. 

We have even ridden to the local golf driving range on them as we have a golf bag with shoulder straps. Only ever side-swiped an electricity pole once, thankfully managed to miss all living obstacles met along our path (so far). After living in places where moving around is difficult due to high levels of traffic, it has been a joy to regain our mobility independence. Tokyo is also a city of layers and viewing it from the street reveals much of its character.

We are not alone in being crazy about our machines as when I returned to Tokyo this year, I noticed many more bicycles on the footpaths compared to past periods when I have lived in Japan. After the Tohoku earthquake and tsunami in 2011, many people were scared and they switched to using bicycles for their personal transportation because these are a reliable form of transportion during emergencies. Due to the increase in the number and age of cyclists, there are even special bicycle accident insurance policies for elderly people available. Although in my opinion the more dangerous cyclists tend to be the younger women who ride against traffic i.e. in my way. I was advised that visualising them splattered with a paint-ball was one way to reduce any feelings of frustration, and I can report it is an effective ploy.

Leaving my bicycle unchained anywhere in public is also risky as theft is rife. There is something about the cycling world that lets loose an avalanche of unlawful acts by its inhabitants. This occurs in sharp contrast to most other spheres of society where rules are upheld as golden. The registration system for bicycles does not seem to deter certain elements. The police do sometimes check for proof of possession and when I gave away my older bicycle through freecycle earlier in the year, I had to draw up papers to transfer ownership to ensure the new owner would not encounter any problems. 

Our shopping centre (mall) was packed with masses of people who all had the same idea to escape inside from the gloomy overcast sky outdoors. The bustling crowds reminded us of the Glorietta mall in Makati city in the Philippines. Engineer husband's last project in Northern Luzon was to build a weather radar tower which was funded with a low interest yen-loan. 

It is gratifying to think his work had contributed in a small way to the Philippines receiving some advance warning of the arrival of the super typhoon Yolanda / Haiyan. The devastation seen through media such as YouTube is reminiscent of the 2011 tsunami in Japan however and the scale of the typhoon means that merely receiving advance warning was never going to be enough to save everyone. It is truly sad. As a friend who is living in Manila commented, "there seems to be one universal truth whenever something like this happens, it's the poor who suffer the most." 

I never found the gloves I wanted. But I am thankful for a stable and safe life. Life goes on as usual for the time being. And that is wonderful!