Renai Saiban (International Title: Love on Trial) opened in theaters across Japan last month and it’s rumored to overtake Kokuho’s box office popularity within the year. Like Kokuho, Love on Trial premiered at the Cannes Film Festival last year and is now slated to make the rounds of theaters across Asia, parts of the US and Europe. Director Koji Fukada told reporters in Cannes that Love on Trial was a passion project and that he had taken a decade to prep, write the screenplay and gather funds before taking up the megaphone.  

The origin of Fukada’s enthusiasm was a small newspaper article from 2015, about an obscure 17-year old ‘idoru’ who was sued by her agency and put on trial for having a love relationship when she was 15. He was moved by her plight to start researching the blanket ban on “relationships with the opposite sex”stipulated in most contracts signed between teenage idoru (regardless of their gender) and the agencies they sign up with. 

This stipulation would be laughable if it wasn’t also kinda pathetic. Japanese talent agencies are notorious for keeping tight reins or to be more precise, chokeholds on their teenage idoru, fearful they would have sex at some point and lose their ‘seiren (cleanliness and purity).’ Fans expect their idoru to be pure and untouched. When it turns out that’re not as clean as the fans thought, they take it very, very personally and accuse the idoru of betrayal. In retaliation, fans stop paying for concert tickets, merchandise and other idoru paraphernalia, trash the idoru on social media and in some cases, lead to criminal stalking. The fall out is tremendous and burns the agency in two ways: plummeting current sales and no hope of return on the fees that went into training, clothing and feeding the idoru. In the case of the 2015 trial, the plaintiff agency slapped the defendant 17-year old with a 5.1 million yen fine for damages incurred. And you wonder why the dating scape in Japan is so dismal. 

Love on Trial traces this narrative arc, but with an excruciatingly sanctimonious emphasis on the selflessness of a typical Japanese idoru. It tells the story of Mai (played by Kyoko Saito), a young girl idoru belonging to a popular girl pop group. Mai had the audacity to fall in love with a street performer her own age, and was subsequently sued by her talent agency. Later, she appears in a courtroom scene to declare that she had wanted to “be my own self” – which is the reason she had allowed herself to “have sexual relations” with um…(whisper) a man. Gasp. 

Kyoko Saito, who herself was a central member of the enormously popular girl group Hinatazaka 46, plays Mai with a polite, restrained adroitness which is a prerequisite trait for any successful idoru. Saito’s Mai is cute without being coy, earnest without being capable and most importantly, is never, ever sexy. 

Traditionally, in-the-flesh idoru must be detached from anything fleshy. Anime idoru on the other hand, are expected to go whole hog on the flesh thing, with tiny, cinched waists and cleavages popping out from unbuttoned school uniform shirts. They get to form a whole other genre of the idoru phenomenon, hold their own concerts and hologram press conferences and adored by millions. Not that they have much fun either, as touched upon by William Gibson in his masterfully prophetic 1996 novel Idoru. The point is, human or algorithmically generated, the common denominator of the idoru lies in the slavish dedication to the idoru identity and industry. “I was an idoru and as such, was in a very honored and privileged position, which I abused,” explains a tear-soaked Mai in one scene. 

One major problem facing the human idoru is the sell-by date. Once they hit 20, group idoru must leave the nest (group) where it was all cheerful, girlish camaraderie and swapping make-up tips, and shift to a solo career. Saito is an example of a group idoru who made it to the big leagues on her own. The other 40 or so girls in Hinatazaka 46 along with rows and rows of other girls in other girl groups large and small, are destined to fade into the ether once they stop fluttering on their teenage wings. 

This particular culture is nothing new – it has been part and parcel of Japan’s entertainment world since the 14th century or even earlier. Noh performers, Kabuki actors, dancers and singers belonged to the ranks of ‘geino,’ where romance was banned to favor the ‘gei,’ or the art of the craft. In the 17th century the Tokugawa Shogunate banned love relationships altogether for everyone. This spawned periodic endemics of double suicide whether people were involved in geino or not. If a couple couldn’t be together in the current world, it was just better to be reunited in the next. This feudalistic fatalism set the tone for Japan’s romantic relationships and it’s still being played out in movies like Love on Trial. 

The logic was that youth and prettiness is precious, all the more so if a pretty youth will relinquish personal desire and agenda to a greater cause, i,e., serving the organization (clan, family business agency, theater group, etc.) and entertaining and or/benefitting society (sponsor, audience). Until the fall of the all-powerful Johnny Kitagawa and the Johnnies Talent Agency in 2022, the obliteration of the idoru’s individuality in order to give joy to others, including sexually predatory agency presidents – was an undisputed virtue. 

That was then. But even before the shattering of the Johnnies empire, talent agencies were being forced to loosen their grip on the young talent in their stables. In 2016, another teenager and ex-idoru was sued by her agency for breaching the no-relationship ban but she was never charged. The court ruled that “having a relationship with a member of the opposite sex is necessary to live life to its fullest potential, and should be viewed as a basic human right.” Only in Japan can such a sentence be read aloud in a court of law. 

You wouldn’t expect The Japan Travel Bureau to put out the finest sociological treatise about the pathology and isolation of modern life in Japan, but here it is. It’s a hilarious and disturbingly accurate read about the daily life of Japan’s favorite workhorse — the company man. Now an endangered species as the younger generation drinks less, and lifetime employment keeps vanishing, they were the foundation of modern Japan.

The book has gone through several editions and each one reflects the time period in which it was written. The ever-updated, ever-relevant Japanese version of The Man in the Grey Flannel Suit.

Though you can find a thousand dry, ponderous tomes that try to explain the why behind the fact that many Japanese workers’ lives are confined, boring, and oppressive, few will just tell you the way that it is. The dysfunctional households, the absentee father, the pains of having to play golf.

Who cares about the why? It’s the how and the now (that was) that are interesting.

In any case, explanations would take away from the space alloted for the amazing illustrations. Don’t waste your time taking Japanese studies at Harvard, just buy this book — in the space of an hour, you’ll be a Japan expert! Okay, more like a modern Japanese history expert, but you’ll still understand more than half of the Japan pundits out there.

Nippon Ishin managed a modest gain: picking up 7 seats overall and holding steady in Osaka and Kyoto—but still failed to break free from its Kansai echo chamber. In classic “hop-parliament-and-merge” Maehara fashion, he switched alliances yet again last year—though you’d need a flowchart to keep track.

Maehara, who is running again in Kyoto’s 2nd district, is a veteran with 11 terms in the Diet.

Who is Seiji Maehara?

Seiji Maehara was born on April 30, 1962, in Kyoto. He studied law and specialized in international politics at Kyoto University. First elected in 1993 in his home district, he quickly became a prominent figure in the Diet and is now serving his 11th term.

Key Political Roles

Maehara held several important positions during his time in government. His most prestigious was Minister of Foreign Affairs (2010–2011), a role that ended in resignation after a scandal involving illegal political donations. Before that, he served as Minister of Land, Infrastructure, Transport and Tourism (2009–2010) under Prime Minister Yukio Hatoyama. At the time, the Democratic Party of Japan was in power and Maehara was one of its most visible figures.

Maehara also has deep institutional experience. He’s served as:

• Special Chairman of the Committee on Okinawa and Northern Territories
• Chairman of the Judge Prosecution Oversight Committee
• Lead director on the House Steering and Budget Committees

He’s weighed in on national defense, disaster response, and election reform—though like many veteran lawmakers, his fingerprints are on almost everything and nothing at once. Perhaps that’s because in the past he had some alleged connections to shadowy figures missing a finger (or two). It makes one careful about their fingerprints.

Party Roulette and Rebranding

Maehara has led more parties than some people change mobile plans. He was President of the Democratic Party of Japan (DPJ) from 2005 to 2006—until a “fake email” scandal cost him the job. He resurfaced as leader of the Democratic Party (DP) in 2017, only to be ousted along with four colleagues after a brief internal rebellion.

In 2023, he launched a boutique reformist group—Free Education for All (FEFA)—pushing for zero-cost schooling across all levels. The party didn’t last a full calendar year before folding into Nippon Ishin in 2024. Since then, he’s shared the leadership reins of the Innovation Party with Osaka Governor Hirofumi Yoshimura, keeping one foot in Kansai and the other in the Diet.

With 28 candidates running in the July 2025 Upper House election, the Innovation Party positioned itself as a reformist force. The results, however, suggest a party still talking to itself in an echo chamber of deregulation, education vouchers, and AI-driven healthcare.

A Platform Focused on Reform

Maehara’s 2025 campaign echoed familiar themes: a constitutional revision package centered on three planks:

1. Free education
2. Governance reform
3. A new Constitutional Court

He paints a vision of “a fair society where everyone can succeed”—provided they study hard, eat their free school lunches, and pass an increasingly rigorous university exam. With household spending on education rising, he argues that public education should be cost-free from preschool through university.

Maehara’s higher education policy leans meritocratic: make access easier, make graduation harder. Universities should be more research-oriented, more competitive, and—if possible—more like Stanford, minus the tuition fees.

The Innovation Economy—Or At Least, a Sketch of It

His economic plan calls for a “dynamic growth economy”, but the buzzwords occasionally outpace the substance. Proposals include:

• Legalizing paid carpooling (including rideshares)
• Opening agriculture to joint-stock companies
• Using spectrum auctions to manage radio frequencies more efficiently

Foreign policy remains a Maehara signature: pro-American, with a hardline stance toward China and North Korea. His approach to healthcare focuses on digitization, AI, and telemedicine, with a target of saving 4 trillion yen annually. It’s an ambitious number, one that seems to have been rounded upward in a policy meeting without much objection.

Still in the Ring—But No Knockout

Despite a long record in public office and a robust CV, Maehara faces serious headwinds. His party’s loss of momentum in the 2024 Lower House election—falling from 44 to 38 seats—was followed by underwhelming polling ahead of the 2025 Upper House vote.

As of early July, Nippon Ishin was polling at just 4%, behind the Democratic Party for the People (6%) and the Constitutional Democratic Party (8%). For a party branding itself as the innovation engine of Japanese politics, the numbers were anything but electric.

Though Nippon Ishin did pick up a few seats in the final count, it wasn’t the kind of breakthrough needed to vault Maehara into national leadership—or to shake the party’s image as an Osaka-centric policy lab. And with the ruling coalition suffering historic losses, the moment seemed ripe. But the Innovation Party’s inability to seize that moment may define this electoral cycle more than any single candidate or platform.

Conclusion: Veteran, Survivor, Operator

Seiji Maehara remains one of Japan’s most enduring and adaptive politicians. He’s outlasted parties, scandals, prime ministers, and shifting ideologies. He’s seen Japan’s political center crumble and tried—more than once—to build something in its place.

But as the 2025 Upper House results suggest, the party he now co-leads may need more than free education and AI healthcare to capture the national imagination. And Maehara, ever the survivor, may find himself once again searching for a platform with stronger legs—and a new party banner to wave.

This post was edited by Jake Adelstein

New Dimensions: Expanded Consciousness is curated by Masako Shiba whose speciality is the fusion of art and technology. Shiba is the co-founder of BEAF (Brooklyn Experimental Art Foundation) and had worked in New York City for 20 years before taking on a slew of art projects in Japan, one of which is art director at Spacetainment, a startup that aims to bring art and entertainment elements to Japan’s space industry. 

This is a decidedly cerebral and strangely calming experience. Generally speaking, AI art strikes me as coercive in its attempt to force the same adrenaline rush that one gets from offing an enemy in a video game. But New Dimensions refrains from brain overwhelm and subsequent exhaustion. If anything, AI’s presence here is so understated as to be soothing. That’s in keeping with Shiba’s opening message: “The exhibition is an attempt by the artists to expand the senses, cognition and existence through the medium of technology.” So, rather than see tech as the opposite if not the enemy of art, the goal here is to view it as a more perfect tool to understand and then expand the confines of modern human consciousness. 

The exhibition showcases the works of seven artists, one of whom is Lu Yang. A much bigger installation of Wang’s work is being shown at the Machine Love exhibition in Mori Art Museum and it’s instructive to compare that to New Dimension’s smaller, more modest exhibit. Both works feature a video of Wang’s avatar, DOKU (which in Japanese means ‘poison’) though they seem to transmit different messages. At the Mori Museum, DOKU dials up the fear that humanity as we know it will self-destruct to make way for machine overlords but in New Dimensions, DOKU is reflective and completely tuned into her own channel. 

Yasuo Mori’s work is a palm sized metal object that had been installed on the surface of ISS (International Space Station), realizing a first-time collaboration between art and aerospace. This feat is by no means easy, according to a JAXA engineer who has worked on the ISS payload project. Miles and miles of red tape had to be cleared before the project was okayed, followed by an endless cyber trail to set down the correct protocol and EVA (Extra Vehicular Activity) procedures. Perhaps Mori has opened the door to a not so distant future where art aficionados board rockets to visit galleries set up on spaceships orbiting Earth. 

Emi Kusano, Schlumper, Kazuki Takakura, Sacha Stiles and Mariko Mori are the other participating artists. 

If there’s something missing from New Dimensions, it’s probably the element of weirdness. The atmosphere is so correctly controlled that one begins to crave a drop of…well, anything that hasn’t passed that through a digital screen. Which brings me to my favorite weird artist dude, Katsushika Hokusai. Granted, Hokusai lived several centuries ago but he’s still having exhibitions, the most recent one called HOKUSAI ANOTHER STORY, displayed at the Tokyu Plaza in Shibuya until mid-May. Not bad for a guy who lived in the Edo Period. 

Hokusai died in 1849 at the astounding age of 94. By all accounts he never stopped working and died clutching a paint brush. During his lifetime he produced some 34,000 works even though the Tokugawa Shogunate periodically banned ukiyo-e and imprisoned artists. 

Hokusai took all this in stride. He wasn’t interested in fame or wealth or spreading some kind of message. The man was a geek and a workaholic, down to the very dregs of his existence. He lived to work, but not vice versa. He didn’t give a hoot about his reputation and changed his name multiple times. He hardly ever used a desk and painted on the floor. As long as Hokusai could make art, nothing else mattered. He was inspired by anything and everything – a gust of wind kicking up a woman’s kimono, a cat napping in the sun, his own craggy face at age 80, scenes from nature, Mt. Fuji and on and on. 

Long after Hokusai kicked the bucket, his paintings were reproduced on cheap news sheets and one day, these were used to wrap a bunch of ceramics in a crate headed to France. In Paris, the export agents opened up the crate, unwrapped the products and exclaimed ‘voila!,’ – not at the ceramics but Hokusai’s artwork. Almost overnight, Hokusai became a sensation across Europe. Would he have cared? My bet is not. 

Hokusai’s most famous work The Great Wave Off Kanagawa is a cliche that beats out all other cliches about Japanese culture, but it’s fascinating for the sheer strangeness of the composition and utter disregard for perspective. The emotion-less world of Hokusai has something in common with New Dimensions. But the weirdness that defies analysis, the provocative urgency that only the artist’s hand can produce, reminds us that when a machine comes between the artist and their work, something precious is obliterated. But then, one of the objectives of AI art is to redefine the what is or isn’t, precious. I guess the modern consciousness must expand to accommodate that.

All photographs of exhibit by Kaori Shoji

“The situation will become unconstitutional if it is left as is and if no legislative action is taken by the Diet,” said lawyers and plaintiffs involved in Japan’s trials during a press conference at the Japan National Press Club on April 23 in Chiyoda. Many of them are from the group  marriageforall.jp. — a public interest corporation trying to broaden Japan’s definition of marriage to same sex couples.

Following the first verdicts from six separate trials across the country, the Osaka High Court—joining Sapporo, Tokyo, Fukushima, and Fukuoka—ruled that the lack of recognition for same-sex marriage violates the Japanese Constitution. This includes breaches of Article 14, which guarantees equality under the law, and Article 24, which guarantees gender equality and emphasizes “individual dignity” and “equality between the sexes”

Check out:  marriageforall.jp.

While inequalities persist, the plaintiffs have criticized the slow pace of justice and an overly cautious government in advancing same-sex marriage legislation. As of today, the Civil Code provides no legal guarantee allowing same-sex couples to marry.

The plaintiffs are now calling for a revision of the Civil Code and the Marriage Registration Law to ensure equal treatment of all couples. In their view, it is no longer a question of if same-sex marriage should be legalized but when—this reform must happen immediately. They argue that sexual orientation is not a valid reason to deny legal recognition, and even though disagreements remain in society regarding same-sex marriage, these alone do not justify unequal treatment.

In December 2024, the Fukuoka High Court recognized that denying marriage rights to same-sex couples was a violation of Article 13, which protects the right to pursue happiness.The lawyers and plaintiffs are hoping for an immediate legislative breakthrough and the establishment of a legal framework to legalize same-sex marriage, as they apply pressure on political parties and the government. The Supreme Court is expected to hear these cases later this year, but they argue that concrete action cannot wait.

A Case Especially Worth Noting: The Nagoya Solution
On March 7, 2025, the Nagoya High Court—the ninth appellate court to do so—ruled that Japan’s refusal to legally recognize same-sex marriage is unconstitutional, citing violations of Articles 13, 14, and 24 of the Constitution. In response to these successive rulings, an April 2025 editorial in The Asahi Shimbun urged the Diet to begin substantive debate on a same-sex marriage bill without delay.
Meanwhile, local governments continue to bolster partnership systems: as of April 1, 2025, 459 municipalities and 31 prefectures have enacted non-binding partnership oath systems that grant limited benefits—though these fall short of full marriage equality.

The Nagoya High Court suggested that a quick solution to the marriage recognition issue would be for the government to promptly revise the law to allow same-sex marriage, emphasizing that doing so would not impose any concrete disadvantages on the public. The court criticized the National Diet for its inaction and stated that it is “difficult to imagine any concrete disadvantage harming the Japanese people” if same-sex marriage were legalized. The ruling made clear that amending the law would not require an overwhelming legislative effort and directly called for legislative action to provide a legal framework that grants same-sex couples the same protections as opposite-sex couples.

The law that could be easily amended to recognize same-sex marriage in Japan is the Civil Code (民法, Minpō), specifically the provisions that currently restrict marriage to opposite-sex couples. Japanese legal experts, advocacy groups, and recent court rulings—including the Nagoya High Court—have emphasized that there is no need to amend the Constitution; instead, simply revising the Civil Code and the Family Register Act (戸籍法, Kosekihō) would be sufficient to allow same-sex couples to marry.

For example, the proposed amendments would change the language in the Civil Code from “husband and wife” to “married parties,” making the law gender-neutral and thus inclusive of same-sex couples. This is considered a straightforward legislative process compared to the far more difficult procedure of constitutional amendment, which requires a supermajority in both houses of the Diet and a national referendum.

Prime Minister Shigeru Ishiba has expressed personal support for legalizing same-sex marriage—stating that “being together is the most precious thing” for couples—yet has not introduced government-backed legislation, opting instead to await the Supreme Court’s final decisions.
Activists and plaintiffs now intensify their calls for a Diet-level bill, arguing that with nearly every appellate court decision affirming unconstitutionality, the time for action is long overdue.

But really, all that is needed to be done is change the wording in a law already on the books. The solution is easy but getting the old cranky chauvinists running the country to take that step remains incredibly difficult.

Note on “Marriage for All Japan”:
“Marriage For All” is the English-language name of 公益社団法人 Marriage For All Japan ― 結婚の自由をすべての人に
(Kōeki Shadan Hōjin Marriage For All Japan – Kekkon no Jiyū o Subete no Hito ni) 

marriageforall.jp
This public-interest incorporated association, formed in January 2019 by lawyers, PR professionals, and LGBTQ+ advocates, has spearheaded the “same-sex marriage” lawsuits filed nationwide. In court documents and media reports, there action are sometimes referred to as 「結婚の自由をすべての人に」訴訟 (“Kekkon no Jiyū o Subete no Hito ni” Soshō)

written by Salome Le Corre. Jake Adelstein also contributed to this article.

BABU is a street artist based in Kitakyushu City, Fukuoka. He skateboards in the post-earthquake disaster areas like Fukushima and Noto Peninsula. He makes art from found trash and discarded objects. His forearms are elaborately tattooed. And that’s about all the information he’s willing to share. BABU’s real name or family, or even what he looks like at this point, remain a mystery.

There’s no disputing the originality and flair of BABU’s art. He doesn’t have a recognizable signature style – just a blasé, street smart tone that’s in keeping with his unknowable personality. In 2018, he suffered from a stroke and disappeared from public view.

BABU has his share of back stories, told by artists and musicians he used to hang around with in Kitakyushu. Apparently, he was always cool, if a little violent. Once, BABU beat up a guy literally to a pulp after the latter insulted his dog. But no hard feelings on the part of the guy – he understood that it was just BABU being BABU and besides, it’s cool to get beaten up by a legend. Others say BABU grew up on the street after his parents thew him out of the house, which accounts for why BABU hates being surrounded by walls. The first time he worked inside a gallery for a joint exhibition, BABU nearly came to blows with the owner. Irritated and antsy at being confined in a closed space, BABU couldn’t control his temper. He later apologized to the owner, but after that, whenever he worked with galleries and museums, he made sure to work at lightning speed and get the hell out of the premises.

He must have gotten used to it. BABU’s work has been displayed at the Ueno Royal Museum, B Gallery of Beams Japan and Tokyo Arts University. BABU’s latest exhibition titled Btill AlivE is open to the public at the agnès b. gallery in Aoyama, Tokyo until May 11th.

In 2021, he resurfaced with an exhibition in Shibuya titled Babu – Yes No. At the time, he agreed to an extremely rare interview with hagamag.com. Here’s some of the Q&A.

Q: This is your first exhibition in four years. What do you think of Tokyo, and Shibuya?
BABU: Schmoozy. Laid back.

Q: What would you do if 100 billion yen were to suddenly appear before your eyes?
BABU: I don’t want any of it, ever. No way.

Q: What about your stroke, how are you coping with that?
BABU: Disability is tough.

At the Btill AlivE exhibition, there’s a video clip of BABU skateboarding through the streets of Noto, where the wreckage of houses and collapsed phone poles tell a tale of devastation and chaos. The camera has BABU’s back view and his feet on a handmade skateboard (also part of the display). But his entire body is encased in a white hooded protective suit, his face and head is completely covered.

Akemi Kouda-Riveau of agnès b. gallery, who has actually met BABU, says: “BABU is an extremely reticent artist and he’s said almost nothing specific about this particular exhibition.” She adds that after his stroke, one hand remains paralyzed. unmovable. “Even with that disadvantage, the speed with which BABU creates his works is legendary. He said that though he doesn’t have full control over his body, ‘speed’ is something he had acquired on the street and defined his artistic expression. At the same time, I get the feeling that BABU’s speed is his very own survival method.”

Survival is one of the themes BABU has consistently grappled with. The material BABU used to create the artwork for this exhibition was sourced from the roofs and construction wreckage that were repurposed and used by the residents in the aftermath of 3.11. Before his stroke in 2016, BABU released a video entitled 《GOSH!》, in which he skateboards through the ruins of Futabamachi wearing a Hazmat suit. Futabamachi is near the site of the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear power plant, and closed down for over a decade after the disaster. BABU repeats the theme in Btill AlivE when he skateboards through Noto in protective gear. There is no music or voice-over narration, just the sound of wheels on pavement, over and over and over.

BABU has displayed a certain ambivalence about categorizing his art form and seems cagey about being placed in the ‘modern art’ file. Now an art critic’s darling with works in high demand among modern art collectors, BABU has said nothing about his success or his future stance or…you know, all that stuff people usually talk about in interviews.

But Btill AlivE is, for all his reticence, surprisingly eloquent. No longer just the bad street kid from Kitakyushu, BABU’s works tell a tale of…recovery? Introspection? In any case, he’s less inclined to pick fights and more willing to play nice, if only a little. Btill AlivE is BABU saying he’s still alive. Coming from him, it feels like both an affirmation of life and a love letter.

As Tokyo’s cherry blossoms reach their peak, the historic district of Ōji in Kita-ku offers more than just floral beauty this weekend. Nestled among the blooming sakura trees, a rare and intimate art exhibition titled “LIGHTS OF FRANCE”invites visitors to step into a hidden corner of postwar European art history.

Running from March 22 to March 31, 2025, the exhibition is presented by Ikono Art Collection and showcases a remarkable selection of works from the private collection of French artist Marcestel (Marc Antoine Squarciafichi). Hosted in the cozy back room of Le Chien Noir, a charming café-gallery space located within Red Tanpopo in Ōji, the show offers a unique cultural experience where art and ambiance converge.

The exhibition features 28 original works, along with lithographs and limited-edition prints, by a group of celebrated French painters—many of whom were central figures in the Paris School during the 1960s to 1980s. Among the featured artists are Yves Brayer, Jean Lurçat, James McAvoy, Jean Larrieu, Jean-Pierre Journod, Claude Genis, Jean Gantner, Jacques Masson, and Jacques-Henri Lartigue. These artists, known for their lyrical interpretations of French life, landscapes, and light, bring a vibrant European sensibility to the heart of Tokyo.

What makes this exhibition particularly special is that these works—kept in private hands for over three decades—are being unveiled to the public for the first time in more than 30 years. Even more unusually, they are available for purchase before returning to France, offering collectors and art lovers a rare opportunity to acquire pieces of European art history.

The exhibition is free to the public and is open daily until March 31st, making it a perfect cultural stop during a hanami stroll through Ōji’s parks and riverside paths.

Exhibition Details
 Red Tanpopo / Le Chien Noir
2-13-11 Takinogawa, Kita-ku, Tokyo
 March 22 – 31, 2025
 Admission: Free

Whether you’re an art connoisseur, a curious traveler, or simply in the neighborhood to enjoy the cherry blossoms, “LIGHTS OF FRANCE” offers a rare and intimate encounter with the golden glow of French modernism—right here in Tokyo.

Pedaling Through Paradise

There’s something invigorating about the crisp sea air in winter—especially when you’re experiencing it from the saddle of a bike, weaving through the islands of the Seto Inland Sea. And what better way to do it than by cycling the famed Shimanami Kaido?

A Winter Ride on Japan’s Scenic Cycling Route

In early February, we take on the challenge of cycling the Shimanami Kaido, a 70-kilometer stretch beloved by cyclists across Japan. The route links Onomichi in Hiroshima Prefecture to Imabari in Ehime Prefecture, crossing six majestic bridges and revealing an ever-changing panorama of rural islands—Ōshima, Hakatajima, Ōhmishima, Ikuchijima, Innoshima, and Mukaishima. Reserved exclusively for pedestrians and cyclists, it’s an unspoiled haven for those who love the open road.

Our journey begins at the bike rental station in Imabari, where a range of bicycles—city bikes, mountain bikes, and electric-assisted options—are available. Rentals are flexible, allowing for drop-offs at designated terminals along the route. After a quick orientation, we push off toward the first suspension bridge, Kurushima-Kaikyō. The incline is noticeable, a small test of endurance, but the reward is immediate: sweeping views of the tranquil inland sea. As we follow the well-paved, mostly flat path, signs mark the distance to both Onomichi and Imabari, keeping us motivated.

Stopover on Ikuchijima: The Lemon Island

While the entire route can be conquered in a day, we opt to savor the journey with a stopover on Ikuchijima, known as “Lemon Island” for its famed citrus groves. After nearly 40 kilometers battling the winter headwind, we cross into Hiroshima Prefecture via the Tatara Bridge, just as the first snowflakes begin to fall. The contrast between the subtropical island landscape and the gentle snowfall feels almost surreal.

Setoda, the heart of the island, is a quiet retreat with fewer than 9,000 residents. Here, we explore the Kojoji Temple’s Three-Story Pagoda, a national treasure nestled in Choozan Park with a commanding view of the Setoda harbor. Nearby, the Kosanji Temple Museum beckons with its striking blend of architectural influences from Japan’s Asuka, Nara, Kamakura, and Edo periods.

Traditional craft shops and citrus-themed delicacies line the streets. Lemon-infused cookies, syrups, juices, salt, and even pasta entice us, and friendly shopkeepers offer samples. The off-season has its perks—fewer tourists, more personal interactions, and an unhurried pace to soak in the island’s charm.

The Ride Back: Art, Sunsets, and a Satisfying End

As we bid farewell to Setoda’s warm hospitality, we pedal toward the rental terminal at Setoda Sunset Beach. The scenery is nothing short of breathtaking—the sky is awash in late afternoon hues, and citrus orchards sway gently in the evening breeze. Along the way, we pass some of the 17 outdoor sculptures of the Island-Wide Art Museum, transforming the island into an open-air gallery.

For the adventurous, the journey can continue to Honshu’s mainland via Onomichi. Ferries offer another way to explore the surrounding islands, but for us, it’s time to head back by bus, our legs weary but our spirits full. Fifty kilometers of cycling later, we leave with memories of an island-hopping adventure where every turn of the wheel revealed a new slice of Japan’s natural beauty.

Watashitachino Henji translates to ‘our response,’ and pertains to a short film made in 1975 by French auteur Agnès Varda. Titled Reponse des Femmes: Notre Corps, notre sexe (international title: Women Reply), this 8-minute ‘cine-essay’ sent ripples of shock through French society for the raw honesty of its theme and the frankness of the women who appear in front of Varda’s camera to answer questions about how they view their bodies and their sexuality. Through her film, Varda ponders what it means to be a woman in the heavily conservative and bourgeois French society of the 1970s. 

Half a century later, the artists in Watashitachino... respond to Varda’s film by pondering their own identities. But while Varda had grappled with women’s femininity as a major art theme, Watashitachino… brings a broader perspective to womanhood. Akemi Kouda-Riveau helmer and curator of the agnes b. gallery boutique, says: “At first, we had thought of replicating the title of Varda’s film by calling this exhibition Women’s Reply. Because we felt that 50 years on, not much had changed in society when it comes to women’s rights and gender equality. But upon closer inspection, we discovered that wasn’t true. There was evidence that gave rise to hope and we felt that the exhibition merited a more inclusive and optimistic title.” 

Kouda-Riveau adds that the gallery also preferred not to “unconsciously alienate” men who would otherwise be interested in seeing the exhibition, or putting a gender bias on any of the work. In 1975, Varda had gathered the voices and images of women as an emotionally-charged response toward an abusive and controlling, male dominated society. But now, says Kouda-Riveau, discrimination and inequality is “everyone’s problem, and one that we all need to think about.” 

The exhibition is heavily autobiographical, focussing on individual bodies and experiences while addressing the universal themes of identity and belonging. 

Artist Mari Katayama was born with a bone disease that deprived the use of both legs and a two-fingered left hand. She is known for her self-portrait photos featuring her prosthetic limbs, decorated with her own intricate embroidery and handwork. In the exhibition, Katayama departs from her earlier, girlish and fantastical world to a bolder, more modern expressive form. Her main self-portrait shows her standing, supported by prosthetics that seem minimal compared to the more theatrical prosthetics of her past self-portraits. In the other photos she has no prosthetics at all, and supports herself on a chair. Katayama’s body has never seemed so quietly triumphant or strong, to the point that her physical disability becomes a non-issue. 

Ana Scripcariu-Ochiai is Romanian Japanese mixed media artist. For the exhibition, Scripcariu-Ochiai put together a video and photos entitled “One Who Weaves the Light.” Her theme is displacement, escape and finding a place to call home. Through her art work, Scripcariu-Ochiai loosely tells the tale of three Romanian women artists – the first is a weaver of carpets who could not leave her country or even her village where she worked. The second is a Japanese photographer who visited Romania after the fall of the Berlin Wall and documented the life she found there. The third is the photographer’s daughter, who lives in the chasm between the twin worlds of Japan and Romania, and uses the chasm as a means of artistic expression. 

Erika Kobayashi is an author, illustrator and manga artist who has worked in a wide range of fields including an AC Japan ad campaign entitled ‘I didn’t even know I has a choice,’ depicting the plight of young girls around the world who are forced into child prostitution or marriages. For this exhibition, Kobayashi assembled words, a video and a photograph of a woman’s hand with what appears to be blood dripping on it. Kobayashi’s words recount how she had her first period at the age of 13 and went through the menstrual cycle until, just before she turned 40, a uterine disease terminated that cycle. “Now I don’t see my own blood anymore. But in the news, people are bleeding – men, women, children, and people who don’t fall into any of those categories – they are all bleeding. But I never see my own blood anymore.” 

The performance artist group Tokyo QQQxEBIZAZEN put on what they call a “life-as-you-live-it” performance. A nine-member group who defies gender and conventional ideas of normalcy., they challenged the spectators to “revel in the extraordinary” by witnessing their bodies. Some were trans, others were cisgender. One man was in a wheelchair and a woman was about 3 feet high. They were all celebratory and self-deprecating of themselves at the same time. Ultimately, they were there to tell their own stories. A prominent member of the group was Aoi Yamada, who is now the Japanese art critic’s darling. Yamada had a role in Wim Wenders’ Perfect Days (2023) and she’s also one of the fashion muses for the agnès b. clothing brand. 

Speaking of which, this year marks the 42nd anniversary of Parisian designer Agnès Troublé in Japan. Troublé herself used to be a leftist activist, who marched in rallies in Paris with her twin babies strapped to her body. Her brand agnès b has an enduring fan base in Japan, with the most number of outlets in the world. The exhibition on the second floor of the agnès b. building meshes perfectly with the aesthetics of the clothing on display downstairs so it would be wise to stroll through all the floors. 

All photos by Kaori Shoji