Stardog Champion's Japan photo journal

Harajuku, Part 7: The next Orange Range - NOT!

2006-09-18T13:40:00.000+09:00

Continue off from the sideshow of goth and glam, and you'll see a show of another kind: Rock and Roll.

Every Sunday, about a dozen or so bands set up along the sidewalk that runs in front of Yoyogi park. Most of them are hard rock outfits, though you'll find the occasional poppy/acoustic groups as well.

Most of these groups are aspiring professionals. They've invested huge amounts of money in their equipment, and massive amounts of time into honing their craft.

Some are even lucky enough to get paying gigs in clubs around town. They have friends come along to hand out flyers to get people to come see them play. These shows they do here serve as a type of free publicity. After all, you have to get people to come see you somehow.

But what's most amazing is how the groups seem to have some kind of tacit understanding. Though the bands were all set up within only a few metres of each other, no two adjacant bands were playing at the same time. It's almost as if there's a gentleman's agreement not to try and drown each other out.

Harajuku, part 6: On the scene

2006-09-17T13:18:00.000+09:00

On this particular day, the place was buzzing with members of the press. These two were obviously part of of some TV show. I suppose those who can't (or won't) get in here themselves still like to take a gander at the funky carnival that goes on every week. Perhaps they even like to live vicariously through these daring souls who have the guts to shake off the shackles of this conformist society and dare to be different.

Harajuku, part 5: Gettin pretty

2006-09-16T13:34:00.000+09:00

All this exhibitionism requires constant attention to details. It's not uncommon to see these girls pulling out their mirrors every few minutes to check their makeup. I can only imagine how much time they spend in front of the mirror at home getting ready.

Harajuku, part 4: Flair

2006-09-15T13:12:00.000+09:00

Some of the costumes can be quite elaborate. This woman, who works a regular part-time job during the week, got together with some friends to put together their own little show. When I asked her why she does this, she just said two words: "it's fun."

Harajuku, Part 3: Kendo woman

2006-09-14T13:07:00.000+09:00

This is Christine, an Assistant Language Teacher from the U.S. living in Tochigi prefefcture. It's one of the "country" prefectures, about an hour and half train ride away from the city.

Christine comes in to Harajuku most Sundays to put on her own show in the park. She's been practicing Kendo--the Japanese form of fencing--for a couple of years now. She thought it would add a bit of a different flavour to the Harajuku scene, so she decided to come down and join the show.

Harajuku, part 2: more Harajuku girls

2006-09-13T12:58:00.000+09:00

The girls come from all reaches of the city, as well as from the prefectures that encircle the city. Most of them look perfectly ordinary during the week. They wear their uniforms, be they for school or work. Their makeup doesn't stand out.

Nor can they afford to let it do so. There's an old Japanese proverb: the nail that sticks out gets pounded down. In other words, conform or be ostracized.

Granted, it's been changing a lot in recent years. Major celebreties from athletes like Ichiro with his spiky hair and goatee to Prime Minister Koizumi with his lion-like mane of salt-and-pepper hair have pushed the envelope of what is acceptable in everyday Japan.

However, by and large, these are exceptions. The rules are still very much written in stone. No earrings for men. No facial piercings for anyone. And certainly no tattoos. Dark suits. White shirts. Boring ties. 70/30 parted hairstyles. Conformity.

So when Sunday comes around, those who are young enough to get away with it--or wish they were--flock down to Harajuku to inject their lives with colour and flair. And those who can't do it themselves come instead to recapture their youth vicariously through those who still can.

Harajuku, part 1: Harajuku girls

2006-09-12T12:53:00.000+09:00

Harajuku station sits just one stop away from Shibuya. Technically a part of Shibuya ward, Harajuku is a few inches away on the colour spectrum of this eclectic city. It's famous for a number of things, but in recent years it's become especially famous for one thing: Harajuku girls.

Gwen Stefani popularized these denizens of central Tokyo in her music videos. But what you see there is only the tip of the iceberg. Harajuku girls come in all stripes, from goth to glam. They come to see each other, but most importantly, the come to be seen.

Shiubuya, Part 5: Preaching to the choir

2006-09-11T12:42:00.000+09:00

As with any lively place like Shibuya, anyone who goes there expects a bit of noise and crowding. Most of it is part of the atmosphere, creating a palpable energy that makes it all part of the draw.

But sometimes there's an element that creates a distatsteful dissonance, like eating a great piece of sushi with too much wasabi.

In recent years, there's been a resurgence of right-wing nationalism in Japan. These uyoku groups snake their way through the city in giant sound trucks, assaulting the eardrums of passers-by with their blaring martial music.

To make matters worse, they will often stop wherever there's heavy foot traffic to bombard everyone with their jingoistic tirades. Sometimes they'll even hand out flyers, but for the most part they just preach from atop their trucks, surrounded by bodygards.

But like any extremist movement, their words often fall on deaf ears. Nobody cares. They've heard it all before, and they have no interest. They just learn to block it out as part of the background noise, as they move on to the fun and excitement of this energetic city.

Shibuya, part 4: The Kanji Man

2006-09-07T16:11:00.000+09:00

Shibuya also has a plethora of different kinds of vendors and artists. Or, in this case, artist-vendors. This man writes customized calligraphy based on your name and what kinds of things you want written. People gather around and stand enthralled as the characters flow from his brush like a quiet river. He seems completely oblivious to the gawking crowd around him as he writes words that are as much art to look at as to read.

Look, I'm on TV!

2006-09-06T00:03:00.000+09:00

Just beyond the Hachiko statue is the Hachoko crossing. This is arguable one of the busiest crosswalks in Japan. It's at the crux of this city that's always humming with an electical vibe. The people crisscross here like electrons through the circuits of this massive metropolis.

The electicity is in the air too--literally. Giant TV screens surround the area, blasting forth advertising messages, music clips, and even a shot of the street below.

It serves as the perfect mirror of a city that never seems to slow down. Always moving, always buzzing, always vibrant.

That's Tokyo.

Shibuya, part 2: Hachiko

2006-09-04T13:31:00.000+09:00

The Hachiko exit of Shibuya station is a popular meeting spot for people of all ages. Most people hooking up for a day in the city choose this cute little dog statue as a place to find each other.

There's a rather interesting history behind this statue. Hachiko was a real dog--he belonged to a Tokyo University professor named Eisaburo Ueno in the 1920's.

Hachiko was the quintessential example of the spirit that embodies man's best friend. He would see professor Ueno to the station every morning, and trot out to wait for him as he came home at night.

When the professor died, his wife moved out of Tokyo. She gave Hachiko to some relatives who lived near the station, but he wouldn't stay with them. Every time he had a chance, he would dash away to Tokyo station to wait for his master.

Years later, one of professor Ueno's former students heard about Hachiko's constant vigil. He wrote about it, and the story quickly became a national sensation. People used the story as a symbol of the kind of loyalty they were trying to promote.

Eventually, Hachiko's popularity grew to the point that a bronze statue was carved in his honour. He was even present at the unveiling in April 1934. It was melted down to aid in the war effort during World War II. But even this couldn't diminish his fame. After the war, people petitioned for--and were granted--a new statue in Hachiko's honour.

Hachiko died in 1935. But even today, over 70 years later, it's no surpise that people choose to meet by the statue of the dog who would always be waiting for his master.

(Special thanks to Wikipedia for information for this article.)

Shibuya, Part 1

2006-09-02T16:35:00.000+09:00

First off, I want to say I'm sorry for not posting anything here in such a long while. The journal side of things requires a lot more inspiration, a lot more preparation, and a lot more something else that ends in -ation. If you're looking for lots of photos by me, hop on over to Stardog Photos and take a look.

So here I'm starting a new series on Shibuya. It's probably one of the busiest areas of Tokyo. This is especially true of the area surrounding Shibuya Station. Gigantic throngs of people descend on this mecca of shopping and night life every day. The ensuing masses form gigantic crowds as they push along to wherever they happen to be going, whether it be perusing the fashionable shops and boutiques, meeting friends for a quick bite, or heading out for a wild night of drinking and dancing.

The Suwa Shrine crest

2006-08-25T13:57:00.000+09:00

Just like Christianity has a handful of denominations, Shintoism has a number of different types of shrines. My friend Tetsuo tells me that the Suwa branch of shrines is one of the oldest in Japan, dating back as far as the 8th century. According to legend, there were forces in Japan that were trying to unify the country, but those who opposed it fled to the Suwa region, which is now present-day Nagano prefecture.

Tetsuo tells me that during the conflict, "imperial ( Yamato) forces had unified local Kindom of Izumo, and the second son of Izumo had fled to Suwa for independence." Since Izumo's second son had recognizable strength, the Yamato forces decied to recognize the rebels in Suwa as a self-governing kingdom, provided they never leave the area.

As such, the seal on the shrine is different from most others. The majority of shrines bear the imperial chrysanthemum seal. However, the Suwa shrines actually have the seal in this picture.

Interestingly enough, that is also used as the family crest of Tetsuo's family: Araki.

The ceremonial tree

2006-08-23T08:57:00.000+09:00

Please check out Stardog Photos.

Thanks for your comments yesterday. After going back to Photoshop, I played around with Sunday's image a bit and got it to look much better. You can see the results here.

Now on to today's photo. Like I said in yesterday's post, Shintoists tie shimenawa--sacred ropes with pieces of white rice paper--around anything they consider to be sacred. You can see a small one around this tree, now stripped of its bark and brances.

This is actually used in a very unusual ceremony. According to tradition, Shinto shrines are rebuilt every seven yeras. In the case of Suwa Shrine, they do it with style. Part of the celebration of the rebuilding involves giant logs like this.

Celebrants carry these logs up to the top of the mountain. The brave--or some might say crazy--men who take part in this festival then sit on these logs as they are slid down the mountainside lenghtwise. The men hang on for dear life (literally) as this giant log weighing 12-13 tonnes crashes its way down to the bottom. My friend Tetsuo tels me that every time this ceremony takes place, at least a few people are seriously injured if not killed.

I think I'd rather just watch from a distance with a nice long telephoto lens.

Crystal clear water

2006-08-22T14:54:00.000+09:00

Shrines also have purification springs for washing your hands before entering. The water isn't always all that clean though.

But Suwa Shrine is an exception. Being up in the mountains, far away from the grit and grime of the big city, the toxic cloud that hovers over a place like Tokyo is far, far away. This makes the water here clean enough to drink.

Here you see a very rare shot of Yours Truly on this blog. And after seeing this picture, you'll no doubt understand exactly why I stay out of my own pictures, and you'll also no doubt be grateful to me for never showing another picture of myself ever again.

In other news, stardog.shutterchance.com is up and running. I hope you enjoy checking it out.

The gate to Suwa Shrine

2006-08-20T19:29:00.000+09:00

Well, now that I've finished my series on my friend's dojo, I thought I'd go back to the mountains of Nagano and show you around a rather unique shrine. This is called Suwa Shrine, and there are a few things about it that set it apart from most Shinto shrines in Japan.

But like all shrines, it has a few of the basic elements, such as the torii, shimenawa, and shishi, also known as koma-inu.

The torii (which literally means "bird perch) is the tall, gate-like thing that stands at the entrance to the shrine. Though traditionally made of wood, some of the newer ones are made of concrete. This one is actually made of metal, which is somewhat rare.

Below the top of the torii, you can see the shimenawa. They also have pieces of jagged white rice paper tied to them, called gohei. These sacred ropes are tied across the entryways to shrines and buildings to ward off evil spirits.

Finally, to the left and right of the torii you can see the koma-inu. These lion-dogs also serve sacred purposes. The one to the right has its mouth open to ward off evil spirits, while the one to the left's mouth is closed to shelter and protect the good.

Which path to choose?

2006-08-19T19:46:00.000+09:00

(Foreword: I know this is a long post, but I ask you to read it all the way through.)

I've been struggling with a bit of a dilemma lately.

The original focus of this photoblog was not really about photography. It was actually meant to be more of a documentary on Japan. The focus was to be on written accounts of life over here, with a few photos thrown in to enhance the story.

But over time, I started to realize just how bad my photos really were. (Part of it was actually thanks to Suby giving a strong "me no likey" to a photo that I thought was really good. Interestingly enough, it was through Azhar's kindness in posting it on his blog for me that it (and this blog) got noticed in the first place.

Ever since then, I've been on a constant quest to try and take better and better pictures. It's been a struggle, but I've never been one to back down from a difficult task. A big part of it is due to the rather blunt, though extremely helpful tutelege of our friend Suby. Though I have a long way to go, I feel I've made a lot of progress in the past few months.

However, I still enjoy writing. I also enjoy telling stories and explaining things. I guess that's just a bit of an occupational hazard, being a teacher and all. And as such, sometimes in the rush to tell the story, the quality of the photos gets missed.

So, now I am faced with a choice of paths: do I focus on presenting only the best-quality pictures, and step away from storytelling, or do I accept that sometimes a less-than-perfect image will have to suffice to move the story along?

The say you can't have your cake and eat it too. Well, in this case, "they" are wrong, whoever they are. You can have it both ways.

So as such, I would like to annoucne that I am starting a new chapter in my photographic development (no pun intended). I'm starting a new photoblog on shutterchance. It should be up and running in a few days. This is where I plan to put only the best of the best images, with minimal descrpitions. These shots will be there for the world to judge as they are.

I will still keep Stardog Champion's Photoblog up and running, but I want this to return to its original intent: telling stories about Japan.

Also, don't be surprised if you find that a few shots end up in both places. Sometimes a picture can help tell a story, and sometimes, being worth a thousand words, can tell a story all by itself.

It is my hope that the criticisms I get from what I post at Stardog Photos will force me to improve the quality of every photo I take. This should result in better quality of the "storytelling" photos too.

And in that way, I get to travel both paths at the same time, and everyone wins in the end.

Arigato gozaimashita

2006-08-18T13:21:00.000+09:00

The class ends with a simple bow of thanks, as the students show their gratitude to their sensei for dishing out so much pain and suffering, in the hopes that they too may be able to do the same thing when the time is called for.

And as I wrap up this series, I would like to thank all of you who left your comments. I realize that the quality of these images was sometimes a bit lacking, and I thank you for your patience.

Smiles all around

2006-08-17T08:02:00.000+09:00

If you've seen martial arts movies, you will probably have the impression that those who teach the martial arts are cruel slave masters. You might think that they have nothing but contempt for anyone who dares to come to them to study. You might think that they teach through endless hours of pain and humiliation. You may even think that the teachers derive a sick sense of pleasure from doing so.

In Noguchi-sensei's case, nothing could be further from the truth.

True, he's a tough teacher. He has to be to teach at this level. But despite all the dealing and receiving of pain, everyone at the dojo enjoys the experience. And none more so than Noguchi-sensei. Just one look on the smile on his face--and those on everyone else's faces, for that matter--is all the proof anyone needs.

Bam!

2006-08-16T14:01:00.000+09:00

Sometimes a counterstrike is needed to subdue an opponent. Of course, it's best to deliver one after imobilizing him so that he can't react in turn.

Maximum pain with minimal force

2006-08-15T12:10:00.000+09:00

One of the major ideas behind this particular martial art is understanding how the human body works. How the joints go together. How limbs move. How the nerves relay messages.

Then, it teaches you how to exploit those things to make your opponent feel pain.

What's amazing about it is that it takes very little in terms of physical power to do so. All you have to do is understand torque, leverage, and pressure. And then, you have to be quick and clever enough to move out of the way of an attack, and then manipulate your opponent to immobilize him.

Notice here how the back of the student's hand is presed up against Noguchi-sensei's thgh. And all Noguchi-sensei is doing is putting his hand on the student's shoulder to make sure he can't move away. No big headlocks. No devastatig punches. No blood gushing out of any orifice. Just torque, leverage, and pressure.

Of course, it takes years to master these techniques. All of the students here have had years upon years of basic martial arts training. It's assumed that they already understand how to dodge, counter, and most of all, fall without getting hurt.

That looks painful!

2006-08-14T11:06:00.000+09:00

Part of the idea behind any martial art is to get a true feeling of how a technique works, from start to finish. And there's no better way to do that than to be on the receiving end of it.

It certainly can be painful, especially when certain techniques have the potential of breaking bones. However, it also allows the student to appreciate just what kind of pain they'll be dishing out, and whether or not they really want to go that far.

But not all learning has to be through direct experience. As you can see from the grimaces of pain on the other students' faces, you can quite easily learn vicariously just how much something can hurt by watching your friend writhe in pain.

Just throw him like this

2006-08-13T01:05:00.000+09:00

Noguchi-sensei is a great teacher. He'll gladly show a technique four, five, even six times until everyone understands it. And he'll even give a student plenty of one-on-one istruction to help with the finer points, making sure they're getting it right.

Oh no ya don't!

2006-08-11T23:57:00.000+09:00

The instructor, Noguchi-sensei, is almost 65 years old. But he looks and moves like a man half that age. He is so attuned to the art of combat that he can almost intrinsically sense what an opponent is about to do, even before he himself knows what it is.

In this particular art form, the focus is on using the opponent's energy against himself. Not a single move is wasted. The punch or kick is swiftly deflected, and the remaining energy is used to attack the opponent in turn.

The calm before the storm

2006-08-10T20:52:00.000+09:00

My friend Podgy was kind enough to invite me to his dojo the other day. He's been training in various forms of martial arts since he was 15 years old. In fact, he came to Japan originally to train, and he's been here for, well, much longer than I have.

Those weapons on the wall are not just for show, either. Granted, the majority of the art revolves around unarmed combat. But from time to time, the sensei will show how a particular technique can be adapted to a particular type of weapon.

During the busy times, as many as 50-60 people can be crammed into this tiny dojo no bigger than a house. Its reputation extends around the world; people come from all different countries to train here.

In the coming days, I hope to show you a slice of the gruelling, yet enjoyable training that these people undergo at the dojo of one of the last true masters of a fading form of combat.

Oh yeah, be sure to check out Podgy's Tokyo Talk for a slightly different perspective on Japan!