Although Sapporo is a relatively symmetrical city, laid out in mathematical blocks like an igo board and rather flat despite being surrounded by mountains, there are some architectural anomalies that have caught my eye since moving here. They aren’t the famous spots like the Tokeidai or the Former Hokkaido Government Office, both well maintained western influenced buildings that neatly represent the modern planned city that Sapporo set out to be at the beginning of the 20th century. My favorites instead are the many old wooden homes scattered throughout town, all in various states of disrepair, reconstruction, and sadly for many, en route to demolition.
Some of old wooden homes are hidden away, masked by more modern structures
I’ve made this into a small side project of mine to photograph as many of these aging relics whenever I come across them in my walks around town. With GPS tagging and Flickr integration I am able to make a nice interactive map, in case anyone in Sapporo is interested in taking a walkabout.
The Flicker map can be see here and will be continually updated as I find more old wooden homes. Hopefully I can catalog enough of them before they are gone forever.
Sapporo’s Street Car system (tram, 市電) is getting a bit of an overhaul. This past Sunday saw the debut of a new street car with expanded seating and streamlined features. The old street cars are still in full operation as only one new car has been put into circulation(for now). Below you can see a comparison of the two.
Japan’s train nerds were out in full force for the unveiling. As I was snapping these photos a middle aged man was literally chasing the new car down the street, getting down on one knee out in traffic paparazzi style, determined to get the best photo on this monumental day in the world of Traindom. Even I got caught up in excitement and managed to get a pic of the two styles of cars passing on the curve near Sapporo’s public library.
And as Sapporo enters a new modern era of transport, so too does my blog. I managed to finally change the blog name to something more appropriate – snowsoversapporo.
Moving to a new place also gets my creative juices flowing. While the unpacking has been tedious, and the Japanese red-tape involved mind numbing, we have finally gotten completely settled into our new apartment (after two weeks of early breakfasts camping out at my in-laws). My bookshelf was successfully hauled up through the 5th story balcony and every book meticulously unpacked. All set, time to get sketching. Luckily our dining room window offers one of the better views of Mount Moiwa, its slopes still covered with snow. Here is my first sketch made in Sapporo:
“New Curtains in Sapporo” – watercolor pencil
While waiting for the big move in Kawasaki I made a few final sketches:
Many moons ago I wrote of my strange fetish for the Man Cave and how the condensed nature of Japanese life led me to create the next best thing in the form of the Micro-Man Cave, an elaborately arranged series of shelves that represented all that is good and decent in my own “dudeness”. Sadly, due to our recent relocation to Sapporo, that former Micro-Man Cave had to be scrapped (currently being reassembled in a new and improved space). However, while being holed up at my Japanese in-laws (in Sapporo) as our boxes and furniture came overland by truck from Tokyo, I discovered that my wife had been holding out on me. The same woman who sneered and snickered at my meticulous brooding over Nanoblocks and book order had her own stash of anal retentive femininity tucked quietly away in closet in her old second floor bedroom.
A Five Story Micro-Woman Den
What I am about to reveal to you today may be difficult for men, and all respecters of the Man Cave (and Micro-Man Caves), to accept. For now the Micro-Man Cave has a new rival… The Micro-Woman Den(Trademarked). Five floors of pure unadulterated girlyness that is so bombastic in its presentation that it made me both cringe and applaud (in humble acceptance of my rival’s skill). Taken as a whole or explored tier by tier, the sheer dedication to curating this cutesy closet is beyond description. Colorful – CHECK… Reflecting the personality of the individual – CHECK… A space you can comfortably spend hours entranced – CHECK … it meets all the requirements for a Micro-Woman Den. And it shames me to admit it but even I was a bit mesmerized by it all.
So there you you have it, the Micro-Man Cave has a solid competitor. I’m curious what others think. Have you come across similar spaces in your own domicile?
The ground floor offers comfortable footwear and an assortment of colorful tomes to get you through the coldest of wintersFloor two features an homage to VHS randomness, a classic Pentax camera, preserved flowers, tea canisters, Pooh and Eeyore, and a wooden case with unused (but altogether devalued) Disney DollarsDon’t let that giant stuffed bear distract you! Floor three has a treasure trove of PEZ dispensers and figurines that any toy hoarder would salivate overThe fourth floor features a menagerie of plush toys, an antique Disney firetruck, family photos, plastic flowers and nick-knacks a-plentyThe Penthouse Suite – E.T. would feel right at home hiding amongst these furry friends
You may have noticed that my blog output hasn’t been up to snuff recently. Indeed, kanagawacement is going through a bit of a sea change, quite literally. In the last few days I have seen every possession in our apartment packed into more than 50 boxes, our furniture hauled with ropes down the second story balcony, and all loaded meticulously onto a moving truck for a long drive to Japan’s most northerly prefecture of Hokkaido. The Greater Tokyo Metroplex is fast becoming a memory, replaced by roadside snowdrifts 4 meters high and a mountain view from my non-atrociously priced centrally located apartment in Sapporo.
Tokyo won’t be necessarily missed. In exchange for the harsh northern winters, I’ll gain more space, far less crowds, cheaper rents, easier access to nature and greater peace of mind.
I realize that kanagawacement might no longer be the most appropriate name for this blog, since WordPress doesn’t make changing names an easy proposition, I may be forced to keep the former moniker in homage to my humble beginnings here in Japan.
So here are some images of my final weeks in Kanagawa/Tokyo. There’s cherry blossoms aplenty, some interesting oddities, and my life in Musashi-Kosugi all boxed up.
One last walk from school – Tama Plaza, YokohamaDaikanyama Hanami
Ueno Park Hanami
How can one work in these conditions? – Lotto booth Akihabara, TokyoAbsurdly skinny house in Hiyoshi, YokohamaNever a dull moment at Tsukiji Fish MarketPortals to other worlds- Sankeien, YokohamaShibuya by nightBoxes, BoxesSapporo still has quite a lot of snow
The Kappa is one of the most well known cryptics in Japan and stories of this unverified humanoid-reptilian creature have wound their way throughout Japanese history for centuries. Often interpreted as being a kind of water imp, renderings of the Kappa have ranged from a humanoid-turtle to merman and everything in-between. Most commonly its skin color is green, has a beak-like mouth and a plate balanced on its head which must always contain water (less the Kappa lose his vitality) But the Kappa originally had a far more sinister reputation than the lovable modern incarnation cherished by both adults and young throughout Japan. Known in the Edo era to kidnap infants, rape women, drown horses and other such acts of treachery, this scaly green interloper also has a very Japanese-like addiction to politeness and loves a good Sumo or Shogi challenge. The list of strange behaviors of the Kappa is almost endless (take a good look at the Wikipedia entry for a wild cryptozoology ride)
These days the Kappa has taken on a far more appealing and somewhat cutesy tone with the Japanese public. Most know it as a crafty river creature with a penchant for eating cucumbers. It has become a character with the same kind of kawaii appeal as Hello Kitty, and Anpanman.
Americans call him Koopa, Japanese call him Nokonoko – just one of the many pop culture transformations of the Kappa
Even my local community has adopted the Kappa as their own DIY/Renewable Energy ambassador. This papier mache guardian sports a different outfit weekly, ranging from pre-modern Shogun to suit wearing schoolboy, and is surrounded by flashing lights in plastic bottles which are powered by two bicycle wheel turbines in the small canal nearby. It’s a classic example of Japanese civic responsibility and the transmogrification of an iconic creature of folklore. Kudos!
The water from this small canal turns these bicycle wheels which generates enough electricity to keep Musashi-Kosugi’s friendly Kappa lit up day and nightShogun KappaSchool Boy Kappa
Japanese interpretations of western foods have taken miniaturization to absurd levels
Japan often gets ripped for its astronomical restaurant prices. Sometimes this is unwarranted, more often there is rightful cause. This usually isn’t the case with Japanese foods(soba, ramen,ect), but when it comes to western dishes consumers tend to get the short end of the stick. Amazingly, many Japanese people remain blithely unaware of how long that stick should be.
Case in point, the other day my wife and I ventured into one of the numerous small-chain cafes inside Futako-Tamagawa station. (On the border with Kanagawa Prefecture). The cafe we chose was based almost entirely on the fact that it had available seating, and not wanting to wait more than a half hour for a crammed stool somewhere else we quickly settled into a comfortable booth. The menu was pricy to say the least, anywhere between 400-700 yen for standard coffees and lattes (no grande sizes here). Other assorted sandwiches and sundries carried similar price tags.
Expensive, but entirely expected. There was an “Afternoon Tea Set” on offer that looked like it might defray some cost and provide sufficient sustenance. The pictures on the menu showed a nice salmon sandwich, another featuring ham and cheese, several scones, a piece of cheese cake, quiche, a potato soup, and a cup of coffee. Based on the price tag of 1,370 Yen(more than 15 US Dollars), the delicious looking pictures, and the variety of the food in the set, we thought we found a somewhat reasonable deal. Boy were we duped!
“Is this a cake for ants?”
What came out of the kitchen in an elaborate 3 tiered plate holding contraption was an absolute mockery of respectable portion size. As you can see by the pictures I took with my non-zoom lens, the sandwiches were finger-size, the cheese cake could be eaten in one bite, and the coffee took less than a few minutes to consume. It reminded me of the scene from “Zoolander” where Ben Stiller looks at small scale architectural model of a school and exclaims, “What is this? A center for ants?” Now I was looking at another small scale model of food… only this wasn’t a model. It was expected to be eaten! Was this food for gnomes? Do the Japanese have different metabolisms? Am I really a giant?
Mind you, this is not the first, nor the last time I will make regrettable food purchase in Japan. And the issue is never about the quality of the food. Even in this particular case the tiny sandwiches tasted fine (or, I think they did, not enough molecules were present to sufficiently react with my taste buds). It is the miniaturization (while keeping the same price-tag as normal sized food) that I find fault with. Even worse, it pains my ears when I hear exclamations of “Sugoi!” and “Oishii!” (Really? “amazing”, “delicious” seems a bit over exuberant) from my fellow Japanese patrons every time one of these petite dishes is placed in front of them. Will no one take a stand? Rise up and demand your fair share of the pie (quite literally)! Our dignity as eaters is at stake.
February 3rd was Setsubun in Japan, marking the seasonal division according to the lunar calendar. Setsubun incorporates elements of Mardi Gras, Halloween, Groundhog day, and culinary geomancy. While there is ample info about this great traditional holiday available on the web, I’d thought I share some of my experiences from the day.
Being that this year’s February 3rd fell on a Sunday, it was the first time I got to witness the event in-person (on a non-workday) since moving to Japan. Prior to this year my Setsubun memory was confined to when I worked at a Japanese Kindergarten and was required to wear a red “devil” mask and stand in the playground as the children were encouraged to hurl hard soybeans at me. Aside from this not-so-subtle xenophobic and physically painful experience my Setsubun knowledge came from short news highlights and poorly translated descriptions from my less than fluent Japanese English co-teachers.
This year I was determined to get to the heart of Setsubun, so me and my wife made our way to Sumiyoshi Shrine around 2:30 for the local Setsubun event. Instead of the normally peaceful, relatively uncrowded confines of the small Shinto shrine, we were confronted with a completely packed house – most definitely a fire hazard-esque scene. In the shrine’s courtyard was a long platform decorated in red and white stripes.
After the grounds became sufficiently sardine packed with onlookers, a series of barely audible announcements were made via megaphone. Then several well-dressed septuagenarians from the town council took their position on the platform, clutching bags filled with snacks and other low-cost sundries. Japanese Taiko drumming then began, at which time the elders proceeded to hurl those snacks into the crowd. Many in the crowd were very much prepared for this and had brought catching bags which they placed over their heads. Children were also placed on the shoulders of parents, and old grandmothers elbowed their way into whatever nooks of space they could find — all in the hope of catching this year’s giveaways (cup noodles, peanuts, tissues, and corn chip snacks)
This lasted several rounds, and some of those lucky enough went home with considerable booty. My wife managed to clamor to the front (while I stayed toward the exits in fear of a stampede), and filled her ecobag with about ten different snacks. Total value? 120 Yen.
The elders bestow “happiness” by throwing peanuts, pocket tissues, and instant noodlesToss that “happiness”!
After that half hour of madness we returned home and my wife prepared her version of ehoumaki (恵方巻) a seaweed wrap of rice and other fillings. Ehoumaki is to be eaten in silence while facing the opposite of the bad luck direction as believed in Chinese astrology.(This year it was South-South East, the “happiness” direction). A kind of edible Feng Shui, if you will. It was pretty darn good and it keeps the “devil” away apparently.
Eat your ehoumaki in silence while facing the geomantically correct direction!
A little bit of everything make its way onto my pages – stamps, sketches, doodles, a baker’s logo cut out
I am not a trained visual artist. I took only one Survey of Western Art class as a freshman during my undergrad, and that I struggled to get a B in. Even when I was very young I was not prone to doodle in the margins of my textbooks. So sketching, in the form of art journaling (words-sketches-collage), does not come naturally to me. But after experimenting a bit this past year, and forcing myself to produce an effort everyday or so, I have been able to start this 2013 off with an onslaught of art journaling that even surprised me – once I came up for air and had a look at the pages I was accumulating.
My first page from last fall
Art Journaling is a great hobby in which to while away a few hours at a Tokyo cafe, kill chunks of time on the job, or focus on when insomnia strikes.
Sometimes a doodle can lead you down strange pathways of the mind
For me it takes the form of venting frustrations or exploring bizarre themes with words, doodles, pasted scraps from a day’s travel, stamps, stickers, and anything else I feel looks good on the page. My tools are simple: 12 Faber Castel watercolor pencils, a HB led pencils, a few black pens, scissors, and a glue stick. All this, along with my art journal, are carried with me pretty much everywhere I go- all the time.
Coffee cups and food – two of my stock sketches when I’m blocked
I don’t always have a theme to my pages, or even an overall direction in which I am heading – mostly just casual observations about my surroundings. Even mundane things like coffee mugs and a stack of pancakes has a place in my art journal. It is simply there for the doing, the accumulating, art to be proud of, shared or unshared.
It’s a way to spew forth from yourself anything you want, mash it up, make mistakes, develop for a later date, and most importantly – a means to keep you going- as an artist or as a human.
It is my new addiction, one I hope continues well into the future.
Nothing is off limits – even the morning commuteI keep a envelope pocket pasted to the back cover – for “later-on” collage makingTools of the trade
Sumo, as a sport, too often gets deified and lost in the Shinto ceremonies that are blatantly evident to all who watch, from the throwing of salt to the traditional mawashi(loincloth) the wrestlers wear. David Benjamin does a great job in smashing down the ivory tower of Japanese culture in order to reveal Sumo as what it truly is, a fascinating sport. Irreverent and stocked with colorful antidotes from Sumo history, this book is great for anyone wanting to learn more about Japan’s national sport.
Truly a thinking fan’s guide as the title suggests, the book focuses on the in-match techniques as well as the pre-match preparation of the wrestlers. Benjamin is keen on emphasizing those elements which make Sumo a great sport to watch (in person or on the couch) and is quick to bash the Japanophiles who, in his opinion, get too caught up in the Shinto rites, the cultural niceties, and the “honorable” way in which the sport is presented to the public.
What Benjamin helps to reveal is the true humanity of the sport by uncovering the real attitudes and intentions of its participants (wrestlers and administrators). By the time you finish you’ll look at each Sumo match with more clarity and with more overall enjoyment. You’ll become a fan of a sport seeped in history, masked in culture, and performed by fascinating “athletes” who are still venerated in Japan but looked at with skepticism/mockery by the West.
