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Showing posts from July, 2011

And When It Was Bad, It Was Horrid...

  We went to Nagoya on our second cat cafe adventure, this time with a gaggle of our local friends.  To the left, you can see us pictured before our trip, in front of the promising sign of the cat cafe.  From L-R: Saya, her boyfriend, me, Rachael, and Mari (Matt is behind the iphone taking the picture).  We were all so excited!   Then we went up.  This cat cafe left a lot to be desired, in comparison with our other, wonderful, experience in Yokohama over the winter holidays.  At the cafe in Yokohama, the worker knew each cat and treated them all as individuals, with love and care.  Also, the cats all got along, and were allowed to roam free in the main room of the cafe, disappearing when they felt like it to the back room for some chow or a bathroom break.  At this cafe, the workers treated the cats with supreme disdain, and kept them locked into one room with stacked cages and litter boxes. What's more, we went at 5pm, and apparently dinner was served each day at

Atsuta Shrine

We went to Atsuta Shrine on our way to what ended up being a strange hip-hop/clown performance/Japanese idol group/carnival thing produced by the Brother company in Nagoya.  Bit of a set-up, right?  Well, if you're looking for crazy clown pictures, I can't deliver - although one did say "hello" to us - so you'll have to settle for pictures of an incredibly old and famous shrine. The large performance hall. The grounds of the shrine are set in the middle of Nagoya city, but when you step inside, it feels like you've taken a portal away from the city.  The noise of cars disappears, and you're surrounded by thick woods.  Stone-lined paths wind through the trees, crossed by dirt paths, leading to small lesser shrines, museums, and tea houses on the compound's grounds. First, we walked through the museum.  This area of Japan is famous for its swordsmaking, and we looked at many ancient and fearsome examples.  Supposedly, the Kusanagi no Tsurugi ,

After the Lunar Eclipse - A Dancer Becomes a (Literal) Star

Yesterday I went to see a solo dance performance at Aichi Arts Center in Nagoya with several of my dance colleagues.  An internationally renowned artist, Motoko Hirayama , presented After the Lunar Eclipse , a dance first premiered in 2009 in the same space.  In it, she collaborated with lighting designer Takuro Osaka  for an hour-long installation work pairing dance with light. Everything goes black.  Rhythmic pounding and crashes of bass instruments commence, and in the darkness the pounding reverberates inside my head.  A diagonal path of light appears, and in it, a dancer enters stage left.  Slowly, she is pulled toward stage right, performing a series of slow walks punctuated by regal lunges and rond de jambes.  Although she quickly approaches stage right, she constantly leans backwards as if she's simultaneously fascinated and frightened by what she'll find.  When she reaches her destination, she breaks into a robotic, doll-like dance of jerky movements and stiffly held

Miho Museum

Our good friends from CO are leaving Japan (in a few days now), and for their last big weekend hurrah they wanted to go see the Miho Museum.  Located deep in the woods at the top of a mountain, this magnificent structure was designed by the famous I.M. Pei.  Mihoko Koyama, a very wealthy and some say eccentric woman, commissioned the building to house her personal art collection as well as a lot else acquired by the Shumei organization before the museum opened in 1997.  The Shumei organization, for those who are confused as to what this might be, is a religious movement founded in 1970 by Mihoko Koyama.  I.M. Pei had previously designed the bell tower located at the religion's headquarters, which can be seen from the museum.  So you can see it's all in the family. Religion aside, the museum is an incredible piece of artwork on its own.  The two pictures above show clearly the impressive nature of the structure.  On the left is the view of the main entrance, and on the righ

Today's Picture: a Beautiful Sunset on Lake Biwa

To Live in the Moment Without Fear

To Live in the Moment Without Fear  is a work by Yuko Shinoda from Gifu, Japan.  Danced by six women, the dance investigates what it means to be a part of a community threatened by a disaster that takes a life.  Premiered June 5th 2011 in Nagoya, Japan, the dance features a strong movement aesthetic that draws from traditional Japanese dance as well as contemporary styles and contact improvisation.  Shinoda's use of space and timing, as her dancers flow in-and-out of solos, duets, trios, and unison, creates a sense that the dancers are unified and alone at the same time.  In the end, Shinoda's view of life is clear: we must tend to the fallen, but we must never surrender ourselves to fear while we are still alive.