Going Dotty

At the time I graduated from college I couldn't imagine traveling somewhere without going to their art museum.  One of my first trips into Seoul during my first Korean sojourn was to see an exhibition of Marc Chagall at Seoul Museum of Art.  This hasn't been a constant, though...in spite of a lot of recent art posts, I think I only went to one art show when I lived in Shanghai, and none as far as I can recall in the Middle East.  Strangely enough, it wasn't until I started teaching high schoolers again that I started to prioritize getting to art galleries again.  But I'm back now, more or less, and have been halfway considering starting a second blog, which would focus on my art and the art I see here.  Since it hasn't happened yet, here we art.

My first day out, I came across Kanazawa's art museum.  I toyed with the idea of seeing it, and made it as far as the entrance hall, but there was a crazy long line.  I'm too lazy at the moment to look back and see if I've told you this before, but I definitely have some lingering culture shock about going to museums here.  There were times in the Zanabazar or UB's Modern Art Gallery that I was the only patron.  I feel like that would never happen here.  The times I've been to a major exhibition I've felt kind of like it's a contact sport.  When I looked at the long line at the museum in Kanazawa, I decided I would live to see another day, and walked away.

I mean, c'mon.  I live in Yokohama, and Tokyo's a short ride away.  What am I supposed to see out in the styx that I can't see here?

The answer to that is, of course, Kusama Yayoi.  Even if you don't know her name, there's a pretty good chance you've seen one of her iconic pumpkins (especially if you were reading my blog six months ago).  Kusama actually has a museum here, but I lack the patience, perseverance, and timing to get tickets.  So when I was looking for what else to see in Matsumoto besides the black castle, and I found out their Museum of Art was in the middle of a huge exhibition, I decided I had to go.

I have to admit in the last few years I've dialed down my phallic tourism (mostly because I've run out of places to go).  One of the reasons I was so keen to see an exhibition of Kusama's was because I knew she had created at least one of her "infinity room" installations filled with phallic soft sculptures, and given my weird niche in the travel blog market, I sort of had to see one, and this time luck was with me!

Another thing that I really admire about Kusama is that her work stands as a testimony of the power of art.  I'm not going to go too deep into her origin story, but she suffered abuse as a child as well as battling mental illness most of her life.  Art was the thing that gave her the power to be strong.

And what amazing art!  Usually I don't really dig abstract art, but there is something really playful and energetic about her paintings that just draws you in.  Like the Kanazawa museum, there was a line up for tickets, but rather than turning away I just wondered if the other patrons in line with me knew, if they understood what she'd been through, and how fantastic it was she has been able to
turn her suffering into such joyful artworks...or if they just wanted to see the show because she was famous.

The crowds were one of two things that marred the experience for me.  The other was that I would have liked to sit down and work in my sketchbook.  When I was a student teacher, I remember complaining to my mentor, Lulu, that the Nelson-Atkins only allowed you to use a soft-leaded, graphite pencil in the museum.  We both found this absurd - after all, the Louvre will go so far as to let you set up your easel and oil paint on the premises.  I found myself thinking about this after both of the art museums told me all I could use was a pencil.  I thought it was particularly ridiculous at the Glass Museum in Toyama, since the works technically couldn't be damaged by the pens or watercolors that I carry around when I'm out adventuring.

As it turns out, though, sometimes inspiration strikes you when you least expect it.  Lots of places had koinobori up in the weeks leading to Children's Day, but it wasn't until I saw them flying in rows over a stream in Matsumoto that I was able to see how cool a subject they could make as one of my gou-ashi collage paintings. 

And once I got back to Tokyo, that meant that I was going to have to visit the National Art Center.  On the train I'd seen the poster for Koinobori Now, their show that featured, I dunno, hundreds, maybe, of stylized windsocks, each made of a different fabric.  They were hanging from the ceiling of a huge room, and although they asked you not to touch them, you could walk between them, and even sit down on the bean bags clustered throughout the room.  After walking through the stream of carp to the back where they had a paper craft set up, I came back and sat down on one.  I looked up at the ceiling, where a sheer fabric was attached, rippling in the breeze from a fan, illuminated by lights that gave the impression of light dancing off the surface of the water.  As I watched I felt the most relaxed I'd been all week - a great way to finish my Golden Week.

Fly by Night

As mentioned previously, one thing I love about Japan is the fact that it's possible to believe there's more out there.  I've always found reality to be a bit of a bore, and am sure that the addition of superpowers, other worlds, and magical creatures would be a vast improvement.  If I ever get the chance to create my own world, I guess we'll find out.

That said, the fact that Japan lends itself easily to the belief that there are otherworldly creatures hiding in the shadows means that night in Japan is creepier than night just about anywhere else. Japan is widely accepted to be safer than just about anywhere else, but then, I've never been all that scared of human threats.  Personally I think I can be as scary or scarier than anyone else lurking in the dark...but possibly not anything.  After all, who knows what the local population of demons is capable of?

That didn't stop me from going to the beach both of the last two nights I was in Toyama, hoping to see the hotaruika; there were plenty of other squid seekers hanging around and my AirBnB was only a couple of blocks away.  However, I did give the shrine at the edge of the beach a wide berth as I walked out to the shoreline.  Not even one more chance to drop a coin at Benzaiten's shrines in hopes of winning the competition at CLOUDS (which I didn't, and who knows?  Maybe that was why.  Then again, maybe it was the fact that the 400 "friends" I have on Facebook are so lame that I can't even rely on them to click a bloody link) could have lured me into those shadows.  By the time I got to Nagano, though, the idea of exploring its temple district after dark had a distinct appeal.  So once I got back from Matsumoto I made a quick stop at the Unicorn Hotel (yes, that is actually the name of the place I stayed) to drop of most of my crap, and then went hence to Zenko-ji.

Now.  Another thing I love dearly about Japan is that there are things open 24 hours (although not to the same extent as Korea).  However, when I got within a few blocks of the temple the streets were absolutely deserted.  The shops were closed, and the orange sodium streetlights either cast everything into high relief or shadow.  Caravaggio would have adored this night.  I, on the other hand, was at least a little on edge. The cool night air and lack of tourists was wonderful, but the contrast between the bright lights and the deep shadows meant it was hard to be sure what I was seeing.

I was about to walk out through the big gate when I looked back over my shoulder and saw a red glow set back a little further in the temple grounds.  If life were anime, I should have ran as fast as my feet would go.  Since it's not, I went to check it out, and found a Jizo statue enshrined with a couple of red lanterns.  Water trickled in a stream behind me.  Someone crunched along a gravel path to get to the parking lot.  It was not quite enough to break the spell.

I mentioned Benzaiten before.  I hadn't had much luck finding her shrines this trip, but in the dark of the Nagano night I came across banners for Bishamonten and Ebisu, so I figured there was a Shichifukujin meguri around, and when I looked it up back at the Unicorn hotel, I found that the shrine I was looking for not too far away on the shopping street.  The next morning I woke up and went looking for it, but was sad to see the gate closed and locked. 

I went around the corner, wondering if there was a side way in.  There was...sort of.  Most people don't realize that if you act as if you belong somewhere everyone will assume you do, but I wasn't quite willing to risk it.  Squeezing between the wall and fence that I was going to have to manage seems like the sort of thing that would either end in me being grievously injured, cursed, or both.  Instead, I decided that I would just enjoy the sunny, Children's Day morning.

The shopping street let out into the main boulevard up to the temple, which was set up with stalls for Children's Day.  I walked along it to see what there was to see.  Most of the stalls were still setting out their wares,  which was fine, since it's possible that my spending money met its end two nights previous in a rigged UFO catcher.  I came across my favorite bakery for melon pan, and while I was munching on my bread a band came marching up the street.  It was totally natsukashii, although it never ceases to strike me as odd when I see the crowd moving alongside the parade.  I followed it back up the hill, until I came to the arcade, where I found that, like some sort of key, the music had unlocked the gate, and I was able to go in and throw in my coin.  After all, I may have lost the current battle, but the war is far from over.

A Sampler of Cities

Here's a joke for you that rings all too true - what kind of hotels do art teachers stay in?  Sketchy ones!  It's been a while since I've stayed in an actual hotel, and I wasn't really planning on doing it now.  AirBnBs tend to be a better room for a better price, but the one I booked myself into in Nagano turned out to actually be a hotel...which just happened to be a few blocks up from a red light district.  I've done this on more than one occasion (notable exception: Amsterdam) and it never fails to amuse me that I can be so adept at it.

This has been a strange sort of trip for me, as evidenced by my inability to keep up my blog.  I ran around a lot, and saw some stuff, but most of the things I saw and did I've seen and done before.  Since I didn't want to bore all six of my faithful readers with the same old stories, it took me a little longer to come up with a different way of approaching this trip than "Lemme tell you all the stuffs I did."

The whole point of my Golden Week travels was to go to Toyama, but once I got off the Willer bus there, I stuck my bag in a locker and immediately caught a train for Kanazawa.  This was kind of dumb, because the bus goes on to Kanazawa from there, but I didn't  realize that when I booked the ticket.  Anyways.  If you can believe the hype, Kanazawa rivals Kyoto for its beauty and intact old buildings, which is a nice thought but untrue in my opinion.  Kanazawa was nice enough (except for the tourists and the hot sun beating down), but unlike Kyoto, I feel no need to go back.

For me, the highlight of Kanazawa was the gardens.  Ain't nobody does a water feature like the Japanese.  All throughout the place you could hear the laughter of water over rocks.  I wished I could have seen it back in late February, when the plum grove would have been blooming.  Instead I got to witness clouds of pollen launching themselves off thousand year old pines.  I went through a lot of tissues that day.

I headed back to Toyama that evening.  This was a city I actually liked quite a bit, and it's kind of strange.  I didn't actually do a lot there.  I went because I wanted to see the firefly squid light up the bay, and sadly, I missed it.  The hostess of the second place I stayed said they'd been on the beach the night before I came to stay with her, and though I went out both nights I was at her place, they didn't come back.  It was disappointing, but I wouldn't mind trying again next Golden Week.

Instead I got to see them in the Hotaruika Museum in nearby Namerikawa, but it felt like a bit of a cheat.  Since that quest was ultimately a failure, my favorite thing about Toyama - besides watching Avengers without having to book in advance or share armrests - was the Glass Art Museum.  Or, to be more precise, their "garden" of Chihulys.  These days I don't go full fangirl every time I see his work, but they had some amazing pieces, curated beautifully.  I looped around and went through the exhibit again after I finished the first time.  It was great.

I also made a side trip to Takayama.  Although I went there for the folk village, that wasn't the best part of Takayama.  What I loved most about it...okay, the thing I really loved the most is that someone made a theme cafe right across from the station based on erotic ukiyo-e prints.  I didn't actually go there - too many questions about what's in the secret sauce for this girl! - but I looked at the photos on Google maps and it was accurately named.  Besides that, my favorite thing was the temple district.  After finding a place for a late lunch, I wandered downstream to a huge torii, and found my way uphill to its shrine, then wound my way through old streets - the setting sun cast a golden light on everything, making me wish I had a little longer to explore everything.  Instead, I had to catch the train back to Toyama.

It actually turns out I really love the train.  It should seem like a huge waste of time to chug along the tracks on a local train.  Instead, I find it really relaxing.  You get to think, and read, and enjoy the scenery.  For about two hours I was planning to keep things simple and just take the shinkansen to get to Nagano.  It would have saved me four hours, but cost twice as much.  Since I don't get paid that kind of money, it's just as well I like the train.

Nagano was...not what I was expecting.  I'm not entirely sure what I was expecting, other than the fact that my distant cousin had been living there and seemed to like it a lot.  It once hosted the Olympics and grew out of a temple district, and that seemed good enough to justify a trip.  Also, the bus back was half the price of getting to Toyama, and should have taken half the time, although I've now been on this bus for longer.. it turns out the traffic getting back from Golden Week is a pain, and I maybe should have splashed out on the Shinkansen this time.  Oh well, we're almost back to Shinjuku now, and it's given me time to work on this blog.

The final flavor in my sampler of cities is Matsumoto.  I argued with myself as to whether or not to spend the time and money to see Matsumoto.  The main draw there was their castle, which unlike most of the castles I've seen, is black, and yes, that IS a legit reason to want to see a castle.

But when I went looking for what else there was going on in Matsumoto, I found out they had an exhibition of Kusama Yayoi's art...which I'll talk about in a later post.  Suffice it to say that this was enough to decide it for me, since her museum in Tokyo is still sold out three months in advance.  Instead, I want to take a break here to talk about food. I'm giving my very brief time in Matsumoto top honors, because it had something that none of the other places I visited had - easy access to fast food.  When I walked out of Matusmoto Station McDonald's was waiting right across the street.  Macca's is my breakfast of choice when I'm traveling, mostly because I'm lazy AF and usually it's convenient.  Not so on this trip - there NEVER seemed to be one close by.  Since it was too late for breakfast, I stopped for lunch at the Coco Curry that was just around the corner before hoofin' it up the street to the art museum.  This had been another rarity, even though in Tokyo I can almost use it as a landmark.  Which just goes to show that traveling is all well and good, but sometimes it's just nice to stay home.