Lonely Planet Tokyo

by Lonely Planet

  ASIMO robot, National Museum of Emerging Science and Innovation | COWARDLION / SHUTTERSTOCK ©

  Arts & Architecture

  Tokyo has an arts scene that is broad, dynamic and scattered – much like the city itself. It offers a beguiling blend of traditional and modern (and is rivalled only by Kyoto for position as Japan's centre of arts and culture). Highlights include the city's contemporary art museums and those devoted to Tokyo's signature visual art form, ukiyo-e (woodblock prints), its old-world kabuki stage and the fascinating creations of Japan's 20th-century architects, which line many a downtown street.

  Performing Arts

  Tokyo, when it was Edo (1600–1868), had a rich theatre culture. Above all, there was kabuki, captivating, occasionally outrageous and beloved by the townspeople – and still performed today at the city's dedicated kabuki theatre. Other classical forms that appear regularly on Tokyo stages include nō, a centuries-old dramatisation of the aesthetic quality yūgen (subtle, elusive beauty); and rakugo, a form of comedic monologue, which was a popular diversion for the working classes of Edo.

  Theatre in Tokyo today doesn't have the same sway over audiences that it did in centuries past – much to the lament of those involved. The city has a baffling number of theatres, though many stage mostly Western works in translation (especially musicals) or unchallenging performances starring celebrities from film and television. There is an active fringe scene, one that has supported some compelling, introspective and daring playwrights, though this is difficult to access without some Japanese-language ability. One contemporary movement that fortunately requires no language comprehension is butō, a style of dance that is raw, electrifying and often unsettling.

  Every November, Tokyo's month-long theatre festival, Festival/Tokyo (http://festival-tokyo.jp/en), takes place in venues around the city. In addition to new works from Japanese theatre troupes, works from around the world (and particularly Asia) are performed, sometimes with English subtitles.

  Kabuki

  Kabuki reached its golden age in Edo, but got its start in Kyoto. Around the year 1600, a charismatic shrine priestess led a troupe of female performers in a new type of dance people dubbed ‘kabuki’ – a slang expression that meant ‘cool’ or ‘in vogue’ at the time. The dancing – rather ribald and performed on a dry riverbed for gathering crowds – was also a gateway to prostitution, which eventually led the Tokugawa establishment to ban the female performers. Adolescent men took their place, though they too attracted amorous admirers (who engaged in the occasional brawl with competing suitors). Finally, in 1653, the authorities mandated that only adult men with shorn forelocks could perform kabuki, which gave rise to one of kabuki’s most fascinating elements, the onnagata (actors who specialise in portraying women).

  When kabuki arrived in Edo, it developed hand-in-hand with the increasingly affluent merchant class, whose decadent tastes translated into the breathtaking costumes, dramatic music and elaborate stagecraft that have come to characterise the art form. It is this intensely visual nature that makes kabuki accessible to foreign audiences – you don’t really have to know the story to enjoy the spectacle. (Tip: if you opt for the cheap seats, bring binoculars.)

  The plays draw from a repertoire of popular themes, such as famous historical accounts and stories of love-suicide. But more than by plot, kabuki is driven by its actors, who train for the profession from childhood. The leading families of modern kabuki go back many generations, as sons follow their fathers into the yago (kabuki acting house) in order to perpetuate an ancestor’s name on stage. Thus the generations of certain families (eg Bando and Ichikawa) run into the double digits. The Japanese audience takes great interest in watching how different generations of one family perform the same part. A few actors today enjoy great social prestige, with their activities on and off the stage chronicled in the tabloids.

  Though kabuki isn’t as popular as it once was, it still has its devout followers. You might be surprised to hear audience members shouting during the play. This is called kakegoe; it usually occurs during pivotal moments such as well-known lines of dialogue or mie (dramatic poses held for a pause) and expresses encouragement and delight. Actors note they miss this reinforcement when performing overseas.

  Ginza's Kabukiza, in business since 1889, is the last of Tokyo's dedicated kabuki theatres.

  Nō

  Kabuki was seen as too unrefined for the military classes (though they may have secretly enjoyed it); nō, with its roots in indigenous Shintō rituals, was considered a better match. It developed in Kyoto between 1350 and 1450. Rather than a drama in the usual sense, nō seeks to express a poetic moment by symbolic and almost abstract means: glorious movements, grand and exaggerated costumes and hairstyles, sonorous chorus and music, and subtle expression. Actors frequently wear masks while they perform before a spare, unchanging set, which features a painting of a large pine tree.

  Most plays centre around two principal characters: the shi-te, who is sometimes a living person but more often a demon or a ghost whose soul cannot rest; and the waki, who leads the main character towards the play’s climactic moment. The elegant language used is that of the court of the 14th century. (There are exceptions, like the modern nō plays penned by Mishima Yukio in the 1950s.)

  Some visitors find nō rapturous and captivating; others (including most Japanese today) find its subtlety all too subtle. The intermissions of nō performances are punctuated by kyōgen (short, lively, comic farces) – these have a more universal appeal.

  Tokyo has its own public theatre dedicated to nō, the National Nō Theater, near Harajuku; the new Ginza Six mall also has a stage. Masks and costumes are on display at the Tokyo National Museum.

  Rakugo

  While kabuki tickets now fetch a handsome price and carry an air of sophistication, rakugo has held on to its down-to-earth vibe. The performer, in a kimono, sits on a square cushion on a stage; props are limited to a fan and hand towel. The audience, too, usually sits on cushions on the floor. Some comedians specialise in classic monologues, which date to the Edo and Meiji periods; others pen new ones that address issues relevant to contemporary life. A number of famous comedians, including movie director Kitano Takeshi, have studied rakugo as part of their development.

  Rakugo is still performed regularly in Tokyo’s few remaining yose (vaudeville theatres), such as Asakusa Engei Hall. It is sometimes possible, both in Japan and abroad, to catch one of the few comedians who can perform rakugo in English, such as Katsuri Kaishi.

  Underground & Fringe

  Theatre around the world spent the 1960s redefining itself, and Tokyo was no different. The angura (underground) theatre movement saw productions take place in any space available: tents, basements, open spaces and street corners. Concurrent movements abroad, such as that of the Situationists, were clearly an inspiration, though so too was a desire to reconsider and re-evaluate just what a Japanese aesthetic should – and could – look like after a century of cultural influence from the West. For influential avant-garde playwright and director Kara Jūrō, for example, taking the stage outside was evocative of kabuki's formative years along the riverbed. The angura also gave rise to shōgeki (literally ‘small theatre’, but more like ‘fringe theatre’). Many of these theatres, active for decades, are located in Shimo-Kitazawa.

  Some current names to look for include Okada Toshiki and his troupe Chelfitsch, which earned critical acclaim for Five Days in March (Sangatsu no Itsukukan; 2004), a hyper-real portrayal of two furītā (part-time workers), holed up in a Shibuya love hotel at the start of the second Iraq War. Chelfitsch relies heavily on disjointed, hyper-colloquial language. More accessible to visitors with little or no Japanese ability are the physical, and often risqué, works of Miura Daisuke and his troupe Potudo-ru. He recently adapted his award-winning Love's Whirlpool (Ai no Uzu; 2005), set at a Roppongi swingers’ party, into a film of the same name (2014).

  Tea Ceremony

  Sadō (the way of tea) is a celebrati
on of the aesthetic principle of wabi-sabi, reached when naturalness, spontaneity and humility come together. Many Japanese art forms, including pottery, ikebana (the art of flower arranging), calligraphy and garden design, developed in tandem with the tea ceremony. A few of Tokyo’s most prestigious hotels have tearooms where ceremonies are performed in English, including the Imperial Hotel (帝国ホテル MAP GOOGLE MAP ; %03-3504-1111; www.imperialhotel.co.jp; 1-1-1 Uchisaiwai-chō, Chiyoda-ku; s/d from ¥41,580/47,350; naiWs; bHibiya line to Hibiya, exit A13); reservations are necessary. You can also see pottery associated with the tea ceremony at the Tokyo National Museum and the Hatakeyama Collection.

  Butō

  Butō is Japan’s unique and fascinating contribution to contemporary dance. It was born out of a rejection of the excessive formalisation that characterises traditional forms of Japanese dance and of an intention to return to more ancient roots. Hijikata Tatsumi (1928–86) is credited with giving the first butō performance in 1959; for more on Hijikata's life and work, see Hijikata Tatsumi and Butoh (Bruce Baird; 2012). Ōno Kazuo (1906–2010) was also a key figure.

  During a performance, dancers use their naked or seminaked bodies to express the most elemental and intense human emotions. Nothing is forbidden in butō and performances often deal with taboo topics such as sexuality and death. For this reason, critics often describe butō as scandalous, and butō dancers delight in pushing the boundaries of what can be considered beautiful in artistic performance. It’s also entirely visual, meaning both Japanese and non-Japanese spectators are on level footing.

  Dairakudakan (www.dairakudakan.com), which operates out of a small theatre in Kichijōji, west of Shinjuku, is one of the more active troupes today. You can also sometimes catch butō at the Setagaya Public Theatre.

  TIMELINE

  Arts Events

  March

  Classical-music festival Haru-sai takes place in venues around Ueno. Also: Art Fair Tokyo.

  May

  Weekend-long Design Festa is the largest art event in Asia.

  July

  The International Gay & Lesbian Film Festival screens dozens of films from Japan and around the world.

  September

  The Tokyo Jazz Festival has three days of shows by international and local stars. The year’s top animation, manga and digital installations go on display at the Japan Media Arts Festival.

  October

  Performances and larger-than-life installations hit the streets for Roppongi Art Night. Meanwhile, Tokyo International Film Festival fills Roppongi cinema screens. Alt-art event Trans Arts (www.kanda-tat.com) shines a light on east Tokyo.

  November

  Tokyo's theatre festival Festival/Tokyo, the celebration of interior design that is Tokyo Designer’s Week, and the alternative film festival Tokyo Filmex (東京フィルメックス http://filmex.net) are all on this month. Also: round two for Design Festa.

  Visual Arts

  Ukiyo-e

  Far from the nature scenes of classical paintings, ukiyo-e (woodblock prints, but literally ‘pictures of the floating world’) were for the common people, used in advertising or in much the same way posters are used today. The subjects of these woodblock prints were images of everyday life, characters in kabuki plays and scenes from the ‘floating world’, a term derived from a Buddhist metaphor for life’s fleeting joys.

  Edo’s particular ‘floating world’ revolved around pleasure districts such as the Yoshiwara. In this topsy-turvy kingdom, an inversion of the usual social hierarchies imposed by the Tokugawa shogunate, money meant more than rank, actors were the arbiters of style, and courtesans elevated their art to such a level that their accomplishments matched those of the women of noble families.

  The vivid colours, novel composition and flowing lines of ukiyo-e caused great excitement when they finally arrived in the West; the French came to dub it ‘Japonisme’. Ukiyo-e was a key influence on Impressionists and post-Impressionists (eg Toulouse-Lautrec, Manet and Degas). Yet among the Japanese, the prints were hardly given more than passing consideration – millions were produced annually in Edo, often thrown away or used as wrapping paper for pottery. For years, the Japanese were perplexed by the keen interest foreigners took in this art form.

  The Ukiyo-e Ōta Memorial Museum of Art in Harajuku has fantastic collections from masters such as Hokusai, Hiroshige and Utamaro; you can also see their works at the Tokyo National Museum. The new Sumida Hokusai Museum specialises, naturally, in works by Hokusai.

  Nihonga

  Japan has a rich history of painting (though one heavily influenced by China). Traditionally, paintings consisted of black ink or mineral pigments on washi (Japanese handmade paper) and were sometimes decorated with gold leaf. These works adorned folding screens, sliding doors and hanging scrolls; never behind glass, they were a part of daily life. Throughout the Edo period, the nobility patronised artists such as those from the Kanō school, who depicted Confucianism subjects, mythical Chinese creatures or scenes from nature.

  With the Meiji Restoration (1868) – when artists and ideas were sent back and forth between Europe and Japan – painting necessarily became either a rejection or an embracement of Western influence. Two terms were coined: yōga for Western-style works and nihonga for works in the traditional Japanese style, though in reality, many nihonga artists incorporate shading and perspective into their works, while using techniques from all the major traditional Japanese painting schools.

  The best place in Tokyo to see nihonga is the Yamatane Museum of Art in Ebisu. The National Museum of Modern Art has some important works as well.

  Superflat & Beyond

  The '90s was a big decade for Japanese contemporary art: love him or hate him, Murakami Takashi brought Japan back into an international spotlight it hadn’t enjoyed since 19th-century collectors went wild for ukiyo-e (woodblock prints). His work makes fantastic use of the flat planes, clear lines and decorative techniques associated with nihonga (Japanese-style painting), while lifting motifs from the lowbrow subculture of manga (Japanese comics).

  As much an artist as a clever theorist, Murakami proclaimed in his ‘Superflat’ manifesto that his work picked up where Japanese artists left off after the Meiji Restoration – and might just be the future of painting, given that most of us now view the world through the portals of two-dimensional screens. Murakami inspired a whole generation of artists who worked in his ‘factory’, Kaikai Kiki, and presented their works at his Geisai art fairs.

  Another name concurrent with Murakami is Nara Yoshitomo. Known for his paintings and sculptures of punkish tots with unsettling depth, Nara also found global success and recognition. You can see some of his works at A to Z Cafe in Aoyama.

  Naturally, younger artists have had trouble defining themselves in the wake of ‘Tokyo Pop’ – as the highly exportable art of the '90s came to be known. Just as artists were looking to move past questions of Japanese-ness, the March 2011 earthquake, tsunami and nuclear meltdown caused another wave of soul searching about the role of art in contemporary (and contemporary Japanese) society. Some artists addressing this include conceptual artist Tanaka Koki (named Deutsche Bank’s Artist of the Year in 2015) and the collection of irreverent pranksters known as ChimPom, who run a gallery space in Kōenji.

  Roppongi's Mori Art Museum holds a show every three years called Roppongi Crossing, featuring up-and-coming artists, that has become an important barometer of current trends. The next one is in 2019.

  Don't miss Robert Indiana's Love and Roy Lichtenstein's Tokyo Brushstrokes at Shinjuku I-Land (Nishi-Shinjuku); Miyajima Tatsuo's Counter Void and Louise Bourgeois' Maman at Roppongi Hills; and Okamoto Tarō's Myth of Tomorrow inside Shibuya Station.

  Ikebana

  What sets Japanese ikebana (literally ‘living flowers’) apart from Western forms of flower arranging is the suggestion of space and the symbolism inherent in the choice and placement of the flowers and, in some cases, bare branches. It’s not as esoteric as it sounds. Tokyo
’s classic Ohara School of Ikebana and the more avant-garde Sōgetsu Kaikan offer classes in English.

  Photography

  Photography is an important medium in modern and contemporary Japanese art – perhaps no suprise, as Japan is famous for producing cameras. However, as a new medium, it was also free from the weighted history of, for example, painting and sculpture. Japan's most well-known photographers are Moriyama Daido (b 1938) and Araki Nobuyoshi (b 1940).

  Moriyama is a tireless chronicler of Tokyo’s underbelly. His grainy, monochrome shots of Shinjuku – usually the Kabukichō red-light district – reveal a whole other side of the city. Meanwhile Araki is known for risqué, erotic images that walk that fine line between art and pornography (though his subject is often his own wife). He takes evocative (and sometimes absurdist) photos of other things too, including the streets of his hometown, Tokyo.

  Among the next generation, Honma Takashi (b 1962), a former ad man and one-time staff photographer for London magazine I-D, views urban life from a cool, oft-times distant gaze. He won acclaim for his series, Tokyo Suburbia (1998); his latest is The Narcissistic City (2016).

  The TOP Museum is the best place for photo exhibits; Fujifilm Square holds free exhibitions.

  TIMELINE

  Japanese Cinema