green paint

Ramen Jiro. I've eaten there six times in the last four months, and I know what I'm talking about. I live about a 01:45 min walk from Ramen Jiro.

Ramen Jiro
ラーメン次郎


Take a good look. See the pile of shaved raw garlic on the left? See the huge pile of bean sprouts covering the generous portions of melty melty sliced pork? Can you make out the homemade noodles in all their thick gloriousness?

I though I'd eaten lots of good ramen since I've been coming to Japan, but I was mistaken.
Ramen Jiro.
If there was one ramen that would make world peace, it is Ramen Jiro.
Ramen Jiro.
It is worth the 10-15 min wait in line.
Ramen Jiro.
Never mind the suspicious white powder they sprinkle in the broth.
Personally, I think the white powder is cocaine - that would explain the euphoria following a bowl of Ramen Jiro.
And also the fact that it's hard to go a month without going to Ramen Jiro at least once.

Ramen Jiro beaks the law. It is illegal for restaurants in Japan to serve food that is too delicious - that's why other ramen places aren't as good: they obey the law.
But not Ramen Jiro.

Go to Meguro and eat Ramen Jiro.

Ramen Jiro.

Yes, Ramen Jiro.

I like this article
http://www.avantnews.com/news/315709-study-finds-less-to-be-less-not-more-than-more

Although I still often find that less is indeed, more.

I am offically a company employee for Pacific Arts Center, or PAC. http://www.pacnet.co.jp/

I am in the lighting division, posted for a few months at the Saitama Kaikan Theatre untill training is finished, and they will probably put me somewhere like Ninagawa`s Art Theatre or the National Theatre of Japan, where many overseas performers come and I can interpret.

How they do lighting is so different from the West that almost the only points of comparison are the artistic sensibilities of designers.

As you know, in Japan when one becomed a company employee, one really `becomes` the company, and must owe loyalty and sweat to the company, which, like a loving parent, doles out rewards and punishments. Even in the theatre world, it is like this.

But I will still produce and dance. Also writing many plays.

My computer`s AC port finally died. Considering a new computer with my bonus pay. I liked that Powerbook a lot though, if it wasn`t for the AC port, it would still last a good many years.

I will be getting a cute little bird as a pet. I can't wait. Pictures soon.

Updated my website. It is now more bilingual and includes more details about all my work, cast lists, etc.
http://ruinedmap.org

Just finished being the ASM for the Japanese tour of this show:





Now the South Africans are gone, hopefully I'll see them again next year!

I've seen alot of theatre in the past several weeks:

Four butoh shows (three by Dairakudakan)
Two Noh performances (and a Kyogen as well)
Twice going to Taishuu Engeki,
And a five hour engagement at the Kabuki-za.

On Monday I went to the 11am-4pm Kabuki-za morning slot, then quickly went to see Taishuu Engeki from 5pm to 8:30pm, which equals 8.5 hours of theatre in one single day!

I have a performance lined up in Kashiwa on the third of October. The Japanese grandmother of one of my most dedicated dancers in Hawai'i pulled some strings to get us a slot in what I thought was a kind of arts festival. Now as the date approaches, I have learned that we will perform for the Kashiwa "Night of Nations," which will feature different traditional dances from all over the world. My piece is second and for some reason, represents "America".

Now, I'm all for Night of Nations type international festivals, but I seriously doubt the appropriateness of my piece in this context. We perform after the Thai dancers, in a crowded gym, with booths and food kiosks surrounding the space. Not a place there my work will exactly flourish. My work is not traditional dance, does not seek to please audiences in zing-pow! ways. So October approaches, and so does my apprehension.

Well, my play is finished. Somehow, it turned into an opera. I've sent it to a few friends.
This time around, I have no intention of directing my play. I'd perhaps choreograph it -and lighting -

The new title became "The Night Sky," which, given the elegy at the end, makes sense.

Well, I'm writing a new play. It is an erotic play written in verse.
The tentative title was "My red moon"
but I feel that title is not quite it...

Here's Scene one - - if you care to give some feedback I'd love to hear from you!

Scene one

Well, in order to make myself more attractive to the Extra and Gaikokujin talent agencies here, Jyunko's and my friend Reiko took a bunch of photos:





To look at more please go
here

Well, Jyunko and I found a nice apartment in Meguro - Meguro 3 chome to be exact. It's an unbelievably cheap rent for the area and size of the place, but quite nice with two rooms (one Japanese style) plus kitchen, wood floors, quiet, and close to the Meguro stop on the Yamanote line.

Meguro is a great area. Eminently livable, lots of art and parks, and has a strangely arty feel despite its being right in the thick of Tokyo.

I got my work visa the other day, and now I'm casting around for a job that isn't teaching English.

If you're in town, give me a message, and we could meet.

I am officially graduated from UH with an MFA in Asian Performance.
Yes yes yes! I did it.

Look at how happy I am:

When Natsume Soseki, Murakami Haruki, or Oe Kenzaburo write novels, the fact that they were born and raised in Japan inevitably informs their work in terms of content, theme, and setting. Similarly, Jorge Amado's works are unquestionably Brazilian, Hesse's German, and Fitzgerald's American.

If I were to write a novel, I would be at quite a loss as to what kind of cultural contexts to place it in: I lived in Brazil but fourteen years, and in America but fourteen years. Never truly comfortable in America with its opportunistic and entertaining ways (what a culture shock for fourteen year old me), and yet not quite versed in Brazilian ways (including the Brazilian need to suppress empathy to be able to handle the devastating and prevalent poverty visible every day), I often feel somewhat stranded – inasmuch as both Brazil and America are in the West. My studies of Japanese culture have had a decidedly soothing effect on me, but I have no need to become Japanese or claim myself to be "actually" Japanese.

Yet there was no conscious decision on my part to create acultural work. Rather, it was a quite natural artistic instinct that has led to the shape of my work. When people see my dance works and label them "Butô," a dance form that originated in Japan, most assume that what I do is some kind of Japanese dance. I cannot stress enough the solo effort that had gone into my work well before I had learned the word "Butô". After being labelled and then researching the thesis of the form, I decided to call my work "Butô" after all. This gave me a feeling of legitimacy, and an easy answer to the question "what kind of dance do you do?" If we accept Iwana Masaki's definition of Butô, then I have indeed few compunctions about calling my work Butô:

While 'Ankoku Butô' can be said to have possessed a very precise method and philosophy (perhaps it could be called 'inherited Butô'), I regard present day Butô as a 'tendency' that depends not only on Hijikata's philosophical legacy but also on the development of new and diverse modes of expression.
The 'tendency' that I speak of involved extricating the pure life which is dormant in our bodies. (37)

However I think to most laymen and even most theatre specialists, if I call my work "Butô," their perception would be that I am implying that I have learned most of my methods from others, and that what I do is "Japanese".

After three years here in Hawai'i and watching various people's "fusion" attempts with Asian forms, I am forced to conclude that I am quite conservative in this area. It is a harsh thing for me to say, but watching people's shallow orientalism has really turned me pessimistic about their merit as artists. I now cringe when I hear this word "fusion". The good fusion work I've seen has always been more than the mere shapes and forms onstage: they have been imbued with vision – making them much more than the sum of their parts. It would seem that successful fusion combines forms and methods to create something new, and full of the artistic breath of the director.

As for bad fusion: it is not enough to copy Asian postures or vocalizations and simply overlay Western elements. Nor it is enough to merely overlay Asian elements onto an essentially Western performance. (I use these words "Asian" and "Western" as generalities to make my discussion easier, I have no intent to stereotype or overly simplify.) If good fusion cuisine depends on the sensibility of a chef who truly understands the ingredients he combines, so does fusion theatre necessitate a director with good vision. This seems like a self-evident truth, but my experiences at UH have taught me that even the most offensive and orientalist fusion works can be defendable from an intellectual and artistic standpoint by a solipsistic director. There are no standards, and hence my pessimism about how much of the artist is present in some theatre artists.

So let me return to my newfound conservatism. Some voices call for a reform of Noh so that the form becomes more accessible to audiences today. Certainly, it is a fine thing to experiment with the form in contemporary ways, but it must be recognized that any new form arising from these experiments would differ enough from traditional Noh as to merit a different term.

Part of my conservatism stems from the fact that I believe that traditional Noh, performed in an accessible language, would be relevant to audiences today if those audiences had some education and open minds. When we lament how short attention spans have become, we are doing a disservice to our audiences. Audiences are capable of paying attention to something for more than fifteen minuets.

If we changed Noh to pander to audiences today, what a spiritual loss to those same audiences who have the latent possibility in their minds to enjoy and be moved by the special atmosphere that Noh strives to create. When we create this imaginary audience with short attention spans and strive to satisfy them, we are essentially shaping real audiences to fit this model, perpetuating a cycle. (There are whole books on marketing and advertising that explain this phenomenon.) Of course, I mean to use Noh as an example, but we could easily substitute Jingju or any other form, including modern ones, in place.

As artists and as educators, it is our duty to foster not neccesarialy a musty appreciation for the old-fashioned, but an open mindedness towards the masterpieces of yore as well as an interest in the experiments of today.

Tasmania is really cold, but the work Jyunko, Gwen and I did there was really good. I met the India bureau chief from UNESCO - she really liked my approach to dance, and gave me her card.

In "Tassie" I saw all the stereotypical but cool sights, and also Tasmanian devils, Kangaroos, Wallabies, Wombats, etc..
I was quite surprised at how incredibly cheap food there was, less than a fifth the price here in Honolulu. Also, the quiet pace of life was nice. The students at the U Tas Launceston were super, and they really treated us as though we were seasoned professionals, making the most of us being there to ply us with questions about theatre and dance. Our hosts were super nice as well.

On another note, I got hit on (in obvious, arm stroking hard to miss ways) by cute Tassie girls so many times, right with Jyunko standing right beside me!

one of the important things that Jyunko has taught me, and that I've further cogitated upon, is that the sensitive are stronger than the insensitive.

While it may seem like a contradiction that those people especially sensitive to violence, bad or unkind human interactions, etc., would be stronger that those who don't let such things bother them - the very fact of their sensitivity, understanding, empathy, and overwrought experiences brings them a strength that insensitive people can never have.

Some of these oversensitive types end up becoming hysterical and totally unable to function. There are several members of my own family who didn't have the strength to overcome this world, and have ended up being very selfish and hysterical indeed.

Other sensitive people retreat into the twin refuges of sarcasm and bitterness - a shield against the world and their own feelings. I think it is truly sad when someone with the sensitivity to truly bring light into this world ends up only promogulating an insensitive and unempathic world view.

And those who keep their wits about them, live and love healthily from day to day to year after year - the souls that represent human progress and the eventual end of strife and needless violence - do not shirk your feelings! You will save the world.


The truly brave are soft of heart and eyes, and feel for what their duty bids them do.

The truly brave,
When they behold the brave oppressed with odds,
Are touched with a desire to shield and save:--
A mixture of wild beasts and demi-gods
Are they--now furious as the sweeping wave,
Now moved with pity; even as sometimes nods
The rugged tree unto the summer wind,
Compassion breathes along the savage mind.

-Lord Byron (Don Juan)

Yang Ming bought some Durian wafers to store in my freezer.
Now everything in my freezer stinks of Durian!

I bought a wetshirt for snorkeling. Now I won't freeze when going night snorkeling or early, early morning snorkeling. I get way too cold out there. Last time I was shivering afterwards for nearly an hour and a half, while most everyone around me felt fine. I guess I'm sensitive to the cold water.

Here's some nice night snorkelling pics that Alan took last time I went with him.

Yang Ming's girlfriend gave me a nickname, "Niao rhen"　鳥人 which is Chinese for "bird man" because I'm tall.

Yesterday I finally felt I could eat, so I downed a double rack burger at James' birthday party. His nickname is "jowza" which means "gyoza" or dumpling. That burger was good! First solid food in 8 days.

Noh rehearsal is as intense as ever; learning all the Ootsudzumi patterns is not too bad, but rehearsing till 11pm every night makes my hand (that hits the drum) hurt. This is literally the biggest role I've ever had on a production not my own, and the most to memorize on a show not my own. Now I know the feelings of actors who play title roles in plays like Hamlet.

At the dentist today the nurses were giggling because last week I was apparently mumbling in Japanese when coming out of the general anesthetic.

I haven't been posting at all lately, but I feel I'd like to begin regular posting again. Sometimes I wonder if anyone reads, or cares about this blog. But such concerns should be minimal.

I've really enjoyed reading my friends blogs over the past months, even though my comments are few.

One week ago, all my wisdom teeth were removed at once. Ouch! I'm still not able to eat most solid foods. I had no idea it was such a traumatic surgery. I developed a fever, and had to stay in bed for a few days. My (new) boss forced me to work last week, and I think that stress has been preventing me from healing quickly.

I think I will buy FFIV for my DS today.

The "not solid" diet as mostly included instant soup (me not being energetic enough to cook), and I feel that I've had too much sodium, then. I'm trying to cut back on sodium and eat many leafy greens and beets to get back my health. I'm quite enamored of collard greens with beets lately.