Art
Ozu Yasujiro 小津安二郎 and Hara Setsuko 原節子
Every director has his/her muse, and what’s more perfect than the pair Ozu and Hara? The famous “Noriko trilogy” is the fruit of their decade long partnership on examining the intricacy in parental-child relationships. From the warm-hearted daughter who didn’t want to leave her widowed father in Early Spring, to the dependable daughter-in-law who saw through the stark reality in Tokyo Story, to the gentle-manner yet strong-willed daughter in Early Summer, Hara played the role like she was them, never too forceful or too detached from the character. What I like most about Ozu is that he was never judgmental or condescending to his characters or societal change, and he never used sentimental ploys to manipulate viewers’ feelings. Perhaps that’s best expressed in the closing dialog in Tokyo Story when the youngest daughter complained to Hara (sister-in-law) about their siblings, and Hara just said calmly, “Perhaps one day I would be like that too, it can’t be helped.” I don’t think it is a sense of withdrawal or pessimism, but rather an acceptance of reality and a strive to live on regardless of the condition one is thrown into.
Naruse Mikio 成瀬巳喜男
Even though he is not as famous as the big ones like Kurosawa, Ozu and Mizuguchi, Naruse is an expert in a particular genre: the mutual torture and gradual breakdown of family relationships. It’s hard to not feel heart wretching when watching his masterpiece Ukigumo, in which the characters just sank into a downward spiral in a hopeless relationship. Or Sound of the Mountain, in which suppressed emotions were gently revealed and untangled so one can finally see a new vista.
Bando Tamasaburo V 五代目 坂東玉三郎
The most accomplished living onnagata (female role specialist) in Kabuki today. He was the spark for many of my trips and really deserves a separate writeup!
Sawai Kazue 沢井一恵
I was introduced to Sawai-sensei by listening to the Seattle koto player Elizabeth Falconer in local cafes in the early 2000s. My first live performance of Sawai-sensei was in the Cornish College in 2006. I’ve listened to koto music from CD and Elizabeth’s live performances, but the 1st exposure to Sawai-sensei was a total shock. I’d describe her as the rock musician in koto, as she played her late husband Sawai Tadao’s pieces with an explosive kind of vigor and energy. Watching and listening close, I felt like I was in a rock concert listening to a guitar solo with a high-vibe plucking that’s like tearing everything down!
Thanks to Oregon Koto Kai (a school of the Sawai lineage), I was blessed to attend Sawai-sensei’s live performance again in 2019. She was as energetic as ever, and a pre-show lecture gave us a better look into her musical world, as well as a chance to play a bit of koto under her students’ guidance.
Buddhist Statues 仏像
I’m not overly religious, but every time I came across a temple or shrine in my travel, I can’t resist going in and take a look. The serene setting, and in temples, the meticulously crafted statues usually calm my racing mind. It’s like taking a sip of cool green tea when trekking, and let my overdriven mind be soothed so I can look at things at a slower pace. Not to mention that the statues all varied in design, craft and symbolic meaning, depending on the lineage and historical setting when they were made. This makes admiring Buddhist statues a window into studying Japan’s history and aesthetics.
Of all the statues I’ve seen, the Miroku Bodhisattva (Hōkan Miroku 宝冠弥勒) in Koryuji, Kyoto touched me the most. It was an icon of the Buddha in his princely days, when he was contemplating the meaning of life and sufferings. The gentle and refined temperament seems to ask me to slow down, and the deep introspective posture looks like a moment from eternity has been frozen, so we can all share this slice of time together. Thank you to the busshi (仏師) who carved this statue, you’ve taught me what compassionate thinking is. 
photo credit: Ogawa Seiyō, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
Woodprints by Kawase Hasui 川瀬巴水
Beyond the usual contenders in woodprints such as Hiroshige and Hokusai, Kawase Hasui is a modern (early 20th century) master who created still serene prints around Japan when the country was entering an era of rapid changes. In addition to documenting changes in Tokyo and the big cities, Kawase travelled extensively around the country to capture fishing villages, onsen towns and natural landscapes. Of all his prints, I particularly enjoy the night scenes he made, as they have a kind of photographic ambience that jumps out from a 2D print. When I see his prints in a gallery, it feels like I can touch the rain drops and hear the sound of gently breeze in the villages at twilight.
