MOVING ON UP… THIS BLOG HAS MOVED!

I’d like to take this opportunity to announce a momentous technical and logistical triumph. My blog has officially been moved and is now integrated into lydonphoto.com. Okay, it wasn’t that much of a triumph, but it’s nice to have everything in one place now.

The new blog address is www.lydonphoto.com/theblog/

 
All of the new blog posts will be there from now on, as well as the archived material.

Thanks for reading everyone!

Silver

Flute case in hand, I took another look at the scribbled directions and made my way from Kannai Station, down an alleyway that, in the U.S., most would consider uncomfortably dark. The only source of light was from a “Calpis” beverage vending machine. A Japanese mecca for instant liquid fulfillment, inside the machine were cold cans of soda, warm plastic bottles of tea, and piping hot cans of sweet coffee. At night, similar machines announced themselves in the same way on nearly every street corner, urban and suburban. I looked at my watch. Ten minutes to seven. Better not to blow any of that sugary crap into my flute. I put a 100 yen coin in and got a cold bottle of water.

At the front door of the prefectural government practice hall, a security guard stood and stared at me from inside his booth, blinking a few times as I smiled at him.

“Pa-to-ri-ku-ri-do-n”. I hadn’t been practicing my Japanese lately, so my name in Japanese syllables was all I could come up with.

The guard looked at his clipboard and scratched his head for a moment before his nearly-closed eyes popped to life. The short, cute, elderly man hurried out from behind his glass barrier and bowed, quickly, slightly, pointing down a set of stairs.

“Yoko-kyo? o-lukey-stula?” He nodded at me.

A few seconds of gears turning and I responded “hai,” bowed awkwardly, and hurried down the stairs, taking a seat in the very back of the rehearsal room, past the last row of violins and french horns.

I observed.

From the back of the room, Maestro Kazuhiro stood waist-deep in a sea of black hair; his own short, lanky body and strong cut, yet drooping facial features were topped with a magnificent unwieldy mess of silver hair. I think, If you were to see him outside of this room — perhaps in a subway train filled with other black-suited, briefcase-toting salary men — he might look somehow out of place. Admittedly, his attire would be the same as any other man; it was his face that was perhaps overly bitter in its relaxed state. I pictured Kazuhiro san walking along the streets of Yokohama, vulnerable to those who did not understand his artform. During most waking hours, the inhabitants of the city moved like the wind and I could see them striking him, hard, crisp, and sufficiently chilled, wrapping around his body, through his black wool overcoat, penetrating him to the bone.

In the rehearsal room however, downstairs in the basement of a Kanagawa governmental building, he was Kazuhiro san the Maestro and his face and body came alive: grimacing, winking, flailing, eyes sparkling as he waved his baton fiercely and rapidly.

Up! Down! Out! The motion would go, each time with more and more urgency as the orchestra surged, layered, grew out in every way. His motions seemed to pull sound outward, and then he would reach, delicately stretch, and flick it back. It’s as if the sounds were a pulsing bubble, growing, ever more magnificent, his job to expand it yet make sure it didn’t… POP! went a sound and the whole ensemble stopped abruptly. The black sea of heads tilted up to meet his critical, if now slightly sleepy gaze.

Something had gone wrong in the piece, the bubble had burst. It was apparent that Kazuhiro-san held himself partially responsible. In fact, it may be said that all of the orchestra members, mistake or not, held themselves responsible too. There was immediate tension and subsequent attention.

“DeeeDaaDeeeDaa” he mimicked the phrase the orchestra has just played, cocking his head to one side, he added a slew of Japanese, none of which I understood.

Straightening his head and raising his chin, Kazuhiro fixed his gaze on the imaginary point where the bubble had been. He repeated his musical mimicry, although slightly different this time “DeeeDADeeeDA” he said.

The sea of black heads nodded in agreement.

His baton came up.

The sea of black heads tilted down.

They began the section over.

DeeeDADeeeDA, it went.

 

By The Numbers: Tokyo Metro vs. San Jose Light Rail

It’s slightly unfair to pit the most voluminous metro system in the world against one from a city built largely for individual automotive transportation, but it provides an amazing sense of scale. In this by the numbers, I’ll compare rail transit systems in San Jose / Santa Clara County, vs. rail systems in the Tokyo Metro area.

Tokyo and San Jose urban rail transit systems (P. Lydon, 2010)

Keep in mind the population difference of Tokyo Metropolitan Area (30 million) vs Santa Clara County (2 million).

Tokyo Metro Rail Systems

Riders Per Year: 7.3 Billion
Riders Per Day: 20 Million
Miles of Track: 1,779

Santa Clara County VTA Light Rail

Riders Per Year: 10 Million
Riders Per Day: 22,000
Miles of Track: 42

The Tokyo Metro rail system serves an estimated 20 million people each day. Yes, 20 million, every DAY.

To put that into perspective, they city of San Jose, California’s light rail system serves around 10 million per year. You read that correctly: Tokyo’s metro rail system has twice as many riders per day as San Jose does in an entire year. Of course, it’s an unfair fight, but it is also a good way of showing the immense density of this place called Tokyo, as well as their extreme reliance on public transportation.

I’ll end with this interesting fact: Did you know that San Jose had a comprehensive metro rail system 30 years before Tokyo built their first metro line? More on that next time…

A Slice of Poverty in Japan

Japan is a country which is seen by much of the world as clean, prosperous, and largely without homeless. And from most points of view, it really does fit most of that description. But it is also true that some of the problems which do exist here are far less visible than they are in the United States, Europe, or other developed areas of the world.

To be very clear, there are homeless in Tokyo, and many of them: in run-down parks, subway tunnels, and under bridges.

Then there are those living near the poverty line so to speak, who live in buildings akin to the ‘projects’ as they would be called in the U.S. These buildings exist in Japan in various forms, and here they are a unique and often complicated representation of poverty in one of the word’s most wealthy nations.

warnings, curiously stating something to the effect of : building condemned, keep out… unless you live here

Two of my good friends, Yuu and Takeo, took me on a walk through one of Yokohama’s largely abandoned apartment complexes. The structure was completely worn down, and looked as if it were abandoned decades ago.

The entrance was blocked off with warnings, curiously stating something to the effect of “building condemned, keep out… unless you live here”. Inside, several of the dwellings were indeed still receiving electricity and mail service.

The front door to an abandoned apartment unit in Yokohama, Japan. Many of the doors had towels stuffed in the small window openings and mail slots. (P. Lydon, 2010)

Bottom floor of the largely abandoned apartment complex in Yokohama, Japan (P. Lydon, 2010)

One hallway view, a few of the floors had working lighting. (P. Lydon, 2010)

A few of the floors were completely dark... as was this 4th floor hallway. (P. Lydon, 2010)

Empty street outside the apartment complex. The large red and white sign reads 'Yamaha Piano', where a store used to occupy the ground level. (P. Lydon, 2010)

A few of the apartments had notes from friends, for the mailman, or warnings from the electric company. (P. Lydon, 2010)

A man stands at the bottom of a dark stairwell near the top floor of the old complex. (P. Lydon, 2010)

More than a few times I heard from Japanese locals how ‘it is so easy to become homeless’ when living in the Tokyo Metropolitan area. To clarify, they meant that it is easy to go from having a job to ending up on the street with no income and no home. The view of the economy here mirrors that of many wealthy nations: a vehicle which can take many people to where they want, but which swerves along a winding road, has no seat belts, and hosts riders piled atop, holding on to what they can and hoping not to fall off.

Perhaps a slightly dire view, but in Japan, many of the people who fall off are already living in places such as this before it happens. After this it’s the park, or the stairwell if you are lucky.

I asked if the building was officially abandoned, and if it were, why there were people still receiving electricity and mail.

The answer was that it’s a slightly complicated process to label and deal with an ‘abandoned’ building in Japan. Older apartment complexes such as this one may have one or two people still paying rent, and are technically ‘inhabited’, yet housing laws in Japan make it difficult for landlords to evict those tenants who are technically paying some type of rent. As a result, buildings such as this can stay in a dilapidated state of limbo for decades as host to one or two stubborn tenants, and any number of squatters.

Musing #5: Sakura Season

A crisp, yet gentle breeze sneaks up from the sea surface and a handfull of sakura explode overhead.

They float gently to the grass below, accompanied by a hush of voices, then laughter, and chatting.

The uniform dance repeats all afternoon, robotic like a stream of Japanese schoolkids, walking in step with crisp sailor uniforms and dwarfing black leather backpacks, yet still organic, as individual as the wide-eyed grins on each of their faces .

Every time this explosion repeats feels like a warm blanket, wrapping everything around you with pink specs of cherry blossom.

The small, silky soft petals carry infinitely more energy when they are afloat. It’s as if that is their one moment, a year’s worth of  developing, of waiting. It suddenly all pays dues in a brilliant display of natural energy.

A cherry tree in blossom against Landmark Tower in Yokohama, Japan. (P. Lydon, 2010)

Minatomirai / Bashamichi by Night

A new photograph from my continuing NightLight series, first shown at the awesome Koji Sake Lounge in San Jose, California. Taken in the hours before dawn when few people walk about the streets, NightLight portrays an eerily serene side of the urban cityscape. Images in this series are stitched from multiple exposures, creating very large digital negatives, often in excess of 100 megapixels.

This photograph was taken in Yokohama, Japan’s Bashamichi / Minatomirai 21 district.

Yokohama's Lanmark Tower watches over a desolate Bashamichi street at night (P.Lydon, 2010)

JR Pass Destination: Miyajima Island

If you are staying in Hiroshima and have the JR pass, a short train ride and a ferry will get you to the lush, picturesque, deer heaven that is Miyajima Island for free. Of course, you may still have to pay for the streetcar in Hiroshima…

A street trolley in Hiroshima, Japan

Miyajima Island is, according to the Japanese Government’s completely objective rating system, one of the ‘top 3 scenic spots in Japan’. They seem to do this type of thing a lot as my next destination, Okayama, has the ’3rd most beautiful garden’ in Japan. These designations may seem slightly silly, but they are important points of pride in the community where the landmarks exist.

In this case,  I would also have to agree that Miyajima Island is an amazingly beautiful place with a great feeling about it. The deep, dark forests that line the hillsides leading up to Mt. Misen are punctuated every now and then with bright green patches, and a light eternal mist seems to hang over many of the small valleys.

Miyajima Island view from the JR ferry

In the town, deer roam freely and act nearly like domesticated pets. They also have a hankering for anything edible, including tourist maps. I was lucky, this one only took a bite out of the ocean…

Maps are a staple of the Miyajima deer diet

The deer on Miyajima think they own the place. Then again, maybe they do.

The walk/hike route I chose wandered through town and up to the top of Mt. Misen. The first stop is the shopping street, a classic feeling small-town walkway covered by cloth to protect from the elements.

The main Miyajima Shopping Street

The further you get from the town and dock, the more sparse groups of schoolchildren and tourists become. Nature begins to take over from here on and Miyajima Island becomes a strangely intoxicating thing to see, feel, hear, and smell. In comparison to the number of people on the island at any one time, very few people actually hike to the mountain top, but the transitions from tourist town, to quiet village, to deep forest, to mountain top are just too incredible to miss out on.

Small canal makes its way from Mt. Misen to the ocean

A deer strolls lazily by the picturesque Itsukushima Shrine

My hiking buddies on the way up to Mt. Misen

A southern Miyajima Island view from Mt. Misen

Kana and Asami take in the view of Miyajima Island from Mt. Misen

Waterfall at Momijidani Park on Miyajima Island

One of the specialties of the island are handmade wooden rice spatulas. Cool to be sure, but lets face it, I was more interested in what you make with cooking utensils than the utensils themselves. I made my way straight for the Miyajima Steamed Buns, mine was filled with tender beef and sauce. On the way back down, I sampled some deep fried red-bean and custard cakes, called ‘Age Momiji’.

Delicious Miyajima Steamed Buns!

Fried Age Momiji comes with various fillings including sweet red bean paste and custard

Right on the other side of the shopping street is the famous floating tori or ‘gate’ and Itsukushima Shrine. The gate and shrine have been at the same site — in various incarnations — since 593 or thereabouts. The floating tori, is not actually floating, but standing upon the sea floor. Waiting around for low tide provides a full view of the tori, and often a more peaceful one as the island shops close up around 5pm and all of the tour and school groups pack up and head out.

The night brings a light drizzle of rain to Miyajima Island, Itsukushima Shrine is seen in the distance

Detail of the barnicles that cling to Itsukushima Shrine in Miyajima

The 'floating' Itsukushima Shrine is revealed at low tide

I left the island just around dusk, when the lanterns that line the coast come to life, and only locals and a few scattered island hotel guests roam the streets.It’s mostly comforting to stand and take it in… well, except for the thought of the last ferry leaving!

One of the many lanterns that line the coast of Miyajima Island

JR Pass Destination: Okayama

Things seemed to come in threes on this week long shinkansen trip.

My fifth stop was Okayama,  the sister city to my home town, San Jose, CA, U.S.A. and it was for me a single night stop in between Hiroshima and Nara.

On my first night, a very kind husband and wife couple, who I met quite randomly upon my arrival, took me out for a night of Izakaya food/drinks and cake. How amazing are these people!?

My Okayama hosts for the night, Taka and Sayaka (2010 P. Lydon)

That night in the izakaya, I was again amazed at the kindness of the people in Okayama overall, and the connection that a room full of random people (some were obviously regulars) had with eachother. As my hosts, Taka and Sayaka, mentioned, this place is a typical “old style” Japanese food pub where most tables are communal and everyone just sits down, eats, drinks, and makes friends. It was an excellent experience!

A local food/pub (aka Izakaya) in Okayama, Japan (2010 P. Lydon)

"Instant Izakaya Friends" in Okayama, Japan

The next morning I wandered around the train station to scout out some breakfast, and I came upon the Okayama NHK television studio. Curious, I walked in quietly and watched as they were preparing for a broadcast. Within a few minutes I was approached by a smiling on-air personality, Yusuke Naito. He showed me a bit of the studio and told me to come back to watch the broadcast. I happily accepted.

Okayama NHK Broadcast

Me and the most beautiful man and woman in Okayama, the NHK news anchors

A worthwhile few hours, but my aim for the day was breakfast and then a walk around Okayama’s famous Koraku-en gardens. So I headed out to find the next bus to the castle/garden area, a short trip north of Okayama station.

While I was at it, I quickly noticed that the trains and buses here are much more of an adventure than those in Tokyo/Yokohama, or even any of the other places I visited. No “romanji” to help you here! I’d usually just go for it (and most likely get lost), but since I was short on time I asked for help and was pointed to the correct bus, fare amount, and time.

Transit Map on a bus in Okayama, Japan (2010 P. Lydon)

I made it out on the rather soggy day to see a splendid Okayama Castle and Koraku-en. The castle was immaculate, although that is possible because it was reconstructed after being annihilated in a WWII bombing raid.

The Koraku-en gardens were quite large, very well taken care of, and an amazingly peaceful place to walk, sit, relax amidst the city. Park-goers on this particular day included a handful of foreign tourists with cameras in hand, hundreds of school children running around and giggling in groups, and a good number of folks who seemed more like locals. The latter could be found walking at a casual place and enjoying the (relative) peace of the place.

Korakuen in Okayama, Japan (2010 P. Lydon)

The day had to come to an end, however, as I had a few trains ahead of me in order to make it to Nara. That’s next up.

Japan Musing #3: Subway

Musing #3

Four escalator lanes at Oedo Line’s Shinjuku-Nishiguchi station.

For some reason, I can’t help but picture one of them as a slide. I wonder…

4-Lane Escalator in Shinjuku

Writings from Hiroshima

I arrived in Hiroshima today and visited the A-Bomb Dome and Peace Park. No photos. Amongst the throngs of tourists posing in front of the a-bombed building ruins, I didn’t feel the wish to take any.

I did, however write down some passages from Hiroshima a-bomb survivors, the following are quotes from these passages. Difficult to read, and write down. I can still picture the photos of previously young, bright men and women, and remains of nearly-obliterated clothing that accompanied these passages.

If you haven’t been, and don’t plan to visit Hiroshima or Nagasaki, I would encourage you to read this entry… why this type of thing is not public-school-required reading, I really don’t know.

Yoneda, Mitsuyoshi
1.7km from ground-zero

When I awoke, I was several meters from where I stood during the blast. I crawled up a river bank and came upon another worker. His face had disintegrated beyond recognition. Only after hearing his voice did I realize that he was my friend… walking to escape the city, I felt something slapping at my bare chest (from which the clothes has been burnt away), when I looked down, I realized that the thing which was slapping against my chest was the skin from my face, which had been peeled back and was sagging down…

Sunada, Fusako
1km from ground-zero

I developed a fever every six months after, over half of my hair fell out. But most of those who were with me at the time died within a few days… looking around, I saw girls who once had pretty faces looking like chosts, their bodies swollen with burns. The horror of the a-bomb can only be understood by those who experienced it.

Matsuyama, Umeyo
2km from ground-zero

I was sitting on the ground, straw hat and towel over my head, arms folded on my knees. I saw a bright flash of light and felt a powerful blast, we were all blinded by dust and sand. The towel, my hat, and canvas shoes had all disintegrated in the blast, my trousers and blouse were in tatters. The skin from my elbow to my wrist was purple and blistered. Looking around me was like looking at hell on earth, people were burned on their faces and limbs… at Hijiyama park (a safe gathering spot), people nearly naked and covered in blood died, one after another. My relatively minor issues were attributed to the towel and hat, the shade over my head, and the orientation of my body at the time of the bombing. My co-workers who had been dispatched earlier than me were closer to the center, all of them were annihilated.

These are survivors who were located a mile or so from the center of the city where the bomb was dropped. The most dense part of the city was completely leveled and the estimated 70,000 people in that area died immediately or within a few days.  Another 100,000+ died as a result of lingering effects of the blast.

Although the site itself can be a depressing one, what is more depressing is seeing the continuation of the same train of thought which brought us here in the first place.

On the other hand, the actions of the citizens of this city, are a bright spot of hope for the world and one of the few things that allow people to leave Hiroshima with a smile on their face.  Perhaps more to report on that later…