Kanagawa Standing Drinking Culture Talk Vol.5 “Boundary and Exchange”
2015.5.8 TEXT: Akiko Inoue PHOTO: Masamasa Nishino
Chikara FUJIWARA
Editor, critic, director of BricolaQ. Born in Kochi City in 1977. At the age of 12, he moved to Tokyo and started living alone in Tokyo. After that, he moved around a lot, and after working for a publishing company, became a freelancer. Responsible for editing Musashino Art University's public relations magazine "mauleaf" and Setagaya Public Theater "Caromag". Co-edited with Riki Tsujimoto, ``Book Guide as Architecture'' (Meigetsudo Shoten). Co-authored with Kyoko Tokunaga, ``The Strongest Theory of Theater'' (Asuka Shinsha). Currently living in Yokohama. A member of Theater Center F. In addition, he has created ``Geki Quest'' in various places where you walk around cities and peninsulas with game books in hand.
Pijin NEJI
Born in Akita Prefecture in 1980. He belonged to Dairakudakan from 2000 to 2004 and studied under Maro Akaji. Based on the unique physicality cultivated through dance, she presents solo dances that take a microscopic approach to her own body, as well as choreographed works that treat the body materially. In recent years, he has been observing the systems in which songs and dances are created, extracting elements accumulated in individuals' bodies and lives, and attempting to invent contemporary dance as a folk performing art for modern cities. In 2011, she received the Yokohama Dance Collection EX Jury Award and the Festival/Tokyo Public Entry Program F/T Award. Appearing in works by Joseph Nagy, FAIFAI, ASA-CHANG & Jilgrimage, Toshiki Okada, etc.
This time, we will be having a chat with dancer and choreographer Pijin Oshiko, set at Tachinomi Shimoda Shoten, a 2-minute walk from Tsunashima Station. Our navigator, Chikara Fujiwara, arrived the day after returning from a production stay in Manila. Nejiko was worried that Fujiwara's complexion was purple when they met, but she also said that she had an upset stomach after completing a research trip from Kyoto to South Korea to Fukuoka. The theme of Standing Drinking Culture Talk Vol. 5, brought to you by these two people who are in a state of slump, is "Borders and Exchange."
Chikara Fujiwara (hereinafter referred to as Fujiwara) : Well, it seems like Japan is already in a cooler.
Nasuko Pijin (hereinafter referred to as Nasuko) : It's quite hot today, though.
Fujiwara : Today's theme is that Nejiko crosses the boundaries between dance and theater, and also travels back and forth between Korea and Japan, so there is an image of a ``boundary'' person. Also, when you cross countries and borders, you try to survive by exchanging something, such as exchanging currency. I set this up because I wanted to hear what Mr. Oshiko thinks about such boundaries and exchanges.
Nejiko : First of all, speaking of boundaries, Chikara-san hasn't been feeling well since returning from Manila, but I've also been having stomach problems for a week now... Even though I've seen a lot of things in Korea and Kyoto, I still have trouble digesting information. After seeing contemporary art in Kyoto and the Miryang Arirang Festival in South Korea, I stopped in Fukuoka on the way to see my friend Natsuko Tezuka, a dancer, but that night I developed a high fever and threw everything I had saved into the bathroom. I threw it away. So for the past week, I've been living in a situation where there are no boundaries between my internal organs. Today, I think I'll eat rice bran pickles, take lactic acid bacteria, and talk about how to segment internal organs little by little.
Fujiwara : I see (lol)
Well then, would you like to have a toast?
Toshiko : That's right.
Cheers!
Fujiwara : Still, moving around is quite tiring, isn't it?
Nesuko : Especially since I'm someone who can only see what's right in front of me, I can't think about Tokyo when I'm working in another location. I'm currently creating works based in Tokyo, but I haven't been able to take what I did in Korea back to Tokyo and make use of it.
Fujiwara : I'm in the exact same situation. While I was in Manila, I didn't really feel like watching Japanese news.
Nesuko : So for now, let's enjoy Tsunashima to the fullest.
Fujiwara : That's right (lol)
At Shimoda Shoten, there is a tray right at the entrance, and you place what you want to eat on it and take it to the cash register.
When you order from the side dish corner in the back, the staff will warm up your food and hand it over to you.
Yakitori and other fried foods that are not on the table or in the refrigerator will be cooked and brought to you after you order.
Oshiko : I've been talking a lot about my illness, but when I was in Busan last June for a production project, I got urethritis due to stress. I feel like people in Busan are always with someone and have loose boundaries between themselves and others. Even when I wanted to think alone, someone would come into the room and say things like, ``Who do you like from AKB?'' in broken Japanese. That was quite painful. At that time, I became conscious of the boundaries between myself and others, and I thought that dance might be an artificial technique for eliminating boundaries between myself and others. I realized once again that I enjoy dance as a way to serve the place, to get involved in the movement, and to become a process of not being myself.
Fujiwara : Ah, I think I understand. There were people from Australia and America who came to Manila, and they were all sociable, so if I was working alone at a cafe, for example, they would always talk to me. It feels natural. As for Filipinos, they like to talk, so they end up talking to me (lol). But when I got sick, I thought I didn't want to speak English anymore and just left me alone...
Neji : What do you call Filipino accented English? Filipino Greek? ?
Fujiwara : The Philippines has over 7,100 islands and apparently has 172 native languages, but the one spoken in Manila is Tagalog. The Tagalog-accented English is called Taglish. Compared to Australian accents, the English of people who use Taglish is much easier to understand. English is the official language in the Philippines, but since I'm not a native speaker, I hear that people feel a little hesitant when it comes to English. It seems that this condition can often become painful, and it is called English panic.
Now, shall we go for a second drink?
Toshiko : That's good. I was curious about Gari Highball...
Fujiwara : Then I'll go to Oolong High.
"Gari Highball" is a highball topped with gari.
Toshiko : Eh! Gari was this gully! I thought you meant a crunchy highball (lol)
About accents - Tatsumi Hijikata and Shuji Terayama
Fujiwara : Continuing from what I said earlier, Filipinos can speak English very well, partly due to national policy. In other words, I always feel like I have two or more languages. That's amazing, isn't it?
Oshiko : Chikara-san, you're from Kochi, right? Are Tosa dialect and standard Japanese completely different?
Fujiwara : Ah, that's completely different. What is the difference between Akita dialect and standard Japanese?
Toshiko : Apparently, I get into intonation at a moment's notice. "Ka (ka-)" becomes "ga (nga-)". However, although it is easy to understand the distinction between accent and standard Japanese, it is actually strange to express it because accent comes first and standard language comes after (lol)
Fujiwara : Certainly. By the way, regarding the accent of Tatsumi Hijikata, a butoh dancer from Akita like you, you previously pointed out that this is the language of someone who has lost his accent.
Neji : Yes. I think Mr. Hijikata is a person who actively incorporated Tohoku. He was a very intelligent person with a background in modern dance, and he created a completely new term called ``butoh.'' It's an amazing invention, and I think they really thought it through and made a breakthrough.
Speaking of dialects, I heard that the gift of condolences at Hijikata's funeral was a recording of Hijikata's voice speaking. A company made a CD of it, and it's currently being sold at a fairly high price, and when I listened to it, I thought, ``Ah, this is the Akita dialect they're making.'' Personally, I was able to look at Mr. Hijikata, who had been deified until then, from a little distance, and it made me realize that it's okay to create something original instead of just doing "butoh." It became .
Fujiwara : I see. By the way, what about Shuji Terayama, who is also from Tohoku?
Nejiko : I don't think Mr. Terayama's accent is the one he's creating. Although I am the type that is easier to listen to than the locals,
I feel like that's different from Hijikata's type of operation. I really like the way he speaks, which is a mixture of his body movements and Tsugaru accent.
Fujiwara : This might be related to today's theme of "exchange," but when you're in a certain place, you absorb a lot of things, and when you talk to the people around you, the words you use have a lot of influence. I'll accept it, right? It's interesting to think that traces of various lands remain within individuals.
Theater as a media
Oshiko : Chikara-san, the reason you went to Manila this time was for the production of the play Quest, right?
Fujiwara : Yes. After TPAM2015, the director over there invited me to participate in a young festival called KARANABAL2015. Actually, this festival seems to be a three-year plan. This year is the first year, so I focused on research, and presented a short piece of work that was created by piecing together the footage I had shot and saved every day in Manila and the stories I had interviewed there.
Oshiko : Hey, by the way, what was the initial inspiration for Gekiquest?
Fujiwara : It all started with a request from blanClass, an art space in Idogaya. I said, ``Why don't you try something?'' (laughs) When I was little, I used to read a lot of game books, so I first thought it might be fun to play them outside. However, there are security issues in Manila, so I don't think I could do the same thing, so I thought it would be good if I could just see the city, meet people, listen to their stories, and build something from there. That's why I don't care about the format.
So, I don't know if it's something we have in common, but you've been talking a lot about "media" lately. Actually, I also think that Gekiquest is a medium. Maybe it's because I'm an editor myself, but I think Geki Quest allows me to communicate with a lot of people, and it allows me to gather a lot of things, package them, and edit them. Mr. Oshiko, what do you mean by "media"?
Nasuko : These days, so-called media are not functioning as media. Or rather, literacy is required. That's why I think theater can play this role now. I think that there is no way that what is happening in the world today does not have an effect on my body, but when I go to the theater and see a play, I feel like I can learn more about the world, just in that sense. I say media.
Fujiwara : Ah, as a reflection of today's world.
Toshiko : Yes. Even if you live without thinking about anything, there must be something written in your body, and of course it won't be conveyed even if you show it on stage, but I think there will be a production to bring it out. is. At least that's what I want to focus on.
In fact, around 2003-4, when I was desperately following the contemporary dance scene, I had a vague feeling in my head, ``I wonder what's going on in the world right now.'' The works I went to see did not refer to any social issues or carry any political messages, but by watching them I felt a sense of knowing what was going on in the world right now. It was there in me, the audience member. That's why I think the contemporary dance movements of that time played a role as a medium. At that time, I had the feeling that when I went to an ST spot, I would learn something.
Fujiwara : That's amazing. When you go to a ST spot, you can learn something about modern Japan, right?
Toshiko : Yes. It really felt like that. But now I feel like theater, not dance, is playing that role.
Fujiwara : Recently, I took a lecture on ``Ape's Drama Theory'' by Hideyoshi Kou, and he was talking about ``the role of theater in ancient Greece.'' I think it's close to media in the sense you were talking about. For example, it is a media that shows the citizens of Athens a play that says something like, ``We are currently being attacked by Sparta, what should we do?'' or shows the ethics of incest, and after watching it, everyone discusses it. right.
Naeji : I think this is a similar topic, but I actually went to South Korea to see a festival called the Miryang Arirang Festival. I heard that I could watch a demonstration of a traditional event called Miryang Baekju Nori there, so I went there instead of attending the main festival. The ending of the Miryang Arirang Festival is a spectacular multimedia show featuring fog blowing from the river, a mountain behind the river, and a temple on the top of the mountain that is illuminated and illuminated by laser lights. I'm doing it. Along with the laser lighting, there is a skit about the Korean people who were oppressed by the Japanese military during the colonial period and are saved by a Miryang vigilante group. Of course, the Japanese military also appears, and there is a long scene in which they shoot and kill local residents.
When I saw it, at first I thought it was some kind of propaganda play, but when I went back to Fukuoka and talked about it to my friend Natsuko Tezuka, we started talking about ``healthy nationalism and unhealthy nationalism.'' is. In that case, South Korea is healthy and Japan is unhealthy, which makes sense to me. The same is true of Greek theater, but the process of digesting the terrible history that we have fallen into in the past is through making it into a play and watching it over and over again. So it's not propaganda at all. This goes back to the fact that theater itself is a medium, but I think that watching such plays properly is not about anti-Japanese education, but rather that theater is still needed as a necessary process. is. Japan, on the other hand, has the ability to ignore things or say, ``That's fine,'' and reset each year. To put it very simply, in the case of Korea and Greece, theater is a device for people to see things they don't want to see.
Fujiwara : In that sense, the works that Mr. Okada of chelfitsch has been working on recently may be quite conscious of this. "How do we show what we don't want to see?"
Naoko : I wonder if this process should be done in Japan as well. But I don't think anyone will watch it... In a sense, I feel like I'm a Latin person who doesn't care about Japan.
Fujiwara : I wonder where that came from. I feel like the feeling of not wanting to see it came after the war...
Oshiko : Japanese people are good at getting things moving without anyone having to make decisions.
Fujiwara : That's probably old; for example, the story of the elder of Tsushima that appears in ``The Forgotten Japanese'' (written by Tsuneichi Miyamoto) is exactly like that. They're supposed to be talking about a certain topic, but instead of having a discussion, they just keep reminiscing about things like, ``This happened a long time ago...'' and before we know it, we've reached a conclusion.
Nesuko : Japanese people do a lot of things that they're not suited for. Debate and democracy.
Fujiwara : In fact, with the advent of global capitalism, you could say that we are being made to feel like we have to develop our economies nationally and that we have to be good at debate. However, even though I have said that one of Japan's strengths is that it doesn't make decisions, I also feel that we are being forced into a society where things don't move forward unless decisions are made at a certain speed. By the way, when I was returning from Manila, an American asked me how to say "I miss you" in Japanese, and after thinking about it for a while, I answered, "No." Is that true? ? ?
Toshiko : Hmm...
Fujiwara : There is a famous story that Natsume Soseki translated ``I love you'' into ``The moon is beautiful, isn't it?'' If "I miss you" were an archaic Japanese word, I think it would have been conveyed through waka poetry. So at least 5, 7, 5 is necessary, and if possible, 5, 7, 5, 7, 7 would be even better (lol).
Nejiko : That's long (lol) It's long and I don't know what you're saying, so wouldn't it be better to just say "i miss you"?
Fujiwara : That's right (lol) If we were a race that needed 5, 7, 5, 7, 7 to express our feelings, we would probably be left behind in the world of global competitiveness and so on. However, I don't want to say "I miss you" so easily.
Encounter with Butoh
Fujiwara : On a different note, I read an interview with you about how you discovered butoh and joined Dairakudakan up to the present day, and it's like a ``rolling stone'' (lol) )
Neji : lol
I'll also link to the topic of media, but in Noh, for example, there is a feeling that a certain performing art that has been passed down through generations is written on the body of the Noh actor, rather than "this Noh actor's dance." I think. In the same way, it's not about me, it's about ``this art is written on my body,'' and it's the feeling that my body exists as a medium. There was a performance called (Sickness Dance), in which a 96-year-old grandmother who couldn't walk on her own came out on her back, danced for a few minutes, and then went home. That's really good. As you get older, it seems like your history, the performing arts you do, and the time you've spent are all written on your body, rather than being a dancer. That's why I'm a dancer, but it's not what dancers do, so I feel like it's not me. That feeling is really good for me. The person that immediately comes to mind is Kazuo Ohno. Ohno's ego has been overwritten on his body. That's why I feel like Kazuo Ohno is the one doing it, not Kazuo Ohno. I'm sure there's a sense of reaching and knowing that kind of territory, so I think I'd like to live that long.
Fujiwara : I see. I think a big reason for this is that Oshiko suddenly jumped into the core of butoh from the very beginning. I think you could say that Dairakudakan had already become quite historicized by the time you joined in 2000, and perhaps there was a sense that you could touch the history of physical expression through Dairakudakan. Isn't it?
Toshiko : That might be true. When talking about butoh technique, the key is how to create a system that moves in a way that doesn't seem like you. To put it simply, it's just a paraphrase, such as ``raise your right hand'' instead of ``raise your right hand,'' ``your body is placed'' instead of ``standing,'' and ``carry your feet'' instead of ``walk.'' , it changes depending on that. I think that how to put yourself in a state of ``not me'' in this way is a technique, and a characteristic of butoh. So I guess that's influencing it.
Fujiwara : Why do you think you fit in there in the first place?
Toshiko : I wonder why...
I went to see Dairakudakan's performance, wrote my resume the same day, and sent it in. I think there must be something deep down, but at the time, that didn't matter; for me, it was just cosplay. I simply want to be that! That's what I mean.
Fujiwara : This is it! Like?
Oshiko : Yeah (lol) So it's cosplay. Not wrong at all.
Fujiwara : Oh, can I have a lemon sour please?
Toshiko : I'll have a beer then. Oh, and the bowl of curry was 100 yen. I want to eat that too!
I want dance to be something simple.
Oshiko : This is somewhat connected to the Greek and Korean theater that I mentioned earlier, but I have a deep-rooted quality, or rather, a habit, of wanting to show things I don't like. I feel like that.
There's an episode...
One day, I was sitting in a priority seat on a train. I'm the type of person that if someone comes in front of me and needs it, I'll give it up, and if there's a seat available, I'll sit in the priority seat, but that day it was empty, so I just sat there and read a paperback book. Before long, the train was getting crowded, but I was so focused on my paperback that I didn't notice. Then I heard a voice say, ``Wait a minute,'' and when I looked in front of me, my grandmother was standing in front of me. There was a woman in her late 40s next to me, and she said, "Hey, you have a priority seat." So, I said, "Oh, I'm sorry," and of course I offered my seat, but what do you think I did at that time? ?
Fujiwara : Eh... I don't know... Clicking your tongue? ?
Neji : Hmm, maybe close. I didn't do it because I wanted to do it, but I did it on my own and I was surprised, but at that time, I acted in a bad way.
Fujiwara : Ah...
Oshiko : I have that kind of desire within myself, and I think it's quite evident in my work. It's like a habit, though. I said something that sounded like a sense of mission, and I created works in various countries, but I felt depressed when I realized that this is the feeling that lies at the root of my creations. But I was depressed but gave up (lol)
Fujiwara : Do you feel like that's who you are?
Toshiko : That's right. So what I'm trying to say is that the part of me that is impressed when I go to see someone's work is that part of the person who makes it... That's what really moves me. I'm not sure how to explain it, but lately I've been referring to such things as ``unusable things.'' Precisely because it is such an ``unusable item,'' it can be said that it is never used. But "unusable" isn't a very good word, so I'll have to come up with a better word.
Fujiwara : "It can't be used," right?
Toshiko : Yes. Continuing on from that, I would like to talk about dance, but first, let's go back to the Miryang Arirang Festival.In the last scene of the skit of the multimedia show, a huge Korean flag is projected on the river and mountain surface. It becomes a big chorus of Arirang. Up until that point, it's all about nationalism, but in the end, everyone starts dancing around it. When I saw it, the older women would jump onto the stage and do the okgaechum (shoulder dance) on their own.
Fujiwara : Hey! ! !
Oshiko : I don't think the Okkeechum at that time was about nationalism, it was just a kind of groove, but I feel like dance should deal with things that aren't used.
Fujiwara : Ah.
Neshiko : Even nationalism is no more than a soundbite. It's not a trivial thing, but I want dance to be like that...
At this point, the curry came into play.
Fujiwara : Oh! amazing! Like home-made curry.
the next deployment
Fujiwara : Come to think of it, you're going to have a new performance at the Red Brick Warehouse soon, right? .
Toshiko : That's right. I'm the host this time, so I'll be thinking about a lot of things. What I find interesting is when something happens unexpectedly, like an accident, but out of 300 people, only 10 will find it interesting. However, those 10 people might be so shocked that they go home crying (lol)
Fujiwara : It's like, ``It's so boring'' (lol)
Neshiko : Yeah, that's right (lol), but everyone else seemed to have no idea what happened. That's not what I want to do, though.
NEJI PIJIN / URBAN FOLK ENTERTAINMENT
<This event has ended. 〉
Date and time: 6/25 (Thu). 26 (Fri). 27 (Sat)
Venue: Yokohama Red Brick Warehouse Building 1
*Please see related events for details.
Oshiko : Also, one of the things I'm interested in right now is thinking about what kind of situations exist for dance to take place outside of the relationship of looking and being seen, and then actually doing that. That's the thing. I think theater is the relationship between people looking at people, and I think that's really great. But dance is not about that relationship itself. Until now, I have been dealing with the physical reactions that arise from these relationships. If we continue to treat dance as it is, there is a feeling somewhere that we want to remove ourselves from that relationship. I feel like when it comes to dancing, you don't have to be somewhere where people are watching. So, to give an easy-to-understand example, I would like to actually do something like walking into the eye of a typhoon and get all of my body engulfed in it, and then invent something like that. What's more, I think it's better to share it with several people instead of doing it alone. For example, if you all get the flu and have a fever of 40 degrees, you can share your physical condition at that time.
Fujiwara : It's dangerous... But when you catch a cold, you become strangely conscious of your own body.
Neshiko : Yes, it really feels like it's not me. It's exhausting when you have a high fever and are shivering, but it's fun (lol)
Fujiwara : Whether you do it or not, it's an opportunity to be more conscious of your daily actions.
Toshiko : That's right. So, I'm looking to recruit people who have the same passion as me and are willing to work together on this kind of thing, and I'm thinking of working with them for a limited period of three years if we get together.
Fujiwara : Are you creating a company?
Toshiko : Yeah. I thought it would be a good idea to get these kinds of people together and form a company. Right now, I'm more interested in that than in creating new works. That said, you may suddenly want to create a new work, and that's fine.
Fujiwara : Of course. But why is it limited to 3 years?
Toshiko : After all, being in a group is difficult. Don't you hate it when you gradually become exhausted and quit?
Fujiwara : I'm really looking forward to that company.
Well, Oshiko-san is a “rolling stone” (lol)
Toshiko : Lol. I hope there are as few slopes as possible...
Fujiwara : But I think the general metaphor of a "rolling stone" is that as it rolls, the corners gradually become rounded and rounded...but that may not be the case for you, Mr. Oshiko. Yeah (lol)
complete
Here is the store information
Here is the dish we had this time
And today's recommendation is:
Meat and potatoes with good flavor!
Standing bar Shimoda store
1-6-4 Tsunashima Nishi, Kohoku Ward, Yokohama City, Kanagawa Prefecture
TEL : 045-593-6437
Business hours : 16:00-24:00 (LO 23:30) *Open on Sundays as well
Access : 2 minutes walk from the west exit of Tsunashima Station on the Tokyu Toyoko Line
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