Erhu

THE JAPAN FOUNDATIONNEWSLETTER

VOL.XXX/NO .6

AUGUST/SEPTEMBER 2005 This newsletter is printed on recycled paper.

Contents

Interview With

Ms. Peng Xiumin 1

The Japan Foundation’s

Activities 4

Book Review: Japan’s Quiet

Transformation: Social

Change and Civil Society

in the Twenty-First Century 6

Contribution 7

Cultural Highlights 8

On the road in the sky

where summer and

autumn intersect,

Does the cool wind blow

to only one side?

Ohshikohchi no Mitsune

(9th–10th century)

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Interview WithMs. Peng Xiumin

(Erhu Musician)

Discovering Chinese Culture

and History Through Music

Over the last few years, the traditional Chinese violin, or erhu, has become popular

among many generations of music-lovers in Japan. The gentle, soft and mysterious

sound harkens back to ancient China, and seems

to bring healing and consolation to those who hear it. The

Japan Foundation spoke with Ms. Peng Xiumin (who per-

forms under the stage name Shumin) about her upbringing

in China, later relocation to Japan, the history of the erhu,

and her role as a cultural bridge between Japan and China.

JF: You have performed in both Japan and China. Are there

differences playing in the two countries?

Xiumin: Yes. For one, the audience response and percep-

tion is completely different. For example, in China, the music

at the end of a concert should be upbeat and happy, be-

cause people want to go home feeling good. But in Japan, it

is the opposite. People appreciate quiet and doleful music

at the end of a concert. When I played more contemplative

music at the end of a Japanese concert, the audience told

me how fantastic it was. But if I had done that in China, they would have been dissatisfied.

Also, in Japan, I have the chance to stretch myself by playing many different kinds of musical

styles with the erhu, such as jazz, tango, and even accompanying traditional Japanese instru-

ments. This has been a great opportunity for me, because in China I could only play tradi-

tional erhu music.

JF: The erhu has recently become very popular in Japan. Why is that?

Xiumin: When I used to give concerts a few years ago, the audience was mostly old people.

And they were only happy if I played songs like Soshu Yakyoku (Su Zhou Serenade, com-

posed by Ryoichi Hattori in 1940). Recently, the audiences are younger and more interested in

erhu music by modern Chinese composers. To them, the sound of the erhu is consoling, and

seems to help them relax. Maybe this is because the pitch of the erhu is completely the same

as that of the female voice.

Ms. Peng Xiumin is a master of the erhu. Born in Xian, she first studied the traditional instrument from her

father, who was also a professional musician. In 1999, she received her master’s degree from The Xian

Conservatory of Music, and came to Japan the same year. In addition to collaborating and performing with

many Japanese musicians, she has also performed in various concerts and events, including the “2004

International Symposium” at the Kyushu National Museum. She has been a lecturer at Gakushuin Univer-

sity since 2001. Her CD of erhu music is called Moonlit Night (Lyra Records).

“Cultural exchange on an individual

level can help to establish a good re-

lationship between Japan and China

in the future.“

2 The Japan Foundation Newsletter XXX/No.6

MUSIC

Childhood in Xian, Life in the Army and After

JF: How did you start to play erhu?

Xiumin: My father was a professional erhu musician in

Gan Su. My mother was an actress, and both of my par-

ents belonged to the

Performing Arts Group

that toured the Silk

Road. I grew up in an

apartment that was al-

located to members of

the Group. So, when I

woke up in the morn-

ing, I always heard

someone tuning an in-

strument or practicing

a song. Even though

my father went on tour

a few times a year, I

cou ld a lways f i nd

someone who could

tune the erhu in the

garden. Growing up in

such an environment,

it was natural for a child to learn to play a musical instru-

ment. But my father didn’t want me to be a professional

erhu player. He knew how hard it was to survive as a mu-

sician. He taught the erhu to many children to support our

family. Actually, I was one of my father’s students.

JF: But did you want to be a professional musician any-

way?

Xiumin: No, I don’t think so. I started playing the erhu simply

because all the children in the apartment building played mu-

sical instruments. I also practiced every day after school. But

my father was a very strict teacher. As I said, he didn’t want

me to be a professional musician, but since he was teaching

me in the presence of the other students, he had to be severe.

I didn’t have any time to play with other kids, and didn’t know

what ordinary kids did for fun. For me, playing the erhu was

not fun, because I didn’t understand why I had to practice so

hard. But, when I was fourteen, I applied for the All China

Boys and Girls Traditional Instrument Contest. Luckily, I re-

ceived the Silver Prize, and as a result, my father’s colleagues

encouraged him to let me to become a professional musician.

At the very same time, I had the chance to join the People’s

Liberation Army.

JF: So you joined the army?

Xiumin: Yes. The People’s Liberation Army always recruited

children who had talent in music and sports, and fostered

their talents. Actually, kids who played music dreamed of

joining the army as musicians! Usually, you need to be

over eighteen years old to join the army, but I was only

fourteen, so they made an exception. My parents were so

proud of me, so they let me join the army. Also, they were

happy because army life is very regimented.

JF: How was it?

Xiumin: I got to play in many places throughout China, not

only in military bases, but also in regional concert halls, mainly

in the West, for ordinary people. When I look back on those

days now, it was a good experience for me. But at the time, I

felt they were incredibly difficult. Military regulations stipu-

lated that I couldn’t go home for three years! Remember, I was

fourteen years old. The hardest time of year was the Chinese

New Year, which is the coldest time as well. We played for

people who were looking forward to our concerts as a way to

celebrate the New Year. But most of the halls were not equipped

with adequate heating. The temperature was always under

minus 10 degrees centigrade, and our costumes were very

thin. Every New Year, I caught a terrible cold. In the morning,

I was on an IV drip at the hospital. At night, I was playing in a

concert.

JF: But you managed to make it through your army years, and

then you went to college, right?

Xiumin: Yes, I stayed in the army for five years until I had to

retire. I wondered what I should do, but fortunately, the uni-

versity entrance system changed the year I retired. Before

that, those in the army could only go to a college related to the

army. But from that year on, people in the army had the oppor-

tunity to get to ordinary art and music universities. I was re-

ally lucky. So, I set my sights on getting into The Xian Conser-

vatory of Music, which is the only music college in my area. I

studied really hard, reading piles of books to prepare for the

written test, because I did not go to high school and I had a lot

of catching up to do. Luckily, I passed the exam for the erhu

course.

JF: Was you father happy to hear that you had gotten into

music school?

Xiumin: Yes, I think so. And he changed his mind and decided

to allow me to do what I wanted to do. The erhu course was

such a popular course. In my grade, over a hundred students

applied every year, but only three passed, including me. So, I

was so happy to pass the test and get into college. But truth-

fully, ever since childhood, I’d never really enjoyed playing

the erhu. In college and graduate school, I practiced hard

because I didn’t want to lose my chance. It wasn’t until my

Graduate School graduation concert that I enjoyed playing

the erhu. While I was playing my solo, I realized that the audi-

ence, who were usually chatting quietly amongst themselves

even during a concert, became quiet. It was completely quiet.

I could really feel people focusing on my performance. That

was when I realized what it meant to make an impression on

people with music. I came to love playing the erhu at that

moment.

Performance at the Kyushu National

Museum (November, 2004). Photo by

Tomoaki Minoda.

3The Japan Foundation Newsletter XXX/No.6

MUSIC

The History of the Erhu

JF: Can you explain the erhu?

Xiumin: The instrument reportedly dates back to the T’ang

Dynasty (7th–10th century A.D.), though its exact date of

origin is unknown. The first recorded mention of it in a histori-

cal document wasn’t until the eighteenth century. In Chinese

characters, erhu is written . Er means two, because

the erhu has two strings. And hu means the Western

area of China, which is the Silk Road area. In other words, erhu

means a two-stringed instrument from the West. One of the

unique features of this instrument is that the bow hairs are

inserted between the two strings. The body is made of py-

thon skin stretched over a hollow wooden box. If the python

skin is not fully stretched, the sound will be completely differ-

ent. The pitch of these two strings is the same as the two

middle strings of a violin.

JF: Are there any innovators in modern Chinese erhu music?

Xiumin: Yes, Liu T’ien-hua and Abing. They were born at the

end of the nineteenth century and had the greatest influence

on modern erhu music. Liu T’ein-hua was a professor at Beijing

University who elevated the social position of the erhu. At

that time, the erhu was not considered a sophisticated instru-

ment. Unlike instruments such as the pipa (Chinese lute) or

qin (Chinese zither), the erhu had never been performed in

front of the Emperor. It was played only as a supporting in-

strument for theater pieces. But Liu T’ein-hua, who had stud-

ied the violin, adopted violin techniques to the erhu and was

able to express profound human emotions with the erhu. He

also composed music for erhu that completely reflected the

sensibilities of traditional Chinese music. On the other hand,

Abing was a completely different kind of musician. He was

not at all academic. He grew up as the son of a Taoist priest.

He had an amazing talent with the erhu, and could reportedly

express any sound with it, from a human voice to the bark of a

dog. But, he went blind in his thirties and was kicked out of

the temple, probably for loose conduct. He made his living as

a street musician, and left behind many compositions for the

erhu. The two innovators were completely different types of

musicians, but without them, the erhu would still be seen as a

lower-class instrument.

Cultural Exchange Through Music

JF: You’re one of the top erhu players in Japan, and you’ve

performed with many musicians here. Was there one perfor-

mance that made the deepest impression on you?

Xiumin: It would have to be performing with Mr. Taro Hakase,

the violinist. In 2003, I had the opportunity to work with him

and to perform the title music of Ruten no Ohi/Saigo no Kotei

(The Wandering Empress and The Last Emperor), a special

drama created for the 45th anniversary of TV Asahi. It was the

largest project I’d been involved with since I came to Japan.

Playing with a big orchestra was a great experience for me.

JF: You’ve lived in Japan for over six years. What do you

think of Japanese society?

Xiumin: I think Japan is a good country, because it is very

convenient and safe. However, I sometimes miss having a

close relationship with my neighbors, like I had in China. At

my building in Tokyo, I don’t even know who lives next door.

But where I grew up in Xian, people regularly borrowed rice,

soy source or salt from the neighbors. I don’t see such close

relationships in Tokyo. Recently, I had the chance to watch

some of Ozu’s films, and I was so surprised to see that the

world in his films was completely the same as that of my child-

hood and the apartment building where I lived. I realized that

Japan used to be like China. Fifty years from now, China may

change like Japan did. Realizing that this could happen made

me a little bit sad.

JF: Right now, the political relationship between Japan and

China is rather strained. Is there a message you would like to

give to the Japanese people through your music?

Xiumin: Through my time in Japan, what I have come to real-

ize strongly is that the opinions of the government and that of

ordinary people are different. Ordinary people have their own

feelings, which are not those of governments. The people

who come to my concerts and the students to whom I teach

the erhu are ordinary people. They love the sound of the

erhu, which touches something universal and reaches beyond

politics. I am glad that the erhu is so popular now in Japan,

and I want the erhu to lead more Japanese people to take an

interest in Chinese culture and history. I think cultural exchange

on an individual level like this can only help to establish a

good relationship between Japan and China in the future.

Features of the erhu: Two strings and the bow hairs inserted be-

tween the strings. Python skin is stretched over the hollow wooden

box that makes the body of the instrument.


THE JAPAN FOUNDATION’S ACTIVITIES

The Japan Foundation’s Activities

The 46th International Speech Contest in Japanese,

co-organized by the International Education Center,

the Tottori Convention Bureau, and the Japan Foundation,

was held on June 18th at the Yonago Convention Center, Tottori

Prefecture. Twelve speakers from ten countries gave speeches in

Japanese. The presenters were selected from one hundred and forty-

three applicants from twenty-eight countries. Ms. Ha A Lang won

the Foreign Minister’s Award for her speech Engawa kara Hajimaru

Nikkan Koryu (Japan-Korea Exchange Begins at the Engawa), Ms.

Joanne O’Brien won the Education Minister’s Award for her speech

Ippuku no Ocha kara (From a Single Bowl of Tea), and Ms. Wang

Yu won the Japan Foundation President’s Award for her speech

Baberu no Toh (Tower of Babel). Their speeches were aired on

NHK’s Educational Channel on July 9th.

Ms. Ha, a student from Korea currently enrolled at Aichi

Shukutoku University, talked about exchange between Ja-

pan and Korea relating to the engawa, the external corridor

of a traditional Japanese house. Watching her favorite Japa-

nese animation Sazae-san, she discovered that Japanese and

Korean families and family homes had similar characteristics.

The architectural element called the engawa, which is a kind

of external hallway, reminded her of her grandfather’s home

in the countryside. The engawa belongs to both inside and

outside the home. It is a place where people from the “out-

side” can gather and communicate openly with people on the

“inside,” or family members. She noted that the current Kan-

ryu (Korean boom in Japan) played the role of engawa in

building a relationship between Japan and Korea. Ms. Ha

emphasized the importance of creating a large engawa in the

future to build a place where the people of both countries

could talk freely and have fun together.

Ms. O’Brien, an English teacher from Ireland, gave a speech

on how the tea ceremony and the concept of the ichigo ichie

(one encounter, one chance) changed her perception of societal

roles. She had been frustrated with her role in Japanese society

as the okyakusan (guest), and had felt this position was one-

sided and only allowed her to “accept.” Through the experience

of the tea ceremony, however, she came to realize that it was

possible to find one’s own position and role anywhere as an

equal. In the tea ceremony, this was manifest between the host

who serves the tea, and the guest who is served the tea. Ms.

O’Brien realized that the guest’s role is not merely to “accept”

but also to “give;” in this case, to give gratitude.

Ms. Wang, a student from China currently enrolled at Nagoya

University Graduate School, spoke about how differences in

language reflect differences in culture. She shared her under-

standing of how learning a language other than one’s mother

tongue gave one a chance to deepen understanding of one’s

own culture as well.

Also, Ms. Chen Fengyan of China, a student at Seitoku University,

was selected by the audience to receive the International Education

Center Award. Ms. Chen’s speech, Daikirai Datta Nippon (Japan:

The Country I Really Hated), described how her childhood hatred of

Japan changed as she learned about the long history of exchange

between Japan and China since the sixth century.

The other prizewinners are:

The recipient of the Tottori Prefecture Governor’s Award is

Mr. Bouri Mohamed of Tunisia, who gave a speech entitled

Sanshin (Three Minds). Mr. Mohamed is a graduate student

at the Okinawa Prefectual University of the Arts.

The winner of the Tottori Convention Bureau Award is Mr.

Tsog Nandinbaatar of Mongolia, who presented a speech en-

titled Minasan Popori masuka? (Shall We All Popori?). Mr.

Nandibataar is a student at the University of Electro-Communi-

cations.

The winner of the Wakatake Award is Mr. Dumindu

Karunathillake of Sri Lanka, a student at Yonago National Col-

lege of Technology. Mr. Karunathillake gave a speech entitled

Nippon no Sengo no Fukko to Gendai no Wakamono (Japan’s

Recovery in the Post-War Era and Contemporary Youth).

Audiences enjoyed getting a look at Japanese society and

culture from a foreign perspective through these Japanese

speeches.

“The International Speech Contest in Japanese” was previ-

ously held annually in Tokyo, but since the 39th Contest, it has

been held in different cities throughout Japan such as Gifu,

Nagasaki, Osaka, and Kochi. In 2006, the 47th Contest will be

held in Shimonoseki city, Yamaguchi Prefecture, on May 27th.

46th International Speech

Contest in Japanese

12 Speakers from 10 Countries

Gather in Tottori in June

46th International Speech Contest in Japanese (at the Yonago Con-

vention Center, June 18th, 2005)


THE JAPAN FOUNDATION’S ACTIVITIES

An exhibition of ukiyo-e prints by the master Utagawa

Hiroshige called “Hiroshige: 100 Famous Views

of Edo” was held at the Japan Cultural Institute in

Paris from May 14th to July 9th, 2005. The exhibition, which was

organized by the Eikoh Institute of Culture and Education, pri-

vate collectors, and the Japan Cultural Institute of Paris, brought

together the above series and other Hiroshige ukiyo-e prints for

a total of 121 pieces, depicting vibrant scenes of old Tokyo in

the early half of the nineteenth century.

Hiroshige created 100 Fa-

mous Views of Edo (Edo

Meisho Hyakkei) in the last

stage of his life. Born in 1797

to a samurai who was in

charge of fire-fighting in Edo,

Hiroshige studied under the

ukiyo-e master Utagawa

Toyohiro. When Toyohiro

died in 1828, Hiroshige

stopped drawing ukiyo-e de-

picting actors and beautiful

women and began creating

ukiyo-e of landscapes and

city scenes. In 1831, Hokusai’s

masterpiece ukiyo-e series,

36 Views of Mt. Fuji (Fugaku Sanjurokkei) was published.

Three years later, Hiroshige himself became famous with his

53 Stations of the Tokaido (Tokaido Gojusan Tsugi) in which

he depicted 53 way-stations from Edo to Kyoto using innova-

tive techniques to create depth and perspective.

In 1857, at the age of sixty, Hiroshige began to create 100

Famous Views of Edo. This series depicted old Tokyo (Edo)

just before Meiji-era modernization transformed the landscape.

Hiroshige captured famous places such as the temples of

Asakusa, the “pleasure quarters” of the Yoshiwara, and the

famous downtown bridge Nihonbashi, but he also depicted

ordinary areas and everyday scenes deep in the throes of the

four seasons. His prints depict people having parties under

the spring cherry blossoms, pedestrians on a bridge running

away from a sudden summer rain, the autumn leaves chang-

ing color, and temples covered with snow. Hiroshige’s prints

were made with innovative graphic techniques that influenced

the Impressionists Van Gogh, Gauguin, and Toulouse-Lautrec.

The Japan Foundation planned this exhibition as a follow-

up to the Imari porcelain show “JIKI: Japanese Porcelains

1610–1760,” to present the culture of the Edo period.

Hiroshige’s 100 Famous

Views of Edo Exhibited

The Japan Cultural Institute in Paris Visions of the Body 2005

Exhibition: Fashion, Modern Art, and

Body Awareness Held in Seoul

Visions of the Body 2005, an exhibition exploring the mean-

ing of “the body,” linking fashion and contemporary art

from the twentieth century to the present, was held at the

Seoul Museum of Art, Korea, from

June 15th to July 31st. The show

provided the setting for a discus-

sion of both fashion and modern

art, presenting many sides to the

debate on the subject of “the

body.” The show was co-orga-

nized by the Japan Foundation, the

Kyoto Costume Institute, the

Seoul Museum of Art, and the

Korea Foundation.

“Visions of the Body 2005” is

based on “Visions of the Body: Fashion or Invisible Corset,” an

exhibition held in 1999 in Tokyo and Kyoto. However, “Visions of the

Body 2005” was reconstructed as a new exhibition to reflect the

changes that have occurred over the last six years in the fields of

fashion and art. Its underlying concept was to create a dialogue-

model linking fashion, art, and body awareness. 70 pieces of clothing

designed by modern and contemporary clothing designers such as

Pierre Cardin, Jean-Paul Gaultier, Issey Miyake, Paco Rabanne, and

Yoji Yamamoto were displayed alongside 30 contemporary works of

art created by Bul Lee, Motohiko Odani, Wolfgang Tilmans, Miwa

Yanagi, and others. The exhibition consists of three sections: Pro-

logue–Deformed Body for Fashion, Main Section–New Stage for

Body and Fashion, and Epilogue–Fashion as Image.

The first section, Prologue–Deformed Body for Fashion, repre-

sents the body subjugated by clothing via the outer layer, showing

how the body is “deformed” to fit into this clothing and detailing the

means of realizing this deformation through the use of corsets, crino-

lines, and bustles. The second section, Main Section–New Stage

for Body and Fashion, showcases the diversity of fashion in the

twentieth century, following Paul Poiret’s declaration of the “end of

the corset” in 1906. After abandoning the corset, fashion designers

achieved complete freedom of form. This section depicts the libera-

tion of the body from the corset, resulting in body awareness and an

increasing diversity of meanings and possibilities in clothing design.

Finally, in Epilogue–Fashion as Image, the exhibition ends with

Martin Margiela’s outdoor installation featuring a body eroded by

mold and destroyed as a result of environmental factors. It also

includes footage of the stunning Viktor & Rolf fashion show featur-

ing chrome-key technology.

This exhibition was part of the events honoring “Japan-Korea

Friendship Year 2005.”

Asakusa Kinryuzan. Collection of

the Eikoh Institute of Culture and

Education

Dress, Designed by Paco Rabanne


BOOK REVIEW

Books in Other Languages

Japan’s Quiet Transformation is one of the most impor-

tant books published about Japan in recent years, a

book that is unsparing in its critique of contemporary Japan’s

many ills but that goes well beyond the now standard doom-laden

portrayal of a nation headed for the abyss. A long-time Tokyo resi-

dent and a history professor at Temple University Japan, Kingston

paints a picture of a country in the midst of a sweeping transforma-

tion that is not so much quiet, as his title suggests, but borderline

revolutionary. At a glance, this seems like an unlikely yarn. This is

Japan he’s writing about, after all. But in this entertaining and com-

pelling book, Kingston documents Japan’s largely ignored attempts

to turn itself around at the turn of the twenty-first century, albeit with

no guarantees of success.

The unifying theme that binds together ten chapters on a

series of disparate topics—ranging from hemophiliacs infected

with AIDS from tainted blood products to nationalism and the

decline of the construction state—is the 1999 enactment of a

freedom of information law, and the ardor with which the Japa-

nese media, non-governmental organizations, and even parts of

the judiciary have embraced this piece of ground-breaking leg-

islation. Kingston persuasively illustrates that the legislation

has fostered the growth of civil society in Japan, after years of

subjugation to the whims, wants, and needs of the vaunted Iron

Triangle, the bureaucracy, politicians, and big business.

Transparency in Japanese public life has clearly played a

major role in many of the events Kingston describes. Before

the enactment of the freedom of information law, bureaucrats

and politicians never expected to be held accountable for

their actions. As a result, they treated taxpayer money and

individuals with disdain and arrogance. Hence the policy of

official discrimination against leprosy sufferers in Japan un-

til the early twenty-first century. Hence the vintage wine of-

ficials at the Finance Ministry quaffed with abandon on the

public purse until the mid-1990s. And hence the crash of

Japan’s speculative real estate and stock market bubbles in

the early 1990s and the so-called Lost Decade that followed.

Conversely, in recent years, the freedom of information law

has prompted the ruling elite to think more carefully than ever

about the decisions it makes in the public’s name, lest they

prove disastrous—and, in the new era of transparency, come

back to ruin careers. Public demands for accountability have

also emboldened some politicians to do what would have

been unthinkable only a decade ago and scrap public works

projects that would have benefited only the companies that

built them and their political patrons.

Best read as an interim report on Japan’s prospects, Japan’s

Quiet Transformation does not predict plain sailing in the

years ahead. None of Japan’s gains are set in stone. Plus, as

Kingston points out in his even-handed and perspicacious

chapter on nationalism, Japan lives in a tough neighborhood.

Only recently, this was underscored by anti-Japanese riots

in China and South Korea, and reports of North Korean prepa-

rations for a nuclear weapons test.

Still, Kingston is broadly convinced that the pessimism

hanging over Japan is cause for optimism; that a frustrated

electorate has already pushed Japan ahead in surprising ways;

and that voters are unlikely to let their tarnished rulers take

their foot off the pedal. In any event, right or wrong, Kingston

has not only produced a much-needed antidote to the polem-

ics predicting Japan’s imminent slide into the Pacific, he has

also leavened it with sprightly prose (“miasma of miscues;”

“haughty and naughty bureaucrats”), a consistently wry sense

of humor, and a selection of insightful tales.

Not least, there is the story of Suzuki Koji, a resident at a leprosa-

rium in Kusatsu, a town north of Tokyo. Born in Akita Prefecture in

1923, Suzuki was diagnosed with leprosy—later called Hansen’s

Disease—at the age of sixteen, and forcibly removed to the leprosa-

rium in Kusatsu. Sixty years later, he was still there, the victim of a

bureaucratic inertia that doomed Japan’s lepers to live in isolation

for a half-century after doctors discovered a cure for Hansen’s Dis-

ease and realized it was not contagious.

And yet, in 2002 Suzuki was no longer bitter. After an epic struggle,

in 2001 he and dozens of others from fifteen leprosaria across Japan

finally won compensation and, most importantly, an apology from

the Japanese government. “We are old and soon will die,” Suzuki

said. “But to give meaning to our struggle we want coming genera-

tions to reflect on the nature of discrimination and the problem of

conformity. People can make a difference by their choices if they

want to. This is what Japanese democracy needs.”

Japan’s Quiet Transformation is reviewed by Velisarios Kattoulas, a former

Tokyo Bureau Chief for the International Herald Tribune, correspondent

at Newsweek, and special correspondent at The Far Eastern Economic

Review. A graduate in Japanese and Economics from the University of

London, he has written about Northeast Asia since 1994 and is currently

finishing a book about organized crime in contemporary Japan.

Japan’s Quiet Transforma-

tion: Social Change and

Civil Society in the Twenty-

First Century

By Jeff Kingston

New York: Routledge/Curzon, 2004

358 pages, $40.95, paperback

Ills and Transparency

in Japanese Society


CONTRIBUTION

Brazil and Japan:

Capoeira as a Cultural and Artistic Link

Arturo Urena-Hamelitz

Over the last 10 years, interest in Brazilian culture

and arts has grown exponentially in Japan. Afro-

Brazilian dance, Samba, Brazilian Percussion, and

Capoeira are now popular here. At many cafés in Tokyo, you

can be soothed by the soft sounds of Bossa Nova. The popu-

larity of these art forms is helping to spearhead cultural ex-

change between Japan and Brazil. Every year, the Asakusa

Samba Carnival in Tokyo attracts over 500,000 participants.

In the past six years, I have participated in over 150 profes-

sional Capoeira shows throughout Japan. I have made sev-

eral observations about the development of Brazilian arts

and culture in Japan. First, many Japanese people have seen

Capoeira in the mass media, as it appears frequently on tele-

vision programs, music videos, and commercials. Second,

Japanese are generally aware of a connection with Brazil

through the mass migration of Japanese settlers into Brazil

over the last century. They have had contact with people of

Japanese descent migrating to Japan in search of job oppor-

tunities. Finally, Japanese are attracted to the holistic ap-

proach of Capoeira, which combines aesthetic movement,

martial arts, acrobatics, music, and philosophy.

What is Capoeira?

In 1824, the French artist Rugendas depicted one of the

earliest accounts of Capoeira in his book Voyage Pittoresque

et Historique au Brasil. While in Brazil, he drew the African

past-time called Capuera, in which two men exchange at-

tacks until one is victorious. As early as 1814, Capoeira and

other African and Afro-Brazilian cultural arts were being out-

lawed and persecuted by official decree. It wasn’t until

Capoeira gained political attention that the laws forbidding

its practice were amended in 1934. During this time, Brazil

was opening itself to mass migration from Europe and Japan.

With so many new groups, developing a Brazilian unifying

identity became a political goal. President Getulio Vargas was

able to use Capoeira and other Afro-Brazilian arts to help

construct, bring to the forefront, and legitimize Capoeira

through the growing popularity of one famous Capoeira prac-

titioner from Bahia named Manoel dos Reis Machado (1900-

1974), popularly known as Bimba.

Bimba was an expert in what was then the popular art of

Capoeira. But, he wanted to evolve and legitimize Capoeira

through the organized teaching of his system called Luta

Regional Baiana (Bahia’s Regional Fighting Style). Bimba

brought the art of Capoeira out of the back alleys and gave it

Arturo Urena-Hamelitz has been practicing Capoeira and other Afro-

Brazilian cultural manifestations for 17 years. He is the Director of NO

BOUNDARIES Latin American Culture and Arts Foundation NPO in

Tokyo (www.ihavenoboundaires.com). This fall he begins a Masters

Program in International Relations at Waseda University with a focus

on “The Importation of Brazilian Cultural Arts into Japan.” He can be

reached at his website above, and at www.capoeira.jp.

legitimacy to attract students from the middle and upper

classes. However, many Capoeira instructors did not agree

with Bimba’s new approach. They banded together to create

their own approach, Capoeira Angola. Nowadays, Capoeira

is split between Capoeira Angola and variations of what

Bimba taught, generally referred to as Capoeira Regional.

Today Capoeira is taught and practiced all over the world.

Its growing popularity is largely due to its ability to help the

practitioner explore the full range of artistic challenges of the

human experience. A practitioner learns to sing, play musical

instruments, perform acrobatic and aesthetic movements, mar-

tial arts, and delve into the philosophy of this exotic art.

Rising Interest in Brazilian Arts in Japan

Because of the growing popularity of Capoeira, it is important

that the art is presented in an authentic manner. Therefore, I’d

like to offer guidelines to help people choose qualified teachers.

In Capoeira: A Brazilian Art Form, a direct disciple of Bimba,

Ubirajara de Almeida, refers to the basic ranking system for a

Capoeira Practitioner. A formado (graduated student) needs to

study under a qualified instructor for a minimum of five years. He

must develop motor skills and experience in Capoeira move-

ments, musical prowess, and basic understanding of the lyrics

that form the philosophical make-up of the art.

However, those interested in Capoeira should be weary of

instructors who have gone to Brazil for a short time and return

to Japan with instructor certifications, despite lacking a com-

mon language. (Many Capoeira instructors in Brazil benefit

economically from giving legitimacy to students from abroad,

which is their incentive). Secondly, some Brazilians come here

with rudimentary experience and profess to be representa-

tives of Brazilian culture, but have no academic training and

only their national origin as a legitimizing factor.

In addition to individuals, agencies involved in the presen-

tation of international culture should seek a clear understand-

ing of where to allocate resources to help promote various

events. Only then can we truly promote authentic cultural

exchange between Brazil and Japan with a positive and holis-

tic approach.


Cultural Highlights

(May–June, 2005)

CULTURAL HIGHLIGHTS

PUBLICATIONS OBITUARIES

Life in Japan

A Loud Symbol of Summer

Many things symbolize the Japanese summer, such

as furin (wind bells), hanabi (fireworks), and

asagao (morning glories), but perhaps the most

indicative of summer’s arrival is the presence of the semi (ci-

cada). The insistent, shrill call of the cicada seems to capture

the essence of the hot and humid Japanese summer itself. This

tiny insect has not gone unnoticed in Japanese history, and in

fact, has been a subject of many haiku over the centuries.

Silence in the loud echo…/the cry of the cicada penetrates/

into the old temple rock. –Basho

In the hot summer village/the cicadas’ cries echo/over the

temple under the scorching sun. –Issa

The varied voices of merchants disappear…/it’s noontime/

for the cicadas. –Shiki

Though their cries might be forceful, in Japan, cicadas are

a symbol of the transience of life. After spending seven years

underground, cicadas emerge to live for a mere one week on

the earth. After appearing aboveground, they cry from sun-

rise to sunset, as if making their best effort to live.

To the untrained ear, they might

all sound alike, but actually, there

are many different kinds of cica-

das. The most common cicada is

the abura zemi (oily cicada), which

appears after the rainy season in

the middle of June. The abura zemi

cries the entire summer. The insis-

tent, loud sound of this cicada

seems to capture the heaviness and burden of the humid Japa-

nese summer perfectly. The cicadas in the haiku quoted here are

probably abura zemi.

But not all cicadas cry as loudly as the abura zemi. One

cicada, called the higurashi, cries in a very clear voice that

sounds like “kana, kana.” And at the end of summer, the

tsuku tsuku hoshi starts to cry. Tsuku tsuku hoshi (hoshi

means “Buddhist priest”) is the onomatopoeiac sound of

its cry. It sounds as if the cicada is mourning the passing of

summer, saying tsuku zuku oshi (I’m so sad). This summer,

as you listen to the sounds of the cicada, see if you can

make out their distinctive cries.

Soon to die…/the cicadas show no sign of it/in their vig-

orous cries. –Basho

ART & DESIGN

The 24th Domon Ken Prize

Ito Sei Prize for Literature

The Association of the Ito Sei Prize for Literature has an-

nounced the winners of the 16th Ito Sei Prize for Literature.

The winner in the novel division is Yoriko Shono for Konpira

published by Shueisha. And the winner in the criticism divi-

sion is Taeko Tomioka for Saikaku no Kanjo (The emotions

of Saikaku) published by Kodansha.

Mishima Yukio Prize and Yamamoto Shugoro Prize

The Shincho Literature Promotion Association has announced

the winners of the Mishima Yukio Prize and the Yamamoto

Shugoro Prize. The winner of the Mishima Yukio Prize is Maki

Kashimada for Rokusendo no ai (Six-thousand-degree love).

The winners of the Yamamoto Shugoro Prize are Hiroshi

Ogiwara for Asu no Kioku (The memory of tomorrow) and

Ryosuke Kakine for Kimitachini Asu ha nai (No tomorrow for

you guys).

The 17th Kawabata Prize

The Kawabata Foundation has announced the winner of the

17th Kawabata Prize. Noboru Tsujihara has received the award

for Kareha no Nakano Aoi Hono (Pale flame in the autumn

leaves). The Kawabata Prize is awarded to the best short story

published in the previous fiscal year.

Kunio Tsukamoto, 84, June 9, tanka poet. One of leaders of

post-war tanka poetry. He was known as an innovator in avant-

garde tanka, and pioneered new directions in the ancient form

along with poets Takashi Okai and Shuji Terayama. He is also

known for his friendship with Yukio Mishima. His main col-

lections of tanka are Nihonjin Reika (Japanese gospel),

Fuhenritsu (Permanent rhythm), and Mao (Satan).

Yumiko Kurahashi, 69, June 10, writer. Her first novel, Partei

(The Party), was written when she was still a student at Meiji

University. It depicted the realities of life in the Japanese com-

munist party. She established a reputation as an anti-realistic

novelist through her abstract and allegorical style. Her main

works are Sumiyakisuto Q no Boken (The adventure of

Sumiyakist Q), Otona no Tameno Zankoku na Dowa (Cruel

fairy tales for adults), and Amanon Koku Okanki (Passage to

Amanon).

The Mainichi Newspapers announced the winner of the 24th

Domon Ken Prize. The winner is Ei’ichiro Sakata for Piercing

the Sky—Ten wo Iru. The Domon Ken Prize was founded in

1981 to honor excellence in photography.

A b u r a z e m i . P h o t o b y

Yasumasa Saisho

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