A 16th C Garden and a 21st C Museum

Orginally written on December 27 , 2005

I made it through the night at the Shin Hankyu Hotel Annex, but switched to the Hilton for the rest of my stay in Osaka. When I worked at the British telephone carrier, C&W, I frequently stayed at Hilton hotels, so I am still a Gold member. They upgraded me to the 19th floor and threw in the gym and breakfast at no extra charge. All for just $20 more that I paid at the Shin Hankyu. Yeah, Conrad (and Paris) Hilton.

I am now on the train bound for Kanazawa, home to the 21st Century Museum of Contemporary Art. I am not sure that the 21st C is quite ready for its own museum. But that is exactly what they said about “modern art” when MOMA was started in New York.

After checking in to the $70 a-night Kanazawa Miyako Hotel (just as dreadful as the Shin Hankyu, but at less than half the price...), I catch a taxi to Kenrokuen. This is one of Japan's top three gardens (reportedly, the best). The others are Korakuen in Okayama and one more that I can't remember. This garden (or park in western terms) and the nearby castle date to the mid-16th century. It was the private playground of the feudal Maeda clan until opened to commoners like me in 1871.

As my guide babbles ceaselessly in JPN, I nod appreciatively, though I am only catching about every third word.

A light snow is falling so I open the white plastic umbrella that the hotel lent me. Supposedly, each season brings unique views and colors to the 28+ acres in this park. Of course this includes Sakura (cherry blossoms) in early spring—over 300 trees worth. December is no less dramatic.

From the first day of each November trees all over Kenrokuen (and around Kanazawa) are tied up with maypole-like poles and yuki-tsuri (snow rope) supports that protect them from the heavy, wet snow of this region. Annual rope tie bill: US$1.5 million.

The walk from Kenrokuen to the 21st C Museum takes just five minutes. Fifteen minutes later, having asked directions three times, I arrive at the one-story, circular glass-wall museum.

"The [current] exhibition, ‘Alternative Paradise,’ prepares a platform to discuss the value of koegi, literally ‘craft art,’ beyond any limit of genre classification,” says the museum brochure. Oh really? I won’t bore you (further) with their pained justification of the mish-mash of works represented here.

The past ten years have seen a boom in new museums and restorations. Perhaps, the most famous is architect Frank Gehry’s Guggenheim which opened in Bilbao, Spain in 1997. It showed the world and every local tourism authority that a well-designed museum—especially one with a world-class architect—could bring in the tourist dollars, yen and euros. Nonetheless, there has been a debate as to which is more important the museum or the art which occupies it.

Arguably, the exhibitions at the Bilbao Guggenheim are but accessories. Gehry’s masterpiece is the main event. Not so with the "21st C" designed by a JPN duo, Kazuyo Sejima and Ryue Nishizawa, under the tag SANAA. Under their skilled hands, this museum is a palate on which (often) young abstract artists can display their craft/art. The extensive use of floor-to-ceiling glass on all the exterior walls and many of the interior walls attempts challenge our notions of interior and exterior.

Before leaving NY, I had the privilege of living in a mid-century glass house. And for two years in Japan, I lived in a traditional Japan house whose outer walls could be removed leaving the house open to the garden. But this museum goes beyond that forced mediation between in and out. This museum is nude, exposed to all the elements and with rich rewards.

Does it work as a building? Will the avant garde craft work currently on display stand the test of time and eventually be called art? Stay tuned.

Noguchi’s Garden in Mure

Originally written on Christmas Eve 2005

I am in Takamatsu near where the JPN/American sculptor, furniture maker, interior and stage designer, Isamu Noguchi had a studio. Since his death in 1988, his Japan atelier has been transformed into a museum

Tonight, I plan to stay two hours away in Osaka; but. I have not yet made hotel reservations. Unlike in Christian countries where families gather for Christmas, Xmas-eve in Japan is “date night.” This can include overnight at hotels, so I am having a hard time getting reservations for this evening in Osaka.

The nice young woman at the JR (Japan Rail) Travel agency located at the Takamatsu train station is being as helpful as she can; but the pickings are thin. After several calls she finally finds me a room at the Shin Hankyu Hotel Annex. Having made the mistake of staying there once before, I know it is a dreadful hotel; but it’s my own fault for not having made reservations earlier. I also book train tickets for the ride to Osaka at 4:30 and I am set.

Now, it’s 12:30 and I have a 1PM appointment to tour the Isumu Noguchi Garden Museum in Mure. The local train will not get me there till 1:03 so I opt for a taxi. The driver takes me near the museum; but, we can’t seem to find the entrance. It is clear that we are close-by so I get out rather than let the meter keep running.

As the tour starts (exactly at 1PM), Ikeda-san introduces herself to me. Since I am the only non-JPN person today, I am treated to what amounts to a private tour. This studio/work area is pretty much as Noguchi left it with 40-50 works in various stages of (in)completion. Ikeda-san points out that one stone still has the making indicating that it was shipped to JPN via Kobe.

Isamu Noguchi was born in 1904 to a American mother and JPN father. He grew up in Japan but moved to the US at age 13. Much of his adult life, he was based in New York—designing furniture, lamps as well as stage sets for Modern dance icon Martha Graham. His work, particularly in his latter years, owes much to his JPN ancestry. His Akari lamp series is a modern abstract take on the typical JPN paper lantern. If I were more of an entrepreneur, I would have a link here for you to buy one of these lamps. I will point out that museum memberships are available. Operators are standing by…

Noguchi’s atelier is a huge building with high ceilings which originally served as a sake distillery. He had the wooden structure moved to Mure, Takamatsu to house a 3.6 meter high “Energy Void.” According to Ikeda-san the building then was reconstructed around the artwork.

Next to Noguchi’s fossilizing atelier is the working studio of Isumi-san. The ping ping ping of his assistant’s mallets brings a much need life to the atmosphere. As we talk about Isumi-sensei, it turns out that Ikeda-san and I have a mutual friend in Sapporo, M-san, the affable and cultured proprietor of the elegant Bar N43 in that city in northern Japan.

"Energy Void"

The real delight this afternoon comes as we move to Noguchi’s home and the garden that rises up on the hill behind it. Only a few trees adorn this “garden.” But the slopes sculpted out of the hills now barren in the winter cold are, nonetheless, so romantic that one can imagine the bold movement’s of Martha Graham’s lithe dancers.

Chichu Museum on Naoshima

Originally written on December 23, 2005 PM

Biking along the road I approach a divide that indicates my hotel is to the left and Chichu Museum is to the right. I know that I can get to the museum by taking the road past my hotel; but, I assume that this is a short cut. It ends up being the steepest road I have ever ridden up. Even first gear on the bike was not enough. Twice, I get off to walk. Is this what they mean my suffering for art?

Finally, I am at the ticket booth. I ask if staying at a hotel owned by the museum’s sole benefactor makes me eligible for any discount. Who ever said that JPN people can’t say no, never asked for a discount.

I gather that the approach to the Chichu Museum is designed to recall the path way to a tea house. When going to a tea ceremony, so I am told, you pass through a garden and a sometimes somewhat difficult pathway before entering the tranquility of the tea house—something, typically JPN, about preparing you for a Zen experience.

Getting into the Chichu is just as arduous; but well worth it. Architect-de-jour Ando is at his best at this palace of art built to house permanent installations by three artists: a so-so monumental work by American Walter De Maria; two sublime works by James Terrell and five breathtaking pieces from Monet’s “Water Lilly” series. The latter are hung in a sauna-like white room that makes you feel that you are actually entering his misty works.

Last year my niece, Sydney, took me to sculpture museum in Dallas (designed by Renzo Piano). Sydney is a budding artist herself; but she is nine years old, so her father drove us—and paid our way. Thanks, Bro.

The Nasher Sculpture Center was my first time to see a “Terrell Room.” A built-in stone bench lines all four walls of this empty room. The walls are sloped so that when seated you recline with a view of a rectangular opening in the ceiling. That’s it. Just relax and watch the clouds go by or the sky turn from blue to purple to black at sunset. It is still not clear to me what is on exhibition here: the sky or the room which frames it so delicately. This is the combination of stone and sky is Terrell’s magic.

I think of Ms. Sydney and simplicity as I gaze upward in Chichu’s Terrell Room. Inevitably, I loose track of time and over stay my limit. I bike back to the hotel where the driver is anxiously waiting to take me back to the ferry and away from this island of hills and art and architecture.

In the Dark in Naoshima

Originally written on December 23, 2005 AM

Where I grew up, Long Island, NY, nearly everything is flat. So it always surprises me that mountains jet up out of the sea here in Japan. Naoshima is no exception and this museum cum hotel has a beautiful view of the coastline below and the other islands in the distance.

I rent a bike from the hotel and set out to explore this island which has over the past 15 years transformed itself into an 8.13 kilometer (5+miles) exhibition space for late 20th century art. In many ways it’s still a sleepy island with a mix of fishing and light industry. Naoshima is as unlikely a venue for cutting edge art and architecture as is Bilbao in Northern Spain’s Basque region. Yet, the Chichu Museum here (also designed by Ando) serves the same purpose as does the Guggenheim in Bilbao: tourism.

Before heading to the Chichu, I visit three “Art” houses, century old structures that have been transformed to exhibition spaces. The most stunning is done by “light artist” James Turrell. I put light in quotation marks because while his installations usually are sublime manipulations of light and color, this one is about the absence of light. The attendant takes me by hand into a pitch black room and helps me onto a bench.

My friend Borris tells me that there is a restaurant in France which has no light as all the staff are blind. I no longer believe him. The experience of being in complete blackness is too eerie to be a restaurant theme.

In this totally blackened room, “The Back Side of the Moon,” there is no difference between having my eyes open and shutting them. What a bizarre and moving experience. It reminds me how they use sensory deprivation as a torture tactic in Season Five the Fox TV series “24.”

Art imitates art.

A Night at a Museum: Benesse House

Originally written on December 22, 2005 PM

I made it from Okayama to Uno. Now I am on the ferry to Naoshima. [shima = island in JPN]. For the first time I understand that, yes, Japan is an archipelago. The sun is setting as the noisy ferry beats a path through icy waters toward the tiny island which is my final destination for today.


Last Christmas, I spent in Texas with my whole family. I puddle-hopped from Tokyo to LA to Dallas/Ft Worth, then San Fran and back. And was able to reconnect with friends and family all along the way. This year I have opted for a quieter (read less expensive) tour of museums around Japan.

My first stop over is at the Tadao Ando-designed Benesse Hotel. Ando is one of Japan’s most famous contemporary architects. In fact, last year, I went to his recently completed Modern Art Museum of Ft. Worth with mother, my brother, niece and nephew. This hotel hosts a nice collection of contemporary art and the public areas function as a museum. Basically, I am spending the first night of my trip in a museum.

For more info on Benesse House see Time Magazine's Photo Essay

Shinkansen-spotting in Japan

Orginally written December 22, 2005

“Ladies and gentlemen, we will soon make a brief stop in Kyoto” a sickly sweet voice over-enunciates in English. “Passengers bound for…please change trains here.”

Right now, I am on a Shinkansen (bullet) train traveling from Tokyo to a place called Uno (?) from there I will take a ferry to Naoshima. I have to change trains in Okayama. The whole trip should take about five plus hours. But, contrary Japan’s train system’s stellar reputation for being on time, we are running 42 minutes late. I gather that the trains are running more slowly than usual due to the snow. Don’t they have snow every year?

The towns that line the tracks, some quaint, some industrial, are blanketed in greybluewhite snow the same shade as the cottony clouds in the sky. About an hour ago, the famous Mt. Fuji was in full view, too, like a white rose kissing the sky.

Having traveled abroad five times this year, I decided to enjoy Christmas in Japan. I started off 2005 with a run across the Golden Gate Bridge and a rousing gospel service in San Francisico’s Tenderloin district on the first Sunday. I am sure I must have made all sorts of resolutions. Despite having forgotten them by the end of January, I have made it thru another year.

One thing that I did promise to keep up with was exercising. I have now been working out with a trainer once or twice a week for 15 months. I peaked last summer when I was going to the gym up to five times a week. The effort showed in my bust and biceps. It also showed me that I could still build a buff bod; but, that I had better things to do with my time than go to the gym five times a week.

Somewhere in between Adonis and Fat Albert, I have found my groove. I can run five kilometers “up hill” for half an hour. I can bench my own weigh plus. And, I can look in the mirror without despairing. Not bad for a 45 year-old.

Next stop Shin-Kobe.

This year, I made it to NY (twice), Firenze and Bangkok. In Firenze/Florence, we stayed in lovely hotel/apartment overlooking the Ponte Vecchio. A day trip to a winery helped stock our wine cellar (under the TV cabinet) for several months.

In transit, back to Tokyo I stopped in Rome and took the train into town. Having seen so many pix of the Vatican during the Pope’s death and the subsequent coronation, I thought, here is the perfect chance to walk on holy ground. Not. The taxi took longer than I expected, so as soon as I reach the pontiff’s house, I had to get in another taxi to return to Termini (train station) least I miss my plane back home. Fortunately, the sympathetic and English-speaking driver, pointed out the sites of Rome as we drove.

This Shinkansen got more crowded at the last stop. There are now people standing in the aisle. The suited man close to me is (not so) discretely reading this text as I write. How rude of me to point it out. Alas, plus ca change.

Now, we are nearing my stop. Begging your pardon, I am going to turn this computer off and get my things in order.