Everyone looks away when the needle darts into the vein

Last weekend I was invited along to go see the new "Gothic" exhibit at the Yokohama Museum of Art. Without too many details up front, it seemed like a good chance to learn about the current obsession with the genre from a new perspective. For the unaware, Japan has embraced all varieties of "Gothic" subculture - from freaky to cutesy. So what exactly does "Gothic" mean? Why do I keep surrounding it in quotes? Simply, language is inconveniently subjective and sometimes one can't attempt define a term without opening up a can of worms. Like most words, its meaning has mutated and evolved over time, and when applied to a culture it becomes infinitely more complex, leaving everyone with their own idea of what the word represents.

That said, I won't try to cover the etymology of anything, but instead focus on the exhibit and what it meant to me. I'll also cease capitalizing and quoting because it's annoying as hell.

The original description of the exhibit promised a look into the contemporary gothic culture in Japan. The first thing that came to my mind was the fashion that is ever-present here. Among the most popular merchandise here are cute characters such as Hello Kitty, which is why I was surprised to find that those from The Nightmare Before Christmas were also branded onto many store items. While each might seem like necessities to counter-culture, the kawaii and kowai (cute, scary) both have a part in this same gothic genre.

At the start was a collection of art focusing on exposing the more macabre side to the meaning of gothic. Using prints taken from 1950s-era magazines, the artist decorated the men and women with elaborate patterns and symbols evocative of death, drawn to look like tattoos (another eerie sight for the Japanese). The original, faded gray feel of the medium made this work well. Later, larger painted scenes of humans and demons with angry or sexual themes also established the morbid feel the rest of the gallery would bring. Each display was more bizarre than the last - examples include human-like portraits being constructed with colorful organs or other imagery cut-and-pasted from medical diagrams, or another set assembled with pieces from dismembered insects such as butterflies.

In spite of the museum's attempt to explain gothic culture, it seemed to instead enjoy shocking the patrons with discomforting imagery. One interesting exhibit was equipped with projectors showing various stages of life, but all in agonizing ways: the baby was left abandoned on a tile floor, crying and trying ot crawl out of its predicament, the middle-aged man was rolling around outside in agony while slowly becoming surrounded by barbed wire, and the older patient had her blood drawn and was painting sunny scenes with it. All in all, it was beyond adequate description, and served to unnerve everyone who was exposed to it.

There were more exhibits, but the only ones describing the Japanese youth and the related subcultures were limited to photography. A collection of (mainly female) people in their rooms, showcasing the various extremes they went to: elaborate, handmade costumes, old-fashioned dolls, Victorian style furnishings, or whatever they happened to take interest in. Those pictured had dedicated most of their living spaces and wardrobe to this alternative style. Some going as far as body augmentation to reach the ideal image they had envisioned for themselves. In fact, the last exhibit was a series of self-portraits following both a mental and physical male-to-female transformation.

While at first things seemed disjointed, after sitting around in the cafe and discussing it, we concluded that the entire purpose was to show how people will form an ideal image for themselves, then work towards realizing it. In a largely homogeneous society such as Japan's, this is one inviting way to break free from the bland. As to why the macabre element appeals, maybe because of its shocking nature, it feels foreign and exciting, drawing in those still possessing a morbid curiosity and driving away those without. The thing I wonder about most when looking at the revealing portraits of Japanese goths, is how long they will continue to live the lifestyle. Surely it is difficult to eschew the norms of society while hoping to earn a living within it.

Either way, I wish them luck in balancing their lives - it certainly makes my day a bit brighter to see fashion that doesn't involve a Burberry scarf or Louis Vuitton bag. And everyone could certainly benefit from exposure to a counter-culture that challenges their everyday assumptions.

Ski ga suki

The week following the amusement park adventure, a huge group of people from the company and their various friends went to Nagano-ken for some winter fun. We had such a massive group that it was useful to rent a night bus of our own to travel there and back. The hotel we chose provided reasonably cheap Japanese-style (futon on tatami, no beds) furnishings and was a short walk from the slopes. When we arrived at 6 or 7 in the morning, it was almost too bright from the sun's reflection on the freshly-fallen snow.

After a bit of confusion trying to check in, we headed to the mountain to get equipped. Most people elected snowboards, but since I had engaged in a winter sport like this only once before, I went with what I knew best: skis. Mind you, I'd only done cross-country skiing one time, and many years before; downhill proved to be a tad different! All things considered, I think I did a damn good job for what was essentially my first time. Physics class finally payed off a bit, and it helped that turning on skis is a bit similar to leaning for turns on a bike or motorcycle.

That said, I'm happy that the snow is significantly softer than concrete, because one consequence of my dive into learning was that I was unfortunately diving into the ground a lot. Yet, I'm proud of my fearlessness in the face of.. face-planting: it enabled me to quickly learn the dos and don'ts - and much quicker than I expected. By the end of the first day, I had even gone down the "intermediate" course (admittedly skiing half and falling half ;) without too much permanent brain damage. (To give you an idea, there are parts to that course where you question if there is in fact a slope or just a cliff in front of you!)

One strange thing about skiing: it's harder to maneuver while standing calmly than while flying at violent speeds down the crowded beginner's course. Even if it was awkward for me while moving slowly, the poor snowboarders have to unstrap on of their feet and shuffle toward a slope since without inertia, there's no way for them to self-propel. It also seemed like you'd fall on your ass a lot more with a board. I think they make up for it with far fewer head-first falls.

The scenery from atop the mountain was absolutely, breathtakingly incredible. It was hard to ski at times because I felt like I was missing another rare sight. Japan has no shortage of mountains, but there's a significant difference between looking up at them and looking down on them. Furthermore, the ones in view were snowy, steep, and adorned with trees. The valley below held a thin veil of fog and the tallest mountains appeared to melt into the clouds above. When looking from the peak, you wonder who was the first explorer to brave his life for this sight - there's a certain romanticism to the idea that the technology in our modern world cannot comprehend.

I took no pictures. I'm pleased with the idea that only my eyes savored the sights on that mountain. Besides, everyone and their mother brought a camera, so I can get the pictures from them without having had to sacrifice any of my concussion-time.

We stayed two days, and the first was significantly more pleasant than the second. The human body is a fantastic and wonderful thing except for when any motion brings you immediate pain; such were the majority of us after waking up. The breakfast hall looked like it was catering to a bunch of vegetarian zombies. (Insert odd Japanese dish here: onsen-tamago - literally hot-spring egg - consists of a half-boiled egg served in cold water from a local onsen. If it were hot, maybe, but wow was that an unpleasant sensation.)

The next day on the slopes was fine and all, but by the end of the day, I wasn't interested in anything besides returning to a mattress for recovery. A few days later (after functioning at about 10% capacity at work), most everything was alright. The only longterm setback has been a jammed thumb, but the swelling and freaky discoloring has gone, leaving only a bit of weakness and pain. It should heal up soon enough I imagine.

The following Friday, I was sick with a fever. By Saturday it had already broken. It was fortunate to have happened on a weekend, and I only missed a half-day of work. Not too bad, except for the many trips to the bathroom in-between. Oh well, one day out of the year isn't bad considering the people here often only wash their hands with cold water and are densely packed on trains.