When they hear the name Auguste Rodin, the first thing most people will remember (aside from him being one of the most awesome artists ever) is The Thinker: A gigantic man hunched over a rock, utterly focused on his philosophical pondering. The detailed design and musculature show off Michelangelo’s influence, but only Rodin could’ve captured that kind of expressiveness. In terms of fame in popular culture, The Thinker comparable to the Mona Lisa. What most people don’t know is that it started as part of a much bigger project (and serious contender for my all-time favorite sculpture I’ve personally seen) called The Gates of Hell. Rodin eventually decided to make this a separate work, resulting in a modern sculpting legacy. There are now over 30 Thinkers in existence, spanning museums and universities around the planet. This one is the centerpiece of the court at the Legion of Honor in San Francisco. Larger version is viewable here.
Hey, folks. If you’re into Japanese culture, festivals, or botany, chances are you’ve heard of the Hanami, more commonly known in the West as the annual Cherry Blossom Festival. Most associate it with the events in Washington DC or Macon, but San Francisco’s tradition has been going strong for almost five decades. I happened to be in the Bay Area this year – my travel months usually fall between April and May – so I decided to go for the first time. The festival lasted two weekends in a row, but that wasn’t enough time to do everything; I settled for going each Saturday and seeing what I could. The results were mixed, but it was an awesome experience overall.
I hadn’t been to Japantown in a couple of years, so I’d forgotten how much of a walk it took to get up there. It’s certainly BART-able; I’m in decent shape, so the 1.5 mile trek (most of it uphill) was a nice warmup. The official website even recommends that you take the bus, but I wanted to save money and get some exercise in. However, it’s understandable why everyone just takes public transit; if you’re going to Japantown from the Financial District on foot, you have to go through the city’s dreaded Tenderloin. You’ll never see such a sudden and drastic change in atmosphere. Just a few blocks from the flashy lights and trendy stores of Union Square, there are boarded-up windows, seedy bars, crime, prostitution, and more homeless than you’ll see anywhere else in the city. Most depictions of San Francisco conveniently overlook this area. Pretty sure those red double-decker tour buses never drive on Turk Street, lest those high-paying visitors see something horrifying and tell their friends. I love wandering the city in my spare time, but I typically make a beeline onto Geary and call it a day. However, the Tenderloin is redeemed by its incredible art; it’s so easy to stumble across a gorgeous mural and varied architecture.
Japantown was another story entirely. I was used to seeing the place on weekday afternoons; a peaceful, quiet district that happened to house every geeky anime and video game thing I could want. But this time, the square surrounding the Peace Pagoda was crammed full of people. I don’t like crowds; they feel suffocating and draining to me. There were hundreds of people sitting in rows of chairs, or standing at the nearby railings, all eagerly anticipating the drum performance by the iconic Taiko Dojo. I couldn’t find a good place to see the show, so I decided to wander. What struck me wasn’t just the amount of people, but how many of them were cosplayers. I’ve never been to Comic Con or any major geek convention, let alone seen these dedicated and creative fans in person. For example, I immediately bumped into this familiar fellow:
That’s aside from Junior from RWBY, No-Face from Spirited Away, Mega Man, a mini Gundam, Ryuko Matoi from Kill la Kill, a couple Harry Potters, and at least three Soras (one even had a metal keyblade!) from Kingdom Hearts. Not to mention all the people in their gothic and sweet lolita outfits; I think that fashion style rocks, and I wish I were confident/pretty enough to pull off the look. Or any cosplaying for that matter; I actually considered going as Vincent Volaju, but the weather was too warm for a trench coat. I also didn’t to come off as one of those creepy guys that stalks and takes pictures of these coplayers at conventions, so I kept my photography to objects and performances. It was probably to my detriment, though; I was surrounded by literally thousands of other geeks, but I didn’t actually talk with anyone. I thought I’d gotten a handle on this whole introversion thing. Sigh. There’s always next year…
I spent most of the time exploring some old haunts at the indoor Japantown Center. If you’re a local and don’t like buying your anime/gaming memorabilia online, chances are you’ll find your products here here. Japantown Collectibles has a decent selection of models (though Ying’s Hobbies in Chinatown has a vastly superior Gundam selection), as well as several Play Arts Kai and other statues. Japan Video & Media is essentially a one-stop shop for anime DVDs, as well as decent variety of plushies, posters, and other memorabilia. That also apparently includes body pillows (?!) printed with famous characters; I’m pretty sure I’ve mentioned having a childhood crush on Sailor Mars, but nowhere near the point of cuddling up to a picture of her! There’s also the Kinokuniya Bookstore, which has an absolutely massive selection of Japanese texts, both translated or otherwise. The lower floor is dedicated to manga and gaming; while the average Barnes & Noble stocks a shelf or two of manga at most, this was practically an entire store’s worth of comics! Their art book selection is impressive as well. I was sorely tempted to pick up UDON’s Street Fighter and Bayonetta works, but I kept my temptation in check. These places are a wonderland for collectors and hardcore fans…but they don’t come cheap. Anime products released stateside – DVDs in particular – suffer from serious price gouging. After making a mental wishlist, I left the stores without regret.
Instead, I focused on the artist’s alley. It wasn’t huge; there were a dozen booths spread out near the shopping center’s main staircase. These folks know their clientele; everyone was selling some kind of print, pin, or bead sprite depicting characters from popular series. Stuff from Super Mario Bros., The Legend of Zelda, Metroid, Pokemon, Dragon Ball Z, Metal Gear Solid, Sailor Moon, Persona 4, Batman, Guardians of the Galaxy…the characters go on and on and on. I looked at each table three times before settling on a signed print of this Okami work by Wenqing Yan, famously known as yuumei on DeviantArt. I’ve been a fan of her work for years, but I never thought I’d ever see her in person. On the way out, I stopped by Katachi and bought a nice, sturdy machete. I’d been meaning to replace my old one for months, so I didn’t want to pass on the opportunity. The 25” blade was too large to fit in my backpack – the hilt was stick out of the back – but thankfully no one on BART noticed.
I spent the rest of the afternoon exploring the booths outdoors. There were plenty of other local artists (The Bamboo Whisperer is still my favorite!) but I focused on the food. There was a small – but quite successful – vendor selling freshly cooked Japanese cuisine. It was a selection of edamame, takoyaki, and karaage. I’m not a foodie by any means, but their karaage was easily the most delicious thing I’ve had this year. I’m actually tempted to look up some recipes. The most popular food seller, however, was the Hello Kitty Cafe Truck. Seriously, that’s a real thing. They were selling a small assortment of boxed desserts, including donuts, mini cakes and, macarons, as well as bottled lemonade and t-shirts. The line for this smorgasbord of sugary adorableness stretched down – and through – most of the street. There were at least a couple hundred people in front of me; after 20 minutes and only a few feet, I gave up. I managed to score a free box of Pocky from another truck, so it wasn’t a total loss.
After enjoying a performance by the Nihon Buyo Kiyonomoto and picking up some commemorative stamps for my grandmother, I made the mistake of leaving early. I did not want to walk back to BART at night. Also, I somehow missed the post that showed the full schedule of events; I didn’t know that I was missing out on kendama and ikebana demonstrations, the cosplay chess tournament, and tea ceremonies. After realizing my mistake later on, I was determined to return and see more.
Armed with a schedule and a map, I returned to Japantown on the 18th. I stopped long enough to watch another Taiko Drum performance, but kept walking. I skipped all the stores I’d visited previously – though I did pick up two boxes of Harajuku Mochi Chocolates at Nippon-Ya – and made a beeline for the Bonsai and Suiseki Exhibit at Issei Memorial Hall. There were at least a couple dozen entries from the Marin Bonsai Club, the Yamato Bonsai Kai, and a few other groups. I did at least five laps around that room, taking as many shots of those amazing plants as I could. Growing a bonsai requires patience and dedication, so I was stunned by the 60-year old Chinese Elm on display. The exhibit deserved far more attention; I’m glad to be one of the relative few to enjoy it.
Afterwards, I headed upstairs just in time to catch the Iaido demonstration by the Nishi Kaigen Iaido Dojo. I’ve played enough video games to recognize the martial art on sight, but it’s so much cooler in person. An average person might be able to awkwardly swing a sword, but these practitioners were unbelievably smooth and precise. It was going well until one of the performers tore his foot on a staple in the stage’s carpet. I was standing off to the side, so I got a glimpse of the bloody injury before the man was carted off by the EMTs. In order to save face, the remaining iaidoka had the audience push the chairs back, then continued the show in front of the stage. They were followed by the Azama Honryu Seifu Ishisenkai USA and Kinuko Mototake Dance Academy, a troupe that specializes in traditional dances from Okinawa. Their performances were slow and relaxing – an older fellow sitting next to me kept falling asleep – but quite elegant. I’ll have a few more videos for them up soon. On the way out, I stopped by the Washi Ningyo table at the back. There were several detailed paper dolls (including a miniature taru mikoshi!) on display. The owner invited me to an upcoming workshop, but I haven’t decided to go yet.
On the way out of the building, I stumbled across a shodo (aka Japanese calligraphy) demonstration. I’ve never studied it, so it was fascinating to watch this group of elderly folk make beautiful art from just ink and paper. The placement of the characters, the shading, the coordination involved…it was so good. And to think, this is initially taught as a mandatory elementary school subject. Do we even teach cursive to American grade-schoolers anymore?! Once the show was over, the calligraphers gave out personalized trinkets to the kids. I sheepishly asked for my name on a fan, which is now proudly displayed on my desk. Coincidentally, I came across another shodo desk when I went back through Osaka Way. Not only did they give me a second personalized fan, but a mini wall scroll with “Knowledge” painted on it. I also stopped by Forest Books; it doesn’t have Kinokuniya’s huge selection, but focuses more on Asian culture, history, and politics. Definitely worth visiting if you’re looking for more obscure texts.
With the day winding down, I had one more objective: the Hello Kitty Cafe Truck. This was my last chance to pick up some desserts for my relatives, and I didn’t want to come back empty-handed. The line wasn’t so bad this time; about 20 minutes later, I walked away with a box of donuts, five macarons, and a cute little tote bag. Yes, I truly earned the swagging rights. I also stumbled across the real mikoshi on my way out; unlike the doll version, this one was decked up out intricate patterns and golden trimmings. A few kimono-clad women were offering people some free sake, but they ran out by the time I walked over. I don’t drink – sparkling cider is the strongest beverage I’ve tried – but it would’ve been an interesting experience. On my way out of the Peace Plaza, I stopped to watch the UC Berkeley Yosakoi Group perform their dances. Such a strong, awesome show was the perfect way to finish my day.
As I walked back down Geary and onto BART, I thought about what I’d seen over the last two Saturdays. The Cherry Blossom Festival is an interesting blend of both old and new; the younger folks enjoying their modern forms of art, while still appreciating the traditions of their predecessors. With all the manga, anime, and games permeating Japanese pop culture, it’s so easy to overlook how they were influenced and inspired by the creativity of the older generations. Not everyone cares about the humanities, but judging by the turnout, they’re won’t be forgotten any time soon. Hopefully next year’s festivities will be even better!
Oh, and one last thing. In a bit of irony, I didn’t see any cherry blossoms at the festival. Due to the stormy weather we had a couple of weeks back, all of the usually gorgeous trees were completely bare. There were more cherry blossoms in my front yard, for crying out loud! There’s always next year…
I celebrated Chinese New Year in San Francisco this past weekend. I had a really cool continuous shot through the festival recorded, but the video file is too big for both YouTube and Vimeo. The only footage I was able to upload was this Lion Dance from the Yau Kung Moon organization. Five Chinese lions paraded around Chinatown, stopping at various storefronts and giving impromptu performances. I was lucky enough to get close before the crowds started following them.
Hey, folks. Today’s Daily Prompt is all about art and life. Specifically, what would happen if you’re favorite work of art suddenly came to life. In my case, it would be…well, messy. Very messy. The Winged Victory of Samothrace stands majestically at the top of the Daru staircase at The Louvre. I saw it in person in 2007, and the pictures don’t come close to capturing its awesomeness. But if that ancient marvel suddenly sprung to life? It would probably topple down that huge flight of stairs, crushing dozens of tourists along the way. Since it lacks arms and a head, it probably wouldn’t be able to regain its balance or bearings. Unless it has some weird form of echolocation buried deep within its stony chest. Also, not having a head might be a good thing, because it would spare onlookers from the screams that would come from the suddenly self-aware monstrosity. How would it breathe? Does living stone even need oxygen? Assuming it doesn’t, it still wouldn’t be able to move very well. The sculpture is five and half meters tall; those wings look amazing, but there’s no way they’d be capable of flight. How durable is parian marble, anyway? They might just break off. In the end, the sculpture would end up like a wild animal tapped inside a room: feebly crashing into walls and objects in a frantic attempt to escape. I can just imagine an aged museum curator, armed with a hammer and a chisel, solemnly approaching and putting the thing out of its misery. It’d be like Old Yeller, but with classic art, French police, and tourists with camera phones.
Wow, that got grim fast.
Okay, let’s assume that the sculpture can actually function like a living creature and interact with people. The Winged Victory was designed to honor both the gods and a sea battle. The base represents a ship’s prow, giving the image of a goddess coming down to a victorious fleet. Just look at that pose: she’s graceful, even when the ocean breeze is making her robes ripple. The sculpture is also called Nike of Samothrace, which is probably the more accurate title; Nike was the Greek goddess of victory, strength, and speed. No wonder the shoe brand was named after her. She flew around battlefields and rewarded the victors with glory and fame. So if she were revived in modern times, she’d make a beeline for the nearest armed conflict. She’d probably have to wait a while, though; there are nearly as many wars anymore, and the relative few still going have no clear victors. Maybe she’ll settle for the World Series instead.
Hey, folks. Don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there’s only a week left in February. Most people (in the states, anyway) associate this month with holidays like Valentine’s Day and Martin Luther King Jr. Day, and the occasional Leap Year bizarreness. With all that stuff to think about, it’s easy to overlook the month itself. Aside from being the shortest of the twelve, February is the hardest to pronounce. Seriously, try saying February out loud. Correctly.
Go on, don’t be shy.
Yeah, that ‘r’ in the middle doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue. You’ve got the Romans to thank for the awkwardness. February comes from the Latin term februum, which means purification. It refers to Februalia, a purification ritual held on the 15th. Rather than scrubbing up the house, their version of spring cleaning was more about the cleansing of the self; there was a focus on sacrifices and atonement for previous misdeeds. Not exactly the Valentine’s Day you were expecting, was it? It makes sense, considering that February used to be the last month on the calendar; what better way to kick off New Year’s than cleansing yourself of the past?
The idea caught on so well that it even got its own deity. Februus was the Roman god of – you guessed it – purification. He lived in the underworld, which would’ve taken the whole cleansing thing to the spiritual level. The Etruscans also considered him a god of wealth and the dead, which means he had to share the spotlight with Pluto, the ruler of the afterlife. I’m pretty sure you can figure out who won that popularity contest. You can’t get much cooler than being King of the Afterlife. Or having a wife as awesome as Persephone, for that matter. Just think, our last planet-that’s-not-actually-a-planet could’ve been called Februus.
Oh, and watch your spelling and pronunciation. Februus could easily be mistaken for Febris, the Roman goddess of fevers and malaria. Because those usually involve a completely different kind of cleansing.
Hey, folks. We’re about halfway through January already. But have you ever thought about why the first month of the year is called “January”? Well, it’s all thanks to Janus. No, not the James Bond villain from Goldeneye. No, not one of Saturn’s moons. Like a lot of modern naming conventions, it goes back to the Romans. According to Cicero and other ancient writers, Janus was their god of beginnings and transitions. It sounds kind of lame at first glance, but there some awesome implications when you think about it. Every gate, door, ending, marriage, harvest, boundary, and shifts between war and peace were his domain. This guy was responsible for the flow of time itself. He even had two faces (no, not like that one guy) just so he could look into both the past and the future at the same time.
And you thought Doc Brown was awesome.
“January” is a reference to Janus by way of the Latin word Ianuarius. It – along with Februarius – were supposedly added to the calendar by Numa Pompilius, the legendary second king of Rome. That dude was responsible for creating a lot of religious and cultural traditions in the empire, some of which still lingers in modern times. Ever hear the term “vestal virgin”? Yeah, that was his idea. So was the construction of Ianus geminus, the Temple of Janus. It had doors on both ends (of course!) which were only shut during peacetime. That last part was really rare, because, you know, it was Ancient Rome. If you were a king and got to close the temple to symbolize peace for the empire, you earned some serious bragging rights. It’s like having “Won the Nobel Prize” on your resume.
Oh, one last thing: Today’s entry was posted on January 14th. According to some Roman calendars, today is marked as dies vitiosus. It basically means that something is bad or faulty about that specific day. One calendar, the Fasti Verulani, gives us the reason: it was Mark Antony’s birthday. You know, the guy who loved Cleopatra so much that he betrayed the empire and tried to go to war against Augustus? Even if you’re not well-versed in history, I’m pretty sure you can figure out how well that went down. Let’s just say the consequences (both short and long-term) were…messy. You know you’ve messed up when your enemies can legally declare your birthday to be inherently evil.
Happy December, folks. When I was looking up tattoo ideas for the recent Daily Prompt, I was reminded of a strange but all-too common symbol. If you look around enough in your medical institution, you might stumble across this image:
Weren’t expecting to see snake during your check-up, were you? But don’t worry, this one’s here to help. It’s part of the symbol called the Rod of Asclepius. Go ahead, try saying that out loud. If you’re a med student, chances are you’ve seen the name in the Hippocratic Oath. For good reason, too. Asclepius was the god of medicine in Ancient Greece. He inherited his expertise from none other than Apollo, who was no slouch in the health care department. He was married to Epione, the goddess of soothing. Their strangely appropriate relationship resulted in a whole family of healers, particularly Hygieia (the goddess of…well, hygiene) and Panacea, the goddess of universal remedy and pretty much every status effect-curing item in RPG history.
Who says video games aren’t educational?
But here’s the question: Why did it it have to be snakes? Actually, it’s kind of been snakes all along. Snakes and power go way, way back, and not just to the Greeks. You’d be hard-pressed to find an ancient culture that doesn’t use it. Have a bible handy? Try skimming it and see how much snake/power imagery you can find. Here’s a hint: Moses. As for Asclepius, the snake could represent rejuvenation and renewal via the shedding of its skin. Or it could’ve been referencing the supposed medicinal properties of snake products. There have been references to venom being used as an remedy. Can you imagine all the wild snakes slithering around those ancient healing temples? And you thought your medical plan was terrible. At least the rod is more straightforward (no pun intended); it’s always been associated with things like wisdom, knowledge, age, etc.
Now, here’s the tricky thing. Let’s say you go to doctor and see this in the waiting room:
See the difference? The Caduceus looks pretty badass, doesn’t it? It got two snakes, and wings! If you’re in the Medical Corps, you probably see it every day. The symbol especially prevalent in American medicine, where it’s been in use since the 1850s. And yeah, people noticed. The Caduceus is associated with Hermes, the famed messenger of the gods. He was in charge of transitions, usually from life to the afterlife. He’s the patron of many things, among them travelers, literature, sports, thieves, invention, trade, and commerce…but not medicine. The reason for the two snakes? He saw them fighting and put his staff between them, thus ensuring peace. It’s a classic commentary of the necessity of knowledge and communication. It’s also a chilling but oddly appropriate prediction of the state of modern medicine. Associations with commerce, theft, and death aren’t exactly reassuring when you’re getting a physical. However, no one can dispute that health care has come a long way since Ancient Greece. We may not use snakes for medicine anymore, but they’re still all around us.
Oh, fun fact: Asclepius was supposedly killed by Zeus because he started bringing people back from the dead. Imagine if our modern medicine symbols were for necromancy instead. Suddenly, getting flu shots doesn’t seem so bad.