The Art of Gaming in Japan: EAS299 Final Project

“We’re just emerging from infancy. We’re still making The Great Train Robbery or Birth of a Nation, or, to be really generous, maybe we’re at the beginning of what might be called our talkies period.” This quote is from Warren Specter, designer of titles such as SimCity and Spore [1]. He is discussing the state of video game’s development at large, however, this quote was taken from an interview that took place a decade ago. Since that point, games have grown not just as an industry, but also in terms of their complexity and ability to function as an aspiring medium for art. Games have inspired the branching plot structure of films like Run Lola Run, and blurred the line between reality and the virtual space, inspiring films like The Matrix [2]. Japanese games in particular have forged a specific style. One that is reminiscent of the culture and art that has proceeded it.

            Let us consider the difference in a semiotic analysis of something like a statue or painting as opposed to a piece of software. A painting is there; all of its imagistic representations are conveyed in a single frame, and the observer needs no pre-requisite skills to produce meaning. Much like how films are analyzed in a variety of ways, so is the analysis of a video game. Images are delivered at 30+ frames per second, so there’s certainly plenty to look at. However, a strong analysis would also consider the construction of the game, coined simply as “game design.”

            Gaming has only been considered a possible art medium within the last 20 years. While fresh in the minds of artistic connoisseurs, specific Japanese games bear styles that call out to the ukiyo-e prints of the 17^th century. Okami is one of these games, a title that is faithful to a highly distinct painterly style. Within the game, you will actually paint Japanese characters with a on-screen brush to execute certain abilities. The hard, defined lines and soft colors are meant to hearken back to Japan’s woodblock prints. Everything in the world of Okami is ink-like, most of the demons and locals are displayed in a streaky, borderless way. By utilizing this ink style, one is able to better detect rapid movement and fluidity in the characters. The style is decidedly aged, albeit deliberately, but the visual preferences of a contemporary gamer are never lost on developers.  

            Journalist David Sermon suggests that two of the flagship “superflat” games are Katamari Damaci and Wario Ware [5]. The term superflat, conceived by Japanese artist Takashi Murakami, is broad in its definition. First, it deals with the synthesis of Japan’s consumer culture (produced by the economy bubble in the 80’s) with the imagination and inspired spirit of art. Murakami’s own art is a prime example of this; bright popping colors, visually ensnaring and cute. Cuteness, while indicative more so of the kawaii sub-culture is also an aspect of superflat. A third aspect of superflat is its ability to inspire various sub-cultures among citizens with a product’s widely assessable visual style. Katamari, like Sermon suggests, effectively satisfies these bullet points [5]. Every one of its frames is an orgy of bright colors that pop off the screen and the palette is varied. In fact, its hard not to be reminded of Murakami’s 2002 Louis Vuitton advertisement, the style is absolutely comparable. All of the characters that inhabit the world of Katamari are unabashedly cute, often endowed with stripes of color or insect like antennas.

            Referencing to the game design of Katamari, it too is reflective of superflat inspiration. Within the game, you play as a little character that shoves around an adhesive ball deemed “Katamari.” As you roll the Katamari around the game space, everything, cars, people and buildings stick to its surface. A successful game session renders an entire digital civilization one flat color. The environment is transformed from being a 3D space to a completely flat one. As debris is stuck onto the Katamari, the speed and trajectory of its roll is changed, much like the cultural direction of post-war Japan.

            Desire an off-the-nose example of superflat gaming? How about Paper Mario? As Mario made the slow crawl from 2D to 3D, Nintendo decided it would be wise to flatten the Italian plumber once more, creating a visual style that is retrospective and relevant to Murakami’s superflat. However, in agreement with Sermon, Mario’s evil brother Wario offers more to examine.

            Wario Ware’s visuals are comparable to the likes of Katamari: bright, attractive and luscious. The art direction is purposefully designed to not be off-putting, only emitting sentiments of delight and excitement. The design of Wario Ware is perhaps more intriguing, though. The progression of the game is this: players are given a string of small “mini-games” to play through, each one lasting only a handful of seconds. This build contrasts to the staging of the typical video game, which is typically an elongated experience with the consistent use of reoccurring characters and a persistent story line. Essentially, this is a title that is very easy to pick up and put down. There is no story to discover per-say, but there is a context to explain the purpose of these mini-games. Within the fictional setting, Wario is the manager of Wario Ware Inc, a company that is attempting to indoctrinate large groups of people into enjoying these little bursts of entertainment, as opposed to a full-length title.

            An aspect of superflat is it’s the self-awareness of the commercial/consumerist cultural roots, which birthed the term. Lead designer Iwata said in an interview, “the story in the game is the story of the game.” Iwata is hopeful that the success of the Wario Ware series could shift the industry to this new paradigm of fast, pick-up-and-play gaming. The superflat qualities become highlighted when one considers that the games real-life business strategy is disclosed, quite blatantly, within the setting of the software [5]. Additional examples of this consumer awareness can be found elsewhere.

Square-Enix’s strangely titled (or perhaps mistranslated) game The World Ends With You. The game is classified as a role playing game, a genre that has flourished greatly for the Japanese culture. In an RPG game, you have a hero (or a group of heroes) and you battle and defeat monsters in order to advance and develop the strength and power of your hero. The player becomes aware that work will equal success. The World Ends With You is slightly different. You are still combating fearsome monsters, but the main expansion of your characters power comes from the donning of new outfits, specifically pins, a fashion accessory that increases a character’s ability. Here we find that consumption equals success. One can shoot a straight line through these design choices right back to Murakami’s style, right through to Japan’s fascination with fashion style. This software’s inspiration is not difficult to track when looking succinctly at the methodology that it pre-dates.

Let us take a moment to assume that the art direction in games is one of the fine arts, bearing just as much weight as anything found in an exhibition of Murakami’s. The bar from making this assumption is that games are a consumer product as well as a medium. Video games require a certain level of skill in order to access and properly manipulate all the aesthetics it has to offer, a developer must assume not everyone knows what the “A” button is. For that reason, a certain level of accessibility needs to be in place.

This vice produces an obsession with contextualization, an attempt to label all aspects of the game space so as many people as possible can enjoy its content. Let’s consider, for the sake of dichotomy, a California produced title Gears of War by Epic games. One must hold in their minds the Buddhist concept of Mujo, a complete disregard for all pre-existing labels and thoughts that come bundled with our observations of the world around us. Basically, the mountain is not a mountain. Gears of War makes a point to surround the player with mythology of the world they’re experiencing, the enemies they’re facing, even detailing the function of the weapons they wield. Due to this heap of context, the player is unable to generate any original thought or apply imagination to the game they are experiencing since all the blanks have been filled in already.

Shadow of the Colossus, developed by Team Ico in 2005, successfully escapes this obsession that other games possess. You are not told what is going on in Shadow you play as a nameless boy in a quasi-fantasy setting, you ride in on a horse, also nameless, and the world you explore in uninhabited. In fact, your overall objective is left to mystery; nothing is spoon-fed to the player in terms of purpose or description. You are simply there, and everything else is in the hands of the player to discover. The lack of labeling allows the user to fill the space with their own original understanding and theory of what’s developing around them. This cultureless, barren realm harkens to the ideals of Mujo, where satisfaction begins with one’s own ability to perceive self-dependently. Team Ico has successfully reflected Japanese culture while dodging the hyper-contextualized structure that most other titles follow.

The aesthetics in these games are often experienced from the perspective of one character. Interestingly enough, these characters also echo visual trends found elsewhere in Japanese culture. Cloud is the protagonist from Final Fantasy VII, one of the best selling RPGs of all time; any Japanese gamer has been familiarized with him. His gaze is turned away, a pensive and pathos expression wears his face. This is a staging that remains consistent across hundreds of Japanese gaming avatars. A man or woman so seized by feeling or mental peril that they look outwards. As a matter of fact, Cloud’s last name is purposefully chosen as “Strife.” This gaze is found ever so commonly in the geisha, whose sensitivity is accentuated by their removal from the now.

            This is a character from the popular series Kingdom Hearts; she is also highly comparable to the geisha. This series also lends itself to notions of superflat, as well. The term deals with mercantile, but also with the aesthetic exchange and westernization of Japanese style. In Kingdom Hearts, one finds a blend of popular Final Fantasy and Disney characters, in addition to set pieces from American hits like Aladdin and Beauty and the Beast. This was a decision made in order to maximize sales world wide, while a clear distinction between the East and West is bordered right within the game setting.

            Mizuno Junko’s art is known for her signature clash of kawaii cute and adult sexuality and brutally. Although her work spans her own line of condoms and lubricant, her art always shows images of women posed provocatively, usually among gore and violence. This “sweet violence” is found in video games as well. Lollipop Chainsaw is a future release by Platinum Games. On the right, we see all three of these Junko staples combined, sex, violence and innocence, as shown by the high school cheerleader garb. 

       Interesting to note is the face of the character on the left – she looks American. If not for the topic of this project, one could likely assume she was from a game developed stateside. Much like Kingdom Hearts, this design is utilized in order to achieve global appeal, a mercantile awareness of superflat, as well. This is not the only instance of westernized characters, either. Across all 14 Final Fantasy characters we find that the design is indicative of popular Japanese manga, while the complexions are entirely Caucasian.

            Japanese game developers are highly interested in this pathos game design, a design that can be summarized within the hopeless expression of Cloud. Journey is a game released this year by That Game Company. In an interview, designer Aaron Jessie said “This studio is really about an emotional experience. Experience is the number one thing the studio goes for [4].” The visuals of Journey are absolutely striking. Polar opposite to the likes of Katamari, it’s look is clean, immaculate and deliberately bland. The game follows a similar mujo structure, much like Shadow. The player is unsure of what to do or where to go. They are in a world where a high peak is off in the distance, and the landscape slowly draws you towards its crest. Linearity is not involved however, and the player can venture to the mountain any way they choose.

            Nara Yoshimoto has made many of these kinds of paintings, an innocent child floating abound seemingly aimless in her direction. The environment, akin to the one’s in Journey are clean and barren – but purposefully so. Children, as Yoshimoto suggests, have not fully assumed the role of their minds or bodies, deeming them lost or in state of limbo. This unstructured state of development is defined by the unoccupied surroundings. Specifically in this image, the destination of home is in sight (the mountain in this case) but the path is unclear. Journey functions much in the same way; the player is lost and wandering but with a hint of initiative.

            Gaming has acted as a kind of hub for these various inspirations and artistic history that has graced the minds of Japan’s citizens. Since Warren Specter’s quote, gamers have found their hobby act as a meeting of kawaii, Japanese fashion, pathos fascination, Buddhist ideologies, and superflat ideals. Fascinating is the fact that this contemporary media is still able to represent the ukiyo-e of yester-century. These time aware aesthetics are slowly peeling away with newer releases as developers primarily focus on global sales rather than artistic fidelity and historical faithfulness. The westernization of Japanese games, in many ways, is beginning now, and the future of this digital art will surely be something to keep your gaze on.


Sources:

[1] "Games, The Lively New Art" by Henry Jenkins: HERE

[2] "Art Form for the Digital Age" by Henry Jenkins: HERE 

[3] "Some Notes on Aesthetics in Japanese Video Games (pg. 211)" by William Hurber: HERE

[4] "Interview with Aaron Jessie of ThatGameCompany:" HERE

[5] "The Cultural Economy of Ludic Superflatness" by Dean Chan: HERE

            

The Art of Gaming in Japan: A Project Update

I have been sifting through some articles online and considering my project more heavily. If you take a look at the post just below this one, you may notice I was originally going to look at the dichotomy of the visuals in gaming from the east and west. In most cases, the two are opposed completely, both in their artistic representations, but also their core game design. This is interesting, but fails to deliver any kind of concise conclusion. "Look, they aren't like one another," would be the ultimate summary of the project, and that's not compelling.

For that reason, I'll be focusing exclusively on games from Japanese developers. Often times these games reflect the look of the woodblock prints we looked at, Nara's artwork, and Murakami's superflat aesthetic. Something interesting about this research is that the visual design of these games mirrors things we've studied. More interesting is how the actual core design is reflective of some of the concepts we've talked about, primarily mujo.

This tighter scope of observation will (I hope) bring about a more focused and relevant project. Below are the sources I'll use; mostly to contextualize what I'll be talking about, the majority of the project will be dedicated to comparing the imagistic styles of the games and the sub-cultures and pre-existing Japanese art they resemble. Pardon the lateness! If anyone would be willing to drop any helpful comments I would very much appreciate it.

P.S. The images included are meant only to give examples of the kinds of games I'll be looking at. Since this is art in motion, I'll likely move through many different images and utilize videos for my PowerPoint. Thank you!

Sources:

"Games, The Lively New Art" by Henry Jenkins: HERE
"Art Form for the Digital Age" by Henry Jenkins: HERE
"Some Notes on Aesthetics in Japanese Video Games (pg. 211)" by William Hurber: HERE
"Haunting Backgrounds" by Martin Picard: HERE
"The Cultural Economy of Ludic Superflatness" by Dean Chan: HERE

Art Direction in Video Games: East vs. West

Game journalists are keen to always make the distinction between western and eastern games. This is because, in most cases, the mechanical and visual function of the two categories are opposed. Rarely, if ever, do the two influence each other. Beside the fact that the base gameplay is often different from games produced in the states, the artistic vision of Japan's games are vibrant and distinct, often taking cues from the japanese artwork and manga that came before.

My project will draw comparisons between these two parties of game development, and speculate on how the art direction in eastern gaming came to fruition. Furthermore, the ideologies of designers are often quite different one's in the west, bringing about new visions for their products beyond their look. It will be important that some element of the project focuses on the thoughts of the people who make these games, in addition to their final products.

Possible Sources:

"That Game Company Interview" Here

"Art in Service of Gameplay" Here

"Art Direction in Games is Rubbish" Here

"Interview with Nick Clark" Here

"NYCC Article" Here

Takashi Murakami + Nara Yoshitomo

(Takashi Murakami's "Cosmos")

During the 1980's, Japan's consumer culture started coming to a head. Most citizens were involved in the commercial business, allowing for some to lead a "pure consumer" lifestyle. With this cultural shift, the line between fine art and consumerism was blurred, giving way to a new face of art. Murakami is one of the flagship artists of this new movement, often combining pop-culture and consumer goods with the craftsmanship of any good art work. Many of these images have "kawaii" qualities. The innocent cuteness of these works is indicative of a time when some women could only survive in closed, anti-social environments. Murakami's creativity is fully aware of what it is, designed to expose the narcissistic nature of this new culture.

This new artistic synthesis can be spotted just in the color scheme alone. There's something almost garish about the bright, multicolored flowers (a common image of Murakami). The stylized smiles on the flowers presents this more as patron piece rather than an art piece. This kind of design would seem more suited to a children's toy or cartoon, but the tasteful (and highly deliberate) spacing of the vines helps satisfy the artistic precision. The distribution of vines allows the eyes to roll playfully down its length. "Cosmos" was painted on three joined canvases. It's difficult to discard the comparison to traditional Japanese interior - truly, it looks like a sliding door. This choice, be it deliberate or not, its powerful since it reflects the closed, introverted nature of a consumerist society.

(Nara Yoshitomo's "Home")

Nara's work often expresses a nostalgic yearning for the past. His images of fresh faced girls are conveyed through simplistic color schemes and minimalist design. In terms of his artistic output, he seems obsessed with the appearance of youth. Children are an interesting thing to focus on. They've not fully assumed the role of their body or consciousness, thus existing in a kind of limbo space where they're unbiased and not fully "formed." There's always a struggle between the real and unreal in Nara's work, a full acknowledgement of not one, but two realms of being.

The backgrounds are rarely given much attention. This presents the viewer with a clean viewing frame, sure, but this helps satisfy these concepts even more. Oceans of color, like the one above, express an exposure to the infinite, a search for equilibrium among any number of possibilities or directions. Interesting, then, that the image of this girl depicts her looking for something, in this case, a house. She's largely disassociated with her surroundings - she's not even aware of what direction she's headed in fact. The lack of realistic scale and proportion clarifies one thing: The little girl is only a piece of her surroundings by circumstance and is mostly disconnected. The scheme of color doesn't convey emotions of joy or wonder, either. In fact, there's something quite solemn and lonely about the piece.

Chizuko Yoshida's "Into the White Strata"

(1970)

Chizuko Yoshida is a woman known for her modernist (and largely abstract) art. Most of these pieces tracked the changing face of art through World War II. Something interesting is that Yoshida's husband, mother and daughter all gained popularity with their production of abstract paintings/woodblock prints. She was born in 1924, and today many of her works reside in the Yokohama Museum of Art and British Museum.

Unsurprisingly, it is not immediately apparent what this image means. A quick glance suggests a high degree of symmetrical awareness, but it's lack of symmetry is ultimately what makes it to intriguing. The two shapes that peel off the side of the boarder don't take up equal space on the sides. Furthermore, the one of the left rises just a bit higher that the one parallel to it. The two dips (before it rises to the candle-like flame) are also slightly disproportionate although though they appear to be even. The spacing of the roses is obviously off, with the bottom-most rose hanging much lower then the two above it.

Looking in the cream colored "sky" above the blue shape one will notice the color bends and winds in order to give the effect of light radiating from the candle. This kind of close detailing is not typical of Yoshida's other abstract work, most of which resembles the "construction paper" look of Strata's bottom half. The disregard of symmetry met with stylistic clashing of the two parts makes this a visually complex and comprehensive image.

A semiotic reading of this image is onerous task just due to how abstract it is. I enjoyed considering Yoshida's interesting family lineage when analyzing this image. A bloodline of three abstract women artists is not only rare, but basically unheard of in any culture. The two shapes on either side of the image, although implied, seem to me like silhouettes of people. Ayomi Yoshida, Chizuko's daughter, and Fujio, her mother could possibly be the two images on the side. They all share the same style of art, sure, but the three women's work all seem to borrow inspiration from one other.

Relating this back to the image, the three blue humps are all connected, sharing life with one another, while still maintaining unique traits (hense the lack of symmetry). Roses, the color blue, and flame all symbolize passion and zeal. All three artists have work in museums and have enjoyed private shows - clearly the sentiment of compassion shown here is mirrored in the beautiful pieces they have produced in the past.

It's a tough one. I'd like to hear other people's thoughts on the piece!

Utamaro's "Bodhidharma Crossing the Yangzi on a Reed"

(1753? - 1806)

There are many reasons to be impressed with Utamaro's delicately placed ink. Contextually, the piece is intriguing due to the deviation from his typical depictions of beautiful women. Additionally, this is one of very few (according to my searches) ink drawings he has ever worked on. While his images of beautiful geisha are brought to life by vibrent blues and rich cream colors, this is simply black and white (minus the very, very minimal staining around the top of the piece). The figure shown here was revered to be the founder of Zen Buddhism in East Asia, named Bodhidharma as the Chinese knew him.

It's a meticulously assembled piece that maintains visual consistency throughout. Bodhidharma's cloak flows seamlessly into the pattern of the water. Despite a lack of vibrancy, there is a powerful use of shading, thick black lines, and untouched canvas - the whole thing looks indefinitely Japanese. Despite it being a static image, it gives the effect of motion with its curvature; there isn't a straight line in the entire piece.

This visual momentum is complimentary to the mythology of Bodhidharma (or Daruma as Japan knew him). This was produced during the Kamakura period, where the concept was Zen was fresh to the minds of the Japanese. Daruma's depiction here is in favor of the mythology surrounding him, dead giveaways including his shriveled feet and animalistic, hairy face. Oh, and his ability travel water on a reed. In this vein of Daruma's depiction, his limbs are always wilted or wrinkled (in this particular case we only have his feet). It is as if his ability to operate in a physical world is leaving him and all the focus and energy is being forced through his head, hence the bulging eyes and piercing stare.

His stern expression is typical of Darumian artwork. More interesting is where his eyes are going. The horsehair wand in his hand is a symbol of high rank in buddhist society, but why is he focused so intently on it? It is as if he is attempting to separate the concept of the thing from the thing itself, a theological staple of zen. Daruma's trip across the Yangzi after falling out of favor with the Chinese emperor. After his flight, he meditates for nine years within a cave. So, this image in in between this transformation, his crossing of a river helps supplement.

This piece could be described as being very "tightly" designed. It's themes, accompanied with historical context are as clear as the highly readable visual technique of the ink. Everything is in motion, the image itself, the literal situation and the mind of Daruma himself.

Meiji Portrait

Japan was not always one of the world's superpowers. In fact, during the reign of Emperor Meiji, who we're looking at here, the country experienced a whole renaissance of technology and social restructuring. This cultural evolution was called the Meiji Restoration, quite fittingly. Japan knew they were falling behind the rest of the world when Commodore Perry commentated on the state of the country, asking their ports to be filled with the extravagant warships of the west. Additionally, the emperor was not trying to pull land ownership from the Daimyo to himself - a bulky task considering the feudal system in Japan was completely locked-in. Good to note is that during his lifetime, most of these things were accomplished.

The emperor's gaze is perfectly intense here. Pictures of geisha or more casual shots will often have the subject looking away from the lens. Here, the gaze is calculating and full of danger. Truth be told, he doesn't look happy, he looks tough. That being said, his posture in the chair suggests a relaxed disposition, he is both collected, stress free and bold. The picture is framed, obviously, the purposefully placed hat and side-table help to add to the visual density of the picture. In fact, the pattern of the floor compliments his garments.

What I find most striking is something unintentional in the picture's arrangement. Everything is patterned, the even the tablecloth. The only things that really have solid/smooth colors are the emperor's pants, his face, and the cracking wall behind it. It is as if, wether he will admit it or not, there is a fissure in Japanese society, creeping behind him at all times. This assessment brings about many different connotations. For instance, hard expression is demurred when one's eyes follow the crack just behind it. Perhaps this pose is a front to the reality of cultural catch-up.

Persona Though Lantern Slides

(#63)

So, who's that, you say? I wish I could tell ya', partner. Truth is I don't even know. All I know is that I'm a pretty simple fella', run shipments to the east every so often. We keep lotsa' boxes down in the hull but I couldn't tell you what's in 'em. I'm a loyal worker, see? I just get the job done and ask the questions later. That was until I got distracted by this pretty little flower. I don't know 'er, but I know they don't make women like this stateside. First set eyes on her 'bout five months ago. I was carryin' this box of something to one of the fisheries when I spotted her. She's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen in my whole life. Beautiful enough that I dropped whatever was in the box. I broke it. Captain said I was discharged and officially outta' work. So, now I'm going back to the land of the risin' sun. I gotta' find this lass and make her mine. I hope I find 'er. Got no job and all my money was dropped on gettin' here. God help me.

(#49)

It was somethin' outta' Huckleberry Finn or at least somethin' similar. This was snapped just moments after he dropped us off in this freakin' place. Except he didn't just take off immediately. I mean, how could he really? What, with that sorry excuse for an oar in his hand. Nah, he was just fishin'. Some modest fishin' if you ask me, though. Get this guy a proper paddle and a net so he can put something other than a bowl a' rice on the table. Don't even get me started on that dome cover. What is that? Looks to me like a salad bowl breedin' with a sun hat. Foolish, foolish people. Sunset sure is a beaut. In fact, this whole place is a pretty thing. Not so steamy and the airs' got less bugs flappin' around.

(#77)

Climbed up here to get my barrins'. Been awhile since we stopped in this port. Fella' who I showed the picture to said she played some sport but he didn't know where the court was. My translator, and my picture guy I suppose, did all the talkin'. Don't get the wrong idea, I don't speak a lick of whatever you'd call those silly noises. The land here is a sight if you couldn't already tell. Walkin' though the town felt cramped as the circles a hell, lemmie tell ya. Out west we like to place our stuff nice an' even. These folks treat their estates like they were bricks, one goin' on top of the other. Nature out here feels good, airs' clean. I was able to spot what looked like a basketball court in the westward corner of the place. Guess I'll start walkin'. Hope this is the right place.

(#64)

Oh, doggy. My girls' and athlete, too! Me and my buddy here just watched 'em all play for a little while. Thought my heart was gonna' blow up right outta' my chest. camera guy here, I saw his eyes shiftin' all around, but I only watched her. I knew she was the one. This aint' the normal sport watchin' crowd I'm used to back home. I can't quite think of the word I'm lookin' to describe it... encourageized? That aint' a word. Hmm, maybe just everyone takes less of a issue with cheerin' on the other team. Seems to me like they just havin' fun out there. Enough 'bout the team, tough. I'm about to meet my lovely bride - I just know it! I saw her dodge out to one of the buildings and she nere' came out. What's she doin' in there? Maybe her house? Now's my chance I suppose...

(#66)

Now, I'm pretty sure if you were around you'd be able to hear my very own heart snap. I slid aside that door, proud as a lion and found these two just layin' there. She ain't gonna' love me now. Hell, she doesn't even like my flavor a human! That's a doggone female layin' next to my woman! Who's a female! I wasn't sure if I felt mad, confused, or just heartbroken. They were just sleepin' there... so I told my guy to snap a snappy for later. That way I could at least see her face one last time. I wanted to wake 'er up just so she'd notice me but I let her sleep. I was a little freaked out, too. I slid the door closed and wandered around town, not sure where to go next...

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

I wanted to create a southern inspired, more or less "simple" minded man who was driven by lust. I figured that this would allow him to have a reason to be curious about the environment while still maintaining a highly critical color of speech. He's impulsive and not very perceptive. In fact, if I met this slate in real life I'd probably think he was pretty boring. I don't think he likes Japan, just it's women. So, basically he's just interested in what he can gain from the east, ultimately. This was pretty fun, though!

Globetrotters' Analysis

#1: The integration of the Western and Eastern cultures is a hot topic at this point in the course. One must wonder: When two distinctly different cultures intermix, what new ideas will be produced? Culture is one of those all encompassing words, so answering that is impossible. but I can reveal what happens to the architecture! Looking to your left you will see the Grand Hotel located by the bay in Yokohama.

Light Googling revealed that no one is exactly sure who's responsible for this monster's construction, but it's commonly attributed to R.P. Bridgens. Sound American? He is American. The hotel's design reflects this. Overall, the arched windows and pointed roofs suggest a Victorian-esque design. The wrap around deck looks indefinitely Western, common in expansionist architecture. Frankly, the only Japanese aspect is the straw fence. And I don't even think that fence is a part of the hotel. Compare this to the bathhouses of the Japanese. They're built low among the trees, directly by the water. Their stone foundations literally shade them right into their natural environments. This building (design bias aside) sticks out like a sore thumb. It's structured kind of like this: Here is water. Now here is street. Then the hotel goes here. No tree touching. It lacks the organic qualities of the early Japanese architecture.

#2: Oh, wow. Just look at that one guy on the left. So far I haven't been able to look at him without laughing - he has no clue what is going on with his life. But, truthfully, the differences between shots of women and men are what's really interesting here. After looking through all of the Globetrotters' images of women, this picture really stands out. The geisha's look thoughtful and focused. So stoic, in fact, that they almost come off as melancholic.

These guys? They're not focused. Especially that guy on the left. There's no make-up, or weave in their hands - they're just hanging out! If a Japanese woman is ever depicted with an instrument they are holding it delicately. The man of the far right looks like he's trying to play Iron Maiden songs. Why is this distinction so clear? Better yet, is this distinction to be found in western cultures as well? I would say yes, it is. The women are to look beautiful and soft, while the guys... well... they have a lot of fun. It's difficult to call the ball and say that this idea was the intension of the photograph. Perhaps they were trying to make the Japanese culture more attractive to the fun loving men of the states. Either or, the dichotomy is worth discussing nonetheless.

Sources

Are here...

... and here!

Image Analysis #3

#1: This is the Tokaido, a quiet and expansive high way in Japan. We're told that the highway is rarely flanked by anything more then small cottage or town. More interesting, however, is mention of how no conventional trade is done via the Tokaido. One would typically look at this sweeping road and instantly assume that carriages passed over it daily. There are, as we're told, no carriages in Japan. Such information sets a much more humble, settled tone for this picture.

What's really being excluded here is technology. If carriages weren't being utilized then surely local trade was. Something interesting about this shot in particular is the fallen tree over the road. It resembles one of those wooden thresholds commonly associated with spirituality and prayer. This lack of tech and spiritual tone grant this picture a very organic and "Japan in the good-ol' days" kind of feel.

#2: "Honey, I heard the microwave go off, get the Stoffer's. Wheel of Fortune is almost on." *Ahem* Sorry, that was the typical American sitting down to dinner. Let's begin with some trivia: Do you you see an orgy of colors distracting all these beautiful faces? Nope. How about a large dinner table where everyone sits ten feet apart? Nay, sir. In fact, it looks like they pulled out their sock drawer and flipped it upside down - man is that a small dinner... surface?

The takeaway here is community and presentation. Four women, all delicately dressed, enjoying a snack a a close proximity. Their hair is also noteworthy, such high fashion tuning suggests that easting together is an event rather then just a routine step. The instruments, as well, say that people are really enjoying themselves, that's the point. Something that we do everyday without a second thought is rendered something aesthetically profound and ostentatious. But in good way, don't worry, ladies.

Sources are here...

... and here

Analysis of Trade Image

Japan had trade relations with many other regions including England, France and America. The painting shown here is decidedly Japanese with the thickly colored roofs and dark outlining. The coloring of both the sky and the water are also reminiscent of Japanese art style.

From the information gathered from this image, one can assume that relations were going well. The bays are bustling trade ports overseen by multicultural management. However, the scene still has tones of segregation. The different flags are arranged in a unified fashion, but the people are still displayed as a "type." The british are colored red, American's black and the Japanese are wearing traditional attire, sometimes harvesting boots and sun hats. This choice was probably not malicious, but used only to signify the new people's presence and intermingling with the natives. Pretty interesting picture, if you ask me.

Semiotic Images

#1:

If you couldn't tell from the beautifully immaculate walls and plentiful light placement, this photo was taken from a shopping mall in Japan. Oh, and the giant Godzilla (or, Gojira!) statue slathered in lights. The west, for whatever reason, rarely associates Christmas with the Japanese culture but here is evidence that most all cultures are still harassed by the bright lights and consumerist mind set of Christmas.

Godzilla seems like an odd choice, however. Where is the overweight man donning red hat and beard? Godzilla, more so than Santa Claus yields special importance to these people. Looking at this image from the denotative perspective yields little to talk about. The 1954 hit originated from Japanese director Ishirô Honda, pop culture references and a few decades of remakes signifies this beast as a Japanese staple. It's purpose is clear: most citizens who laid eyes on this probably cracked a smile or took a picture.

This humorous staging of such a menacing creature begins to brew the connotative reading of this image. Gojira, as some may know, is a visual conduit to the nuclear bomb tests that devastated the country more than 60 years ago. Weather american revisions of the film have clouded this original concept or not, I'm sure some look up to statue and recall the legitimate danger the creature once symbolized. But, look! Now he has bright lights on him! He's on a podium in a shopping mall. This contradictory staging not only adds to the humor but displays the immense recovery that the culture has seen since. A stretch? Perhaps, but certainly a concept that surpasses surface skimming.

#2:

Well, this certainly is irrational. We all know you don't look like that if you're a smoker. Obviously this is an ad for Lucky Strike cigarettes, popular among WWII allies due to their clandestine labeling. So, yes, we're told that they're good tasting, better than other brands. But let's look a little deeper, shall we?

Observe her calm, cool complexion. Her, "I couldn't possibly care if I wanted to" pose. If this ad was given dogmatic authority then smoking luckies will make us really cool. We'll be cool long, long before the lung cancer sets in. Looking at the image contextually (WWII) the simple naming of "Lucky Strikes" ensures that we'll be cool and have a reduced chance of taking a slug. Man, where's the downside?

Sources:

Here is the source for the first picture...

... and here is the second.