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Tokyo Trio

12/30/2019

For a four or five year period in my thirties, I got right into screenwriting. One technique that works well is called foreshadowing. It’s when, early one, you subtly include an element that will relate to what is to be occurring later.

This picture of me and my brothers made me think of that. It was ‘66 according to the Dymo label. (Loved that early gadget!) So, I was five, Mook - three and Rich - just one a half. Mum and Dad had been to Tokyo on a business trip and brought back these ‘happy coats’ (from Oriental Bazaar in Omotesando most likely) and they looked pretty cute and fun to wear. We wouldn’t have had any idea of their future significance - but there we are; a full four years before presenting ourselves in Tokyo, already wrapped and ready.

We three have always been very close and I think that our adventure in Japan brought us together even closer. We did everything together. A real team. It was great having each other to share experiences and explorations with. We certainly packed in plenty. Every day was an adventure and our playful and curious natures contributed to countless exciting exploits. It was not uncommon for our Mum to cut us loose in Shibuya or Ginza for example, setting a specific meeting point and time for reunion. During those pre-teen years, the things we sought out were pretty simple: toys, game centres or playgrounds. If none of those could found - a stationary shop (stickers!) or a book shop (comics!).

Back at home we watched the same shows together, with the same recurring commercials with their catchy jingles which we would often sing out randomly for amusement. Ads for House Vermont Curry, Oranamin C and Caramel Corn spring to mind immediately but we would have had at least fifty in our shared repertoire. Little advertising catch phrases would be repurposed for our own use, for specific situations, insider jokes. We even made up and used our own secret language - which we used when needed - and it worked! When we returned to Australia to visit every couple of years, our cousins would BEG us to teach them but we never did. It was an exclusive club of three: Mook, Rich and me.

Undeniable and enduring influences

12/29/2019

My time living in Japan has a lasting legacy. The software template pictured may be familiar to some. It’s Final Cut Pro and it’s an editing tool. A highly versatile and intuitive one. And it’s become my favourite Christmas toy - even though I don’t actually own it. (Working with a trial version.) Using collage in my artistic expression has long been a good fit for me. Juxtaposing. Even the word is nice. When I started out making images in art school, I used to manually cut images out of second hand magazines with scissors or stanley knife and paste them down. These days, of course, it is all done digitally. (Often on my phone!) So when I recently discovered I could use these same creative predilections but with moving images... well, it was a game changer. I flourished.

In the featured frame above, there’s a well attired waiter booming a familiar and comforting Japanese welcome; ‘Irashaimase!’ I use Japanese conversation grabs and vocal chops in my songs quite often. As well, Japanese imagery, in particular manga like characters appear in my illustrations and paintings. Katakana, too, is a favourite motif.

My point is that early visual (and audio) influences from having grown up in Tokyo in the seventies still pervade my artistic expressions. Sometimes they feature boldly. I talk about it more in the book but working in Tokyo as a freelance illustrator in the eighties was an exciting time for me. I got regular assignments for some popular and prestigious magazines like POPEYE and BRUTUS as well as JAL, Sony and other clients. I heavily got into studying the styles and delighting in the works of my contemporaries at the time.

In some ways, it is amazing that Japan still so pertinently influences my output thirty and forty years later. But in other ways - and anyone who lived there for an extended period could attest - how could it not? Stemming from a rich and elegant heritage, it’s pop culture expression was, and is, diverse and stunningly inventive - with a flavour all of it’s own. And once you get the taste for it, as is evident in my current work, you keep going back for more.

You can see some of my newly created video clips on my YouTube channel: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC8KZ5Qp_U6fjt7zORuhsFAQ

Gaijin Bosozoku

12/28/2019

It’s funny, I look at this picture (with my brother Rich on his bmx and our Mum in splendid French attire) and I notice how the motorcycle looks comparatively small. But at the time, it felt so big. It was only a 50cc but it felt like a Harley to me. Thing is the difference between not having a bike and having one (of any size or dimension) is huge. Upgrading to a bigger bike (which I did over the years - from 125cc to 250cc to 550cc) is a natural progression. But initiating yourself into the bike riding world - that’s the biggest step. And, at sixteen, I was itching. My best friends already had theirs and because I was the youngest in the class, I had to wait a while until I could get my license.

Then, in order to convince my parents (loving guardians of my well being that they are), I had to write (yes, a letter! No email yet) to a number of insurance agencies and get the statistics on motorcycle related accidents in Tokyo by category. Luckily, the numbers were low enough, so I was good to go. I loved that blue and white Yamaha so much. The thrill and power of the accelerator in your right hand. The smooth and constant vibration between your legs, the rhythmic clicking of the blinkers, the reassuring firmness and reliability of the front and back brakes and finally, the up and down click of the left foot gear lever - one down, four up. It was a modest vehicle but it could go over 110kms - more than enough. And because it was light the take off was very fast. The riding rules in Tokyo allow weaving in and out of vehicles and, satisfyingly, making your way to the front of the line of cars waiting at red lights. So, in effect, what you do is race (way out front of the cars) to the next set of red lights.

During my time in high school, a few kids did have accidents, of course. And, sadly, there were even a few deaths, though not anyone we knew. So it was always a risk and you had to be attuned and attentive, on alert. I was lucky to have never crashed. The best part of having a bike was the freedom it availed. And the thrill of riding. Every outing was exciting. It could be raining, snowing, icy even (the worst!), but I never left home without it. In many ways, Tokyo was one big delightful playground. Always somewhere new to explore. My friends and I sometimes drove in small packs and called ourselves the ‘gaijin bosozoku’ after the notorious, trouble-making (and criminal) Japanese bike gangs of the time. We would sometimes ride up beside them and graciously, because we had no affiliations, obviously young and were always friendly, they would let us ride along beside them sometimes. It was a thrill.

JUMPing Mook - Flash!

12/27/2019

My brother Mook, a talented actor and singer, with the help of our Mum managed to get himself on TV on a number of Japanese talent shows when he was just eleven years old. In these vibrant and upbeat competitions, he would perform his favourite Japanese pop song, mimicking the style and vibe of Go Hiromi, a pop star of the time. He was the only gaijin (foreigner), of course, and created quite a stir with his natural charm, vocal talents and unique performance antics. I’ll never forget when, after having been through a camera run through/rehearsal and doing his song in a standard fashion, when it came time for the live show, at a dramatic moment, he did a fancy hand movement and then proceeded to jump off the stage onto a lower level.

For an instant, the whole place went into shock. The camera men scrambled and the obviously shook floor manager struggled to work out what had happened and regain the status quo after this wild young thing boldly energised the atmosphere with his spur of the moment flourish. It was great. And look at him! He was so cute and handsome, dressed like a star - all attire he chose himself. He later went on, at around fifteen, to professionally be offered a leading role as Lewis in The King & I, amongst an all Japanese cast, at the esteemed Imperial Theatre in Marunouchi, opposite the Emperor’s palace.

Mum was a geisha!

12/27/2019

...just for an evening. And not a professional. But as you can see, she had the rare opportunity to dress up as one. Thoughtfully directed and styled by a small group of the authentic geisha girls who worked at the high end establishment that my parents where invited to for a special business dinner in the early 1970’s, not long after we moved there to live. The girls there were captivated by her natural beauty and although she can’t recall exactly how it came about, she was invited into their private and oppulent dressing room and briefly adopted as one of their own. My Dad, beside her is obviously thrilled and elated. It was one of the first of many exotic and unique opportunities that was afforded our family in this mysterious new land.

SNOw brought wonder & Joy to Azabu

12/26/2019

Growing up in Japan was magical for an assortment of cultural reasons but there is no denying, as well, that when it came, the winter snow - something we had never experienced before in our lives - added an extra layer of other worldliness to the experience. I talk about it more in the book but not only was it soft and clean and fun to play in but because the school buses could not run - school was cancelled. In Australia school was never cancelled. Here, not only was it cancelled but you got a whole new temporary playground - the entire outside! - to play in all day. Believe me, my brothers and I made the most of it. The top picture is the view from our tiny garden (take the bit of snow you see and multiply it by three for the full garden size), looking out to the car parking area. The other pic is our Mum with one of her favourite umbrellas on the street directly outside our place. Somewhere we spent countless afternoons playing after school when we were young. On the right hand side, that fence makes a square all around the block and enclosed within in it is the residence of a very rich banking family. In the book, I relate the story of how we used to retrieve our soccer ball from within.

Dining out with our distinguished neighbours

12/24/2019

In the early days, as a family, we were treated to many wonderful traditional Japanese dinners. This one is with the Arai family - our neighbours and landlords. I speak about them at some length in the book but they were a warm and wonderful couple who always made us feel welcome. We were lucky to land were we did, in our humble home in Nishi Azabu. Mrs Arai used to make us jumbo inarizushi and Mr. Arai worked at Tsukiji fish markets. Looking at the picture I remember how sitting on the floor took some getting used to and I was always happy to sometimes discover a sunken leg space under the table - even heated in winter.

the kid in the picture taking the picture

12/21/2019

That's me when I was nine. Before we moved to Tokyo. Before I had any concept of Japan. The interesting thing is - that camera. It was a gift. We had a visitor to our house and he showed me that camera and let me play with it after I took interest in it. Then, surprising everyone, just before leaving he decided to present the camera to me as a gift. My parents politely declined it but he insisted. I loved that camera and eventually I went on to major in photography at The National Art School. The man's name was Fushimi-san. So, even before arriving on Japanese shores, my life outlook had been broadened and my artistic sensibilities recognised and rewarded by the generosity of the Japanese spirit. Fifty years later, I am still taking photos and using them in my collages and animation. Arigato, Fushimi-san.

What surpising delights reside inside?

11/28/2019

Well, I am not going to spill the (natto) beans completely, but in addition to my thoughts about Japan's enduring influence on my life, I tell the tales of sometimes sticky teen adventures which include:

- Writing for NHK TV and acting with my family in our own show.
- Learning (the easy way) about how to make love to a surfy chick.
- Crashing a truck into the Australian Ambassador's residence (by mistake).
- Discovering the secrets of making money playing pachinko.
- Interacting with the yakuza as part of my focused investigations of the Roppongi night life scene.

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THE LL2J journey