What were you doing on the day of the earthquake and tsunami?

It was my daughter Liana’s graduation day. My husband and I took the day-off work to go to the graduation ceremony. We sat with our friends and other parents and watched all the children graduate. Then we went to home. When the earthquake started we were having a nap. We have a fish tank and the water was splashing out. Our big TV was moving so I grabbed it. It was like riding on a roller coaster.

When all settled down, we turned on the TV and saw the scenes of tsunami at the Sendai airport which is two hours’ drive from our house. I think we were just so stunned. I said to my husband “Maybe we should pick up Nao from her school.” which is nearer to the sea than our house. He went off to the school and brought her home. Then he left for the town hall where he used to work to help out people.

It was hard to believe that the tsunami was so close to us. It came about 600 meters from our home. At that time, lots of parents who live in the coastal area went to the school to pick up their children. Luckily all the children at my youngest daughter’s school were safe, however, many parents and grandparents were killed because their homes were washed away. One of my daughters lost her two very good friends, and our friend who sat next to us throughout the graduation ceremony was killed that afternoon.

Soon after the earthquake and tsunami came the nuclear crisis. When the evacuation zone was being expanded time and again, what were you feeling?

In the morning, we heard Okuma, Futaba and Namie Towns were being evacuated. Because I worked for Okuma right next to the Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear Power Plant for a long time, I had made many visits –inside the plant and the reactor — as a translator, therefore, I know a little bit about the security system. When I heard they were evacuating people, I thought something very bad was happening. I knew what they tell the public and what is actually happening was going to be completely different. I knew this from my past experience that Tokyo Electric Power Company (TEPCO) covers up their problems.

On the whole of Saturday, I was getting sleeping bags, ski wear, canned food — everything we could get and put into our car. At seven o’clock in the night, when the government said Odaka — our area — would be evacuated, we were already in a primary school next to the evacuated area. We spent two nights at a shelter.

You have visited the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear power plant many times. When the earthquake and tsunami struck, did you imagine this crisis would happen? Was it something you had thought about before?

Strangely enough, no. Maybe it’s because I have heard TEPCO workers’ talks so many times. When I worked as a translator for the groups from Okuma Town’s sister city in Australia, the Australians asked “What would happen if there’s an earthquake?” and TEPCO staff repeated “That’s no problem at all.” I had been translating it many times. It’s strange but I didn’t think about it at all.

How did you try to escape from the radiation?

On the night of 14th, the town hall where my husband worked was trying to hand out iodine tablets to people, but many had already fled before the system was coordinated. One night, my husband finally came back to our shelter and stayed with us. He was saying “Just get out.” That was my reaction too. On the 15th, we decided to go to Aizu Wakamatsu City (Aizu) about 100 km west of the power plant. There was no petrol at that time, so my husband went back to our farm inside the evacuated area to pick up the petrol for our farming machinery. We put it into our car in the middle of the night, because people would say “where did you get it?” if you have gas.

Before we left for Aizu, he took three iodine tablets from his pocket and said “If it gets really bad, give these to our girls.” Then we left my husband and set off. In my mind, I was like “This could be the very last time I see him.” All the way through the mountains, we saw many ambulances, military trucks and fire engines — all with their red lights flashing and sirens blaring — going the other way from where we were living. It was just like a dream.

In Aizu, there were friends who let us stay at their house. During our first night at the new house, my eldest daughter started throwing up. I told my mother-in-law to call an ambulance, because we didn’t know where a hospital was or anything at all. When the ambulance came, they had special suits on which protect them from radiation, because they thought we were contaminated. They screened all of us and found my shoes were contaminated. So I was asked to wear plastic bags over my shoes, and waited for my daughter at the hospital. She was dehydrated because she couldn’t get enough water to drink at the evacuation center.

When we were waiting, another emergency group came to the hospital. It was really sad because this family came to Aizu from Minamisoma City — like us — their grandfather died in their car during the move. The family members didn’t notice it because they thought he was sleeping. Because he died in such a situation, police had to come and interview them. The husband and wife were fighting about what would have been better — to evacuate or to stay, because they thought their move caused his death. It was really like a bad dream.

But our family was still lucky. People who spent a long time in the evacuation centers didn’t have heat for weeks! I cannot believe it took so long. I had been calling my friends and telling them “I would come and pick you up.” but everybody had their own reasons to stay. Actually help was available, but drivers wouldn’t go over the mountains to bring stuff to people because of the radiation. It was a mess, a massive mess.

When did you decide to return to this area?

A month later, we made the decision to go back to Soma City about 40km north from the power plant, because we remember our relatives have a house there. My eldest daughter’s school is there, and my husband’s job is there too. When my husband told us to come back, it was very hard for us to return to the area after living in Aizu for a month. But we didn’t want our family separated. I knew I had lost my job, because Okuma Town — where my job was had become a ghost town. The town was evacuated to Aizu and they asked me to continue to work there, but I already made the decision to go back at that time. After that I started to teach in schools in Minamisoma City near the evacuated area.

As a person who made the decision to stay, what do you hope for the future of Fukushima and people living under this gloom?

It’s difficult. Nothing will ever be ever be the same. Whatever we make in this area from now on, it will never be the same as before. The same people aren’t here. It’s hard to think of something positive. You can only hope for the radiation situation improves. But who can say how, when or in what way it can improve and people can live safely? You can be safe but still anxious. I have never said to anybody “Why didn’t you come back” or anything. It’s up to every person to figure out for themselves where they want to be. What I think is safe for me, somebody else might not think it’s safe for them.

What surprises me is that everybody keeps their sense of humor. It’s the side of Japanese which I haven’t really seen before — although it does sound strange. They are so good at laughing about the situation. You know, there is a new car which is fueled by stuff like fallen leaves, and those were saying “It’s great that a car doesn’t use petrol” and another said “We should make a car that uses Fukushima rice, because you can’t use it for anything else. [laughs]” This was just happening during our school lunch. Everyday we laugh and joke about it, because you have to otherwise it would just be a nightmare every day. As we are all in it together and have made the same decision to stay, it’s better to make the best of it. You can’t tell what’s going to happen in the future, so we just try cheering up each other. We go out for drinking a lot, which helps. We feel a very-very strong bond with everybody just because we are all in it together.

Nemoto’s home is located in the 20km exclusion zone around the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear power plant.

After The Great 1923 Earthquake, Tokyo’s few remaining bonsai nurseries moved north to Omiya. Up here the air was cooler, the water purer and the soil perfect for growing miniature trees. Today, only ten nurseries remain in the world’s most important area for Bonsai cultivation.

In the center of Tokyo, behind a moat, a stone wall and guards, there is a 500 year old tree named Sandai-Shogun-No Matsu. Owned by the Imperial Family (and kept in the Imperial Palace) this tree is the oldest in the world to be cultivated and cared for by hand. Tended to by dozens of bonsai masters, including one Shogun, it is the greatest example of bonsai as an artwork created by many collaborators across the centuries. Each new master would have spent years pruning leaves or whole branches with bonsai shears, new growths would have been rubbed off, or pinched back to force them to rebranch and other branches would have been bound with wire using a Yattoko (pliers) or wires. All this was done to shrink a five needled pine tree into a miniature version of its natural self.

Masahiko Kimura, one of the world’s most famous living bonsai masters, chose a different method. He is not exactly a bonsai grower, craftsmen or caretaker, but see’s himself more as an artist. His trees are not formed by many hands across the centuries but envisioned and sculptured by himself using power tools in days or hours. “If I spent 100 years tending a tree I would be dead and have never made a living. Artists only became revered once they’re dead, I don’t want that path.” Kimura was born into a family of inventors in Omiya’s Bonsai Village in 1940, but originally his family had little to do with the Bonsai industry. Sadly, in 1951 his father committed suicide, overwhelmed by the responsibility of inventing weapons during the war, and this would deeply affect Kimura. “My mother worked hard to bring us up, but we didn’t have money and I wasn’t able to attend school. She thought bonsai would be a good career for me because I was good with my hands.”

Now, over fifty years later, it is clear that Kimura is good with his hands, but his real talent might be a severe attention to detail. The gardens around his property are immaculate, calling them perfect would not be an overstatement. His bonsai are equally well kept, created with a unique sense of form and highly inventive techniques (most of the tools he uses to work on his bonsai have been built by himself). Overseas however, Kimura’s real fame has come from this last aspect, his inventiveness; what used to take decades for a traditional bonsai master to do takes Kimura a day, or in some cases hours. He shows us a photo album of a tree gathered from the mountains, which he transformed into a spectacularly asymmetrical bonsai in 7 hours and 30 minutes using a range of power-tools and unique wiring techniques.

“In order to make something truly new, a maker must take a serious risk. Not everyone feels comfortable to take that chance.” At one time this attitude gave Kimura the reputation of a heretic in the bonsai community but now he is regarded as something of a genius, and is often referred to in names more fitting of Las Vegas performers than traditional artists. “People call me the ‘magical technician,’ but I don’t really care about being labeled a magician. Every day is a challenge, it’s hard work,” he says as we wander through the nursery. The tree’s we walk past all defy their treeness, and it’s hard to see the Juniper, or the Pine, instead we see the charismatic marks of Kimura ― a trunk and branches whipped into a thick splashes of white syrup, frozen beneath a flotilla of green clouds.

This entry originally appeared in Papersky No. 37 (Norway, 2011).

Masahiko Kimura’s is located at Inakyo Komuro 7580 in Kita-Adachi in Saitama.

After The Great 1923 Earthquake, Tokyo’s few remaining bonsai nurseries moved north to Omiya. Up here the air was cooler, the water purer and the soil perfect for growing miniature trees. Today, only ten nurseries remain in the world’s most important area for Bonsai cultivation.

“I remember feeling a lot of pressure around middle school when I realized that this would be my career and my life.” Kaori Yamada is the only child of one of Japan’s most revered bonsai growers, which means she grew up with a tremendous weight on her shoulders, predestined to become the fifth owner and bonsai master at her family’s 150 year old nursery, Seiko-en. Sitting beside her bonsai one autumn morning she talks about the pressure of continuing such a long tradition, “I really wondered if I was capable.”

Now in her early thirties, Yamada has proved herself and is Japan’s best known female bonsai grower. She is known for challenging the dusty ideas of traditional bonsai and opening the culture up to an entirely new generation of Japanese. Although many foreigners see bonsai as something quintessentially Japanese, many Japanese see bonsai as something quintessentially geriatric, “something your grandfather did, and something which required a lifetime of work to see results,” she says. Yamada showed an alternative when she mastered a style of bonsai which her father proposed during the 1980′s called Saika.

At that time the economy in Japan was booming, and expensive bonsai got the limelight. Now, after two decades of economic problems in Japan, Saika’s value is being understood as a simpler (and cheaper) interpretation of bonsai. “My idea with Saika is to take bonsai and make it more practical for young women. Traditional bonsai can seem like a bit of an anachronism in a modern setting but I think traditions should adapt with the times, changing and reforming around modern life, it’s just not practical to force it to remain as it always was.” Traditional bonsai aesthetics demand one tree to be planted in one pot — no mixing of species, encouraging austerity, control and a level of patience which modern humans have only a vague notion of. On the other hand, Saika is about simplicity and convenience, bringing many species of trees into one pot, forming a miniature garden. “But,” says Kaori, “it still carries the original idea of bonsai — bringing nature inside, a replica of real natural Japanese landscapes.”

Saika has developed a strong following, especially among women. Its critics claim it has more in common with Ikebana (flower arranging) than bonsai and that it does not represent “true” bonsai. However these criticisms are too short sighted. If you look back to the time before bonsai was governed by strict rules and ideas, there was a form of landscape gardening called ‘bonkei’ (miniature landscapes) where people would assemble elaborate rocks, flowers, grasses and trees on a wooden shelf. The nursery at Seiko-en might be the closest incarnation of that ancient precursor to bonsai, with Kaori Yamada pulling it back from its thousand year sleep.

This entry originally appeared in Papersky No. 37 (Norway, 2011).

The Seiko-en Bonsai Nursery is located at 268 Bonsaicho, Saitama City, Saitama Prefecture.

After The Great 1923 Earthquake, Tokyo’s few remaining bonsai nurseries moved north to Omiya. Up here the air was cooler, the water purer and the soil perfect for growing miniature trees. Today, only ten nurseries remain in the world’s most important area for Bonsai cultivation.

Controlling the beauty of the natural world is difficult, time consuming and often impossible. Yet, we try. That hasn’t stopped us from domesticating beautiful beasts or clipping the wings of birds so that we can enjoy their plummage (without them having to fly away), or brining parts of the natural landscape into our homes – flowers, trees and rocks.

In Japan and China, this control of the natural landscape has been raised to a kind of ritualistic art. In China it was called Penjing and sometime between 1185 and 1333 it travelled to Japan and was named Bonsai. It is the art of growing miniature trees which evoke the natural landscape. “Growing a bonsai is like taming a Lion to become a pet, it is that difficult,” Tabata says, looking out of a window at dozens of bonsai; some decades old, some centuries old, all making the same asymmetrical shadows on the grounds of Omiya’s Bonsai Museum.

The 37 year old is a ‘Bonsai Gishi’ (bonsai technician) at the museum, his job is caring for the health and well being of the plants here. Walking through the museum’s collection Tabata speaks about each plant as though it were a person, commenting on their names or history (famous or important bonsai are given unique names). It feels more like a guided tour around a retirement home for plant people. “The most important thing for a Bonsai Technician is knowing the plants you are working with. Even if there are ten examples of the same species of pine tree they will all have distinct personalities. Some trees need a lot of attention, others need a little, and there are other more subtle characteristics too.” However, Tabata stresses that tree’s can’t be wholly treated like people, “humans must balance out their strengths and weaknesses, with a bonsai you just cut out the weak parts.”

Tabata first came to Omiya as an apprentice after finishing high school in his hometown, Kagoshima, in Southern Japan. His father was one of a few local bonsai enthusiasts and he pushed his son to move to the bonsai capital of Japan and work for a nursery. Here Tabata discovered and learnt the origins of the Bonsai Village, and the reason that Bonsai nurseries were declining. The first blow was Tokyo’s devastating 1923 earthquake and fire, after which all of the nurseries moved further North to Omiya, “because it had good water, soil and was a little cooler than most areas,” says Tabata. The second blow was the firebombing during World Ward II, and today there are only around ten nurseries left here. Unexpectedly, the patronage of occupying American forces (at the behest of General MacArthur) likely helped keep even that small number in business. Such a decline in an ancient tradition is saddening – perhaps even humbling – and reinforces the idea that, “no matter how much you have under control, something always goes wrong.” Tabata forms these words slowly. Like other Bonsai workers, Tabata is never slothful, but measured and he measures these final words carefully, “I think that is the one aspect of Bonsai that really interests me.”

This entry originally appeared in Papersky No. 37 (Norway, 2011).

The Omiya Bonsai Museum:
The Omiya Bonsai Art Museum is Japan’s newest museum dedicated to Japanese bonsai. Located 50 minutes North of Tokyo in the Bonsai Village district of Omiya city, it is a short walk to some of the greatest bonsai nursery’s in the world. The museums exhibits significant bonsai from all over Japan, carefully selected by a team of three curators, and cared for by a team of three bonsai technicians. An indoor section presents these exhibits beside historical information and examples of how Bonsai would have been used in different types of Zahiki Kazari (reception rooms) during the Meiji and Edo era. An outside section shows plants from museums private collection. The museum is intended to sustain local bonsai culture around Bonsai Village (Bonsaicho).

How did the BNE Water Foundation start, where did the idea come from?

It wasn’t one event it was more a combination of things and a feeling that had been growing inside of me. The root of most major problems society faces today, poverty, war, destruction of nature etc. is human greed. A growing disgust of greed and a general disappointment in what we have become as a society is what initially made me want to step up and do something. I knew that I needed to use the fame and recognition that I have built up around the world and my art to make some sort of difference but it took a lot of time and research to decide on exactly what I could do that would make the biggest difference. After a lot of reading and research I learned that providing clean water solutions to people in developing countries was what would have the biggest impact on poverty.

Were there any other activists or artivists‘ work which made you think you would like to do something similar and start a foundation?

I know that there are many people doing great humanitarian work all over the world but no one in particular inspired me to do this. As far as art activists go, I see a lot of people critiquing social issues in their work which is cool but what I do not see is any of them offering solutions. I wanted to offer a solution and real change not just get rich selling people the idea of change. Many people have approached me to use the BNE name to help sell their products or add credibility to their brands. I have looked these people in their eyes and closely watched their actions and saw nothing but greed. The fact that they wanted to use my life’s work and the culture I come from to sell their bullshit products, caring about nothing other than profits infuriated me. Experiencing that, and seeing extreme poverty, suffering and social injustice up close and personal is what really made me want to do this. It wasn’t really something I wanted to do but more so something that I needed to do. 

Does this Water Foundation represent a potential of graffiti which you didn’t personally realize in your earlier days? What is different about how you thought about graffiti when you were younger and now, when you say graffiti has a potential to raise awareness?

Of course when I was younger I looked at graffiti completely different. Some people start doing graffiti to make a name for themselves or get some fame. I never really cared about fame or recognition, It was simply something I had to do, I was naturally attracted to it at a young age and it was something I really enjoyed. I never saw it as a political statement, way of communicating or even as an act of rebellion when I was young, it was just something I needed to do, it made me feel alive. As an adult I now have a deep understanding of the psychology behind graffiti. I still love graffiti just as much but I look at it very differently now. At some point I began to realize that I had a voice and what I was doing was basically advertising. Up until that point I had only been advertising my own ego and eventually realized that graffiti could be used for much more than simply saying “I WAS HERE”. Don’t get me wrong though I don’t see anything wrong with simply saying “I WAS HERE”, a tag is the essence of graffiti and something I will always love but after spending thousands of hours out on the streets, traveling and seeing everything going on in the world, its natural for me to want to use graffiti for a deeper more meaningful purpose.

How did you go about starting? What was it that you “needed to know” and how did you learn it?

No I never googled “how to start a foundation” but of course I researched many existing foundations and NGOs to see exactly how they operated and who was at the forefront and what strategies they were using. Our foundation is registered in Indonesia so of course we had to research the local laws and procedures that needed to be followed to legally become an official foundation.

What were some setbacks or hurdles along the way to just establishing the Foundation? Tell us about this “one year of research” or “a lot of thought.”
  
Things move very slow in Indonesia and I am use to a very fast paced big city lifestyle where things need to get done quickly and efficiently. Paperwork, bureaucracy and everything in general moves pretty slow in Indonesia so just adjusting to that speed has felt like a giant hurdle. The year of research was spent researching poverty in depth and deciding what we could do that would have the biggest impact. Water is what all life needs to survive. It is the root of all life, without it we die. Water related diseases kill more than 6000 people everyday so there is really no point in doing micro finance, education programs or other type of work if a child will be dead next year from diarrhea. Once we decided that water would be our priority I had to become an expert on water and implementing sustainable clean water solutions. That took a lot of time and research.

A key to the foundation is artist donations- tell us about artist participation worldwide- from what cities have you received art works and who are some of the artists you are hyped donated?
    
I have always thought it would be amazing if all artists around the world united for one cause. It’s very optimistic but this part of the movement is a true platform for that to actually happen. We have just started reaching out to artists very recently but the response has been great. We have received artwork donations from big name artists as well as unknown artists and that’s exactly what I wanted. Some artists may have more influence or fame than others but I am equally excited every time someone submits work regardless of who they are. This is very progressive and has never been done before, it may take a while for the art community to comprehend the magnitude and potential in a project like this. The online gallery will be open to all serious artists who would like to participate and eventually I am hoping to get thousand of artists from all over the world involved in this project. As artists we are suppose to be at the forefront of creativity and progressive thinking. I feel that all artists have a responsibility to use their talent and influence to better society.

Tell us about BNE products and Activism Through Commerce. How does this work?

As another way of raising money to fund our work we will be designing and selling a line of BNE branded products. These products will be very similar to other products on the market which people buy everyday, shoes, bags, clothing etc. By simply choosing a BNE product over another brand a consumer will become a part of a our movement. 100% of profits will fund clean water and and sanitation projects. These products being out on the streets and in stores will also help spread the word about our cause and what we are doing even further. I really want to challenge people to start thinking about what they are buying, who they are giving there money to and where their money is going. Personally I am disgusted that people are foolish enough support brands whose owners do nothing with the profits except buy diamond teeth and Rolls Royce’s. I would never support a brand like that and neither should you. BNE products will offer consumers an opportunity to be a part of something real which has the potential to change the world by simply buying something they would normally buy anyway. 
          
What do you think of young Japanese, in their 20s and 30s and their willingness to donate to charity or to volunteer for charity?

I don’t believe I am in touch with the young Japanese mindset enough to accurately comment on this but I think that we are all humans and the majority of us would want to help if we were face to face with extreme poverty and suffering. Normally in day-to-day life Japanese people are not confronted by the horrible injustices occurring around the world. However the recent earthquake and nuclear disaster have put Japanese people face to face with a very sad,very real, very serious tragedy. In light of all this I think it is a perfect time for young people in Japan to start getting more involved in charity, helping the less fortunate and to start thinking on a deeper level about what we as humans can do to make this a better place for all of us. 

So what are some of actual clean water solutions the Water Foundation puts into action? Literature? Water filters?

Every situation is different and varies from village to village but for our next project in an area of Indonesia notorious for drought and famine we will be manufacturing and distributing bios and water filters which can be made completely from locally available materials and can provide a family with clean water for many years with very little maintenance an no ongoing costs. We will also be installing and improving existing rain catchments as the residents are already harvesting rain water, digging wells and conducting sanitation training courses with the local women. I actually thought the same thing that being able to follow your donation from start to finish would be great. We plan to be at the forefront of transparency and through photos, video and GPS tracking, our supporters will be able to see exactly where their money went, what it accomplished and who’s life it affected. 

Tell us about some of the amazing people you have met along the way, like in Jakarta, who is Mr. Pak Nur?

Pak Nur is a homeless man in his 50′s who has been living under a bridge in Jakarta for the last 6 years. He paints in the streets, mostly political stuff and what ever else is on his mind, always speaking from the heart. None of you have heard of him and probably never will again but as I said on our blog he is the epitome of a REAL street artist. His intentions are completely pure. He has no intentions of making money from his art or being recognized by galleries or museums. In fact he does not even know what the internet is. I tried to explain it to him but he didn’t really get it. Most of society and the police see him as a nuisances or mentally ill but for me he is one of my favorite artists that I have encountered. I’ve met many great people in my travels. Two of them who are special to me passed away recently. My friend POKE from Queens New york died last year and my friend Fumihiro Hayashi from Tokyo passed away earlier this year. These were two great people I had the pleasure of spending time with. I miss both of you. Thank you for all the good times.

About the “cribs” blog post, was this visit connected to the Water Foundation? Was it research?

No that was not research. A friend and I have been helping to fund a school/community center in central Jakarta and many of our elementary school aged children are very poor and live with their whole family in one tiny room in very sad conditions. I visited some of the kids at home and took those photos. Very recently the government has started to pay for education in Jakarta so we have fewer students now.

We ask everyone, simply, what are your favorite places in the world and which places would you like to travel to which you haven’t been?

Japan was one of the very first places I traveled to when I was younger and that trip was a great experience. We didn’t know anyone in japan and couldn’t speak the language at all, Me and a friend from New York just bought tickets and went. I think it’s very important to mention that unlike most foreign artists going to Japan it was never our intention to make money or sell anything to the Japanese. We only went for the experience and to share true graffiti culture with Japan. There was no live painting, sponsor, art show or any of that. No one paid for our tickets or gave us a hotel. It was all very real and I know for a fact that every older Japanese graffiti writer remembers that part of history. Some parts of Japanese society annoy and frustrate me but at the same time there are many things I admire and respect. I have to say that Japan has been one of my favorite places. I’ve shared a lot of good times with friends there. I also really enjoy Spain, France and Europe in general. The Swiss alps are very beautiful. On the other side of the world in some of the poorest places I have been it was a pleasure to see the strength and kindness of people living such a hard life. In my experience the poorest people I’ve met have been some of the kindest and most generous. I’ve already covered a big piece the globe but plan to visit every country before I die. I really enjoy wandering through the neighborhoods of a city I have been to for the first time. In the beginning it was about wanting to hit every city with my tag but now that I have been around the world and know about all of the horrible things going on, I have found myself wanting to do something about it. Traveling for me now has become more about gaining knowledge and spending time with people than about doing graffiti. I always have to leave my mark though, its in my blood. 

With all the travel and nomadism, is there a place you feel quite at ‘home’?

I have lived this nomad lifestyle for so long that I really do not know what a home feels like. Wherever I am though, if I am with good people I feel at home.

Was it important for you to use the BNE name? Was there any kind of process of trying to decide on a different name?

Before the idea for the water foundation even came about it started with wanting to use the BNE name and my art for something deeper, something to make a positive change in society. Brand recognition is something that companies pay millions of dollars to achieve and maintain. BNE being known around the world gives us a head start in that department. Using a different name would have been starting from scratch and would have taken a lot longer to get the word out. Using the BNE name and graffiti in general will get young people thinking about social issues who might normally not think about such things. To a 15 year old kid out in the streets doing graffiti, a Unicef commercial will have no effect on them at all but when the issue is presented in a visual language they understand, respect and look up to, it has the ability to inspire someone who normally would not care at all. 

The BNE name is so related to graffiti and let’s say the mainstream “just doesn’t get it,” but something like a charity or good will work towards sanitation seems like something a general audience can understand so how do you balance or separate or express this clearly positive cause of the BNE Water Foundation with the generally bad reputation graffiti gets in the public eye? Is BNE now a double edged sword?

That’s a good question. The mainstream does not “get” a lot of things that are not polished and presented to them in a certain way. I don’t think it’s necessary to separate the two things, one bad and one good. There are good and bad charities as well as good and bad graffiti. Of course the charity aspect of BNE is a good thing that everyone can relate to but the BNE name in the streets is the advertising for this cause and there is nothing bad about that. These days smart forward thinking charities know that they have to become brands, be innovative and use all the marketing and advertising techniques that world famous brands use. BNE is a brand unlike any other because it is 100% for the people, by the people and benefits all of society. I do not feel that a brand who’s sole purpose is to better society should have to pay for advertising. I now look at a BNE tag or sticker as the voice of the poor and that voice is saying “Hey! We exist and we deserve health and happiness just like you do!” Most people do not understand graffiti and its human nature to fear and dislike things you do not understand. However, as time passes any intelligent person who takes the time and looks closely at what the BNE movement is all about will have no choice but to say, ” You know what, this all make perfect sense. This is truly something great.”

I like this quote from your twitter page on July 22: “A million times more advertising $ and creativity are used to sell unhealthy beverages to our children than are 2 promote social issues. #BNE” Can you elaborate past 120 characters on this point?

When you walk around in the streets, ride the train, drive on the highway or watch TV you are confronted thousands of times a day with ads for products and services. Billions of dollars are spent on getting people to buy these things but we never see clever sleek ads making it cool to care for our fellow human or a million dollar ad campaign telling us that war is not cool. If the same amount of money and creativity went into advertising NGOs or things that would advance society, the world would be a much better place. The power of advertising is enormous. Louis Vuitton is worshipped religiously in Japan, imagine if LV donated the majority of their profits to charity and through advertising they made it glamourous to care about the less fortunate , that would be incredible. It would give that logo so much more meaning. That would be something that could inspire real change, something actually worth worshipping religiously. 

Did you ever think you could transform your tag into a movement embraced by all? What does it mean for BNE now?

A movement that can be embraced by all is what we are in the process of trying to create. What does this mean for BNE? This means that the BNE name no longer belongs to me or is about me. It now belongs to the people. 

Can you reflect, however romantic or not, on “how far graffiti has come?” From being branded as vandalism to not respected as an art form to galleries to films, marketing campaigns, big retrospectives at the LA Museum to even a ‘role’ in political campaigns and now humanitarian efforts. Could you connect this to any thoughts on the future of graffiti or [street] art or protest culture?

Graffiti has come a long way is one way to look at it but others with a deeper understanding of the culture may look at it another way. With the exception of humanitarian efforts everything you mentioned in your question involves an outsider making money off of a culture that they were never a part of. Some may look at all of these things as contributing to the dilution of a culture originally meant to rebel against the system, not dance on a stage for the system. The future of graffiti? I hope that graffiti will always exist. Graffiti is a sign of life in a city. It’s a pulse that says “Hey, we are alive and we are not mindless obedient drones.” The culture is getting watered down but I’m sure that  there will always be people out there in the streets keeping graffiti alive.
 
So let’s wrap it up- how can people help?

This is a movement that every one can participate in. First, check out our website at bnewater.org and you can read more about what we are doing. You can support the movement in many ways. If you can afford to, you can donate money or buy BNE products but its not always about money. Use your power or influence to spread the word about what we are doing. Tweet or blog about us, do whatever you can to spread the word. Sometimes you do not realize the power you have. You are always looking at celebrities and brands as great and powerful, you should remember that none of them can exist without you, the consumer. You are the ones with the real power, you just do not realize it. It will not be a celebrity, corporation, or famous artist that will make this project a success. It will be you the people who will determine whether we succeed or not. I have created the platform but its up to all of you to make this dream a reality. One person cannot change the world but when enough people change themselves, then the world has already changed.

This interview originally appeared in Papersky No. 37 Norway (November, 2011).

BNE Water Foundation stickers can be seen throughout the Shibuya area of Tokyo.

“When I was on my university cycling team, I thought being a world champion like Nakano was too hard because frankly, the bar was set too high. I also didn’t think that Keirin was as ‘world class’ like the UCI (International Cyclist Union) which had races on an international scale. I thought those races were more serious, in the same way the World Cup just seems so huge in Soccer. Along with the gambling infused into the sport, people just assumed the international races were more on par with the Olympics and after the Second World War, Keirin was seen more as a form of entertainment. But things really changed when Nakano started winning.

Nakano’s name was on everyone’s lips and nicknames like ‘Mr. Keirin’ were all over the media. Amid the economic boom of the 1980s, the status of the sport continued to grow wider in recognition. Everyone started to think that Keirin riders were so cool and riders from all over the world were astounded by Nakano’s success and domination. After Nakano’s fifth straight year of winning sprint contests, the UCI thought Keirin itself was a world class system and saw fit to send some of its board members to Japan to learn more about the sport and its governing body. In turn, nine pro Keirin riders, along with a pacemaker, were invited to perform a demo race at a world championship. These events introduced Keirin to the world.

Before I turned pro, I had just gotten a right-out-of-school job as an engineer but it didn’t last too long and it was about six months before I quit. My old teammate from my university cycling team phoned me one day to tell me he had entered the professional like he had always wanted to. He asked me what I was doing with my life and naturally, it got me thinking. The next time he called me, he was in the hospital with a broken collar bone from a race accident so I went to see him and again, he asked me what my dream in life was. At that point, I felt I wanted to open a bike shop or a frame factory rather than being a pro rider but he convinced me to come out to training camp and that he would take me under his wing. It was 1981 when I quit my desk job and began to train everyday. At the Keirin school, I learned the ins and outs of the sport and in 1983 I made my official debut as a professional.

One thing you don’t forget is passing the first test- dashing one kilometer within a minute and 12 seconds. It’s a dead or alive thing, with the best seventy-five riders of each class selected to move on. Every six months, new riders enroll while at the same time seventy-five graduate and meanwhile, there are sixty pro riders retiring each year. Since that’s twice a year, you have 120 riders retiring and 150 entering- its all regulated by the Keirin Association but you can see that the number of active riders is increasing every year. I think about right now there are about 3,900 registered Keirin riders, with at least one in each prefecture and here in Tokyo I’d say there are about 160.

Another thing every rider must take from the Keirin school, or at least be aware of, are the styles and techniques that riders rely on to help them cross the finish line first. It’s often said Nakano had none of the standard methods but he did have his own style, and everyone referred to it as the ‘go, dash’ since he would just blaze straight through the track. While it emerged as a new style in spring racing, there is a handful of styles or techniques which riders employ. There’s Makkuri which I would say is the hardest, is when a rider intentionally lags behind on the first lap then powers through all the way to the front on the last stretch. There’s Senko which is dashing as soon as the pacemaker goes off the track- which is probably the most common. One every rider knows is Sashi which in Japanese means ‘to stab’ is when a rider pokes out his handlebars and body, giving it his all right before the finish line since every half-second makes all the difference. Another style is Oikomi which is just passing someone near the end of the race and then there’s Marking which is when a rider stays in 2nd place and follows the leader until they can pass when the wind-drag effect is just right. All in all, these techniques make for some of the most interesting and dramatic races.”

While Koichi Nakano was a beacon for young Keirin riders and fans alike, Tomita had his own personal hero. One of his closest and most enduring relationships throughout his years in the sport was with one of the most revered and respected frame builders in Keirin, and the world, Akio Tanabe. “When I was younger, I had gone to my first Keirin race and that was were I met Tanabe-san who was a well-known amateur at the time. I asked him a lot of questions when I met him after his race and was in awe- he was god-like, with huge, bulging muscular legs and a super aerodynamic bike. I remember pressing up against the fence and watching the Tokyo Track Championships, which on the one-kilometer dash, Tanabe easily took other riders. In my later high school years, I had attended a national athletic collegiate meet and Tanabe started training me and teaching me the more profound aspects of riding, technical bicycle maintenance as well as racing techniques. These were invaluable lessons for me and allowed me to enter my first race with confidence. I often spent time at Tanabe’s workshop and when he asked me what my dream in life was, I simply realized and said, ‘I want to be you’ and from that point on, Tanabe-san taught me everything about the sport and even suggested that I go to the Keirin school. At the start, I was weak, just a high school boy but within two years, I made it to the Japan Nationals and placed third, and even earned a little bit of a reputation along the way.

Most riders aren’t paid by sponsors nor supported by the smaller frame factories and don’t necessarily have a very close relationship with their builder but because of my close relationship with Tanabe-san, he knows everything about me, my style, my height, my size and so I don’t even really have to too involved with all the technical details like other riders may have to. I think I’m pretty lucky in that respect, I just decide on the color [laughs]. Sure, a lot of frames are pretty much the same but it’s the spirit and passion the builder pours into the frame that counts.”

Since retiring in July of 2010 and stowing away his racing gear, Tomita is currently involved in a carbon fibre frame building project as a test rider and consultant. “Since the price of carbon sheeting has leveled out a bit, it’s more possible to experiment and that what we have been doing with other components like forks and handle bars.” Commuting from his home to this project, Tomita gets around town on one of his former racing bikes, which these days, seem a bit more common on the streets than before. “Sure, these days everyone is riding these Keirin racing bikes on the street and without brakes. Naturally, this actually worried the Keirin Association. I thought it was dangerous after having been a pro and only knowing Keirin inside the track, not on the streets but the more I started to ride my bike on the streets I came to appreciate the feeling in this riding environment. I was able to see the good side of the culture but still, I always tell all those riders I see out there to put a brake on!”

Tomita has just opened his first frame-building studio and is open for business at: 1-9-2, Nangai, Higashi Yamato.

You have lived in Japan most of your life and in the last decade you’ve traveled a lot. How has this changed how you think about architecture?

Sure, it’s definitely changed me. Before going abroad, I didn’t really formulate my own concept of Japan since everyone around me was Japanese. When I saw cities in Europe, I was amazed by their beauty, a feeling I had not felt the same way in Tokyo before. I appreciated Europeans’ way of creating atmosphere for comfortable living like in homes, hotels, parks, rivers or on the streets. Like people living in Italian cities, even if they don’t have a lot of money, a lot of possibilities allow them to enjoy their life- going to the market, getting something cheap to eat, then going to the park. I saw the city provide its inhabitants with many beautiful moments. When non-Japanese start appearing around you, you start to think more about yourself and how people portray you and what you do. So, I also started to become more aware of comparisons like the big differences between American and European architecture. In Europe, architecture is very brut- I mean, imposing and rough, almost aggressive in its reconstruction and renovation- always adding on top. I think the work of Le Corbusier is very brut. And this was something I had never seen before in Japan. It’s not precise like Japanese architecture, which at the same time I don’t feel any particular energy from, but European architecture showed me that people live in a different way reflected in their architecture while I realized Japanese architecture is like something more mechanical.

What are some cities or places in the world that have actually influenced the way you think about or approach your practice of architecture? How are these examples different from the way that another architect, or person, may have influenced you?

From this point of view, I would say Rome. When I visited in 1988, I was 22 and amazed and almost scared at the same time. Rome is a city with a long history of murder [laughs]- over centuries the city has been destroyed but all along this time rebuilt on top of itself. The archaeology is found deep below the ground, and even with every street having a different history, you have an architecture that is directly connected over 500 years. I found this fascinating. This plays into how a city can influence versus how a person because people who are still alive speak and while the city is alive too- it doesn’t speak. Cities have a long history and change a lot but their identity essentially stays the same; like Istanbul, for example. The name has changed several times but not its identity. People don’t change their names, well- there are cases like Bob Dylan but what is important is that the ways people and cities create history are different.

When you visit a string of cities in a short period of time, do you ever think they loose their uniqueness or charm? What cities have a unique charm for you?

Well, basically, I love cities- Rome, Istanbul, Paris, Barcelona, Bangkok, New York, Los Angeles, Rio de Janeiro, Havana and Sao Paolo will always be unique to me. Cities aren’t somewhere you should go on business because you only see airport – taxi – hotel – office and back. There are obviously more exciting ways to experience a city- when I went to Valencia, I took a taxi to the museum and on the way back to my hotel I decided to walk and get lost- then it started raining, so I went into a market to avoid the rain but I ended up amidst a pleasant crowd so- getting lost isn’t only an interesting way, it’s also the best way.

What are some architectural or urban ideas you have seen around the world that you think would work well in Tokyo?

Well, I think it’s impossible to import this but, the idea of heavy architecture. Tokyo architecture is very light and thin but it’s not only materials, there’s a spirit too. While the materials can be imported, the spirit can’t. Long ago, the Edo city was made of wood and when the big fire struck, this urban disaster created an atmosphere where people opted for temporary, quickly built houses and so typhoons, fires, earthquakes have in turn influenced our culture of architecture to be more light and transparent.

When you travel, what kind of sightseer are you? Do you like to see public places and famous sites like monuments or do you avoid these in favor of discovering some lesser known niches in the city?

Well, it’s nice to be like a kid and follow your senses. There can be some monumental power attracting you but I want to go somewhere local that I can’t see in Tokyo. If it’s a bland, gray modernist building by some anonymous figure, which I can see in Tokyo, then I wouldn’t go. Everywhere, even in Italy you can find this type boring modern style and I don’t want to spend a lot of time visiting but if it’s a museum and we don’t have it here, then I want to go.

So simply, what are some of your favorite places around the world and in Japan? What do you like to do there?
　
There’s too many so I can’t specify one [laughs]. The reason why I can’t live outside of Japan, is because people outside Japan don’t have soba restaurants [laughs]. I like Paris for being so beautiful, the city itself is like a miracle, a monument itself. It hasn’t been destroyed and you can really see a classic town on such a large scale. New York is one of the craziest cities- with everyone screaming all the time [laughs], but very cool. Kyoto is beautiful but rather modern, and you can still see beautiful temples, most of which have moss gardens which are beautiful too. I also like the landscapes of Mount Fuji and the Seto Inland Sea. I also love the beautiful forests in Aomori with the Oirase おいらせ/奥入瀬 streams. And I’d have to mention Towada lake there too which is beautiful in the autumn. Also, when I visited Iceland, it looked like a different planet, and seemed ancient, like a place where no one lived.

Where do you want to go next? Is a sense of ‘frontier’ or ‘discovery’ important when you decide on where to travel?　

Well, I would like to go to India, since I have never been there or to Africa. I went to Algeria but it was the Sahara in the North so I’d like to venture down South. I still think a sense of the frontier is still important like in Iceland, some places seem like no one lives there and that’s refreshing- it can change your mind and when I come back to Tokyo, I look at the city in a different light.

We often talk about cultural sensitivity- being polite or showing respect to foreign cultures when traveling. What does this mean for the architect that builds in another country? Recently, you have worked on several international projects, have there been any cultural considerations when you build abroad? Could you give us some examples?

Sure, I always respect the local culture and history but I know I can’t become a Spaniard or a New Yorker if that’s where I happen to have a project. I can only do something in my own, Japanese way. Yet, in this situation I can study and learn about a culture when I do something there. But I believe that adding something new is always nice in any city, yet before building, there are proposals and our proposals can look Japanese but also contemporary. In Valencia, we had been working on a museum project and there, I gave a lecture and a student asked, “Why don’t you make it more like Spanish architecture?” I answered, because I’m not Spanish [laughs] but sure, I could imitate ‘Spanish architecture’ but it would be a bad imitation. I want to do something real. When we completed the Rolex Learning Center in Lausanne I thought that it was rather sculptural and so I invited Swiss architect Harry Gugger and he said, “great, this is very Japanese! It almost like Engawa!” [laughs].

I wanted to talk about places and your architecture, in particular The Teshima Art Museum. It was a collaborative project with Rei Naito but I wanted to hear some of your thoughts- how did you take into account the local culture of the island? Did you feel like you were building something in a nearly abandoned environment?

Well, Teshima has a primary school which means there is a population of children. I was impressed by how they live with nature- creating rice fields and settling their villages between the mountains. Teshima has a lot of green, which is rare in the area, but you can see the difference on Naoshima which has more mountains with more top soil than plains of dense green. Teshima’s mountainous features gather more water which also makes it unique for agriculture. And so I didn’t really approach this project with ‘straight architecture’ since everything around the site is in natural, free form shapes, not straight nor flat. But this building was not only for Teshima, it was for people who live in the area on other islands as well as visitors. Also, this is one of the oldest areas of Japan, with a long history so I don’t just see Teshima as one island, rather, these islands are all connected.

An open question, architecture has always had a big influence on culture- to what extent do you think this is still true? If so can you give us an example?
　
Well, the Japanese government created a kind of standard house after World War 2 because most people had lost their homes. The government provided houses with an identical floor plan. It featured a dining room, kitchen, one bedroom and one tatami room. Then the family came to fit that mold as the people who would live there in those spaces. Then all these Japanese people started living in the same house and started living similarly and well, acting similarly [laughs]. So I think something like a floor plan is very influential. You know, this floor plan even strongly suggests that the family must have one husband, one wife and two kids- as a maximum at least. The floor plan even tells you so, so that’s why a couple may have decided to get married and have two kids and then the correlated lifestyle. Architecture often suggests the lifestyle- and of course people cannot just live outside and if you want to live inside you must use available floor plans and again, that’s a strong suggestion in life and lifestyle. But if you make a big room, people start thinking, “hey, we can have a meeting here” and if you have a 100 square meter room you may think about organizing a government and have something like a democracy. In a tiny room, this kind of thinking isn’t as possible. On the other hand, people recently have started to own more than one car in the countryside, sometimes up to three, but the architecture plan says you can only have one car. Gradually the architecture starts changing to allow three parking spaces which means people cut their gardens or some people take out a part of the house. So contemporary life always asks architecture to change but architecture often asks us to change too.

Japan is going through some tough times- no one can claim they know how things are going to develop in the future- but what are some of your thoughts on the next 10, 20-50 years of Japan? How will cities develop, how will more rural areas develop or not? How will or won’t things change from an architectural point of view? Will your office play a part in this?

Well, I think people will start to appreciate living with nature and accept that they may live in a place that is not completely under control. After World War 2, the Japanese created a very artificial and industrial world, like Tokyo. The train is one time, almost every two minutes and you can buy anything you want, at almost anytime. The city is like a machine but I think this will change and people will start to appreciate the role of nature. Of course, the Japanese people have been good at appreciating nature but this spirit is important. Every century has different architecture and the architecture of the past tells you how people before us were living. Today’s 21st century architecture, with contemporary materials, is the only thing we can make so the materials we choose and the spirit we carry and enact is very important, I think.

In terms of the work and direction of my office, I want to show the diversity of relations that people can create based on the potential of architecture. If there is a certain floor plan, then people must live this way, but on the other hand, I want to show a sense of freedom, an open platform where people can start thinking and imagining different ways to use spaces. New architecture may give a new freedom that the previous architecture may not have shown. Architecture can show the diversity of our relations, it can be varied like from the Japanese house of the 1950s and the houses of today and this is something the architecture of today must show.

This interview originally appeared in Papersky No. 36 Genten (September, 2011).

One of Ryue Nishizawa’s recent works in Japan is the Teshima Art Museum located on Teshima Island in the Seto Inland Sea.

David Boilley is a nuclear physicist and the chairman of ACRO (a French NGO with a nuclear testing laboratory). I met with him during his stay in Japan to discuss the current situation of the Fukushima nuclear disaster and what Japan needs to do to protect its citizens both now and into the future.

The Japanese government is now trying to bring back people into the evacuation zone. Is this a sensible decision?

There are two reasons for the 30 kilometers evacuation zone. One is that there may be another explosion tomorrow, because the nuclear power plant is not safe yet. You may have another magnitude 8 or 9 earthquake and it may cause new damage to the reactors. You can imagine many terrible scenarios: until last week, the structure supporting the spent fuel pool of the unit 4 had been very fragile. Now Tepco say they have reinforced the pool, but still, another big earthquake may crack it. Then the water will be out, a meltdown will occur and all of northeastern Japan will be essentially finished. Such an event is not probable but still possible. Also, until two months ago, Tepco had used trucks to pour water into the spent fuel pools. If a tsunami were to hit the site, the trucks would be washed away. Or even a small tsunami could destroy the pipes of the decontamination system, water would flood, and they would have to start all over again. The situation of the plant is still fragile. The second reason for the evacuation zone is that there is contamination. Soil testing will help a lot. In some areas within the evacuation zone, the levels of contamination may be far lower than Iitate Village which is located about 40 kilometers Northwest of the plant. So before allowing people to go back, you have to check these two points. But, in some places people will never be able to go back.

ACRO has been working with Japanese citizens since the very beginning of the Fukushima nuclear disaster. How and why did ACRO decide to help?

About our relationship with Japanese people, it began because, Japan sent nuclear waste to France for reprocessing. Then, 15 years ago, France started to send the waste back to Japan—from La Hague to Rokkasho. At that time, antinuclear Japanese NGOs came to France to convince French people, to keep the Japanese waste in France. They came to ACRO and told us to keep the waste. We said “No” and explained—the waste should go back to Japan because it’s Japanese. It was a very hard discussion, but eventually they were convinced that it wasn’t fair and they had to accept their own waste.

This year, 2011, on the 19th of March, ACRO had a general assembly. It was a coincidence but it was just one week after the beginning of the Fukushima accident. We decided to set our priority to help Japan, and we confirmed that we should help to open a radioactivity-measuring laboratory in Japan. In the meantime, we also decided to begin to take samples from Japan. Most of the members of ACRO agreed on this.
We worked for six years in Belarus, near Chernobyl helping the people living in contaminated areas to set up small laboratories. From this experience we knew how important it was for Japan to have independent laboratories in order to independently and accurately study nuclear contamination.

What about Japan’s food safety limit? The Japanese government is still adopting the provisional safety limit, which was set nearly 5 months ago. When should it be restored to normal?

I don’t know. This is a difficult question. However, our view, such levels set just after a nuclear accident should not be maintained over a long term. With radioactivity, the main rule is the lower the better. Then you have to think about the dose globally. The situation might not be the same for people in contaminated areas and in other places. Since a large part of the food is imported in Japan, the quantity of ingested radioactive food remains low. So for people living far away from the plant, it might be ok. But for people living in the contaminated places the limit of 20 millisieverts per year is much too high and that does not even include food contamination doses. Then, many people wonder if the monitoring of the food is well done. If they can trust the food they buy. The recent beef crisis showed that the monitoring system has failures. Are there other failures? I am very worried about the seafood and fish because seawater monitoring is not stringent enough. Another problem is people growing their own vegetables. If they sell their food, it will be tested. If they eat their own vegetables they won’t be tested. And that’s a big problem.
 
What will happen to marine life in the near future?

Marine life is a very difficult question, for mainly two or three reasons. First of all, from Chernobyl, we have learned a lot about living things on land. But it occurred far from the sea. In addition, some fish move a lot. You never know how much time the fish spent in contaminated seawater. Third, Japanese authorities have regularly tested seawater, but their detection limit is too high. The amount of concentrated radioactive materials in fish can be a hundred times higher and more again in algae than the amount in seawater. For example, Japanese authorities have set the detection limit at 9 becquerels per litter to cesium on seawater monitoring, but it’s obviously too high. They should monitor it more accurately, as we mentioned it on our report published in May. Besides, we can imagine big fish such as tuna and bonito could accumulate contamination, because they are in the end of the food chain. Also, I wonder how much radioactivity concentrates in dried seafood such as bonito flakes (“katsuobushi”). It’s the same story as the drying process of tea leaves. Maybe we should monitor it.
 
What about rice? A lot of people are confused about the transfer of rice grains after we found extraordinary concentration in straw.

I understand your concern, but it’s necessary to know that there are two kinds of transfer of radioactivity for plants. When there is fallout, radioactive materials directly fall on leaves, and the transfer will be dramatic. This is exactly what happened to the tea leaves in Shizuoka Prefecture, which is far from Fukushima. Later, once the radioactivity is in the soil, the transfer through the roots is usually small. Of course we should keep checking tea leaves, but I think there will be no problem with them next year. Also we have seen exactly the same story about leafy vegetables. Think of spinach—in the beginning it was very contaminated, but now it’s ok, exactly for the same reason. This Fukushima nuclear disaster happened in a winter month, which is less drastic for agriculture. If the same accident happened now, I think that a large part of the rice grown in northeast Japan would be finished for the first year, and the food crisis would be much greater.
 
The Japanese government has adopted the 20 millisieverts per year dose limit for all people in Fukushima Prefecture. This is equal to the dose limit of usual nuclear workers. What do you think of this?

This is the limit for nuclear workers and it’s quite shocking. In addition, kids have dosimeters to go to school—they are treated like nuclear workers. The population received internal contamination because of the nuclear accident at Fukushima which is taken into account to check the limit. They did not choose to be irradiated, nuclear workers on the other hand make the choice to take the risk of being irradiated in exchange for money.

There’s no safety limit for radioactivity. There are only the different levels of acceptable risk. The 20 millisieverts per year of dose limit for nuclear workers is based on their choice. Their health will be checked regularly. They make money by taking risks. In addition, nuclear workers are usually selected among healthy people. However, there are weak people among usual citizens—like elderly and children. They cannot take the same risk as the nuclear workers. That’s why the exposure limit for the public is set to a lower value.

Yet, the 1 millisievert per year regulation is designed for a normal life. Anyway- the accident occurred. You have to decide what is a correct limit in this situation. I’m afraid that the normal dose limit of 1 millisievert per year is not realistic. If you adopted it, the population living at least within 80 kilometers would all have to evacuate. So, where shall we put a limit? 1 millisievert is not achievable. 20 millisieverts is too high. That’s a very big question. Fortunately, I’m not a politician who has to make such a decision.

However, I asked the question to the IRSN, the French nuclear expert: What would be the case if a similar accident occurred in France? They answered that they would recommend 10 millisieverts per year in a similar situation, which means an additional 70,000 Japanese people would have to evacuate. Furthermore, IRSN said that a 10 millisieverts limit alone would not be enough. For the people living in contaminated areas where the annual dose is below 10 millisieverts, we should check their way of life. If there are people who don’t evacuate, you have to propose a solution for them so that they can avert intake of radioactivity and avoid radiation hot spots. It’s a very difficult situation, but evacuation is not enough. For those who live in the contaminated areas—whatever the limit—they have to be careful about their way of life.

There are two ways to protect people living in contaminated areas. One is that authorities decide everything and people obey. Or, people learn by themselves and make their own decision. If you choose the latter, they have to have access to measurements of radioactivity. Authorities cannot control everything, as we have seen in the case of contaminated rice straw, which was fed to beef cattle.
 
There are radiation hot spots, even in places far from Fukushima, such as Kashiwa City of Chiba Prefecture and Koto City in eastern Tokyo. How do you analyze these areas?

Kashiwa City is a place which lies midway between dangerous places and safe ones. First of all, evacuation is terrible, because people lose everything. You really lose everything. It’s a very terrible decision. But still, there are dangerous places where evacuation is better. In Kansai, you don’t need to evacuate of course, even in Tokyo, too. Then, Kashiwa City is in a gray zone. I don’t think people of the city need to evacuate, but they need to be careful about their way of life. Of course, radioactivity is terrible, and evacuation is terrible too.
 
Nearly 5 months have passed since the beginning of the Fukushima nuclear disaster. This is human nature, but many people have got tired of hearing anything about the event. How should Japanese people face the fact that the accident occurred and the effect will last for a very long time?

That’s a very hard question. There are two kinds of people, evacuated ones and the others. It’s very important to let the evacuated people know that some of them will not be able to return to their homes. The Japanese government needs to be honest and let these people know the facts. Many people are still dreaming and waiting to go back to their homes but many of them need to start thinking realistically about a new life in a new place. Then, what to do with the “no-man’s” land? For example maybe it is possible to set up a solar power station or wind farm there and make money with it to help the evacuated people.
 
What about other people, for example, those who living in Tokyo?

They should not forget that there are other nuclear power plants in Japan. Then, they should choose whether they want to continue to use nuclear power energy or not. There should be a national debate, maybe a vote. Japanese citizens should decide whether they accept the risk or not, and what kind of society they want for the future.

I think most Japanese people understood there was something wrong in their society. As it’s known, Japanese nuclear safety authorities were badly connected to the political system, which is totally a disaster.

I come to Japan every summer, and every time there’s a new food scandal in this country. We have food scandals in Europe as well, but not as many as in Japan. I think Japanese authorities are not strong enough to control and protect the general society. There is no doubt that today the French nuclear safety authorities are stronger than the Japanese one. While I think Japanese people in generally are more honest than Europeans in their daily lives, still, there are some cheats, especially in Japanese politics on things such as food and nuclear power plants. TEPCO cheated with the power plant, and nothing has changed.

For more information on ACRO, visit their website: http://www.acro.eu.org/

The key focus of Boilley and ACRO’s research has been the Fukushima Dai-Ichi Nuclear Power Plant.

Thick and black; reflecting the fading sunlight, a small sea of ink rests inside the pool of a carved Amehata stone Suzuri. This sumi ink, made from bamboo ash mixed with melted fish bones (and dried into a solid stick) has been ground by Taiun Mochizuki, a 95 year old Shodo (calligraphy) master. On the floor of his room long white sheets of paper have been marked in thick brushstrokes with words, poems, songs and sayings. What words are his favourite? “I have many favorite words” he laughs, and begins searching at length through his documents, finally discovering an A3-sized page with a long numbered list of these favourites.

Taiun Mochizuki is a revered man in Yamanashi, for both his Shodo ability and teaching. He tells us that Shodo culture can — like many of Japan’s traditions — trace its roots back to India. Artefacts such as tortoise shells, wood and bones, inscribed with pictographs have been found from as early as 200BC. That tradition of inscribing then spread to China, where writing culture flourished dramatically and it was here that inkstones were first developed. Writing culture then travelled further East to Korea and finally, to Japan, where it was modified to meet local needs. Over the journey the technical side of writing was simplified down to four tools, the “treasures of the study” as they were called in China: paper, ink, brush and inkstone (Suzuri). But today, of those four, Suzuri is the most threatened.

“Shodo culture will not die anytime soon, it is taught in all Japanese schools. I used to teach it in the forties and fifties,” says Taiun Mochizuki. “But Suzuri making, that is really threatened, especially the Suzuri from Amehata.” These days the local monkey population far outnumbers people in Amehata but it wasn’t always so wild and forgotten; “there used to be almost 10,000 people living in the mountains near Amehata Village when I was twenty-one. I remember we used to bathe in the river in those days.” That was the era when he first began taking Shodo seriously, but his earliest exposure to the form of writing came when his father would call him and his siblings together to show them beautiful written letters. “He’d say ‘you should write like this,’ I remember that well. I was the oldest of nine siblings, now I’m the only one left.” Taiun Mochizuki is very old, and as we lose track of our talk about Shodo and Suzuri he talks easily about events and memories from vastly different eras and continents.

Many things change in a life lived so long; some things remain constant. Every time he writes, dipping his brush into a small sea of ink resting in a carved Amehata stone, he tries to invoke the same meditative state, calling upon those memories from the past. “I put all my life into my Shodo, I put everything in. My whole life goes into what I am writing. All my experiences come together in one small moment and it feels like nothingness. And that all starts with the Suzuri, it’s just my movements and the stone. No thinking.”

For more information, visit: http://villa-amehata.com/

Original text and images were published in Papersky #36 (Tokaido August, 2011).

Suzuri are an essential part of Japan’s writing history but they are also an embodiment of Japan’s spiritual history; as instruments for meditation. “If you want to write something pure, something approaching truth, then your mind should be clear. This is what is interesting about Suzuri, it is a tool for self reflection, and I believe it can be viewed as a sculptural item.”

Sitting cross legged on a mat, Yataro Amemiya, a 17th generation Suzuri maker, explains his philosophy from the concrete floor of his workshop. Down the road from the Amehata slate mine, just out of the mountains, is a small house and workshop owned by the Amemiya family. For over 500 years this family has been carving stones into Suzuri. Yataro Amemiya, wide eyed and permanently smiling is devoted to his craft, but he wants it to adapt. “I want to change the thinking about Suzuri, it is a craft object, but it is also a fine art object at the same time.” It is hard for us to understand today, but historically, Shodo (calligraphy) in Japan had a deeply spiritual function.

Borrowing from Chinese ideas about Buddhism, the act of mixing ink for writing became a meditative act; the physical expression of Zen philosophy. Writers grinding the ink stick often found themselves falling into a natural rhythm, and because making ink this way is time consuming that rhythm invoked a state of in-motion meditation. The depth of that state all depends on the look, and feel of the Suzuri. Unfortunately, over the past fifty years Suzuri have increasingly been built by machines using ceramics or plastic; turning them into cheap and ubiquitous items, and over time stripping them of their immaterial values. “People today do not know the value of a good Inkstone, or its connection to the past,” says Amemiya.

Unfortunately these values and history are not known easily, it seems. After graduating from an art university, Amemiya worked briefly for an Italian sculptor in the 1980s. His works from this time were large-scale sculptures, where heavy metal shapes have been bored with large holes. “At first I had separate names; one for my Suzuri work and one for my sculptural works. I thought they were separate, but art and craft are the same. Categories which separate them are meaningless.”

It took Amemiya a long time to reach that conclusion. The qualities of stone are not understood easily or intuitively. Least understood is its potential for invoking spiritual states, but to Amemiya this is the key to the Suzuri. Amemiya takes us to his collection of Suzuri, and we see them lined up behind glass. “You can have a totally non-functional Suzuri – an instrument which grinds ink poorly – but it can still easily clear your mind. Or you can have a totally functional instrument which can not clear your mind. It is a balance between physical and spiritual worlds.”

For more information, visit: http://amehatasuzurihonpo.com/

Original text and images were published in Papersky #36 (Tokaido August, 2011).