Coming unbelievablely close to crying to happy tears, today’s visit to the Ghibli Museum in Mitaka, Tokyo had me see the entire creative smorgasbord of Miyazaki’s background works, so overwhelmingly powerful in its unique beauty and expressiveness I was in absolute awe time and time again. While many of the exhibits were clearly designed with children in mind ( in another sense Miyazaki’s works tend to bring out the hidden child in our psyche ), the mockup animation studio, plastered all over with ORIGINAL MIYAZAKI coloured concept sketches, storyboards, stole most of my time as I pored over each drawing, in particular those of Mononoke Hime, as if the close physical proximity in the presence of such grandeur would transfer some of its creative potency to me. Alas, nothing.

By a mere stroke of luck, Pixar Animation Studios was also hosting an exhibition of its concept works under the auspices of Miyazaki. On its own this would have generated an enormous amount of excitement ( all the concept works are also originals, the pastels on the Finding Nemo coloured storyboards still flaky ), but when pitched against Ghibli’s wonderful work I couldn’t bring myself to appreciate it fully. Certainly the animators from Pixar attest to the influence of Miyazaki’s works ( see picture above ), where they’ve painted a much iconic Totoro poster complete with Mike and Sullivan, surrounded by signatures and praises from many of their animators, the main caption reading “To Hayao Miyazaki : Your work is an inspiration to us.”

Tian Zhuangzhuang’s Springtime in a Small Town is a quaint little piece of cinema set in China during the post 2nd world war period, a brief, uneasy intermission between the end of the Japanese invasion and the Communist Takeover. In a small, derelict war torn town in Southern China, a doctor ( Zhang Zhichen ) from Shanghai pays an unexpected visit to his old school friend Dai Liyan, whose wife ( Yuwen ) he now recognizes as the woman he had a brief but passionate affair ten years ago. No longer in close proximity with his husband because of his poor health and temper, while still bearing feelings for her former beau, the arrival of the guest sets off an uneasy tension amidst the small household, complicated more by Liyan’s younger sister who also takes a liking for doctor.

Springtime is one of those films I’ve come to recognized ( together with a few others like the Korean Take Care of my Cat and One Fine Spring Day ) where seemingly nothing important seems to happen and the narrative justs drags on ceaselessly, certain anathema to Hollywooders and many other moviegoers, but whose real value lies in a small conscious effort on the viewer’s part to invest alittle patience or even better, a second viewing, where they’d be greatly rewarded.

Beautifully shot in slow, deliberate takes through the shadowy corridors of the old house, it evokes the same aesthetics last felt in Wong Kar Wai’s In the Mood for Love, no stranger because of DP Li Pingbin, who worked together with Doyle.

Highly recommended, but Hollywooders *yawns heard*, you’ve been so caveated.

It was way back during my secondary school days when I first studied about the pioneer artists of Singapore in my arts theory class, a small group of talented individuals banded together by their collective passion for the visual arts. Some names that are still fresh in my mind were the late Chen Wen hsi, Chen Chong Swee, Georgette Chen, the calligrapher Pan Shou, as well as Liu Kang ( His son Liu Thai Ger is presently the chairman of NAC, the body overlooking my scholarship ) who has just passed away 2 days ago, the last of the pioneer artists.

During a Chen Wen hsi Retrospective exhibition that was held at the Singapore National Museum about 10 years ago, I had the good fortune of meeting with Mr Liu Kang personally. I remember vividly how me and my classmates caught him sipping ice-cream with his wife at the YMCA Macdonalds, where after we followed him and asked for his autograph at the exhibition. Dispite the huge age gap he was most hospitable and approachable, exhorting us in our pursuit of the arts as young individuals, just like he had done so. Although pursuing a different course in the arts now, the experience I had with him them was certainly one of the highlights of my younger school days.

Art exhibitions seem to be in the wind recently, this morning together with 2 taiwanese classmates I visited the Bunkamura Art Museum in Shibuya, Tokyo to view the Monet – Great Impressionists exhibition, which includes pieces by some other notable painters like Seurat, Signac, Bonnard and Renoir. While many of the artists’ greater works were not on show, ie Renoir’s “Le dejeuner des canotiers”, more commonly known as the Amelie Painting, it was exhilarating to see Monet’s Waterlilies in person.

Tokyoscape, on the way home from Shibuya.

Later at a bookstore in Shibuya, my attention is quickly drawn to a promotional movie trailer playing off a small TV, its music, mood and visual style just screaming Shunji Iwai. Hana & Alice, Iwai’s latest film. I was seized by an intense and involuntary urge to tear off the movie poster and boot, but my friends shook their heads violently in disapproval. Saddened, I was however jolted back to my senses, remembering succintly the exact purpose of my studies in Japan, the earnest passion I have for the moving image and narrative that was in a huge part, attributed to the artistic influences bore by watching Iwai’s cinematic magnum opus, Love Letter.

Talk about uncanny serendipity. Today morning I was at the Tokyo Metropolitan Art Museum to view an exhibition on 17th century Flemish and Dutch painters, which included some works by Peter Paul Rubens, Rembrant and Vermeer. As I sat down near a resting area by the main entrance after I’ve finished, this caucasian gentleman wearing a cap and spotting a most distinctive sharp, angular nose walked by. He could have been any of those tourists around, but he wasn’t just any other tourist. This man is Captain Jean Luc Picard, commander of Starfleet Enterprise, Prof Charles Xavier, leader of the X-men.

I couldn’t believe my eyes, but I also couldn’t pass up such a good chance to get an autograph, so here you go. Mr Patrick Stewart was all friendly and courteous, an exemplary British gentleman indeed.

Hayao Miyazaki’s Studio Ghibli, the birthplace of revered animation pieces like Mononoke Hime and Spirited Away, is located in Koganei, Tokyo, a quiet suburban neighbourhood about 15 minutes trainride away from Shinjuku. Hidden in a peaceful corner surrounded by typical Japanese households, its identity is only revealed by the studio sign in front of its front porch, no totoro statue, no Ohmu figurine, as unassuming and modest as it can be. On its side entrance a meeting room with glass windows reveals original Miyazaki artwork hanging on the walls. Entrance into the actual building is strictly for staff members only, but I was already more than awed to be in such close quarters where some of the world’s most wondrous animation pieces were created.

Next stop, Ghibli Museum, Mitaka Tokyo.