Fall arrives I

In the last two weeks, fall has crept slowly but steadily into Kansai. In the Tales of Genji, Lady Murasaki recounts that each year brings heavy debate among gardeners and admirers comparing the separate merits of fall and spring. Although the text is one of the first pieces of literature in Japanese, fall and spring are still the favored seasons. In fact, there’s a special word that means “spring of autumn” as if spring weather were taking place in October. Especially since this year is a La Nina year, the summer is too hot, and the winter is too cold to enjoy.

As you know, the island is long and thin, and mostly made up of mountains. Grossly, the geography is homogenous in section, but varies according to latitude. Perhaps for this reason, it is with reasonable accuracy that folklore predicts a beautiful sunset brings fair weather for the following day. When sunsets are especially beautiful, the term used means “the sky is on fire.”

Like sailor lore, which says, “red sky in the morning, sailor take warning, red sky at night, sailor’s delight,” a rosy dawn also predicates afternoon rain in Japan.

The first sign of fall was the last day of the Setouichi Art Festival, which took place on the 7 islands of the Inland Sea, between Honshu (main island) and Shikoku (large island close to Kansai). The festival lasted 100 days, and inaugurated the triennale. This is the second application of art festival programming to stimulate a depressed local economy in Japan, the first being the Niigata Art Festival. Even the last weekend, whose attendance was compromised by threats of an impending typhoon, was packed. Locals expressed a mixture of interest in international and domestic visitors, enterprise in setting up short-term concessions businesses, and irritation with interruptions in daily routine. Artists ranged from starchitect pieces from Sejima, to a visit from a travelling installation whose mission it is to record the heartbeats of everyone in the world, to an old Showa-era Japanese house fitted with props and recordings to make believe a thunderstorm raged outside. 

Well, actually, on the last day of the festival, a storm was raging outside, somewhat dampening the intended contrast. The effect of a storm ravaging a small island town could be felt more intensely outside, while waiting for the ferry in the dark for an hour or two. Thanks to the above-mentioned enterprising nature of the island residents, we had plenty of beer and fresh fried octopus to keep us happy and warm. Two days later, I hear, the storm hit Seattle. So I’m not that far away after all: just two days by storm system.

Thanks for reading, if you’d like to see more pictures, please search me on facebook, my photos for this trip are available to everyone.