I started with Ebisu. Its not a hugely popular district in Tokyo, but it has some worthwhile attractions. I started the day early. Mostly because I was in search of pants, as the Japanese call them. Through some strange lack of foresight, I had packed less underwear than there were days in my trip. So I was searching for pants, but no pants, no pants. Pantsless, I hung around waiting around some financial buildings waiting for the photography museum to open.
The photography museum was one of the things that I was most looking forward to in Tokyo. I fantasized about all the crazy,, modern Japanese photography I was going to see. All the bizarre video installations of performance art... But of course, I was sure to be disappointed. When I got to the museum, the front desk girl informed me that two of the three floors were closed in preparation for a new exhibit. Its ok I thought. At least there is still one floor of a Contemporary Asian photo goodness. Then I looked at my ticket. The only exhibit in the whole place was for stupid Early American Photography. I didn't come halfway across the world to see American photography. Also early photography is really not my cup of tea. Photos of civil war generals and old family portraits don't really do a whole lot for me. I cruised around there for a while, and then went to the second floor to maybe catch a glimpse of what they were putting up for the new exhibit. Of course, the string of ironies was not complete. I picked up the poster for the next exhibit that was opening that weekend. Of course it was everything that I had wanted to see in the first place. Morimura, (one of my favorite, and weirdest, Japanese photographers), Julian Opie, Sam Taylor-Wood (a photographer that I wrote part of my thesis one), and a bunch of other pretty awesome looking photographers were going to be represented. It was a maddening little discovery... but I guess its an excuse to go back to Tokyo for the weekend. One redeeming factor if the photography museum was the 15 foot tall reproductions of famous photos on the outside of the building- including my favorite Doisneau.
After the disappointing photography the next logical step was to go to the beer museum. Ebisu has an old factory for Yebisu beer that closed, but the reopened it as a museum for the beer brand. It was free and contained beer, so what the hell. I was followed in by Henri, an out of place french guy, who tried to pick me up. After having to endure being told that I reminded him of his French girlfriend who died in a helicopter accident. I shook him off and looked through the tiny tiny exhibits. Then I headed to the tasting lounge. I enjoyed a glass of cold Japanese beer. I left for Uenoa little happier.
Once in Ueno, my search for pants resulted in a victory at Uniqlo. I ate a ridiculous crepe on the street that was filled with custard, strawberries, bananas, and chocolate. Then I went to the Museum of Western art. I had been seeing posters all over town for the Corot exhibit. I decided to opt for the Corot exhibit in addition to the permanent collection. The Corot part was full of people. I realized that I don't really like Corot. I only like the two paintings of his used to advertise the exhibit. I guess it was good marketing on their part. A bit of a waste of time on mine. The regular exhibit had a lot of renaissance and biblical paintings. I guess thats the exotic stuff for Easterners. There were also some Impressionist stuff including a Monet waterlillies.
To add to the pants success I also finally had success finding an english language bookstore that wasnt astronomically priced. I went back to the hostel for some napping action. Then it was off to Shinjuku in search of Jetee. Jetee is a little bar in the Golden Gai section of Shinjuku. Its run by a film buff and is a tribute to Chris Marker's film La Jetee. I was kind of amazed that anyplace, especially a bar, would be dedicated to a rarely watched, but amazing, blackand white art film. I heard about it back in the states. I decided that I had to go. I wrote part of my thesis on this film and I watched it a lot. Its pretty incredible- a movie made out of photo stills with crazy metaphysical twists and turns. The decision to go was easy. Actually getting there was not. The Golden Gai is notoriously difficult to navigate. Its made of tiny alleys, with tiny tiny places all crowding for space. I did the thing where i stand in front of the big map on the street with my guidebook map in my hand and study both until I figure it out. A very nice, handsome japanese man asked me in Japanese where I was going. I told him I wanted to go to a temple that we near Jetee. I figured that it would be too confusing to try and tell him where it was i was actually trying to go. i thought If I just got the temple I would only be a block or two away and it would be easy to find. Instead of just telling me where to go, the man started walking. He was taking me there himself! Only in Japan. He asked me why I wanted to go to the temple now. I realized that it all msut seem really stupid- I was trying to go to a temple at 9 at night, when the temple has been closed for hours. i explained where I wanted to go and why. We chatted in English on the way there. I think much of the incentive for escorting me to the bar was an opportunity to practice English. Also, he was very helpful. When we got to the area, we still couldn't really find it. My man asked another guy who was standing outside of a theater. He took the two of us right to it. My man told me to have a good time. I thanked him and he went on his way again. That would never happen in America.
Jetee had a heavy black door with simple black letters that said Jetee. That was all there to identify it. The bar was up a very narrow flight of stairs. The place was ridiculously small. It was perhaps the size of a walk in closet. Its maximum capacity was maybe 8 people. it was clean but dingy. When I had heard that the place was decorated with film stills from La Jetee, I swear I had seen a picture of a ceiling literally covered with overlapping photos. I must have hallucinated this image or it must have been from some other place, because here "covered" meant three film stills on the wall. Maybe given the microscopic size of the place "covered" was not too much of a stretch. There were some other posters of art films around. When I came in there were a group of three blue-collar men sitting there smoking cigarettes and drinking. It was a bit of a strange sight. They were obviously regulars, given the mama-chan's banter with them. But these men obviously knew nothing about film, let alone western film, and here they must come every night for there after work drinking. I felt a little awkward in there, in such an intimate spot, all by myself, taking in the atmosphere. The owner though, spoke perfect english and we chatted intermittently about movies and such, The rest of the time I just sipped my drink, looked around, and wrote in my notebook.
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