The Japan Society Review 82
Book, Stage, Film, Arts and Events Review

Issue 82 Volume 14 Number 4 (August 2019)

On 1 May 2019, Prince Naruhito ascended the throne as the126th Emperor of Japan beginning the Reiwa era. The firstJapanese emperor who studied outside Japan, he attended
University of Oxford between 1983 and 1985 (his memoirs of
those years were translated into English by Sir Hugh Cortazzi
as The Thames and I (reprinted 2019)). His ascension to the
Chrysanthemum Throne continues a long history of relations
between the Japanese imperial and British royal families. The
150 years of these relations are the subject of the Japan Society
most recent publication British Royal and Japanese Imperial
Relations, 1868-2018:150 Years of Association, Engagement andCelebration published in association with Renaissance Books.
Professor Ian Nish, Professor Emeritus of International History at
the London School of Economics, has reviewed the book forthis August issue of The Japan Society Review.
From a different perspective of Anglo-Japanese relations,
Naoko Abe explores the individual story of Collingwood ‘Cherry’own life to capture the spirit of the times in which he lived, fromthe everyday lives of the upper classes in the British countrysidein the late 19th and early 20th century to the horrors of war.
Another personal account of living in Japan, Bridge to theGods: Tales from Kyushu written by Andrew Thomson is not
only a charming description of his personal contemporary life
in Kyushu, Japan’s third largest and southern- and westernmost
island, but also an exploration of the region’s rich culture,
cuisine, history and attractions. The book includes maps andpictures of the area and a glossary of Japanese words.
The final review of this issue is dedicated to theshow Scored in Silence directed and performed by Chisato
Minamimura. A mixture of performance, lecture, history lesson,and an experiment with new technology, Scored in Silence
unpacks the untold tales of deaf hibakusha – survivors of theatomic bombs that fell in Hiroshima and Nagasaki in 1945 andtheir experiences at the time and thereafter.

Ingram and his passion for collecting and cultivating cherrytrees in ‘Cherry’ Ingram: The Englishman Who Saved Japan’s
Blossoms. An updated English translation of Abe’s awardwinning Japanese book, this publication goes beyond Ingram’s

Another issue of The Japan Society Review full of insights
and topics thanks to our volunteer reviewers. Enjoy the read!
Alejandra Armendáriz-Hernández

Contents
1)

British Royal and Japanese Imperial Relations, 18682018 edited by Peter Kornicki, Antony Best and Sir HughCortazzi

2)‘Cherry’ Ingram: The Englishman Who Saved Japan’s
Blossoms by Abe Naoko

3)

Bridge to the Gods: Tales from Kyushu. Memoirs of a Lifein Far South Japan by Andrew Thomson

4)

Scored in Silence directed and performed by Chisato
Minamimura

EditorAlejandra Armendáriz-Hernández
Reviewers
Alice Baldock, Laurence Green, Ian Nish and Trevor Skingle.
Image: Her Majesty the Queen enjoying a private moment with His
Imperial Majesty Emperor Akihito during the imperial state visit to theUnited Kingdom in May 1998. Photo: Courtesy PA.
Detail from the cover of British Royal and Japanese Imperial Relations,

1868-2018:150 Years of Association, Engagement and Celebration.

British Royal and JapaneseImperial Relations,
1868-2018:150 Years of
Association, Engagement
and Celebration
edited by Peter Kornicki, Antony
Best and Sir Hugh Cortazzi
Renaissance Books and the Japan
Society (2019)
ISBN-13: 978-1898823865
Review by Ian Nish
Sir Hugh Cortazzi stated that he wanted the papers forthe final 10th volume in his long series entitled Britain
and Japan Biographical Portraits to be delivered intime for his 90th birthday. This was intended as an
inducement for sluggish contributors like me to speed
up. He achieved his object: the volume was publishedin 2016. But he had a surprise still in store for us. He
pulled a rabbit out of the hat, the present volume
dealing with court relations between the two countries
and the role they played, subjects neglected in theearlier volumes. In telling the story, Sir Hugh is joinedby two experts in the field, Professor Peter Kornicki andProfessor Antony Best.
Part I (Kornicki) deals with the reigns of two longserving hereditary monarchs: Queen Victoria (18371901) and the Emperor Meiji (1868-1912). Meiji himself
never left the shores of Japan. The junior Japaneseprinces came to Britain and to other countries fromthe 1870s onwards for education, language study
and military training. Britain gladly obliged though
its attitude was paternalistic towards the newcomer.
Prince Alfred, Duke of Edinburgh, the second son ofVictoria, visited Japan in 1869 despite security scares.
He met the Emperor Meiji. The reception of this official
mission was very favourable. Other British princes(Albert Victor, George and Arthur) made contact withJapan over shorter periods but it was generally inconnection with their assignments in the Royal Navy.
The limit to royal connections at this stage, Professor
Kornicki thinks, was that ‘Japan was simply not seen
as an important world player until its victory in the
Sino-Japanese war.’ (p. 53) But success in that war
in 1895 created its own problems for Britain. At thetime of preparing the ceremonial for Queen Victoria’s
Diamond Jubilee in 1897, Japan threatened that she
would not be represented by a prince unless he wasgiven equal status with the European representatives
invited. She won her case but had to ask!
2

The second Part (Best) is entitled ‘A Royal Alliance:
Court Diplomacy 1902-41’. There were high points andlow points in this period which covered the reigns of
two Emperors Taisho 1912-26 and Showa 1926-88; andthe reigns of Kings Edward VII 1901-10, George V andGeorge VI. Japan had been spectacularly successful
in her development in the previous century and her
progress industrially was greatly admired in Britain.
The high point was reached in the two decades of theAnglo-Japanese alliance which was signed in 1902,
revised in 1905 and again in 1911. The statesmen andrulers of the day praised it as the lynchpin of theirforeign policy, but each time it was renewed with lessenthusiasm. In Britain the sovereign opposed the awardof the Order of the Garter, the highest order of chivalry,
to non-Christian monarchs, until Japan’s resounding
victory over Russia in 1905. The following year a Garter
Mission under Prince Arthur of Connaught, was sent toTokyo and presented the Garter to the Meiji Emperor,
King Edward VII having given way in his opposition.
Prince Komatsu (Higashi-Fushimi) who was later torepresent his country at the Japan-British Exhibition of1910, performed the reciprocal mission in 1907.
Under the heading ‘Two Funerals and Two
Coronations’, Professor Best points out that royal
princes had to do much travelling in the years that
followed. They had to attend the funerals of Edward
VII (1910) and the Meiji Emperor (1912) and thecoronations of their successors. So the royal rituals ofcordiality were observed; but there were disturbing
undertones. The British were irritated by the inroads
Japanese were making into the economy of China
and saw the position deteriorating with the revolution
there in 1911-2, while Japan blamed Britain for not
helping with her long-term plans for China.
Britain decided to renew the Anglo-Japanesealliance for ten years until 1921, feeling that it was
opportune to keep in place the constraints imposed onJapan under the alliance. With the outbreak of the firstworld war, the position became very sensitive over the
degree of Japan’s commitment to the Entente cause.
Towards the war’s end, things had reached such an
extreme that Britain decided to present the Emperor
Taisho with a field-marshal’s baton of the British army,
and Prince Arthur of Connaught was asked to leadanother mission, on this occasion a military mission.
But there was the additional political hope of weaning
senior Japanese military officers away from any proGerman leanings they had.
The Anglo-Japanese alliance was built into
the court system after two decades. But it came
Issue 82 Volume 14 Number 4 (August 2019)

under criticism by outside powers at the Paris Peace
Conference and was wound up at the Washington
conference of 1921. It was finally laid to rest two years
later. Japan believed that these post-war international
settlements had been stacked against her. Many
thinkers in both countries wondered what could
be done to secure peace and stability in east Asia.
Some contribution could surely be made by those
who undertook royal missions. Crown Prince Hirohito
visited Britain in the course of a European tour in 1921,
which was a success for someone who was young
and naturally shy. The following year Edward Princeof Wales, who was paying a visit to India was asked
to proceed to Japan where his outgoing personality
seems to have attracted the Japanese public. On his
return from overseas, the Crown Prince became regent
until his ailing father’s death in 1926. After Hirohito’saccession to the throne, Britain sent a further mission
led by the Duke of Gloucester in 1929 to present theShowa Emperor with the Order of the Garter. Thiswas reciprocated by Prince and Princess Takamatsu
who had just married. After the business had been
completed, the British government invited them as a
gesture to stay a further week in Britain at its expense.
From both sides these visits in the middle of a fraught
period had an overtly political dimension: it was easiest
to use the ruling families to restore some of the former
cordiality.
Prince Chichibu, who had been partly educatedin UK between 1929 and 1931 and was brother ofthe Emperor Hirohito, took important steps in thisdirection, assisted by his wife, Princess Chichibu, thedaughter of the prominent ambassador Matsudaira
Tsuneo, who was born in Walton on Thames andhad received part of her education in Britain. He andhis wife were together nominated to attend King
George VI’s coronation in 1937 and were accorded
unexpected privileges, despite the outbreak of the war
in China and the fraught atmosphere in Britain causedby the abdication crisis. Professor Best’s view is thatby the mid-thirties ‘the court had become one of thelast bastions of pro-British sentiment in Japan’. (p.120)
Certainly a coterie of significant figures was appointed
to senior positions at Court, including Count Makino
Nobuaki, veteran of the Paris peace conference andwell-known liberal, and ex-ambassador Matsudaira
Tsuneo who held the office of Minister for the Imperial
Household. From the end of the 30s royal relations
entered what Best describes as ‘a deep freeze’.
The final and longest Part written by HughCortazzi bears the title ‘Renewing and Developing
Latest reviews: www.japansociety.org.uk/resources/reviews/

Royal Relations in a Changed World: 1945-2018’. In thechanged world, Japan had to face the fact of her defeat
in war; Britain had to accept her diminished role in east
Asia. The United States was top dog. The Japanese
depended on her for their economic recovery. The
British likewise.
In 1962 Princess Alexandra aged 24 visited
Japan after a university function in Hong Kong. Hers
was a cultural tour but came to be associated with agovernment effort to penetrate the Japanese market.
Japan was enjoying prodigious economic growth;and Britain sensed potential for the revival of trade.
This initiative was reciprocated by Princess Chichibu,
who had inherited his role as imperial patron in theJapan-British Society in Tokyo when her husband diedin 1953. In this capacity she guided the paths of anincreasing number of royal visitors. She accompanied
Princess Margaret when she visited Japan to attend
British Week in Tokyo in 1969. With the improvementof the Japanese economy, Britain arranged for Expo tobe held in Osaka in 1970, with Prince Charles attending.
The royal presence in these cases seemed to confirm
that goodwill had been re-established in AngloJapanese relations and some of the bitter relationshipsof the war period had been forgotten.
On 31 August 1971 the Emperor announced that
he would like to visit Europe despite the anti-Japanesesentiments being expressed there. In the case of
Britain, the Order of the Garter was restored to theJapanese sovereign as a symbol of welcome. This wasa state visit, indeed the first of the kind, the Emperor
to some extent followed his own interests, visiting theRoyal Society where he was awarded its fellowshipbecause of his specialised research in marine biology
and also the Linnean Society. For him these were highpoints in the story. Ambassador Sir John Pilcher who
accompanied the mission reported on the favourable
reactions in Japan and on the column inches devoted
to it by the Japanese press. But he ends his accountwith the pessimistic reflection: ‘that the misdeeds ofthe past still remain alive.’ (p.169)
Certainly the press in both countries went totown on the ‘insults’ directed by the public at theEmperor; those who were looking for affronts could
find them. But as one who stood on the pavement tosurvey the procession of the royal coach as it passed
through central London I cannot say that they werein worse taste than usual. By Japanese conventions it
may have caused consternation and a national insult.
But the whole of the visit was observed by the general
British public with respectful silence and calm.
3

In 1975 Queen Elizabeth II paid a state visit toJapan in the company of Prince Philip – the first state
visit to Japan by a British monarch. It involved stays
in Tokyo, Kyoto, Osaka and Ise. Those who imagine
that royal visits can be arranged without diplomaticdifficulty may read the background story of thequeen’s projected drive in an open car through central
Tokyo with relish (p.177). Eventually it was agreed
that she would travel in an open convertible Cadillac.
Japanese and British TV audiences savoured the public
exposure of the royals; and the Japanese generalpublic for whom it was a new experience appeared toenjoy the concept of open monarchy. Ironically theirstay coincided with strikes and transport showdowns,
events more associated with ‘igirisubyo’ (English
disease) than with Japan. But the Japanese press
which had often made capital out of Britain’s poor
record for labour disruptions stayed reticent about
Japan’s dilemma.
On both sides there was an overwhelming viewthat the Queen’s visit with its innovations ‘marked asignificant step towards reconciliation and renewal ofold friendships.’ It was followed by the Crown Prince’s
visit to the UK in 1976 and Prince Charles’s journey toJapan with Princess Diana a decade later.
A new aspect of this record of royal visits is theexperience of Prince Naruhito, the elder son of Crown
Prince Akihito and Princess Michiko, at a university
where he had to sample the normal life of a British
student. A significant number of the Japanese imperialfamily had attended courses at British universities for
short periods before this so it was not entirely novel.
But Naruhito broke new ground by undertaking postgraduate studies at Merton College, Oxford during theyears 1983-5 and enjoyed the research experience.
In a memoir he wrote entitled The Thames andI (1993), he gives a brief sketch of the research hecarried out on the waterways of central England andthe contribution they made to the country’s economic
growth and to regional development in the 18th
century. After his return to Japan, the prince wrote
enthusiastically:
The name of the Thames conjures up in me feelingsof affection and nostalgia transcending distance andtime (The Thames and I, p. 126)

He leaves us an account of his experiencesin college (where of course he was anonymous),punctuated by some very homely hints about ‘doing
my own laundry and ironing.’ This gave him, he4

claims, some degree of understanding of British life
and attitudes as seen ‘from the inside’. Apart fromhis studies, he entered into student life with gusto,
whether it was classical music (he played the viola inchamber music trios) or the various sports available. He
also toured widely in Britain and visited 13 European
countries. Copies of his Japanese memoir were
distributed to the students of Gakushuin University,
surely a sign that Japan’s ruling family had come to beviewed in a new light.
When the Showa Emperor died in January 1989,
the Queen was represented at the lavish state funeralby Prince Philip who flew in his own plane from Kenya
and crowned heads from around the globe attended.
It was the passing of an era. But state visits havecontinued. The Heisei Emperor paid a state visit to
the UK in 1998 and, after a bout of illness, came again
with his wife Michiko in 2012 to congratulate Queen
Elizabeth II on her diamond jubilee.
Naruhito became Crown Prince, in which
capacity he made further visits to the UK. In 1991 heand the Prince of Wales gave speeches of support atthe ‘Japan Festival 1991’- a large-scale cultural festivalof over 60 official events to mark the centenary of
the Japan Society in London. Its aim was to promote
greater knowledge and understanding of Japan’sculture and get rid of any misconceptions (p. 194).
Similar patronage was offered to ‘Japan 2001’, a festival
running for 11 months dedicated to theatre, music
and art, the climax being the Matsuri held in Hyde Park.
There is much in Part III which is based on insider
knowledge. It is rich in contemporary quotations,invaluable for showing the contemporary assumptionsof the participants. This book will for long be thestandard work; and the reader will find it convenient
as a reference work for Sir Hugh has included aremarkable amount of detail. As elsewhere in the book,the endnotes are authoritative and encyclopaedic.
The publishers, Renaissance Press, must also becommended for the rich collection of illustrations
they have unearthed from the past history of AngloJapanese relations and the generous selection ofplates they have reproduced. The valuable appendix
to this study provides an illuminating chronology ofRoyal and Imperial visits between 1868 and 2018.
In studying the relationship between the British
royal and Japanese imperial families, the threecontributors to this study show that there was not anuninterrupted progress towards friendship in the past.
On the contrary, the two countries have had a bumpy
ride. Japan was steered into the community of nations
Issue 82 Volume 14 Number 4 (August 2019)in the early 20th century through its association with
the Anglo-Japanese Alliance with all its ups and downs.
After it ended, Japan seemed to adopt a nationalist
posture which brought it increasingly into contention
with Britain. The situation deteriorated in the 1930sand drifted slowly to war. In the aftermath goodwill
was only slowly re-created. There were reservations
on the British side about the harshness of the past;and the cordiality of royal contacts played its part inrepairing this issue. This book has convinced me thatas two of the few remaining constitutional monarchies
in the world, Britain and Japan should stick together
and that healthy communication between our two
royal houses may help to smooth over difficulties
which arise in the future.
As Sir David Warren writes in his Preface, thisvolume is a splendid tribute to the late Sir HughCortazzi who by his sheer energy over four decadesof retirement steered many volumes on Anglo-

Japanese British side relations through the publishingprocess. His long-cherished purpose was to increase
our understanding of modern Japan and her tangled
connections with Britain. He prodded my generation
to study the history of these countries; and in his many
writings he led by example!
Prince Charles is able to write in 2006 of ‘theclose friendship between the United Kingdom andJapan which is reflected in the solid bond between
the Imperial and Royal Families’. (The Thames andI, Renaissance Books. p. v) But what of the future?
At the end of the book the editor warns against too
much optimism: ‘the continuance of close and friendly
relations between the two monarchies cannot betaken for granted’. (p. 212) They need, Sir Hugh argues,
to be cultivated and contacts planned. After 150 years
there is still room for stimulating them with a variety of
new approaches and bodies like the Japan Society are
sufficiently diverse in their interests to play their part.§‘Cherry’ Ingram: The
Englishman Who Saved
Japan’s Blossoms

background (his grandfather was the founder of The
Illustrated London News), the early chapters feel almost
like an episode of the BBC’s Who Do You Think You
Are. these are richly evocative of the era, kick-startinga veritable Who’s Who of prestigious figures from the
British upper classes that continues throughout thebook. As Ingram’s relationship with Japan develops
following trips in 1902 and 1907, those familiar withthe early interplay of relations between Japan andthe West will spot references to many familiar faces:
Kaempfer, Hearn, Mitford, amongst others. Thatsaid, while those knowledgeable about the relevant
periods of Japanese history will undoubtedly glean
the most from this volume, Abe is at pains to illustratethat this English edition of the book (adapted from aJapanese version released some years back) has been
fully fleshed-out with the relevant material to easenewcomers into the appropriate cultural and historicalcontext.
Indeed, Abe – a Japanese journalist and writer
now living in London with her British husband – feels
particularly well placed to catalogue Ingram’s life;
the reporter’s eye for meticulous detail and a strong
central narrative paired with some rather charming
personal anecdotes that lend a warmer touch andalmost novel-like turn of phrasing at times. For abook that must rely largely on words to convey theirrepressible beauty of the cherry blossom, it feels only
natural that it should be allowed free reign in using arich panoply of description – ensuring an emotivenessby Abe Naoko
Chatto & Windus (2019)
ISBN-13: 9781784742027
Review by Laurence GreenIf we are to read history as the story of great individuals,
then few would be better placed to symbolise theties between Japan and Great Britain across the 20th
century than Collingwood ‘Cherry’ Ingram. Born in1880 and living until he was a hundred year old, thescope of Ingram’s life – and his passion for cultivating
and preserving cherry trees – feels appropriately epic
in stature. This marvellous biography, penned so
eloquently by Naoko Abe, crucially captures not only
the story of Ingram’s own life, but the spirit of thetimes in which he lived; the last days of Empire, andof a Britain and Japan struggling to balance agelesstradition with the relentless rhythms of modernisation.
It is an elegiac tale, tinged with the same bittersweet
beauty of Ingram’s beloved cherries, but one that
resounds with humanity and the desire by good,honest people to preserve what matters most to them.
The book quickly presents a compelling image of
Ingram, a picture-perfect archetype of the Edwardian
gentleman-at-leisure if ever there was one. Detailing
his privileged upbringing and illustrious family
Latest reviews: www.japansociety.org.uk/resources/reviews/

5

to the language that elevates this above and beyond
a simple factual account of Ingram’s life. And for whenwords fail, an added surprise is the book’s ample
collection of archive sketches, hand-drawn by Ingram
himself – a man of many talents, indeed!
From enthused amateur to elder-statesmanlike expert, Ingram’s passion for the cherry tree anda trainspotter-like obsession to cataloguing andcollecting new varieties is palpable. The book recalls
countless memorable escapades – chief among them
Ingram’s efforts to restore the ‘great white’ taihaku
variant to Japan. Following four years of failed efforts
to send a sample cut from his garden back to Japan,
he finally hit on a solution – wedging the tender scions
into potatoes and sending them via the Trans-Siberian
Railway; ensuring they arrived quickly enough andmoist enough to avoid the perils of withering en-route.
Ingram’s own words, recorded meticulously in hisdiary entries, resound with an earnest poeticism andself-evident love of natural beauty. The effect is rather
like bathing deeply in successive washes of the titularcherry blossoms, each new colour gradation lapping
gently at your senses. This is a book for nature lovers
through and through, and you will come away feelinglike you’ve been given a crash course in horticulture –something we imagine Ingram himself – whose 1948
tome Ornamental Cherries became an instant classic– would very much approve of.
Going beyond Ingram’s own life, the real heartof the book rests in its counterposing of the glorious
idylls of the British countryside in the late 19th andearly 20th century with the horrors of war and theresulting loss of a somehow simpler age of innocence.
For both Britain and Japan, it seemed, the old way of
doing things – of engaging with and cherishing thewild as opposed to smoothing it off and homogenising
it – was doomed to die a slow death in the face ofmodernity; all the more so when these images ofidealised pasts were mutated and co-opted into grossvisions of nationalism. The pain-staking detail given to
the horrors faced by British Prisoners of War, as wellas the final fleeting moments of Japanese kamikaze
pilots, are almost too much to bear. And yet, they feelsymbolic, not only for presenting a snapshot of thetangled, complex relationship between Britain andJapan before and after World War Two, but also for
how Ingram had to confront his own feelings for Japan.
By using Ingram’s life as an ‘in’ to the thornier moral
complexities of history, readers are guided throughthe material with a sensitive, yet unflinching hand.
For those new to the history of Anglo-Japaneserelations and the symbolic significance of the cherrytree, there could be no better introduction than this.
Abe’s book is accessible in the extreme, and with
British appetites for all things Japanese whetted by
the forthcoming Tokyo 2020 Olympic and Paralympic
Games, now feels like the most opportune timing toplay to as wide as possible an audience with a booklike this. And for those who have already read countless
blow-by-blow replays of Japanese history from the
Meiji Restoration onwards, Abe’s own take makes fora lean refresher. The universality of Ingram’s story –and how it links into wider narratives about Britain andJapan – has clear appeal: the book was selected as aRadio 4 Book of the Week on its week of publication.
At once both a cracking story and a serious workof scholarly ambition, Naoko Abe’s account of Ingram’s
life succeeds through virtue of being more than simple
biography. It is a love letter to the joys that life canunveil when you find a passion and make it your own.§

Bridge to the Gods: Tales from
Kyushu. Memoirs of a Life in Far
South Japan

location of the city of Nagasaki with all of its none too
happy associations in both the Japanese and Westernmind; and for James Bond enthusiasts, Kyushu is also
known as the location of You Only Live Twice’s villain’s
base under Mount Shinmoe-dake volcano (an area
unfortunately closed to the public since 2011 due tovolcanic activity).
Southernmost of Japan’s larger islands Kyushu issomewhat distinct from the other regions which mostcasual visitors to Japan may have some familiarity withsuch as Honshu’s east central region of Kanto (aroundand including Greater Tokyo), and the south central
region of Kansai (around and including the cities ofOsaka and Kyoto). Japan’s largest island Honshu is

by Andrew Thomson
Ryan Publishing (2018)
ISBN-13: 978-1876498764
Review by Trevor Skingle
Whilst Kyushu isn’t exactly ‘neglected’ in terms of
the overall coverage of Japan, it may be that for thecasual visitor with only a general knowledge of thecountry it is more widely known for being the place
where Europeans first set foot in Japan and the6Issue 82 Volume 14 Number 4 (August 2019)

joined to Kyushu across the Kanmon Straits by a train
bridge, the Kanmon road bridge and tunnel, andthe Sanyo Shinkansen tunnel. All of them connect
Honshu’s Shimonoseki (famous for its place in Japanese
history as the place where the Minamoto (Genji) finally
defeated the Taira (Heike) at the battle of Dan-noura) with Kyushu’s fairly industrialised northern cityof Kitakyushu, so when travelling there by car or train,
the passage between Honshu and Kyushu is fairly
unremarkable.
To the collection of published, and generally
scholarly, books on Kyushu comes this welcome
addition of Andrew Thomson’s non-academic 2018
memoir, Bridge to the Gods. Andrew, son of theAustralian professional golfer Peter Thomson andformer Australian Federal Government Minister,
eventually settled in Kyushu where he set up his own
consultancy business and began exploring. This book
is a charming account of his personal contemporary
life there and his explorations of Kyushu’s culture,
cuisine, history and attractions.
For those unfamiliar with Japan and, in particular,
Kyushu’s location, there are a few handy maps. A
glossary of Japanese words has been placed unusually,in this case, at the beginning of the book which makes
for much easier referencing rather than, as is general,
hidden amongst the usual end of book reference andbibliographic pages of which, in this instance, there
are surprisingly none.
The account begins, or perhaps ‘kicks off’ might bea more apt phrase, in Tokyo with Andrew’s experienceof the 2011 Tohoku earthquake as it affected him
and his colleagues in an office in the city. As thebook progresses it unveils Kyushu in a way which isvery accessible and charmingly personable. With hisfamily connections there (his wife is from Kyushu), thisaccount of Andrew’s wide ranging explorations on his
Kawasaki 900cc Vulcan Classic motorbike opens up
the island, its locations and its culture to the armchairvisitor in a way that other more studious books do not.
It’s also nice to see photos mixed in with the text
in contextually appropriate places helping to place
the images in relation to the situation being discussed
rather than concentrated collectively in one or two
locations elsewhere in the book.
Each chapter is concise yet contains enoughexplanatory narrative to satisfy without going into
so much academic detail to make it less accessible.
Often Andrew relates what he has been told or
has seen without comment, leaving the reader toponder on meaning and interpretation which, when
Latest reviews: www.japansociety.org.uk/resources/reviews/

combined with Andrew’s personable style, makes
for a thoroughly engaging read. The book is full of
enough interesting places and curious charactersto satisfy, not least of which are his characterful inlaws. Occasionally Andrew ponders a subject andthen provides explanations which, based on personal
conjecture, ignore the received wisdom of theJapanese. For instance, that sumo may have entered
Japan from Mongolia via Kyushu rather than it having
been initiated by Nomi no Sukune (an ancestor of the
Heian politician Sugawara no Michizane) in 23BC after
the defeat and killing of Taima no Kehaya in hand tohand combat at the behest of Emperor Suinin.
Perhaps one of the most interesting chapters,
but the one with the most ominous feel, is that about
the Yakuza which Kyushu apparently has more ofthan anywhere else in Japan. Andrew is very explicit,
disabusing readers of any notion of the Yakuza being
the Japanese equivalent of Robin Hood, about naming
names and the criminal acts that they have carriedout, and even going so far as to make a brief visit,
driving past one of the three Kyushu Yakuza gang’s
headquarters!
Compared to this and the ‘not-for-the-fainthearted’ account of a bare handed wild boar hunt, mostof the other chapters, whilst just as interesting, are lessdisquieting. Andrew’s explorations range across othervaried topics such as outdoor baths or rotenburo,
Japanese Christianity, the first tea and rice in Japan,
horse meat cuisine, the kamikaze pilots, the search forthe island where James Bond disguised himself as aJapanese fisherman and for the woman who played
the character Kissy Suzuki in the James Bond film You
Only Live Twice; the connection with Saigo Takamori,as well as Andrew’s involvement with the care of his
increasingly ailing in-laws and preparations for thearrival of North Korean missiles, are also explored,
all whilst navigating frustratingly obfuscating yetpleasantly polite conversations with the locals.
As each chapter doesn’t go into too much detailthe book acts as more of an introduction to the many
attractions that Kyushu has to offer, enough to dip
your toe and whet your appetite. Andrew’s charming
writing style is eminently accessible and makes for an
addictive read. However, the book isn’t cheap and ataround £30 for the paperback and around £40 for the
hardback it is unlikely to be a spur-of-the-moment
purchase. However, for those with an interest in orplanning on exploring an area of Japan least visited byforeigners it is certainly a worthwhile investment.§
7

Scored in Silence
directed and performed by Chisato Minamimura
Ovalhouse – South London’s Theatre (20-21 July
2019)
Review by Alice Baldock

How should we tell stories that matter?
It is a question I’m forced to ask after leaving theOvalhouse, out of its cool interior and onto the burningasphalt, the weather a mixture of hazy sunlight and hot
blasts of wind. The inside of a performance space canbe a way to take you in, strip away all the tints on our
knowing, and teach us something new. Moving fromthat self-contained space and back into our tinted
world, I was left asking if this was a way we can teachand remember.
Because Scored in Silence was a mixture of
performance, lecture, history lesson, and an experimentwith new technology. The audience – strictly limited
to 40 people – are sat down and then given an
induction into the various straps and wires attachedto each chair. The audience glance at each othernervously, a little as if they were about to strap into aflight. It is called 40 Woojer © vibration technology, abelt that vibrates synchronically with the movements,
and with certain sounds, made by Artistic Director
and Performer Chisato Minamimura. It adds depth tothe piece, marrying movement, sound, and vibration
together to truly jolt and shock and surprise, but it also
makes the piece incredibly accessible, so that thosethat cannot hear can also feel the emphasis of certain
points of the piece.
This technology augments Scored in Silence,an original telling of the bombing of Hiroshima that
disengages from the trans-historical and makes thisevent more human, more tangible. There is an obvious
personal plea behind why Minamimura has chosen
this topic. Her frequent reminders that ‘people likeme’ suffered in a specific way, a way that has been
overlooked for decades. Her constant ties between
these past sufferers and her present, moving bodyremind us that these historical actors are not merely
ghosts. They once were embodied too, and they once
suffered in a very human way. Minamimura talks of theatomic bombing using tiny anecdotes, kaleidoscoping
together to produce a story refracted through many
perspectives. At times, these stories were told by
Minamimura’s movement, or a mixture of movement
and sign language. At others, there were holograms
projected an image of a victim, speaking for themselves.
The use of holograms, and the clipped, accent-devoid
male voice speaking over the performance, took the
feeling from being on a flight to a space flight – a jump

Image by Mark Pickthall

into the future, even as we were, collectively, looking
back. The videos and images were an inspired way
to add specific detail to dance, a performance-typewhich sometimes needs transcription or description
for audiences to make sense of it.
Despite this, Minamimura’s movements werestrong enough to have conveyed meaning on theirown. Her body, mostly hidden beneath somethingloose-fitting and white, functioned to convey
information. Her movements echoed this, each onestrong and precise, often amplifying the sign language
she was speaking with whilst she danced. Her timing
was impeccable, something that would have been nomean feat when having to match it to the audience’s
vibrating belts. She danced half-lit, casting 4 evenly
sized shadows up towards the ceiling. Even her
shadows appeared well thought-through.
What the movements, lighting, and soundcombined to do was to talk about forgotten
experiences, shedding light on a part of history – thedeaf experience of the Hiroshima bombing – has yet
been able to tell. The only qualm I had here is that it isalmost impossible to talk or dance about such a fragile
piece of history without allowing your own viewpoint
to drive it. Another audience member pointed out tome – something that I’d overlooked whilst absorbed
in the performance – that it isn’t enough to start with
Hiroshima, that perhaps there could have been somemore consideration around why it was dropped.
Nonetheless, the fact that dance and movement
can be used to fill in a gap in our history gives us
another reason that the arts continue to be relevant:they can help us tell important stories. This way ofcommunicating – forcing the audience’s attention
to focus on what is in front of them, flushing all of
one’s senses with that information – is a way to makestorytelling, not only of pure fiction but also of history– more compelling. This is a new way of remembering,
and a way to remember buried pasts.§