artists – Page 3 – 52 Suburbs

Oops.

I had planned to show you a younger face of Tokyo this week but ended up yet again being totally seduced by the old. I just meant to pop my head into Kagurazaka, a neighbourhood on the edge of Shinjuku, because a blog follower who’d lived there said it had “old, cobbled lanes running off of the high street and is one of the remaining areas in the centre of the city that you can still navigate using an Edo-era map” (thanks Laura B!).

Five minutes and then we’d be out of there. Ha. No such luck. Like a moth to a flame I was drawn in once more by those who float down the street, hair upswept, torsos bound and feet sheathed in white.

Ya. Kimonos. I cannot resist them, especially when they’re gliding around an older neighbourhood like Kagurazaka.

I was also sucked in by some beautiful wagashi – Japanese sweets – and the chance of spying geisha (they still frequent the area).

Some background: Kagurazaka is one of the few areas that wasn’t bombed in WWII. We’re talking Tokyo so that doesn’t mean they kept all the old stuff. But there’s more of it than in your average neighbourhood, as well as a cluster of very atmospheric cobbled lanes that Laura had mentioned. There’s also a distinct French presence with lots of little French eateries and, bizarrely, French music being piped down the main street.

Now glide…

Part 1: Kimonos in Kagurazaka

I’ve given a lot of thought as to why I’m so taken with the whole kimono look, more so than say with the Indian sari. I think it’s because while saris are extremely beautiful they’re part of the 21st century, still worn by millions of women on the Indian subcontinent as an everyday garment. The kimono on the other hand is a glimpse into the past – most modern Japanese women don’t wear one, and if they do, it’s usually for a special occasion only.

Which is why I love meeting those for whom it’s a passion. Like Emiko, a kimono hobbyist, and Kazuko, a kimono teacher, in the images below. Visit any city in the First World and really, we all look pretty much the same. But not these women. They’re committed to the process of assembling the 12 or more pieces that are required to put together a typical kimono outfit, mixing and matching the various bits in such a way that’s pleasing to their eye and reflective of their personality, and then securing them in the same way Japanese women have been doing so for centuries. One quick glance at an obi and you can tell – there’s no zipper there.

The other reason I’m so drawn to them is because most of them are such beautiful prints. They are moving artworks that literally dress up and enhance what can often be a fairly uninspiring urban landscape – even in Kagurazaka, where there are more old interesting buildings than usual as well as some appealing modern ones.

Anyway, I hope that explains why it’s week four in Tokyo and I’m still photographing kimonos – and as much as I’m trying to limit myself, may continue to do so until the day we say, see ya’ Tokyo.

straight lines - Emiko in her mother's kimono

“it’s my hobby” – Emiko in her mother’s kimono

salmon pink

squeezing nature in wherever possible :: 1

squeezing nature in wherever possible :: 2

ideal for winding your way to the mountains

patterns a plenty – Hatue

infinite variety

We ran into Emiko and her friend, Yasuko, again at the end of the main road in Kagurazaka where modern Tokyo takes over once more. I loved watching their ancient shapes disappear into the crush of any-city garb.

ancient in the modern :: 1

ancient in the modern :: 2

No sooner had they left than another group of kimonos turned up, with Kazuko, a kimono teacher, leading the charge.

Kazuko, kimono teacher

a work of art

my assistant – Coco explaining the project

fans

As beautiful as Kazuko’s kimono was, it was the end of another exhausting day – time to do battle in the subway.

day fades quickly into night in the Japanese autumn

rush hour on Tokyo subway

The Japanese are expert at napping on the subway – Coco, absolutely tuckered out by a day of chasing kimonos in Kagurazaka, joined them.

turning Japanese

Part 2: Coco in kimono

You know how in each city we do a little shoot with Coco dressed in something appropriate? Well, a kimono was the obvious choice for Tokyo but rather than do the whole kid-kimono thing, she wanted a kimono with a twist. So we bought a AUD$10 (cheap!) adult kimono jacket, stripy socks and added pink blush under her eyes, a look you see a fair bit around Tokyo.

Took a few shots of her down a lane – and then ducked up to the temple on the main road where there happened to be some sort of matsuri (festival) going on, to hand out our own offering…

half and half

with the temple dudes

mini kimono ladies

would you like one? :: 1

would you like one? :: 2

would your dog like one?

what about you, would you like one?

Part 3: Sweet things

After the temple, we went and visited Hisae whom we’d met the first day we arrived in the neighbourhood at her shop, Baikatei, to admire her beautiful sweets once more.

sweet – Hisae outside the 80 year old shop she’s had for 45 years

Hisae explained that what makes her sweets so special is the type of sugar they use and the way they process the beans that go inside the sweets. That and the skill of her main man, who makes hundreds of tiny, edible artworks every day…

from this…

…to this – Camellia Princess

I wanted to photograph some of his creations on something that was equally special. So we bought a few and wandered through the back streets of Kagurazaka to find another shop we’d spied earlier that had beautiful hand-made plates amongst other things.

Now, I’m not easily impressed and I’m not much a retail queen, but if I had the moola, I would buy every single item at La Ronde D’Argile. And I’d like to live in the building too, a tiny old house with tatami mats and the most wonderful feeling.

I don’t think the shop’s owner knew quite what to make of us – a kid in a kimono jacket and me, carrying a tray of Japanese sweets, pointing wildly at her plates – ‘Can I please take your plates outside and photograph these sweets on them?’

anyone for a Camellia Princess?:: 1

anyone for a Camellia Princess?:: 2

snowmen and Santa :: 1

snowmen and Santa :: 2

After I’d finished snapping the sweets, I couldn’t help taking a few shots of the shop’s interior. Actually, I think it was partly that we just didn’t want to leave. Coco made herself at home on the tatmi mats, drawing and playing a game of rock, paper, scissor in Japanese with a new found friend, while I floated around, uplifted by the tiny house’s good energy.

the work of ‘up and coming Japanese artists’

a customer scrutinises the wares

while Coco plays with her new friend

The only feature of the place I wasn’t fond of was the staircase. Vertiginous in a word.

scary steep stairs

drat it, I didn’t write down her name – but she’s the owner

At some point while playing inside, Coco remembered we’d brought chopsticks to put in her hair and stuck them in. She had the kimono, the napping on trains, the playing rock, paper, scissor in Japanese and the chopsticks. All she needed now was…

doing the peace sign thing – the transformation is complete

I do not know why all Japanese – aside from the kimono women – do the peace sign thing when being photographed. But they do. And now Coco does too.

As we were leaving the neighbourhood for the last time, we ran into Hatue again, an older lady we’d met on a rainy, cold day during the week. Hatue was always in a rush and looked slightly peeved that I was taking up her time. But this time Coco, enlivened by her new Japanese-ness, launched herself at Hatue and gave her an enormous hug. Suddenly Hatue wasn’t in a hurry anymore.

hugging Hatue

The Wrap

I loved all the kimonos of course but what about Kagurazaka itself? Well, it was probably the most manicured, upmarket neighbourhood we’d explored so far and at one point I wondered if the people that lived or hung out there were less open, more remote. But a kid in a kimono, a tray of tiny biscuits and a hug were all it took to bring out the best in the Kagurazaka-ites.

As for the built environment, amongst the usual Tokyo low rise there were those few lovely old lanes, some sweet older houses and a few more modern numbers with nice clean lines. And like all of Tokyo – at least the bits we’ve seen – there were no hovels nor no mansions, and no pavements (I get it – not enough space for pavements – but it always surprises me.)

And the French thing? Distracted by all things Japanese, I didn’t pay much attention to it. But that piped muzak, it’s really gotta go.

French? un petit peu

On the ‘home front’

Coco’s had a ball this week. Dressing up, meeting new people, playing new games. She’s loved it. And that kimono jacket, well, it hasn’t left her side…

it’s amazing what you can hide in your kimono sleeves :: 1

it’s amazing what you can hide in your kimono sleeves :: 2

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This suburb has been brought to you by Andrew Leslie

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See you next week.

Late, late, late.

But I have good reason. Namely, trying to map out the next four months of travel – lots of ‘what, five hours of daylight only, no way, can’t go there’ or ‘it’s too hot/cold/expensive’ – then booking flights, accommodation, blah blah blah – while simultaneously trying to explore and photograph ‘Suburb’ No 35.

Hence why the latter is a little thin on the ground for my liking. But the good news is, I finally settled on where we’re all headed next.

Before we get to that, let’s take a wander through our last NY neighbourhood, Red Hook. A fascinating little pocket of NY that feels remote, like a fishing village kind of, but a fishing village that has a huge IKEA and a water taxi that’ll get you to Manhattan in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.

Some facts and history… Settled in 1636 and named by the Dutch for the red clay soil and the fact it’s a point (in Dutch, ‘Hoek’) of land jutting out into the sea. A thriving maritime hub until the 1950s when its waterfront industry went into decline – as did the neighbourhood. The low point was in the 70s and 80s – crack and crime, centered around the projects (public housing estate) in the south-east of the neighbourhood. Mid-1990s, artists started to move in, attracted by the industrial spaces, followed by IKEA and supermarket, Fairway. One part of Red Hook is gradually gentrifying – near the water, down the main street – but there’s still plenty of lonely, vacant lots and the majority of Red Hook residents still live in the very un-gentrified projects, the second largest in NY.

For the last time in NYC…

Part 1: First visit

I suspect we had the same first reaction to Red Hook as most day trippers – nice old working waterfront but is that it? And where is everyone?

Because unlike everywhere else we’ve been in NY, Red Hook is super quiet, with few people wandering around and lots of empty spaces. Wild west meets isolated fishing village. Tumbleweed territory.

It all made sense when I later learned that Red Hook’s population withered after the 1950s and is now half what it was then, at just 11,000. And most of those 11,000 live in the projects, away from the waterfront.

Which means that the population density of the gentrified bits – the nice old rowhouses and the industrial spaces – must be incredibly low. Why? For a start, Red Hook is hard to get to – there’s a water taxi from Manhattan but no subway and just one bus. It also ain’t cheap – humble looking homes sell for a million plus – yet aside from IKEA and Fairway, there’s hardly any local services.

As a result, it felt like Coco and I had the place to ourselves for most of the time. Especially on our first visit, when the skies turned black and there were even fewer people on the streets than usual…

mind the gap – you take the water taxi not the subway

arriving under a leaden sky

Coco mid-drench

and then the sun shone again

Part 2: Filled with textures not people

Without many people around to distract one’s eye, it was easy to appreciate Red Hook’s many textures and layers.

surrounded by water

Belgian Block paving stones struggle against asphalt

old-timers – the Wagoneer on the Belgian Blocks

wild west of the east :: 1

wild west of the east :: 2

weathered

industrial chic :: 1- W.Beard, former storage warehouses

industrial chic :: 2

Red Hook wasn’t always so hard to get to – old trams

in Red Hook there’s room to spread your wings

thirsty?

Part 3: People!

Not that we met many of them but from what I could gather the community in Red Hook – at least in the gentrifying area – is tight-knit; as someone said, “we all know each other, which is good – and bad”.

Although the area is known for its artist community, there are people here from all walks of life – we met a real estate agent, someone who worked in the cafe and an architect. But as different as they may seem, they’re all “independent” and not your norm. As one article about the neighbourhood said, “Red Hook isn’t for everyone”.

baked at Baked – Joanna

the wild women of Red Hook – Liz

We met German architect Thomas, below, picking up his bike from the local bike shop – and then proceeded to run into him twice again over the next few days. On one of our encounters he showed us around his most recent job, a refashioned three level building, with a retail shop on the bottom, two floors of living and a rooftop terrace. Just sold for close to two million.

architect Thomas, standing atop his creation

side-view – love those stars

The next time we ran into Thomas he was walking his dog down by the waterfront, surrounded by wonderful old warehouses, re-purposed but mercifully intact. He reminded me that a former police detective, Greg O’Connell, owned four of these waterfront buildings, including an old coffee warehouse that houses Fairway (and Michelle Williams who lives in the chic apartments above Fairway), and that he’d bought them from the city of NY for just half a million dollars way back when. That’s good detective work I reckon.

down by the waterfront – we meet again

Part 4: Art

While Thomas and Greg O’Connell might not mind Red Hook’s rising real estate star, there are plenty of artists in the neighbourhood who do. I met one who told me to buzz off – he didn’t want me contributing to the hype around Red Hook, liked the place as it was. Fair enough.

Another much friendlier one explained that he actually liked where Red Hook was at, a little gentrified but not too much; he’d arrived a decade ago when there was “nothing” but now the place was in a “sweet spot”.

We were having this chat at an art exhibition Thomas had told me about, inside a massive Civil War-era warehouse owned by artist Dustin Yellin. Yellin bought the 24,000-square-foot space this year for $3.7 million to create an “utopian art center”.

Whether or not that happens the warehouse is an amazing space for his unusual artworks. From a distance they look like objects held in suspension but they’re not. He applies paint and printed material to layers of resin or glass which, when stuck together, create three-dimensional forms.

layer upon layer – Dustin Yellin’s work :: 1

layer upon layer – Dustin Yellin’s work :: 2

front and side view

I didn’t stumble on any other artist’s studios but I did find some art on the streets…

lamp post love :: 1

lamp post love :: 2

Part 5: The projects

I would liked to have explored the other side of Red Hook – the public housing or projects as they call them here. But alas, all my travel planning sucked up so much time in the past 10 days it left little to do anything more.

Still, a few shots of the un-gentrified side of Red Hook…

showing no signs of gentrification – the projects and No 121

love in the projects :: 1

love in the projects :: 2

sure?

The image below is taken outside a public school that was renamed after its principal, Patrick Daly, who was killed in 1992 in the crossfire of a drug-related shooting while trying to find a student. It was around that time Time Magazine named Red Hook as one of the “worst” neighborhoods in the United States and as “the crack capital of America.” While things have obviously improved, I imagine life in the projects is a far cry from that of their neighbours.

‘love one another’ – mural outside the Patrick Daly school

Part 6: The shoot

You know how we always take a few pics of Coco in ‘traditional dress’ in each city we visit? Well, not sure if NY has a traditional costume so we went retro, appropriate given Red Hook’s old-worldly feel.

red in Red Hook :: 1

red in Red Hook :: 2

hope and anchor

The Wrap

Loved Red Hook, despite the fact I’m sure I missed a whole lot (apologies to any Red Hook residents). The feeling of space and freedom is pretty wonderful, and yet Brooklyn and Manhattan are just there on your doorstep should the need for, well, anything, arise. And three cheers for those who’ve fought to keep the waterfront out of the hands of developers – may it continue thus.

we’re heading off!

On the ‘home front’

Okay, so first to say, many thanks for the city suggestions last week. I want you to know I considered each and every one of them, carefully, taking into consideration the city, weather, cost etc.

So what should you pack for the last four months of your virtual journey? Well, you’re going to need something glam for… Los Angeles, something quirky for… Tokyo, and something colourful with an inbuilt bullet-proof vest for… Mexico City (just joking Joyce).

LA because it’s much maligned, Tokyo because I got a great deal on two return tickets from LA (and yeah, yeah it’s meant to be AMAZING) and Mexico City because I realised it’s a culture this project hasn’t touched on. (There will be another city too, at the very end, but that’s still TBD.)

I really hope you like the sound of all that. Do you?

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This suburb has been brought to you by Scott Falvey

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We leave for LA on Sunday or Monday so the first post will be a week later. See you then.

Kagurazaka

Red Hook

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