Mishima e i viaggi in giro per il mondo, dagli Stati Uniti all’Europa, da quella New York che gli faceva un po’ paura (e che definì, suggestivamente, “Tokyo tra cinquecento anni”) al salotto dei baroni Rotschild a Parigi, dalle conferenze alla Michigan University alla Grecia, dove s’innamorò “del limpido cielo della culla del classicismo”. E infine, Mishima e la morte: forza oscura che sullo scrittore esercitò, fin dall’infanzia, un fascino invincibile, specialmente nella forma più tradizionale e truculenta - quella del suicidio rituale tramite seppuku (l’autosventramento, che in Italia spesso viene indicato impropriamente con il termine “harakiri”). Tanto è vero che Mishima mise in scena molte volte il seppuku nei suoi lavori letterari: e un’ultima volta nella vita reale, su se stesso, quando si suicidò.
Il libro condensa, in oltre quattrocento pagine, la vita e l’arte di Mishima, in un continuo intersecarsi di aneddoti biografici e citazioni dai romanzi. Per trovare quel che lo scrittore ha nascosto di sè nelle pagine dei suoi libri: “Dietro la maschera del samurai“, riflette Stokes, “Mishima sarà sempre un uomo emotivo e vulnerabile. Sensibilissimo a ogni minima offesa e nel contempo all’influenza altrui, invocava amore pur essendo apparentemente incapace di amare”.

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Sex Fist -- replacing Team Brick at the last minute, this improv group was just that, with the attendant ups and downs that can happen in situations like that, but at its best turned out quite well. Joe Turner, most of Thought Forms, Jon from the Lothars and a few other folks who are not sitting in my memory at present jammed away on this, that and the other, from free-floating haze to driving attacks and back again. Started out the day rather well.

Rob Sharples -- I admit, this set wasn't one for me -- fairly straightforward singer/songwriter stuff that was accomplished but not entirely my thing. After a bit I snuck over to the third stage to catch what turned out to be the end of R. Keenan Lawlor's set -- wish I had seen more! But most of it was during Sex Fist so what can you do?

Thee American Revolution -- RAWK. Okay, this one turned out to be a treat -- a couple of days beforehand Chris B. and I had randomly made the acquaintance of Robert Schneider of Apples in Stereo, and a more friendly and upbeat fellow I've rarely had the chance of meeting. Through him I met his lovely wife Marnie (I hope I have that right!), her brother Craig (again, hope I have that right!) and his wife in turn. All of them plus a couple of others made up Thee American Revolution, Rob's new band. A fine combination of sensibilities, sartorially and sonically, brought together Rob's ear for tunes with full-on end-of-sixties biker-freak-flag-rock and scored a bulls-eye. Very stylish, very fun! Looking forward to hearing the album.

The Kentucky Watercolor Society -- this third stage performance by this hitherto unknown act was, in fact, Windy from Windy and Carl doing what I gather was a solo debut. Her new album I Hate People is quite wonderful, BTW, and this short but fascinating performance -- Windy, two guitars, a lot of amplifiers and obsessive focus -- was well-attended and received, bringing out the edge of that solo album in a slightly different form. Definitely NOT a typical Windy and Carl sound, for sure.

Insect Factory -- happily I was able to catch most of this (no photos, though!) and while my impressions of it are not as clear as they should be, massive feedback sculptures and entrancing zone and more all made it catnip for everyone. Need to investigate more! Mike Tamburo, who had been doing a wonderful journeyman's job on the third stage on his own and with others all weekend, popped in to help on dulcimer on the final number and it was a wonderful combination.

Pelt -- after a delay in Simply Saucer's set due to the rain, Pelt settled in for what we all expected would be a heck of a show. This understates. An AMAZING set which rivals their exquisite Terrastock 2 show from ten years back, equally dedicated to performing one long extensive performance centered around gongs at the start and finish and various accordion/antique squeezeboxes for the extended midsection, not to mention violin, sitar (I think) and a variety of other instruments. A massive rhythmic drone piece that intertwined, expanded, and settled in indescribable fashion. The highlight of the day up to that point, rapturously received.

Simply Saucer -- thanks to the way the schedule worked as well as the weather, Simply Saucer were able to reappear and complete their set. I admit I only dipped in and out of this, but you could see that the band were loving life nicely and there was exuberance a-plenty. I ended up ducking in to see the MV+EE-led jam on the third stage, quite honestly the best thing I've yet heard from them! (EDIT -- that's the photo above.)

Jack Rose and the Black Twig Pickers -- the proximity of the Jack Rose set to the Pelt one led to natural assumptions that Jack would be sitting in with Pelt but such was not the case; however, two of Pelt are said Pickers, so there you go. Very much a spirited bluegrass-folk set straight up, with Rose's guitar work and the fiddling (and fiddlesticks!) of the others, not to mention the singing, a lovely combination and good contrast to the sonic reach of the Pelt set.

The Entrance Band -- now this I admit I skipped a bit (EDIT -- thus, no photo). Last year I saw the Entrance Band at an Arthur benefit and I enjoyed it well enough but wasn't fully sold, but it was clear that the group's messiah/rock guru/sixties-into-seventies approach was going to fit in perfectly for a festival where bands like Plastic Crimewave and Thee American Revolution had already made a mark. And it did, but I spent my time making some initial goodbyes since I knew the rest of the night was going to be full as heck. And was it ever.

Windy and Carl -- well, what to say. I consider them friends of long standing now, and that could account for some personal bias. But to my mind, it's not bias -- they're just THAT good. And in combination with Christy Romanick's lovely visuals, which led to me taking heaven knows how many photographs from my position up front, the result was a festival highlight. Playing individual songs rather than a full extended piece as they've recently done at Terrastocks, thus previewing the new album a bit, it was one serene and sublime song after another, underscoring huge depths every step of the way. The concluding song "Champion," with its extended ending comparable to Windy's solo album's focused aggression, knocked everyone for a further loop. All that and I was briefly namechecked on the stage, even if only as a reference to an in-joke! It was a pleasure and a privilege regardless.

Paik -- I almost can't say anything. I was chatting with the dudes a bit beforehand -- my MBV shirt was the cause for a bit of conversation, we'd all seen the tours back in 1992 -- and past experience taught me that it would be the loudest set of the day by a long shot, as well as the thickest-sounding and one of the most beautiful sounding. It was all that and more. Lights, fog machine, Ryan on drums looking possessed...where to start, where to end! At one point I leaned over to Jesse from Tanakh and said "It's the Motorhead principle -- everything louder than everything else." And yet it still wasn't the loudest set of the day -- that honor went to...

Makoto Kawabata -- six years back Acid Mothers Temple had concluded an insanely memorable final day at Terrastock 5 with a monster of a set and this time around Kawabata did that same thing solo. But anybody who thought this would be a gentle comedown from Paik was rapidly disabused -- this included me. Having guested on many sets throughout the weekend, Kawabata wrapped it all up on his own, with two main parts to his performance: a solo guitar piece that became a near Stravinsky-like composition (I almost can't describe it any other way) that then led into the second part in a quick two second change, "Pink Lady Lemonade." This piece is one of the core parts of nearly every Acid Mothers Temple show, but on the solo front he rapidly turned the gentle core melody into a blistering, near-literally ear-piercing cascade of noise, feedback and further distortion that had a number of people seeking the best possible listening position by going outside and leaning against the wall. As Chris said to me after the set, "That one separated the living from the dead." And as Phil McMullen said when he took the stage after the set to wrap everything up, "How can you follow that?"

You really couldn't. And what a way to end.

mir gefällt's und ich fühle mich dabei 20 jahre jünger. und das kann ich jetzt grad etwas gebrauchen. denn gestern war ich kurz im "der klub" an der langstrasse. das ist im "das haus" unter "die bar" gelegen und diagonal versetzt vom "der laden". claude, "der geschäftsführer" meinte, es sei dies genau mein klub. denn die anvisierte zielgruppe sei von 30 bis 50 jahren!(!!!)

es ist schon hart, sowas zu hören. erschreckend auch, weil mir "der klub" vom ambiente her doch noch irgendwie gefallen hat. es hat was von einem alt-herren smokersclub meets jazzkeller. das die lounge "ecke" von der quadratmeter-anzahl her mindestens 8 mal grösser ist als die tanzfläche, lässt für mein bevorstehendes alter schlimmes befürchten. ich seh mich schon in der altenglischen couch lümmeln, den charas in einer ausgehöhlten cohiba schmauchend (auch den betagten senioren wird wohl das offensichtliche kiffen in den clubs untersagt werden...), und sabbernd den jungen gazellen nachschauend. hmm, eigentlich mache ich ja jetzt schon dasselbe...

aber, sabbern? ich muss nächstes mal unbedingt einen kleinen taschenspiegel zur kontrolle mitnehmen...

download: summer fling by lexx
(left klick = hear - right klick = download)
lexx - kawabata on myspace..
webpage lexx
drumpet community on myspace..
webpage permanent vacation

fragen und antworten: lexx - kawabata

- wer bist du?
lexx, 36 jahre alt, dj, musiker und leidenschaftler, wohne in zürich.

- wann und wieso bist du mit elektronischer musik in kontakt gekommen?
c.a. 1983 hörte ich zum ersten mal depeche mode, ein bischen später zeigte mir ein damaliger freund "computer welt" von kraftwerk.

- deine definition von house?
house is a feeling, disco ist die mutter und funk der vater.. oder so ähnlich ;)

- wann hörst du am liebsten ruhige musik?
oft, und immer wenn mir danach ist.

und paco, halte uns doch bitte auf dem laufenden was mit dem fräulein an der kasse läuft ..hehe

Como cabeza de familia, a Osaga Shingo le preocupa la decadencia moral de sus descendientes. Su hijo Shuichi, a quien la guerra ha helado el corazón, está casado con la maravillosa Kikuko, pero le es infiel y tiene un hijo con otra mujer; por otro lado, Fusako vuelve a la casa paterna con sus dos hijos tras haberse divorciado de un marido drogadicto. Tanto Shuichi como Fusako creen que su padre es demasiado viejo e interpretan sus silencios como senilidad.

Llevo un tiempo viendo películas muy seleccionadas, y así me voy a dormir pensando que hay pocas cosas que me sorprendan tanto como el cine. Y dentro de esas maravillosas sorpresas, en posición muy destacada, está François Truffaut. Le debo a Jon el descubrimiento, y le estaré eternamente agradecido. Me quedan muchas películas que disfrutar del genio francés (ya le he pedido a Jon que me deje el estuche con la filmografía completa), pero lo que he podido ver hasta ahora me ha embrujado para siempre. Aparte de inspirarme algún que otro relato, Truffaut produce en mí una sensación extraña, entre onírica y real, que me hace revolverme en el sofá con cada nuevo plano. No he visto rostros que expresen tanto como los que aparecen en sus cintas; en ocasiones, ya cerca del éxtasis, pienso que algunos de esos trabajados gestos los están haciendo sólo para que yo los contemple. Jules et Jim, Farenheit 451, La mujer de al lado, Los cuatrocientos golpes, La noche americana... Auténticas obras maestras del cine, verdaderas joyas, de imprescindible visionado para cualquier persona que tenga un mínimo de sensibilidad.

He sufrido un descenso (más allá de lo deseable) en la concentración necesaria para leer buenos libros, y me he propuesto hacer un esfuerzo para compatibilizar la instintiva tarea que ocupa, en estos tiempos, buena parte de mi cerebro, con la saludable dedicación a la lectura. Me engaño a mí mismo, y antes de dormir devoro algunos de Las historias en la palma de la mano, de Yasunari Kawabata, ciento cuarenta y seis relatos muy breves que no requieren, en pequeñas dosis claro, una entrega excesiva. El escritor japonés comparte espacio en la mesita con uno de los pocos escritores patrios de la actualidad que me interesan: Rafael Chirbes, y su Crematorio, una magnífica guía para tratar de entender estos últimos años de corrupción política y urbanística, negocios sucios y grandes enriquecimientos ilícitos, que han dado como resultado, entre otras tristes cosas, depredación de la costa (y lo que no es la costa) en nuestro país. Para completar el abanico literario, esta semana me acompaña de aquí para allá El lobo estepario, del alemán Herman Hesse (influencia de mein Schwester). Un libro extraordinario, digno de su autor, pero que necesita dedicación casi absoluta. Cada una de las líneas tiene vida propia, la de Harry Haller, la del autor, la de su permanente crisis espiritual...

¡Y qué mayor placer que unas buenas vacaciones! Las mías ya están reservadas. Me espera, cuando llegue de una vez el verano, un precioso piso en el centro de Cádiz, justo al lado de la Plaza de las Flores, y a un minuto del Campo del Sur. Perderme en las callejuelas del Pópulo, descansar en la Caleta, comprar verduras en el mercado de la Plaza de la Libertad, comer pescadito frito en la Viña, cruzar la bahía en el vapor... No quiero pensarlo mucho, porque tengo tantas ganas que se me van a empezar a salir por los huecos de la camisa, y a ver cómo lo explico. 

Dos de ellos, Un pueblo llamado Yumiura y El crisantemo en la roca, fueron incluidos posteriormente en una antología de sus cuentos favoritos que se publicó poco después de que recibiera el Premio Nobel de Literatura en 1968.

Los relatos que presentamos son a la vez una ventana al muy específico mundo doméstico de la posguerra japonesa y una reflexión, destilada al máximo, sobre los sentimientos y las contradicciones humanas, sobre el ser y la memoria, sobre las incógnitas de la belleza y del silencio.

Kawabata from Team Toyo won the first round in his blue S15

Kazuyoshi Okachan from Yashio factory wasn't so lucky, he crashed his S15 into the wall. He was together with Kuniaki Takahashi who drives a JZX100 in a Tsuiso drift. In front off the wall his wheels locked en he went hard agaisns the wall.

Here you can see Ken Nomura and his ER34 up close and personal. The car has the new bodykit from Uras together with the new Blitz Racing Wheels. The cars output is now 520hp. With his new setup he became second.

Third place went to Kazuhiro Tanaka from Team Orange, he drove the GDB Impreza

Here you can see the track layout from above. I have painted the way they drift trough the corners

Vai um vídeozinho dessa dupla que eu conheci logo quando cheguei no arquipélago. Kawabata-tchan tá muito gatinho aqui, meu favorito!!! =)

Their relationship was first reported in October 2001. Years later, Kawabata bought an apartment in Kanagawa near Anzai's parents' house, and the two began living together. Things appeared to be going well, leading the media to speculate about an eventual wedding.

Trouble apparently began around the start of this year, though details are still unclear. Anzai's management said they knew nothing in particular about the breakup, since she had already left the company. One source, who reportedly knows Kawabata well, explained that the split seems to have resulted from Kawabata's desire to devote himself more to his music.

Credits: TokyoGraph

Ces histoires d'amour étranges et fascinantes sont écrites d'une plume tranquille et égale et qui par là même nous trouble. C'est une lecture délicieuse. Kawabata est le maître du détachement élégant. Ses personnages ne souffrent pas lorsqu'on se figure qu'ils le devraient, et l'on est tenté de reculer d'u pas, mais on est vite ramené dans l'histoire. Au coeur e l'écriture de Kawabata on trouve un profond pessimisme quant à la valeur de la vie elle-même, et ce même lorsque les protagonistes sont le jouet d'obsessions secrètes. Fascination donc, admirablement écrit et obsédant.

How to you talk about adultery, incest, and betrayal and tea ceremonies among characters who make repression an art form?

With patience and compassion.