This weekend I read Donald Richie and Ben Simmons' new photo book, Tokyo: Megacity. The photography is beautiful and Richie's descriptions of each neighborhood are concise, insightful blurbs as good for seasoned Nipponophiles as for newcomers. The cover photograph shows the mid-town area at dusk, leading toward a glowing Tokyo Tower.
After I read through the book, I was reminded of several things. First, Tokyo is a city I only just visited last November, but I can easily see its charms. Tokyo represents a certain kind of urban life, not built according to careful urban planning (like Kyoto), but no less interesting for its seeming haphazardness. I remembered a professor in Nagasaki making the comment that Nagasaki's road structure seemed like an overturned plate of spaghetti, rather than a stately grid. However, I find much desirable about cities like these, which feel more chaotic and quirky. Tokyo has many different faces, so seeing a few neighborhoods is never enough to get a feel for the whole city. Tokyo will always call me back because it will always have new places to explore.
Second, I remembered how much I love city life. Maybe this is because I grew up in a farming village, but for me, a cityscape - preferably lit at night - is one of the most exciting sights possible. It never fails to make me feel good on a deep level. Even a photograph of a cityscape at night is an instant mood enhancer. Although my current home city is quite small, it has a few spots downtown where I can feel just a touch of urban life, and every time I see that a new building of greater than three floors is coming in, I immediately get excited. Not that the final products always warrant that excitement. (Ahem, Hotel Red.)
Third, Japan's charms for me are really varied. I know many people who like Japan for aspects of traditional culture - samurai, Zen Buddhism, martial arts. And I know as many who like it for certain aspects of modern youth culture - anime and manga, Gothic Lolitas, J-pop. I like some of these things some of the time, but I get more pleasure from enka music, dive bars, used bookstores, fishing towns, and dinner parties with friends. Whenever I get the itch to go back to Japan and explore more, these things take up at least as much - usually more - mental room in planning my trip.
Posts mainly about my two passions: archival work and the world of pulp literature. My blog is a sounding board for some of my ideas for modern archival practice, as well as a place for me to post links to things I find interesting.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Uncovering Television Treasures at the Archive
One of the joys of my work at the film archive is coming across rare commercial films and videos. I should clarify that some of the material I process is non-commercial in nature, and therefore it is obviously rare. A person's home movies tend to be one-of-a-kind. But sometimes I get a find in the entertainment industry that is a real treasure. I love making these available to the public and fantasizing about the fan treatments they can finally receive.
Last year, I found the complete run of a British thriller series called Strange Experiences. This program ran on the British channel ATV in the Midlands in the mid-1950s. Each episode ran approximately 5 minutes and told a creepy, mysterious, or otherwise uncanny story. Some of the best are downright terrifying, proof that a short story can pack a big wallop. In writing the finding aid for our copy I got in touch with a colleague at the BFI and learned that they have at least a partial--probably a full--run of the series. But I do not know of other sources that have it. As far as I know, the Wisconsin Center for Film and Theater Research is the only place in the US where this program can be seen.
Last summer, I also worked through the complete run of Spectreman, a Japanese superhero series from the 1970s. This was the precursor to more popular entries like Kamen Rider and Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers. The show apparently aired on American TV in the 1980s in a dubbed format, and now I can proudly say that our archive has every episode.
I continue to find rare gems on an almost regular basis. This is a source of no small amusement because, as an archivist, I am skeptical of the popular myth that "dusty archives shelves" are hiding all manner of hidden treasures. (I mean, sure, we have the Ark of the Covenant, but otherwise....) However, sometimes I feel like I almost weekly come across something truly amazing that deserves to been seen again, even if most of them appeal only to my cadre of like-minded nerds.
Last year, I found the complete run of a British thriller series called Strange Experiences. This program ran on the British channel ATV in the Midlands in the mid-1950s. Each episode ran approximately 5 minutes and told a creepy, mysterious, or otherwise uncanny story. Some of the best are downright terrifying, proof that a short story can pack a big wallop. In writing the finding aid for our copy I got in touch with a colleague at the BFI and learned that they have at least a partial--probably a full--run of the series. But I do not know of other sources that have it. As far as I know, the Wisconsin Center for Film and Theater Research is the only place in the US where this program can be seen.
Last summer, I also worked through the complete run of Spectreman, a Japanese superhero series from the 1970s. This was the precursor to more popular entries like Kamen Rider and Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers. The show apparently aired on American TV in the 1980s in a dubbed format, and now I can proudly say that our archive has every episode.
I continue to find rare gems on an almost regular basis. This is a source of no small amusement because, as an archivist, I am skeptical of the popular myth that "dusty archives shelves" are hiding all manner of hidden treasures. (I mean, sure, we have the Ark of the Covenant, but otherwise....) However, sometimes I feel like I almost weekly come across something truly amazing that deserves to been seen again, even if most of them appeal only to my cadre of like-minded nerds.
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Wisconsin Film Festival
With the coming of spring, I am getting ready for the Wisconsin Film Festival. This year the festival is from March 30 to April 3, and tickets are on sale now. I have been attending screenings for several years and volunteering for a couple. This year I am stepping up to a larger role as "theater captain," which will keep me busy throughout the festival.
You, however, should go to see movies! If you have never been before, the Wisconsin Film Festival brings a large number (this year, 209) short- and feature-length films to Madison, shown over 5 days. The festival screens films from around the world, with special attention to new filmmakers, local talent, and shorts. (I especially love the short film collections because so few of these films will ever see release theatrically or on DVD.) The festival shows films in a range of genres; everyone can find at least one film she is dying to see.
The festival is also a great local event. Each year it brings thousands of people to Madison, where they can catch a few movies, enjoy our art museums and parks, have a beer at the Memorial Union Terrace, or eat a great dinner and go shopping on State Street. I love spending a day downtown, watching movies and having coffee or getting Nepalese food in between.
I strongly encourage you to look at the schedule and consider coming to the Festival. This could be your only chance to see many of the movies listed, which should speak to any cinephile. The atmosphere is always great; movie fans love hanging out and chatting, whether in a restaurant after seeing a documentary or in line for the late-night horror show. Besides, this year's robot-themed logo is priceless, and you can grab a commemorative T-shirt while in town. And maybe you'll even bump into me!
You, however, should go to see movies! If you have never been before, the Wisconsin Film Festival brings a large number (this year, 209) short- and feature-length films to Madison, shown over 5 days. The festival screens films from around the world, with special attention to new filmmakers, local talent, and shorts. (I especially love the short film collections because so few of these films will ever see release theatrically or on DVD.) The festival shows films in a range of genres; everyone can find at least one film she is dying to see.
The festival is also a great local event. Each year it brings thousands of people to Madison, where they can catch a few movies, enjoy our art museums and parks, have a beer at the Memorial Union Terrace, or eat a great dinner and go shopping on State Street. I love spending a day downtown, watching movies and having coffee or getting Nepalese food in between.
I strongly encourage you to look at the schedule and consider coming to the Festival. This could be your only chance to see many of the movies listed, which should speak to any cinephile. The atmosphere is always great; movie fans love hanging out and chatting, whether in a restaurant after seeing a documentary or in line for the late-night horror show. Besides, this year's robot-themed logo is priceless, and you can grab a commemorative T-shirt while in town. And maybe you'll even bump into me!
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Libraries Are Important to Communities
Whenever I hear conservatives talk of the need to reduce government spending--which, by the way, I hear often--I get nervous because it seems like so many things I like are at the top of the list of "services to be reduced." When I was a student, the talk always seemed to turn to music and the arts. Now that I am older, I hear it come to libraries and archives. Don't get me wrong, I am well aware that many other things are also facing severe budget cutbacks. But where defunding music and the arts hit me hard as a student, defunding libraries and archives hits me even harder as an adult. Taking away music and arts education in schools is not the same as forbidding music and arts, but many children who cannot afford to study those things on their own, or who do not already have an inclination to do so, will now not get a chance to learn about them. Similarly, taking away a library from a community might not matter as much to the people who, say, have an Internet connection at home and can afford to buy whatever books or movies they want, but many other people will be left behind.
Libraries are important to so many different groups of people, and for so many reasons. I use my library constantly. At any given time I have probably several dozen books, DVDs, CDs, and video games checked out. I read voraciously, I go through movies very quickly, I love listening to new CDs on my iPod at work, and I sometimes want to try out new video games. I frequently recommend the library purchase new materials that interest me, much more than I buy such things myself. In theory, I could buy all these things myself, but I would probably wind up spending hundreds of dollars every month on things I am seldom likely to pick up again. (Also, I really cannot afford to buy books at anything close to the rate at which I read them.) And even though I am pretty liberal about lending or giving away my things, for the most part all the stuff I buy would still just sit around my apartment, used by no one but me. So instead, I contribute my time to help keep my local library going, and I treat it as if I get to share all these great materials with everyone else. I take care of whatever I check out because I know others will want it too. When I request a purchase and the library gets it, I love to see how many people are waiting to pick it up. That "25 out 25" request position never looks better!
Libraries are a great resource for me to get the books and movies I want, but I also see my library performing many other tasks for the community. Elderly patrons who have a hard time understanding e-mail come in and get help writing to their relatives. Parents with new children come in for storytime and play groups. Tax documents are kept on hand. I even see my library function as a general information kiosk: People who are visiting the area sometimes stop in to ask for directions or get a recommendation on a place to eat.
When libraries have less money to work with, all these services get threatened. I can always buy a book I really want if the library cannot afford to purchase it, but not everyone who uses the library can say the same. If the library closes, I can still check my e-mail from home, but some of the grandparents in the neighborhood do not have the same luxury. When I think about the loss to my community if our library ever closed, I think about much more than just my own inconvenience.
Libraries are important to so many different groups of people, and for so many reasons. I use my library constantly. At any given time I have probably several dozen books, DVDs, CDs, and video games checked out. I read voraciously, I go through movies very quickly, I love listening to new CDs on my iPod at work, and I sometimes want to try out new video games. I frequently recommend the library purchase new materials that interest me, much more than I buy such things myself. In theory, I could buy all these things myself, but I would probably wind up spending hundreds of dollars every month on things I am seldom likely to pick up again. (Also, I really cannot afford to buy books at anything close to the rate at which I read them.) And even though I am pretty liberal about lending or giving away my things, for the most part all the stuff I buy would still just sit around my apartment, used by no one but me. So instead, I contribute my time to help keep my local library going, and I treat it as if I get to share all these great materials with everyone else. I take care of whatever I check out because I know others will want it too. When I request a purchase and the library gets it, I love to see how many people are waiting to pick it up. That "25 out 25" request position never looks better!
Libraries are a great resource for me to get the books and movies I want, but I also see my library performing many other tasks for the community. Elderly patrons who have a hard time understanding e-mail come in and get help writing to their relatives. Parents with new children come in for storytime and play groups. Tax documents are kept on hand. I even see my library function as a general information kiosk: People who are visiting the area sometimes stop in to ask for directions or get a recommendation on a place to eat.
When libraries have less money to work with, all these services get threatened. I can always buy a book I really want if the library cannot afford to purchase it, but not everyone who uses the library can say the same. If the library closes, I can still check my e-mail from home, but some of the grandparents in the neighborhood do not have the same luxury. When I think about the loss to my community if our library ever closed, I think about much more than just my own inconvenience.
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