Machiko Kusahara
Ph.D
Professor,
School of
Letters, Arts and Sciences, Waseda University, JP |
 |
Dr.
Machiko Kusahara is an internationally recognized researcher,
curator, writer and lecturer in media art and theory. She been
working in an interdisciplinary field connecting art, science,
technology, culture, sociology and history. Her recent research
is on the correlations between digital media and traditional
culture.
In this paper,
a lecture for a 1997 Invaenco Conference in Brasil, Dr. Kusahara
explores the history of Japanese collaborative poetry, renga, in
relationship to contemporary cultural attitudes toward
"ownership." She takes the reader on a fascinating journey
through past, present and future Japanese culture and
activities, through a poetry, the visual arts, computer
networking technology, robotics.
I teach media art theory and practice in Japan to students aged from
eighteen to mid-twenties. Some of them are older. There are quite a few
students from other Asian countries such as Korea, China, and Taiwan who
come to study the cutting edge technologies. In general they are hard
working students, eager to study.
Several years ago I had an interesting experience. I asked my students to
submit papers; to write on issues of technology and artistic representation
in computer graphics. Afterwards, I went through the students' works. There
was a brilliant paper from an overseas student. I was happy to give him a good
mark. Then there was another good paper; the only problem was that the
sentences were exactly the same as the earlier one. And another, and
another. It was clear by that time, that they had copied someone's writing.
Strangely enough, they were the best students in my class; those who always
had come to ask me good questions. I didn't understand why they
wanted to copy from someone else's writing. Instead of giving them
the lowest marks, I
decided to interview every one of them. They answered my questions without a
problem. Apparently, they understood my lecture and could speak in their own
words. Then, why did they copy? Their answer to this question was clear
enough. "I don't write Japanese well enough. But I read an article written
by someone, and I totally agreed with what was written there. It was exactly
what I wanted to say. So I copied it. It's much better than my poor
Japanese. I shouldn't let my dear professor suffer from my poor writing.
What's wrong with it?"
This is a totally different idea from what we know of copyright. Many times,
Japanese are accused of not respecting copyright, often copying software for
example. Still it was a little too much from even by Japanese standards.
Yet, since part of my background is in oriental painting, and I had certain
experience in its learning process, I somehow understood what brought them to
take such an action. It comes from something we share in Asian culture in
general. There is something in common, not only with oriental paintings, but with most of the martial
arts, tea ceremony and flower arrangement. So,
that was one of my starting points, where I started to think about the way
our cultural tradition works with digital media, including electronic art.
Before showing some works from Japan regarding this theme, I
would like to talk about Japanese poetry. Haikai is a form of short poem
which has a long history. Actually, there was much influence from Chinese
literature in the foundation of such short poems. Haikai developed from waka,
which was appreciated among the nobles who read Chinese poetry and who took
certain ideas from it. What is interesting about Japanese history is that,
not only the nobles, but also ordinary people enjoyed making and
appreciating such short poems. The first official anthology of waka includes
many poems made by anonymous, common people from all over the country. These
short poems were not necessarily the expression of their feelings. They were
also used as a tool of communication, either to convey polite greetings or
passionate affection, or even political messages. A noble person was expected to have the skills to write a nice poem
rather than a love letter.
This was often the case with common people as well.
But waka has only 5-7-5-7-7 syllables, which might be a composition of six
to ten words. How can one put so much meaning into such a short form? Actually, this was exactly the reason why waka served as a useful tool of
communication. Instead of being a poem that stands by itself with meanings
which come directly from its components, a waka would consist of words that
have different meanings behind them. In a sense, Waka was a multi-textural,
non-linear form of literature. Because of this, a waka could mean much more
than what was literally said.
Besides making poems, enjoying
poems or publishing poems, we play also with poems in Japan. I used to do so when I was a child. It was the most
popular game to be played during the new year holidays among families and
friends: there is a set of one hundred poems from one hundred different
celebrated poets from around the 15th century. Players would memorize these
poems. There are two sets of one hundred cards each; one with full poems to be
read (for the reader), and the other with only the latter half of the poems
(for the players). When a poem is read, the players are to find the correct
card which contains only the second part of the poem. It can be a match
between two players (more formal competition), or among more than three
people. The player who gets the largest number of cards wins. It's a serious
match. On the other hand, these cards are usually beautifully decorated and
painted. There are even old sets of cards, hand-painted by well-known
painter/designer, Korin Ogata. It is a jou de culture. These playing cards
are called "karuta," which derives from the Portuguese word for cards. The
idea of playing with paper cards was originally brought to Japan by the
Portuguese. But, instead of playing with numbers, the Japanese played with
poems.
The
largest Japanese publisher for such cards today is Nintendo.
Nintendo is now better known as a computer game maker and
distributor, but the company was originally a publisher of these
playing cards. It is interesting to think how the Japanese game
culture has changed from a game of classic literature to occidental
shooting, or dragon and dungeon games involving computers, while
Nintendo always remains as a mainstream of such culture. Does it, in
fact, reflect the change of Japanese culture?
In such a society where making and appreciating poems is a part of the
culture and is an important tool of communication, people should know poems
and the hidden meanings. In fact, a word can even have references behind its
regular meanings. For example, if a name of a place (either in Japan or in
China) is mentioned in a poem, it doesn't only mean the place itself, but it
provides a link to all the previous contexts included in the earlier poems
that referred to the same place. Such particular names of places made an
important part of "makura-kotoba". "Makura-kotoba" (which literally means
"pillow word" ) is used as the first part of a poem (makura means
pre-positioning), and opens the link to further metaphorical meanings and
other poems as mentioned. Besides names of particular places, certain
adjectival phrases established themselves as makura-kotoba. Through these
words and phrases, a short poem can mean many things.
Making a poem, or replying to a poem was thus a serious match of
intelligence. The emperor's court enjoyed rather peaceful times for more
than hundred years from the 10th to 11th centuries. Noble men did not have
to show their ability in fighting. Earning fame by intelligence (i.e.
knowing and making poems for example) became an important part of the
career. Having one's poems selected for the royal anthology of waka, or
winning at a waka match in the royal court, was a serious business. It is
also known that a noble family would hire an intelligent woman as a tutor
for their daughter, in order that she might win the chance marry the emperor
or crown prince. Thus, her father could seize power. Lady Murasaki, who
wrote "The Tale of Genji" was one of those tutors. Lady Seisho, who was one
of the earliest essayists known for exceptional intelligence and sense of
humor, was actually a tutor for a noble lady who was a rival to Lady
Murasaki's mistress. Knowledge of literature played an important part in the
court, and thus of power politics.
To serve such purposes, there were already publications available at that
time. This was a kind of database. They contained all possible references
for each word, how it was used in previous poems, and thus what it could mean
beside its original meaning. The idea for such a database had been founded
previously in China. China was the first country in the world which
introduced an open examination, given by the state for the hiring of state
officials. Anyone from any class could become an elite if that individual could
succeed in the examination in which literature was an important part.
What would happen to the idea of copyright or originality in a society where
poems are part of communication, and are recycled as a part of a database of
metaphor? Here, a good poem will be cited, not as a whole, but just in part;
citing the whole poem does not make for a match of intelligence. A word from
a good poem would start to take on its own meaning, and would be used over
and over, gradually changing or enriching its original meanings. In a sense,
it becomes a gene in the literature. A good, useful gene will be used,
modified, and keeps on living in different forms. The poem could
become a makura-kotoba, for example. Finally, the origin of such a gene
might be forgotten because it becomes a part of the environment. On the
other hand, a bad or banal poem would only remain as it was, without
reference or citation. A poet therefore should feel happy if a part of his/her
poem is used in a different poem by someone else. An appreciated poem would
be recorded and printed with the poet's name credited on the official
publication from the court (such publication was regularly achieved, besides being remembered by others. But, at the same time, the poem should
be decomposed and re-used by others to prove its metaphorical strength. It
is difficult to say iwhethre such tradition influenced and prepared the way
for the Japanese attitude towards originality, or if it derives, more
deeply, from Japanese or Asian culture. Judging by the fact that Asian
countries share similar attitudes towards copyright, it is likely that both
Asian culture and Pan-Pacific cultures cultivated this tendency.
Waka gave birth to another important form of Japanese poem, renga, which
developed into haikai-no-renga, or what was later simply called haiku.
Instead of going through a dialogue by a series of independent waka, two or
more poets would collaborate in making renga. Renga means "linked verse." A
verse which is a set of two lines that consist of five and seven syllables
would be composed by a poet, followed by another verse made by another poet,
and thus it continues. Continues? Yes and no. Here is the interesting
feature of renga. The aesthetic of renga consists in the continuous change
of scenes, not in the continuity of the scene. Each verse reflects what was
represented in the previous one, but should develop into something else. It
is a consequence of chain-imagination that shouldn't stay at one spot. One
can see in it the tradition of matching poems. It is both collaboration and
a match of intelligence and imagination among poets.
In the Edo era,
rather than the waka matches of earlier centuries held at the
royal court, renga parties would take place indoors and outdoors, typically
among rich citizens. Matsuo Basho was one of the most celebrated directors
of such renga parties. In fact, directing renga was a source of major income
for Basho. The well known Japanese short poem, haiku was developed from
renga, by establishing that beginning portion of renga as an independent
verse [the hokku] . It was Basho who established haiku as a new form of
poetry.
Now let's see how this tradition is most reflected in Japanese contemporary
digital art. Illustrator, Katsuhiko Hibino, whose works were exhibited in Venezia Biennale in 1995, conducted an interesting experiment by way of
the computer network in the previous year. Two of his illustrations
were uploaded to the biggest commercial computer network in Japan. Users were
invited to download the images, using them to make one's own image(s). It
was an open competition where Hibino himself made selections from entered
works. There were some interesting works entered. Hibino also conducted an
open workshop during one of his exhibitions. By connecting his studio and
the exhibition space with the computer network and telephone line, the artist
invited visitors to participate in a remote collaboration while talking on the telephone.
Hibino carried out these experiments because he was curious how people would
interpret and modify his images. Artist, Noriyuki Tanaka joined the
experiment on the net along with Hibino. Tanaka is known for his
collaborative works with Professor Shinsuke Shimojo of the University of
Tokyo, which brought art and cognitive science together. Creating a space
where a visitor would realize his/her unconscious ego, expectations, or
automatic ways of cognition, is the purpose of Tanaka's artwork. As a
result, with Tanaka's two images uploaded to the network, participants
created different resulting images on the net.
One of the most interesting works came from an architect who, by using 3D
computer graphics, made a virtual installation of Tanaka's works. For
Tanaka, the project was of interest in experiencing how his imagination
would go through changes by means of the imaginations of other people. The
resulting images are mixtures from the imaginations of both the artist and
the users. The artist experimented with the idea even further in his CD-ROM
publication, "The Art of Clear Light." The CD-ROM, which contains
photographs which Tanaka took in different places, is not just the photo
album of an artist. It contains a piece of software which shuffles the
images in the CD-ROM, overlaying each one atop images from a different
folder in the computer. A user is invited to put his/her own photographs or
drawings into the folder, so that each image will be mixed together with the
artist's piece of work.
This is a totally different approach to show an artist's works. An artist
usually insists on showing one's own works in their complete form, without
being altered in any sense. But Noriyuki Tanaka insists that his images
should be seen as mixed with those of users! From the point of view of a
user, Tanaka says, when one sees their own familiar image (i.e. a photo one
has taken, for example) through the half-transparent layer of a different
image which the artist had prepared, it means that the user sees the scene
through the artist's layer of thought. The two consciousness— that of the user
and that of the artist—combine within the scene, producing a new meaning. Merging
one's ego with others to see what is beyond: according to Tibetan Buddhism,
this is the meaning behind the title of the publication, "The Art of Clear
Light."
Art projects to create the experience of steppping beyond one's self are
carried out by artist Kazuhiko Hachiya, as well. In his work, "InterDiscommunication
Machine," Hachiya made a parody of the InterCommunication Center(NTT/ICC) through
the project's name, and a parody of the high-end, expensive virtual reality
in its system design. ICC is named for the concept that the new media
technology would connect people by creating new channels of communication.
InterDiscommunication Machine shows that technology can also serve to cause
discommunication among people. Actually, the aim of the work is to promote
communication between two visitors by physically relocating the normal
communication channel. With this piece of art, the two users
are each asked to wear special equipment which looks exactly like a kind of HMD (head mounted display), with a screen and a set of headphone with a
transmitter on one's back. Only the screen is seen. What one truly sees on
the screen is the space in front of him/her, but from a different point of
view. It is, in fact, that same space as seen by the other person! What you
would see is what the other person sees, what you would hear is what the
other person hears. A small video camera and a microphone atop the helmet
shoots the supposed view and collects the sound around a visitor. Those
images and sounds are transmitted by wireless communication to the other
person's screen and the speaker.
Though the technology is very simple, this system allows for the exchange of
one's view and the soundscape for that of another person. In a sense, it is
an extremely low-tech virtual reality. It is difficult to imagine what such
an experience would be like, unless you try it. In this virtual space, you
should look around for yourself on the screen in order to reach the other
person. If you see yourself, it means that the other person now sees you.
You should understand the space around you by guessing what the other person
is doing, because you can see it only through the other person's eyes. In
today's world, shaking hands is already a big deal. People say, "try to see
things from another person's point of view". But when it comes true, seeing
things from another person's point of view is not that easy. Gradually, you
get used to the sense of having one's tele-existence belonging to another
person's coordinate system. It is a strange feeling to merge one's world
into someone else's cognitive space.
Another project Hachiya carried out after the invention of this machine was
"Mega-Diary," which took place as one of the network art projects sponsored
by InterCommunication Center. A hundred users of the network were invited to
write diaries for a hundred days respectively. The diaries would be open on
the network: anyone could read others' diaries. By reading others' diaries
daily, one starts to have a sense of one's life being mixed with others'
lives. One starts to virtually live and experience other people's lives.
Personal experience and emotion will be mixed with other people's. Here
again, the theme of the project is to experience a merging ego. "Reading
others' diaries was a strange experience," one of the participants said,
"but after a while I felt like I was living their lives, even though I had
never seen them . We just happened to be on the same network. They became
closer than my parents with whom I live. Someone always wrote about the dish
he cooked. I felt like I was virtually eating those dishes. I watched TV
that I didn't watch in my real life, enjoyed playing games in a game center
I have never visited. ... When we finally met after the hundred day term was
over, it was a kind of déjà vu."
The most significant art
project illustrating the reincarnation of Japanese traditional
culture in the digital era is
RENGA
www.renga.com,
conceived and carried by artists Toshihiro Anzai and Rieko Nakamura. Ren, in this case is a word
play. Ren means "link" or "linked." Ga, in its original terminology, means
"song" or "poem." The same sound, ga, written with a different Chinese
character, also means "image". Renga, here, means "linked images" rather
than "linked verse." Anzai and Nakamura are artists who use computers to
paint. They have been using the network, organizing various projects on the
net for years. Nakamura worked as a project coordinator at one of the major
commercial networks in Japan, while her background is in painting. Anzai had
opened his own network, which became a meeting place for media artists and
researchers. Including myself, people virtually met on these networks every
night to discuss the new features of digital technology in terms of the
concept of originality. The basic idea was to create a virtual studio or
"café in the air" where people would get together around midnight to show
one's works, enjoy a performance, collaborate, discuss or argue. Like the
painters and poets who gathered together in cafés of old Paris, we thought
we needed such a place on the network. We also had MOO and MUD without
knowing what such ideas are called in English. The network was also an
important part of the activity of Digital Image, the largest group of
digital artists in Japan which we founded in 1989 (the first exhibition took
place in May 1991). The concept of RENGA was developed under these
circumstances.
The idea of RENGA came to Anzai by chance. During a workshop, Digital Image
organized an exhibition. It was held in Toyama on December, 1991 (the last
of the eight exhibitions Digital Image held in 1991). Anzai sat in front of
a computer where Nakamura's work was loaded. He started to modify the image
unconsciously. Then he noticed that the resulting image showed a hybrid of
the two different styles of the artists. In fact, Nakamura's work brought a
"seed" of imagination to Anzai, which was different from usual. It then
developed into a different direction from Nakamura's style because it was Anzai who watered it and let it grow. It was a new experience for Anzai.
After thinking and analyzing this experience for several weeks, he proposed
a new network collaboration to Nakamura. As a result, the first series of
RENGA was exhibited at the annual Digital Image exhibition in 1992.
RENGA is
carried as follows. One artist will prepare an image. The image will
be sent to the other artist via network. The other artist will
modify the image freely, turning it into his/her own work. The image
will then be sent back to the first artist. The session continues
until they feel the series is saturated. While the process itself is
collaborative painting, the concept of RENGA is deeply connected to
the nature of digital technology and the idea of originality. In
general, an artist would naturally hesitate to modify a work of
another artist. It means to destroy someone's work. But in the case
of digital painting, one can easily save a copy of an image and give
it to someone else. The original and the copy are identical.
Moreover, one can make as many copies as one wants without degrading
the quality of the original. This is totally different case from prints
in traditional media
such as lithography.
With such features, the traditional system that supports the value of
artwork loses its basis. The value of an artwork can no longer be based on
the physical originality of the piece. In the case of RENGA, an artist would
paint digitally, and then make a copy and send it to the other artist by
e-mail. No material is involved in the process. It is a genuine IMAGE which
is on the screen without any physical existence. At the same time, and for
exactly the same reason, one can make identical copies of an image. Any part
of an image can be modified or erased on the screen without leaving any
trace of the original image. It is different from painting over someone
else's oil painting.
What kind of experience is it, to go through a RENGA session? First of all,
it is a match of artistic sensitivity and expression between the artists. Of
course, it is not a fight—it is a collaboration. Yet, one has to "catch a
ball" thrown to him/her, which is heavy enough with its artistic content,
and then "throw it back" with a different content. Just as one must know the
course and the weight of a ball if you want to catch it correctly, one has
to understand the content of the image thrown to him/her via the net, to
catch and "cook" it in his/her own style. On the other hand, it is an
exciting experience to share someone else's way of imagination. Instead of
limiting the source of imagination to oneself, there are different
possibilities in finding the seed of images. By trying to understand the
nature of the image given by another artist, one would discover a new
landscape. One has to confront with an alien imagination. It is not very
easy sometimes. But on the other hand, it means that one's personal universe
would become wider and more adventurous, and an artist can go through the
creative process through dialogue. It is interesting to see the whole
session of RENGA when you know the original styles of the participating
artists. Each work clearly shows the style of the artist, yet there is also
something different imbued.
Going through a session of RENGA is an exciting experience. At SIGGRAPH 94,
we organized a three day international RENGA session connecting the EDGE at SIGGRAPH (which was the exhibition space for interactive art) and artists on
the network in Japan. An image would go though modification at SIGGRAPH, with
artists visiting the space. At the end of the afternoon, the final piece of
the day would be sent to Japan. The next morning, the image which was sent
back from Japan was uploaded in Orlando, Florida, and the same procedure
repeated. Another international session was held during ISEA 95 between
Montreal and Tokyo. An artist told me after he joined RENGA, "I usually
don't make such pieces. But the image sent to me provoked something in me
that I hadn't realized until now. I never thought that I had such
imagination. I couldn't help making this piece. It was me who painted—but it
was not just me."
Another episode of RENGA, with Chinese contemporary calligraphy artist, Xia
Gao, would signify the nature of RENGA. It was a session held in Beijing in
1996. For the Chinese artist, it was the first time he collaborated with
artists using digital technology. With his signatures, Gao's two calligraphy works were scanned into
the computer and used as the "seeds" for the
session. Anzai and Nakamura modified the images that were transmitted to
them through network, then sent them back. In Beijing the images were
printed out, and Gao painted over them. When Gao sent the images back for
the second time, Anzai and Nakamura noticed that Gao's signatures were no longer
on the images, and yet the signature is an important part of calligraphy.
Later they asked him about it. Gao told them that he understood that the
images are no longer HIS works, but the result of collaborative imagination.
The sense of owning one's work vanishes. Collaborative imagination? Isn't
there something terrifying in the idea?
The Japanese are well known
for their efficiency in working in groups. It is why Japanese industry has succeeded.
On the other hand, Japanese are not very good in making decisions concerning
one's own responsibility. Seeking more value in collaboration, rather than
an individual's goal makes a totalitarian attitude easier, which was unfortunately proven in our recent
history. Our tradition of putting less importance on the artists' personal
rights over their artworks should explain the problem of the copyright
issue, such as that of copying software. Yet, the same tradition might bring
new possibilities to the network, allowing a free transaction of the imagination.
It is a different approach coming from a different cultural perspective.
There is a word, "biodiversity": an ecosystem with a rich variety of species
is more stable and would survive drastic environmental changes. Species
which develop to fit the environment would have difficulties when something
changes. Minor species might find the new environment more comfortable and
would become prosperous. If there are no such species, all species might
die. As is known in case of the regeneration of forests, the ecosystem
itself is the combination of different species. I believe in the necessity
of the cultural biodiversity. Each culture has its own traditions. Through
its history a society would generate its own culture; the whole complex of
art, society, ways of thinking, ways of working, etc., which are connected
together with the same backbone and nerve system. Every now and then, there
might be a prevailing culture that orients the global fauna. Yet when a big
change happens to the environment, it is such diversity of culture that
helps to find the way, to modify the rule and to keep the global society
adapting to the new conditions. And the environment is, in fact, changing
rapidly and globally. The new ways of communication, such as the network, is
changing our way of thinking and way of living. We need to keep our cultural
biodiversity.
I am proud that I could bring something from my own culture that might bring
inspiration in the coming era. And I feel honored that I was given a chance
to speak about the subject in Brazil, where the world's largest biodiversity
kept by Brazilians along the Amazon.
ON ORIGINALITY AND JAPANESE CULTURE