Princess Mononoke Ghibli accessory line returns with all-natural dagger pendant and more【Photos】
Ashitaka's gift to San can now be a gift for you.
Princess Mononoke is the grittiest Ghibli anime. Even compared to the Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind and its post-apocalyptic setting, or to The Wind Rises and its constant looming of the outbreak of World War II, Princess Mononoke's narrative is oppressively dark, and even the film's ending acknowledges that there can likely never be a perfectly happy resolution to its fundamental conflicts.
And yet, there's beauty to be found in Princess Mononoke too, both in the bonds characters manage to form in spite of the cruel events taking place around them, and also in the anime's amazing visual designs. Symbolizing both of those is the pendant that Ashitaka gives to San as a symbol of his devotion, which fans can now also wear in the real world.
About to be restocked by Studio Ghibli specialty shop Donguri Kyowakoku, this necklace differs from the one we took a look at a while back, and is made of all-natural materials. The cord is leather, the bead wood, and the pendant itself is made of sodalite.
Sodalite is said to ward off evil, both from external sources and maliciousness born from within stemming from anger or fearfulness. On a less metaphysical level, sodalite also looks really pretty, and since it's a natural stone, each pendant is a unique work of art with its own hue and marbling.
If you're looking to further accessorize like Princess Mononoke's female lead, Donguri Kyowakoku has also restocked San's earrings.
Once again, the design employs natural materials. Rather than plastic, the discs are made of shell, and the beads are wood (though the fittings are brass).
The earrings are available in two versions, one for pierced ears and one that uses ear clips instead.
In a deviation from their in-anime appearance, the discs bear a pattern evocative of San's battle mask on one side. Also not necessarily appearing within the anime, but instantly recognizable as inspired by it, is the 'Tataring.'
A play on words with tatarigami, as the cursed forest gods are called in the Japanese-language version of Princess Mononoke, the Tataring is a band of the writhing curse energy that Ashitaka becomes infested with which kicks off the chain of events that leads to him meeting San and the inhabitants of Irontown, then becoming entangled in their conflict.
The Tataring is, of course, not actually cursed, but the finish on the epoxy resin gives it a gleam that makes it look like it's undulating when viewed from different angles.
And finally, if you're looking for someplace to store all of these when you're not wearing them, there's the San Fur Pouch.
Don't worry, the designers' penchant for using natural materials didn't extend to them actually skinning a white wolf to make it. The 13-centimeter (5.1-inch) long pouch is covered in polyester imitation fur, though the zipper pulls are natural shell.
Anime themed accessories in general, and Ghibli merch in particular, often comes with a bit of premium pricing, but the most expensive item in the bunch is the pendant at 5,940 yen (US$41), with the earrings 2,640 yen, the Tataring 1,980 yen, and the pouch 3,080 yen. Donguri Kyowakoku's restock means that they'll all be available once again through the chain's online store from April 26 at 10 a.m. (pendant here, pierced earrings here, clip earrings here, ring here, and pouch here).
Source: Donguri Kyowakoku
Top image: Donguri Kyowakoku
Insert images: Donguri Kyowakoku (1, 2, 3, 4, 5)
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The National Theater has been the home of traditional Japanese performing arts since its opening in 1966. Now the aging complex has closed its doors, and a controversial redevelopment plan has stalled, raising questions about cultural policy and the future of the performing arts in Japan. The iconic stage at Japan's National Theater, renowned for its Japanese cypress boards and elaborate stage machinery, has fallen dark. Performances at the aging theatrical complex in the heart of Tokyo came to a halt in October 2023, and plans to redevelop the site in collaboration with the private sector have stalled, leaving practitioners and fans of Japan's traditional performing arts in limbo. Origin and Mission of the National Theater The National Theater, located just opposite the Imperial Palace in central Tokyo, was established in 1966 for the purpose of 'preserving and promoting Japan's ancient traditional performing arts' by 'presenting performances, training successors, and conducting research.' The proposal for a national theater in Japan has been through various iterations since the early years of the Meiji era (1868–1912), each reflecting the national aspirations of the time. In the Meiji, such a theater was promoted in the context of the government's Westernization drive. After World War II, it was re-imagined as a symbol of Japan's rebirth as a 'cultural state.' But the groundwork for such a program was not laid until 1954, with the revision of the Law for the Protection of Cultural Properties. The revised law instituted a system for the preservation of 'intangible cultural properties,' including traditional crafts and performing arts. This paved the way for the establishment of a central institution tasked with advancing a comprehensive national policy for the performing arts. At the National Theater, established professionals in the traditional Japanese performing arts have had the opportunity to explore and study artworks in depth and produce polished performances that captivate audiences. At the same time, the National Theater has provided broad-based support for the growth of the performing arts at the amateur and semi-professional levels by opening up its theatrical facilities to a wide variety of independent performers. Among the National Theater's core functions is the training of young performers to carry on Japan's performing-arts traditions. Kabuki has traditionally been dominated by established families, in which skills are passed down lineally, from generation to generation. Yet today, graduates of the National Theater's training program account for about 30% of all active kabuki actors and almost 90% of the art's narrators and musicians. In 2019, Takemoto Aoidayū, a product of that training program, was designated a living national treasure. The National Theater's raison d'être lies in its steady support for critical aspects of cultural preservation that cannot be left to the private sector because they cannot be relied on to generate short-term profits: the presentation of authentic classical works in their original form and the cultivation of young practitioners to carry on the traditions of Japan's performing arts. That said, there is no denying the fact that the National Theater's devoted audiences, much like its performers, are showing their age. Hobbled by its 'highbrow' image, the theater has failed to attract younger patrons in significant numbers. With this in mind, government policy makers hammered out a new vision for the National Theater of tomorrow. While built on the same site and reaffirming the institution's core commitment to the traditional performing arts, the new National Theater would be an open, accessible, and lively hub that would also function as an international center of cultural tourism. It was to open by the autumn of 2029. But two successive invitations to tender (ITTs), in 2022 and 2023, failed to yield a qualified bidder. As a result, the aging National Theater closed its doors in October 2023 with no clear prospects for reopening. Hurdles to Private Investment The redevelopment of the National Theater complex has been presented as a major state initiative involving multiple agencies, including the Ministry of Education, Culture, Sports, Science, and Technology (MEXT), the Agency for Cultural Affairs, and the Ministry of Land, Infrastructure, Transport, and Tourism. Responding to questioning in the House of Councillors Budget Committee in March this year, Prime Minister Ishiba Shigeru called the National Theater 'the face of the arts in Japan' and made it clear that he considered the current impasse unacceptable. Yet the project remains stalled. Several factors have contributed to the failure of the government's ITTs. Foremost among these are the labor shortage attending the sudden resumption of construction projects after the COVID-19 epidemic and the rising cost of materials resulting from the weak yen and the war in Ukraine. These problems are not unique to the National Theater project; indeed, the media have been rife with reports of failed ITTs for new hospitals, schools, and construction in disaster-hit communities. But there are additional factors that have soured private developers on the National Theater project. To begin with, the architectural and engineering demands are daunting. Japan's traditional performing arts have unique staging requirements that must be built into the theater. Kabuki stages, for example, typically feature a hanamichi, a raised runway by which characters enter and exit through the audience, and many plays require a revolving stage, elevators, and other complex machinery. The National Theater at the time of its completion with a view of the stage from the audience (top). The 20-meter revolving stage has 16 movable platforms (bottom) allowing for a range of complex effects. Photographs taken in October 1966. (© Jiji) The National Theater was equipped with the largest revolving stage in Japan, with a diameter of 20 meters. The kabuki stage also has 16 platforms that can be raised and lowered individually. The machinery that controls these effects extends roughly five stories below ground level and weighs about 300 tons. There are no engineers or artisans living today who can share the lessons learned from the National Theater's construction six decades ago. It will take considerable time and expertise for designers to work out the best approach, keeping in mind the Metropolitan Expressway that runs beneath the site. Moreover, in earthquake-prone Japan, public buildings must comply with strict safety standards that have grown tougher and tougher over the years. (One reason the decision was made to demolish and rebuild the National Theater, instead of renovating the existing complex, is the extent of structural changes required to bring the buildings up to code.) Limits of the PFI Model Also at issue is the private finance initiative method that the government has chosen to implement this ambitious project. In a PFI, the government enters into a long-term contract with a private company to build and operate a public facility. The terms of the contract are meant to prevent the cost to the government from ballooning by ensuring that considerations of cost-efficiency and profitability are incorporated into the process at each stage, including post-construction maintenance and management. Since the early 2000s, PFIs have accounted for a growing share of public infrastructure projects. It is easy to understand why the Japanese government would embrace this model for the new National Theater. Demographic aging and population decline are causing Japan's social security expenditures to balloon even while the tax base shrinks, putting the government in a fiscal bind. However important the center's role as 'the face of the arts in Japan,' it is hard to justify using taxpayer money to build an expensive facility that critics may say will only benefit a very privileged portion of the population. With this in mind, the government opted for a PFI project aimed at developing a multipurpose complex that included such privately-owned, revenue-generating facilities as hotels, restaurants, and cafes, alongside the theaters themselves. The idea was to create a public space used and loved by a broader cross-section of the population, even while maintaining the National Theater's core functions, and at the same time minimize the impact on public finances. But prospective bidders were deterred by the risks of the scheme, which called on the winner to manage and maintain the facility for 20 years after completion while paying the state for use of the land (with rent initially calculated at ¥965 million annually). If revenues fell even slightly short of projections, the company would be saddled with long-term losses. Last February, policy makers announced plans to make the project more palatable to private developers, including lowering the rent and dropping some of the initial requirements, such as the inclusion of a hotel in the complex. The government has now allocated about ¥102 billion for construction, including supplementary funds to cover rising costs. Yet there is still no word on the timetable for a third ITT. Dwindling Spaces, Endangered Traditions Despite the closure of its performance spaces, the National Theater has not shut down its operations entirely. Some of the teaching and practice facilities within the complex are still usable, and training for young artists continues there and at the National Olympics Memorial Youth Center in Shibuya. But as professionals will tell you, 'one performance is worth a hundred rehearsals.' The loss of opportunities to perform in front of a live audience for a period of five years or more could stunt or even end budding careers. Aware of this danger, the National Theater has made efforts to secure alternative venues. But according to a survey by Geidankyō (Japan Council of Performers Rights & Performing Arts Organizations), the number of kabuki and bunraku performances scheduled by the National Theater in 2024 was down 42% and 5% respectively from 2019. A decline of this magnitude jeopardizes the very survival of kabuki as a living art form. A big part of the problem is the shortage of theaters in Tokyo. Even before the National Theater closed, the closure of theaters for renovations or financial reasons had created fierce competition for the remaining spaces. The public halls run by local governments operate on the principle of equal access for all members of the community, with little or no regard for whether artists rely on public performance to earn a living. But another issue is the relationship of the performers to the National Theater. Most European national theaters have their own resident companies and employ the performers and directors as part of their regular staff. If such a theater were to cut back on performances, leading to lower compensation, it could be subject to union action or administrative lawsuits. For this reason, when a European national theater is scheduled to close for renovation, the managing entity works proactively to secure alternative performance opportunities, as by arranging world tours. Japan's National Theater does not employ performers or directors on an ongoing basis. When opportunities to perform in National Theater productions dwindle, the onus is on the performers to compensate for the loss of income by raising funds and creating their own performance opportunities. For this reason, National Theater performers have banded together to apply for grants, organize fundraising events, plan programs, and arrange independent performance opportunities, including domestic and international tours. But it has been an uphill battle owing to the intense competition for funds and performance space. Clarifying the Mission The plan to redevelop the National Theater has provoked a good deal of debate over such nuts and bolts as the location of the complex and the method of financing. But the key issue is the fundamental question of what the public and the performers expect from Japan's National Theater. National theaters first appeared in Europe, where their emergence coincided with the rise of civic life in modern nation-states. Japan's historical background was quite different, as was the cultural milieu into which this foreign model was transplanted. Japan already had its own system with separate theatrical and dance troupes—each with its own established traditions, methods, and performance styles. Grafting a European-style national theater onto this smoothly functioning system inevitably raised problems. It is all the more important, therefore, that we begin this historic redevelopment project by clarifying the purpose of the National Theater and its place in the lives of the Japanese people. Does anyone really believe that the deliberations and discourse carried out to date have been sufficient to accomplish that? This unanticipated hiatus in the National Theater's operations is an unlooked-for opportunity to formulate a blueprint for the next 100 years, and it would be a shame to waste it. We should also seize the occasion to reassess Japan's cultural policy vis-a-vis the performing arts. This country lacks a stable cultural infrastructure where professional performers can securely train, explore their art, and earn a living. This requires the construction of multiple public theaters tailored to specific uses but available for sharing when one or another facility closes for renovations. The government needs to start looking at the performing arts as an industry, not a hobby, and implement policies that provide a sustainable working environment for the individuals and groups who rely on public performance to make a living. The search for optimal design solutions should proceed with this premise in mind. (Originally published in Japanese on May 15. Banner photo: The National Theater in Tokyo. © Jiji.)
