Cyndi Lauper visits Tokyo Gov. Koike after 'Farewell Tour'
TOKYO -- American singer Cyndi Lauper visited the Tokyo Metropolitan Government headquarters April 27 and met with Gov. Yuriko Koike.
Lauper spoke of her view that Japan is a center of music, art and design, and that the culture is wonderfully accepting of music. Koike responded by saying how Lauper's music energizes her.
This is the 15th time Lauper has come to Japan for solo performances. As this tour is being billed as her "Farewell Tour," the dates which wrapped up April 25 are being seen as her final Japan concerts.
(Japanese original by Ryo Endo, Tokyo City News Department)
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Yomiuri Shimbun
an hour ago
- Yomiuri Shimbun
Princess Kako Attends Welcome Ceremony in Brazil; Greeted with Japanese Music, Dance Performance
The Yomiuri Shimbun Princess Kako interacts with Japanese Brazilians in Maringa, Brazil, on Sunday. MARINGA, Brazil – Princess Kako, the second daughter of Crown Prince Akishino and Crown Princess Kiko, attended a welcome ceremony held by a Japanese Brazilian organization in Maringa, Brazil, on Sunday after traveling by air from Sao Paulo. Princess Kako touched on the history of Japanese people who emigrated to Brazil, saying, 'I thought about the difficult journey taken by your ancestors, and I carry in my heart the history of Japanese Brazilians.' Fourth-generation Japanese Brazilian children performed wadaiko Japanese drum music and soran-bushi dance at the ceremony. 'I could feel your energy,' Princess Kako said.
Metropolis Japan
8 hours ago
- Metropolis Japan
Why Are There So Many Cats in Japanese Fiction?
Credit: At first, I thought I was going crazy. I'd read a book from Japanese literature, and there it was. A cat. And another book. Another cat. It seemed like every Japanese book I picked up had a cat on the cover, a cat in the plot, or a cat lingering somewhere between the pages, watching everything unfold with quiet judgment. But it wasn't just me. There really are a lot of cats in Japanese fiction. From Haruki Murakami's surreal narratives, where cats often act as enigmatic guides between worlds, to Hiro Arikawa's The Travelling Cat Chronicles , which tugs at heartstrings with a feline road trip, cats seem to hold a unique and powerful place in Japanese storytelling. But why? Japan's deep-rooted cultural connection with cats plays a role. Folklore is filled with tales of supernatural cats, such as the bakeneko and nekomata , mythical creatures that transform into humans or cause mischief. The maneki-neko , the beckoning cat seen in shop windows across the country, is a symbol of luck and prosperity. Cats are revered for their independence and mysterious aura—traits that lend themselves well to fiction. Japanese fiction often explores themes of solitude, transience and quiet introspection. And what better companion to such moods than a cat? Murakami's books, for instance, frequently feature loner protagonists who bond with cats, forming relationships that are wordless yet profound. In Sayaka Murata's novels, where the quirks of human nature are dissected, a cat's presence can provide contrast—an observer unburdened by the expectations of society. Beyond this, cats in Japanese fiction are often stand-ins for memory, loss and comfort. In Takashi Hiraide's The Guest Cat , the protagonist finds solace in a visiting feline during a time of change and uncertainty. These books tap into the Japanese concept of mono no aware —a sensitivity to the ephemeral nature of life. Publishers have caught on to the cat craze, and the market has responded. Book covers featuring cats are practically a genre of their own now, whether or not the story actually involves a feline character (as some readers have found out the hard way). The surge in Japanese 'healing fiction' ( iyashi-kei ), comforting books that offer emotional refuge, has also contributed to the trend. With their quiet companionship and nonjudgmental presence, cats embody the very essence of these cozy, introspective novels. I cover more on this exact topic in the article: Healing Japanese Fiction Books That Feel Like a Warm Hug. (Email me at editor(at) if you have more recommendations.) Will the cat craze in Japanese fiction ever slow down? Perhaps. But the truth is, Japan's love affair with cats is far from fleeting. They've been part of its folklore, art and daily life for centuries. Way back in 889, Emperor Uda (only 22 years old at the time) wrote in his diary about a mysterious black cat gifted to the imperial court: Taking a moment of my free time, I wish to express my joy of the cat. It arrived by boat as a gift to the late Emperor, received from the hands of Minamoto no Kuwashi. The color of the fur is peerless. None could find the words to describe it, although one said it was reminiscent of the deepest ink. It has an air about it, similar to Kanno. Its length is 5 sun, and its height is 6 sun. I affixed a bow about its neck, but it did not remain for long. In rebellion, it narrows its eyes and extends its needles. It shows its back. When it lies down, it curls in a circle like a coin. You cannot see its feet. It's as if it were circular Bi disk. When it stands, its cry expresses profound loneliness, like a black dragon floating above the clouds. By nature, it likes to stalk birds. It lowers its head and works its tail. It can extend its spine to raise its height by at least 2 sun. Its color allows it to disappear at night. I am convinced it is superior to all other cats. I love that last line. In one sentence, it manages to be reverent, indulgent, and quietly hilarious all at once. So human in its devotion, yet so catlike in its aloof worship. And they fit seamlessly into the kinds of modern narratives that Japanese authors craft so well—stories that are wistful. Quietly and deeply human. So if you feel like you're seeing cats everywhere in Japanese literature, don't worry—you're not imagining things. Cats are here to stay. And while I'm actually a dog person (check out my guide to adopting a dog in Japan here), I can't help but love the way felines move through these stories. They lounge in the pages, observing, creeping, and guiding us into worlds of Japanese literature that are at once beautifully mundane and surreally wonderful. You might also be interested in reading: What's Up With Bad Sex in Murakami?
Japan Today
13 hours ago
- Japan Today
The kimono is more than an artifact and more than clothing. It is a concept artists will make their own
By Sasha Grishin The kimono garment, the national dress of Japan, carries within itself all of the magic and traditions of Japanese culture. The basic features of the kimono are fairly simple. It is a wrapped front garment with square sleeves that has a rectangular body where the left side is wrapped over the right, except in funerary use. The garment may be traced back to the Heian period as a distinctive style of dress for the nobility. In the Edo period (1603–1867) it came to a glorious culmination with colorful and expensive fabrics. The great poet Matsuo Basho once wrote 'Spring passes by / again and again in layers / of blossom-kimono'. Since childhood I've loved the mystical image 'blossom-kimono'. In 2020, the Victoria and Albert Museum in London staged their epic exhibition "Kimono: Kyoto to Catwalk," where hundreds of garments, accessories, prints and photographs charted the history of the kimono from the 17th century through to the present. A new exhibition from the National Gallery of Victoria is similarly ambitious. Over 70 fabulous garments of exquisite craftsmanship – some made of silk with gold and silver embroidery and dazzling designs – have been assembled within a context of over 150 paintings, posters, wood block prints, magazines and decorative arts. Although many of the items have never been previously exhibited in Australia, most are now in the collection of the NGV, with many specifically acquired for this exhibition. Exquisite production There are seven newly acquired Edo-period silk and ramie kimonos, richly decorated with leaves, tendrils and falling snow. They provide us with a glimpse at the wealth and sophistication of the samurai and merchant classes of the 18th and 19th centuries. One of the highlights is the Uchikake Furisode wedding kimono with pine, bamboo, plum and cranes, from the early to mid-19th century. It is a display of exquisite taste with satin silk, shibori tie dyeing, and embroidery with gold thread. The birds and the vegetation seem to float on the surface and must have created an amazing sight when worn. The garment is simple and functional and, despite the exquisiteness of its production, it is also restrained in contrast to the conspicuous exuberance of some examples of 19th century European courtly dress. Some of these Edo period kimonos can become quite narrative-driven in their design, as with the Hitoe kosode kimono with themes alluding to eight Noh theatre plays of the late Edo period. Slightly smaller than the wedding kimono, that was 177.5 cm long as opposed to 167 cm, this one revels in a blue background on gauze satin silk with a multiplicity of little narrative scenes like an assembly of diverse stage sets. The exhibition also includes the work of contemporary Japanese kimono designers including Hiroko Takahashi, Jotaro Saito, Modern Antenna, Tamao Shigemune, Y&SONS, Rumi Rock and Robe Japonica. The kimono as a concept The kimono is more than an historic artifact, one where ideas and methods of production were to remain constant for centuries. It is also an idea that inspires designers working in international fashion houses. The NGV exhibition includes kimono-inspired works of Issey Miyake, Yohji Yamamoto, John Galliano, Comme des Garçon, Alexander McQueen, Givenchy, Zambesi and Rudi Gernreich. Alexander McQueen's Gown, belt and sandals (Dégradé) (2007) is one of the takeaway memories from this exhibition. The humble functional kimono has been totally transfigured. To the silk-satin shell there have been added leather, metal and rubber accessories and synthetic shoulder pads. The purple and pink color scheme and the sweeping sleeves that trail along the ground create a mesmerising and dominant phantom-like character that owns and dominates the space. It is difficult not to be impressed by McQueen's vision, but we have now moved quite a long way from the kimono. The kimono is a wonderful concept – an armature on which to hang many different ideas. The beauty of this exhibition is that it frees the idea of a garment from a static piece of cloth, at best to be displayed on a dummy, to something approaching a concept in design that artists will clasp and from which they will create their own work. There are many rich nuances in the show, for example the superb almost monochrome and somewhat gothic men's undergarment (nagajuban) with graveyard, skulls and crescent moon (c.1930). At the same time, we have women's kimono with geometric design and accessories (c.1930) with its polychrome exuberance with reds, blacks and grays combining geometric motifs with soft organic feather-like forms. Basho's 'blossom-kimono' was a meditation on the passing of time and the hope that a young girl will live to experience wrinkles that come with old age. The kimono in this exhibition celebrates the passing of time and generational change within the life of an immortal idea about function, form and ideas of beauty. Sasha Grishin is Adjunct Professor of Art History, Australian National University. The Conversation is an independent and nonprofit source of news, analysis and commentary from academic experts. External Link © The Conversation
