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Wanted: 30,000 animators. Japan's anime future at risk

Wanted: 30,000 animators. Japan's anime future at risk

Nikkei Asia18 hours ago

TOKYO -- Aina Sugisawa's story of getting her foot in the door of Japan's anime industry is one studios hope to replicate. After studying at an academy run by Tokyo-based TMS Entertainment, she went to work for the studio as a contract employee.
Sugisawa, who has been in the industry for a year now, recalls watching the end credits of the latest installment of the long-running Detective Conan series, "One-eyed Flashback," at a theater earlier this year. One of the names that scrolled by was her own.

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Wanted: 30,000 animators. Japan's anime future at risk
Wanted: 30,000 animators. Japan's anime future at risk

Nikkei Asia

time18 hours ago

  • Nikkei Asia

Wanted: 30,000 animators. Japan's anime future at risk

TOKYO -- Aina Sugisawa's story of getting her foot in the door of Japan's anime industry is one studios hope to replicate. After studying at an academy run by Tokyo-based TMS Entertainment, she went to work for the studio as a contract employee. Sugisawa, who has been in the industry for a year now, recalls watching the end credits of the latest installment of the long-running Detective Conan series, "One-eyed Flashback," at a theater earlier this year. One of the names that scrolled by was her own.

Kazutaka Ozawa: ‘The best wine is the one that brings you joy'
Kazutaka Ozawa: ‘The best wine is the one that brings you joy'

Japan Times

timea day ago

  • Japan Times

Kazutaka Ozawa: ‘The best wine is the one that brings you joy'

The first time Kazutaka Ozawa tasted Champagne, he was just a child. Sitting in a French restaurant surrounded by family and laughter, he was drawn to the aroma from the glass: delicate, floral and something close to magic. It would take years before he entered the world of wine professionally, but that early memory left an imprint. Wine had become a synecdoche for great memories — time spent with loved ones over great food. Now, more than two decades into his career, Ozawa is one of Japan's most respected sommeliers. At Tokyo's two-Michelin-starred Crony, the modern French restaurant he co-owns with chef Michihiro Haruta, his thoughtful, intuitive pairings form the backbone of the dining experience. For his stellar work, he was recognized as Asia's Best Sommelier at this year's Asia's 50 Best Restaurants awards. Following up on his win, Ozawa spoke to The Japan Times about his favorite sips, the future of Japanese wine and Tokyo's wine trends. Ozawa was recognized as Asia's Best Sommelier at this year's Asia's 50 Best Restaurants awards. | ASIA'S 50 BEST RESTAURANTS How did you first become interested in wine? I didn't plan to become a sommelier. In high school, I started working at a French restaurant in Tokyo called Apicius. It was known for top-tier service, and the sommeliers there were always studying and tasting wine. But back then, many sommeliers spoke in a way that felt very technical, using jargon that went over my head. I connected more with the service staff who created a great atmosphere for guests. Eventually, I joined the Four Seasons Hotel Marunouchi in 2002, where I started handling wine, and that's where it all really began. You then went to work at Kenzo Estate in Napa Valley in 2005. What did that experience teach you? That wine is an agricultural product, a living thing. When I joined, I thought I'd just be helping export wine to Japan, but they encouraged me to be involved in everything, from viticulture to vinification. It was the first time I saw how physically demanding and emotional the work is. It completely changed the way I see wine. A whole year goes into growing grapes, and it's mostly done by hand. I used to judge wine by vintages or scores, but now, even in a so-called (bad vintage) year, I think about how much effort the farmers put in. What kind of wines are you drawn to? Since I often eat Japanese food, I tend to gravitate toward complementary wines, in particular Champagne and Burgundy. Champagne has a special place in my heart, not only because of my childhood memory but because its elegance works beautifully with Japanese dishes. I also love red and white Burgundy. That said, with climate change and rising prices, I've started exploring other regions — Sussex in England for sparkling wine, and pinot noir from Switzerland and Germany, which have become really good in recent years and are still relatively accessible. What are your thoughts on Japanese wines? I think people are starting to choose them simply because they taste good. It's not just about supporting local products anymore. The quality has improved so much, and demand has really grown in the past five years, even among consumers abroad. Right now at Crony, we have around 40 Japanese wines on the list. Whenever I have time, I visit local wineries to learn more. The interior of the two-Michelin-starred Crony has a cozy, Scandinavian vibe. | CRONY Do you have any favorite domestic varieties? Koshu and Muscat Bailey A. For Koshu, I recommend Aruga Branca Isehara from Katsunuma Winery in Yamanashi. It's a beautifully made wine, and I believe it holds up on the world stage. The red Muscat Bailey A is often misunderstood because it can sometimes have an overpowering flavor. But in the hands of the right winemaker, it's fantastic. I especially like what Tsuno Wine in Kyushu is doing with it. There's also a unique wine from Suntory, Wa no Tsumugi, a blend of Muscat Bailey A and merlot: It balances the light body of Muscat Bailey A with the structure of merlot. What's even more interesting is their version aged in mizunara (Japanese oak) barrels, which are usually used for whisky production. Those barrels are difficult to work with — they can leak if the wood isn't mature — but they add a soft spiciness that's completely unique. What are some recent trends in Tokyo's wine scene? There's still a solid group of people who drink the classics — Champagne, Burgundy and Bordeaux — but younger generations often haven't had the opportunity to taste them as those wines have become very expensive. Instead, a lot of them are discovering natural wine , which has become a big trend over the last decade. At first, it was all about the label — people would drink natural wine just because it was 'natural' — but now the movement has matured. There's more diversity in the wine and the people drinking them. But at the same time, there's still a lack of understanding of natural wine among many sellers and consumers. Apart from the natural wine trend, there's also a shift toward less alcohol consumption. How are restaurants adapting? It's a real issue. Food revenue is fixed — guests pay a set amount for a meal course, so beverage sales are critical for business. When guests don't drink, we feel (the revenue loss). That's why more restaurants are developing nonalcoholic pairings that are as thoughtful as the wine options; I've been experimenting with such pairings myself. I used to think nonalcoholic drinks weren't all that exciting, but after meeting a tea specialist in Taiwan, I realized how much tea and wine share in terms of complexity and nuance. We've started doing pairings with Japanese teas, such as matching Shizuoka's shincha (tea from the first harvest) with snap peas and clams: The tea, which is cold-brewed, has a sweet-salty taste that complements the minerality of the clams. We also pair pinot noir juice from Hokkaido's Domaine Takahiko with Ezo venison loin as the juice's clean acidity goes well with the juicy meat. These pairings represent a new challenge but one that's worth pursuing. Speaking of nonalcoholic options, some sommeliers are creating mocktails with kombucha or fermented ingredients. Do you take that approach? Mocktails open up a lot of creative options, but I want to make sure that whatever I serve respects the producer's intent. I believe that wine — or tea or juice — should have a story, just like the dish it's paired with. If I start blending (ingredients) too much, I worry that I'll dilute that meaning, so I haven't taken the mocktail route yet. Do you think traditional wine rules are still relevant, like the idea that red wine doesn't go with fish? Not really. Those rules are outdated. For example, oysters — everyone says you have to drink them with white wine but, depending on the variety of the mollusk, red or rose wine can be a great match. In southern France, people drink rose with oysters all the time, and in Bordeaux, they even pair them with reds. Some seafood, like caviar or oysters, have a bit of tannin, and pairing them with a light red can really elevate the experience. In Japan, a lot of people still say, 'Cheese goes with red wine,' but in Switzerland, most people match it with white wine. There's a lot of misinformation out there. But that's changing. Today, more people are studying wine, and younger guests are more open-minded. They're curious, and when we suggest something, they're willing to try it. Despite what conventional rules tell you, red wine can be paired with oysters, says Ozawa. | GETTY IMAGES Any recommended spots in Tokyo for beginners who want to explore wine? Crony, of course! But if you're into French cuisine, Esquisse in Ginza and Ryuzu in Roppongi are fantastic. Both places have outstanding sommeliers, and the food is great. What other tips do you have for wine beginners? A lot of people drink wine with their heads and judge it by its technical details. But I want people to enjoy the act of drinking — to discover what they actually like, not what they're told they should like. In the end, the best wine is the one that brings you joy.

At Tokyo Pride's first queer art exhibition, intimacy and resistance share the wall
At Tokyo Pride's first queer art exhibition, intimacy and resistance share the wall

Japan Times

time2 days ago

  • Japan Times

At Tokyo Pride's first queer art exhibition, intimacy and resistance share the wall

On the third floor of Tokyu Plaza Harajuku's Harakado space, the inaugural Queer Art Exhibition — one of the main events of Tokyo Pride 2025 — unfurls as both celebration and reflection. With 36 works by 30 LGBTQ+ and allied artists, the show presents a broad spectrum of media: painting, photography, illustration, mixed media — and an equally wide spectrum of voices. The result is less a tightly curated gallery show than a spirited, grassroots salon: uneven, but moving. The range of artistic quality is as wide as the range of mediums, and that goes for the messaging as well. While some pieces are fairly predictable — rainbow flags in various settings (one work is simply a painted flag) — others are intricate, formally sophisticated art objects. These standout pieces offer layered social commentary on what it means to live as an LGBTQ+ individual in Japan today, while also showcasing the technical and conceptual ingenuity of their creators. Organized through an open-call submission process, the exhibition is crowdsourced in the best sense, shaped by community rather than institution. That openness extends to the structure: visitors are invited to vote for the Tokyo Rainbow Pride Award, a ¥100,000 prize granted by public decision. Donations and artwork sales go directly to the artists themselves. In its structure and spirit, this is a show designed not just to exhibit queer art but to empower queer artists. 'Ordinary' by moriuo | ©TOKYO PRIDE 2025 Among the more resonant pieces is 'Ordinary' by moriuo, a painting drawing lightly on comic-book style, depicting a young male couple hand-in-hand by the ocean as a train passes in the background — perhaps in Kamakura. The image is seen through the eyes of an older gay man, who never had the freedom to express love so openly. 'I wish you could see this view ... this time that has finally come,' reads the artist's quietly devastating caption. It's a moment of tenderness across generations — a reckoning with what was once impossible. Noumra's 'In My Closet' turns introspection into visual poetry. A large, cutout panel painted in exquisite detail, it features the face of a bearded man surrounded by a wreath of flowers, foliage and a fox-like creature whispering into his ear. The face is serene. Here, the 'closet' is not a site of repression but a blooming inner landscape — a place where identity takes root. Noumra rejects outward signifiers of queerness and instead renders the closet as a space of psychological richness, where pride grows inside before reaching the surface. 'わたしたちの生活' ('Watashi-tachi no Seikatsu,' 'Our Lives') by Moe Kano | ©TOKYO PRIDE 2025 Moe Kano's photographic collage 'わたしたちの生活' ('Watashi-tachi no Seikatsu,' 'Our Lives') also echoes a commitment to pride via smaller gestures. A collection of slice-of-life, candid domestic moments shared with her partner — boxed lunches packed, rooms lived in, messes left uncleaned — it resists spectacle in favor of truth. 'We argue. We disagree. Sometimes we're broke,' she writes. 'But we're together.' The work gently insists that queer love doesn't need to be extraordinary to be valid. Then there are pieces that pierce more directly. Kazutaka Nagashima's '玫瑰少年' ('Meigui Shonan,' 'Rose Boy'), a gorgeous woodblock print, memorializes Yeh Yung-chih, a Taiwanese queer teenager who died as a result of bullying. Nagashima merges a rose tattoo motif with printmaking in an aching tribute. 'I could have ended up like him,' he confesses, reminding us survival can be political. '玫瑰少年' ('Meigui Shonan,' 'Rose Boy') by Kazutaka Nagashima | ©TOKYO PRIDE 2025 Natsuki Yoshida's trio of partially monochrome paintings — rooted in manga — traces lesbian romance with emotional clarity and quiet intensity. Through tender embraces, haunted gazes, and symbols like smoke and floating neck halos, these works capture the intimacy between young women, and also the beauty, hesitation and ache of desire in a world still learning how to hold it. Otokokokoto's '屁' ('He,' 'Fart') is a playful standout, a mixed-media depiction of a man in a public bath. Both irreverent and strangely tender, the work turns bodily humor into a bold artistic gesture. Queer art, it turns out, can embrace absurdity and the delightfully unserious. Taken together, these works form a constellation of perspectives — some polished, some raw, all urgent in their own way. And in this mix lies the true strength of the exhibition. Because it is crowdfunded and community-sourced, the show makes no claim to curatorial perfection. But it does succeed, powerfully, in reflecting a grassroots artistic community in all its heartfelt and irreducible complexity. The overall message is one of unity and inclusion: Everyone is welcome. The Queer Art Exhibition at Tokyu Plaza Harajuku's Harakado, runs through June 18. For more information, visit

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