Triassic Treat

          If you are at a loss for something to do this month, you might consider a trip to the incredible dinosaur exhibition currently on show at the A.T.C. The Dawn of the Dinosaurs is a treat for all the family, even those who are not that crazy about dinosaurs. The title is apt since this exhibition spans the Triassic Era from 245 to 208 million years ago. The first dinosaurs began to appear around 228 million years ago, the middle of the Triassic Era. These were not the giant dinosaurs which were to dominate the Jurassic Era (208 to 146 million years ago), but they are large and frightening enough to make for a dramatic exhibition.

          The foyer of the exhibition hall is graced by the fearsome presence of a dynamically posed franrascus, at eight metres long one of the largest dinosaurs of the Triassic Era. Positioned as he is beside a spiral staircase, one is treated to a full 360 degree view of this awesome creature from above and below. You certainly wouldn't get such an opportunity if this monster were as real as he appears to be. 

          The first exhibit you encounter upon entering the museum is this skeleton of a dikinodon. This model sets the tone for the entire exhibition. In the darkness of the museum, the stark lighting gives this skeleton an overwhelming sense of drama, although the posture is less dynamic than that of most of the other exhibits. This lack of animation is made up for by the presence of some impressive C.G. footage presented on one of the many large digital T.V. screens which provide an added dimension to many of the other exhibits.

          A better example of the kind of dynamic posing on display at this exhibition is seen in this photograph of the ferocious herrarausaurus which greets you as you enter the second room. This is one of the many dinosaurs caught in what the photographer Henri Cartier-Bresson called the "decisive moment," giving one the feeling that at any moment these creatures might suddenly leap into action. It is testimony to the high level of artistry of the craftsmen responsible for these exhibits that, for all their scientific accuracy and anatomical precision, they have seemingly been rendered by an auteur of theatre, cinema, photography and drama.

          Another fine example of dramatic lighting and the "decisive moment" is this exhibit portraying a franrascus running down the eighteen meter long remesaurus, the largest dinosaur in this exhibition. Look into the franrascus' "eyes" and you can see exactly what his next move is going to be, can't you? If not, the C.G. movie presented alongside this exhibit shows the entire course of this hunt, from first sighting to bloody, fatal end.

          This diorama shows a family of exaeratodons. The exaeratodon is one of the mammalian creatures which arose during the Carnian-Age of the Upper Triassic. These rather ugly herbivores are clearly oblivious to the fact that they are about to become the focus of a pitched battle between a hungry frenguillaurus and a ravenous dikinidon, arguably the most dramatic of all the scenes portrayed in the exhibition.

          The encounter seen above makes a dramatically and chronologically appropriate climax to the exhibition set, as it is, near the close of the Carnian-Age which marked the end of the Triassic Era. This era ended with an event, possibly a comet or meteor impacting the Earth, which wiped out many of the creatures which had dominated the Triassic Era. This left me eagerly anticipating the exhibitions which could follow this stunning opening episode of an epic trilogy. I now look forward to "Daytime of the Dinosaurs" for the Jurassic Era (208 million years ago to 146 million years ago) and "Twilight of the Dinosaurs" for the Cretacious Era (146 million years ago to 65 million years ago.) I, for one, cannot wait. Be there, or be extinct!

Balance

         This is Abiki-koen, a run-of-the-mill kind of park such as might be seen in any Japanese town.  Nevertheless, it is about this park and the events which transpired there this day that I have chosen to write about.

          Truth be told, nothing particularly remarkable occurred. For certain, today could not qualify as the "big event" for which I was waiting to blog about. However, the mundane nature of the day is one of the most significant determinants in my decision to commit my musings to electronic perpetuity.

          Quite simply, today was a perfect day. The weather was ideal for a day at the park with my kids; warm enough to wear the lightest of garments, yet not so oppressively hot as to make the most meagre physical exertion seem intolerable. The weather alone would have been enough to have set me into a positive frame of mind. Add to that the particularly good behaviour of my children today - studying finished in good time, hair and teeth brushed sans admonitions, the absence of bickering - then it is not surprising that I was soon lulled into a state of reverie. The purr of the postman's moped, the soothing trickle of the fountain, the whirr of bicycle chains clicking over sprockets, the gentle laughter of children, the shuffling of tiny training shoes scuffing the sandy ground, the distant cawing of crows and the flutter of pigeon wings - all these sounds coalesced to form the auditory equivalent of a soporific massage.

          Along with the sounds, the sights in the park also transpired to mollify my mind. The sunlight seemed to transfigure each surface which it floated down upon. I was struck by the countless shades of green mottling a certain tree, by the aesthetic, Pre-Raphaelite precision with which the yellowing leaves seemed to have been placed amongst the green, the way the sunlight dispersed through the branches creating ethereal striations, and how it sparkled upon the cobwebs which veiled a nearby bush.

          Amidst this enveloping, sensual scenery were performed a profusion of enticing dramas. My heart warmed to the elderly gentlemen who wandered around the park picking up the occasional piece of litter and placing it gently into the bin. A sense of pride overwhelmed me as Valerie and Arthur swung their way across the entire length of the monkey bars for the first time ever. I smiled as I watched a grandmother and her grandson investigating, with intense fascination, the markings on the molted feather of a pigeon. Arthur and his friends exploring the hidden, insect inhabited worlds uncovered by the removal of a brick which marked the boundaries of a flower bed. A lithe and graceful cartwheeling girl, obviously more adept at ballet than her spirited brothers, attempting to join them in their tree-climbing adventures. She couldn't even make it to the first branch, but at least she tried before spinning and cartwheeling away into her elegant abstractions. I was fascinated by the seemingly endless variety of games which could be played using a ball attached to a piece of elastic; a variation on freeze-tag with the ball as a projectile hand; a planet orbiting a solar Valerie; a ground-skimming, rotating skipping rope and many other adaptations. Arthur insisting that a dragon lived inside a park light - I would not discourage such a belief - and drawing so much joy from the simple act of riding someone else's bicycle around the park for a change.

The dragon's lair

A microcosm awaits the eager explorer beneath these bricks

          As I said, today was not particularly momentous. The harmonious feeling of oneness in which I was swathed was certainly no epiphany. I was in a park, not set upon the road to Damascus. However, the day did present me with a gentle reminder that we are the momentary residents of a world overflowing with a bounteous array of wonders and that, amidst the bustle and cacophony of modern life, we need, from time to time, to open ourselves up to the so often overlooked delights that abound. As such, today was very ordinary; ordinary in the most magical and miraculous sense of the word.

We Only Need The Knobbly Knees

            "Oh well, at least it's not hot and sunny." That was my first thought upon waking up on Sunday, October 3rd. The cause of this dour appraisal; my impending participation in the annual Imazu Region Sports Day. Anyone who has ever experienced a Japanese School Sports Day will appreciate the arduous nature of this rite. The merciless sun pounding down upon your head and reflected upward from the sand covered playing field that parches your throat as you endure the seemingly endless opening speeches that precede the interminable round of unfathomable games and suspense free relay races while awaiting the fleeting, distant glimpses of your own offspring's performance. As delightful as those moments are, they cannot quite balance the tremendous expenditure of effort required to attain them. So the prospect of actually participating in the Imazu Region Sports Day myself seemed doubly disagreeable.

             Thankfully, my desultory attitude toward this event soon melted away upon my arrival at the school. The enthusiastic smiles of all involved, grandparents to grandchildren, the eagerness with which everybody helped out in whatever way they could to guarantee the success of the event, the laughter of the children as they played together under the gazebos..... it was all so adorably infectious.

              OK, so the introductory speeches - all four of them - did drag on, but what followed was a paradise of kitsch . A young, sprightly teacher took to the stage to lead four generations of the young at heart in the rajio taiso, or radio exercises, which seem to be imbedded in the psyche of every single Japanese person. The tune, barely audible under a sea of hisses and scratches, seemed to be emanating from a warped 78 r.p.m. disc rotating upon some grandpa's first-owned gramophone. Anybody who thinks that Japan is all high-tech need not scrape too hard to find the pre-World War II lifestyle which still thrives beneath the glossy facade.

          It was while abandoning myself to the faintly ridiculous faux-eurythmic exercise routine that it dawned upon me just why I was enjoying this all so much. The breeze block structure of the school. The tinny sound system. The seemingly effortless determination on the part of all involved to enjoy the day no matter how idiotic it might all seem. The silly games enjoyed by all, no matter how old or young, with such uninhibited and ingenuous spirit, reminded me of all the fun I used to have as a child when holidaying at Butlins Holiday Camp. All that was missing was the Knobbly Knees Competition and the Glamorous Granny Pageant. We were even blessed with the grey skies of a British summer and a torrential downpour to close the event. We didn't need any Red Coats to lead us in chants of "Hi-Di-Hi." This affair was organised and lead by the campers themselves, and a resounding success it was.

                If anybody believes that the community spirit has been forever lost to solitary, alienating leisure pursuits, crime, the disintegration of the extended family by geographic and social mobility, dysfunctional children unable to interact with anything not equipped with a mouse or a joystick, or any other of the countless social ills which are said to be eroding the World War II spirit which was once said to thrive in Britain, then they should come to Japan and witness the all-embracing fraternity which spread joy to all under the gloriously grey sky that day.  It was magical.

                The only thing I must add, in the spirit of communal harmony, is that we, the Imazu Ohigashi team, trashed the other competitors. "Hi-Di-Hi, Ho-Di-Ho!!"

Tentative Decisions

So, this is blogging. It is like stepping onto a stage with no scenery, no props, no script and an auditorium packed with ghosts; expectant, potentially hostile and invisible. What have I done? What should I say? For now, I do not know. I'll clap. Outstanding acoustics. No groans from the phantoms. I'll whisper something inane. "Testing. Testing. One two. One two." Silence. Not sinister, almost comforting. Dare I venture a mighty yawp? Not yet. But I will say, "Hello!" Louder. "HELLO!" I liked that. Now, exit stage left to work on the script. I'll be back.

(Echoing footsteps slowly fade away.)