After a test run at the University, I packed up my new inflatable suit, Big Red, and boarded the local train bound for Sakae in Nagoya, Japan. Sakae is a trendy shopping district and also has a large central park that runs north south through the city. Because of its central location many aspiring musicians, festivals, activists, takoyaki (breaded octopus) stands, and other people looking for a good time gather here. Everyone is looking for some Japanese magic.

Within one minute of flipping the switch on the 12v blower motors that power my suit, a group of young Japanese cyclists came over to investigate the ever increasing size of the red inflatable suit. The questions began in rapid fire succession, “What is that?” my answer, “It’s a suit.” again a question, “What is that?” answer, “It’s a suit.” again, “No, what is it?” final answer, “It’s a suit, and I will put it on right now.” I proceeded to hoist the large suit upon my shoulders and filled out the traffic corner. Instantly cell phones and other video recording devices went into overdrive and traffic stopped as I stepped into the crosswalk to begin my journey sourthward through the park.

The group of bicycle messengers invited me to a bicycle event, and since I am crazy about bicycles I went along. There were about ten cyclists as we made our procesion past many bands and food stands finally ariving at a more open area. This suit could be called a “pied piper” suit because children are drawn to it like magic and then stick to it like struggling insects on fly paper. Children caused new complications for this performance. The big red cones enticed the children to reach out and grab them as they swayed back and forth. This caused problems as a small sixty pound child could use the leverage gained by pulling on the cone and almost bring me to the ground. I tried to instruct the kids not to engage in this activity but short attention spans won out and we locked into a perpetuating dual.

After hanging out around the bike kids I decided to continue my journey southward. I reached a raised highway and turned left. Here the sidewalk narrowed and I turned my suit sideways in an attempt to squeeze through. Street lamps, traffic signals, bicycles, pedestrians, and other obstructions in the city made the journey difficult, but wherever I passed everyone ceased their activities and glued their faces to storefront windows to see my bounding redness pass by. Eventually I made my way to Tsurumai Park (鶴舞公園). Here I circled a fountain with a small band of children following step by step. Many parents had trouble getting their offspring to continue on their intended journey rather than remain captivated by my absurd presence. The first trial run of Big Red was a great success.

Today I met with Kawaguti Norimitsu (川口智慎) to go see a public art project that he just completed at a new grade school in Nagakute. The sculpture titled, 水の記憶 (Water Recollection), is meant to move in the rain and it rained the entire time that I rode my bicycle to the university to meet him, but when Kawaguti and I arrived at the site the rain had stopped. Since the school was still under construction we were required to wear hard hats.

The Japanese school year starts in April so the construction is down to the wire. In America we have urban sprawl and the same is true in Japan. The Japanese call this the Donut Effect because the central city thins out and the population occupies a dense ring surrounding an empty core. In Japan it is fueled by the desire to own a “My Home.” “My” becomes a prefix for personal or western items. In bowling it is “My Ball” and “My Shoes” instead of the Japanese, Watashi no kutsu. We say tofu and tsunami in the states in the same manner. Peculiarities of language are fascinating.

The school that the sculpture is in is a very contemporary design decided upon through a competition between architectural firms. Most grade schools in Japan are sparse concrete structures consisting of three stories. The lead architect of this project insisted that there be only two stories. The building sports stainless steel at any opportunity and has a wonderful blend of modern materials and simple Japanese forms. All schools in Japan have ample places for the children to wash their hands unlike the few stations inside the restrooms in American schools. Another feature of note is a second floor pool.

Kawaguti received the commission through a competitive process which is somewhat special in Japan. Many commissions are given through a known network of artists, architects and planners. Kawaguti gave me an in depth explanation of the process that he went through. Hopefully this will help me approach different projects in the future.

The work has eight stainless steel cylinders on top of which are poised shiplike aluminum structures with stainless steel spouts in their bows. Each vessel is carefully balanced so that as it fills with water it will reach a tipping point and spill its contents into the next vessel in a cascading motion. If I had class in a room with a view of this I am sure I would not have paid attention to the teacher. I helped him take off the blue protective plastic and he mounted a nameplate at the corner of the site. Now all that is necessary it a good rain and I am sure the rainy season will take care of that.