Kimonos With A Bass Line

It was a hot, dry day. The Japanese matsuri (summer festival) was into its second and final day. The event was well organized and running smoothly. I squeezed my way into the stage area which was flooding with people. I managed to get a position against the wall between two others. The kimono fashion show was about half-way through.

The lanterns hung from across one wooden post to the other and were swaying gently from the indoor air movement. The auditorium was set up to reflect a traditional street festival. The attention from the audience could be felt like a cloud of invisible gas rising from the seating area. The bass was pulsing steadily as the ornate traditional kimonos were being watched patiently.

The scene was set up as a changing room, with a lady in a kimono having her hair styled and the other lady having her kimono checked. The scene ran for too long without much change in activity. The music pulsed continuously. When the scene was over, one of the ladies wearing a kimono was visible chatting with a friend just outside the door of the auditorium after she exited the stage. The "real" backstage scene was now visible providing an extension of the already long scene.

A baby started wailing. The mother hustled out through the dense crowd to put an end to the disruption. Her face was pinched toward the middle in stress from the guilt. The surrounding onlookers could feel a sort of dull collective agreement about the illustrative style of the situation.

Maybe the peripheral activity provided slightly more entertainment than the show at that point. There was a loud bang the people around me looked toward the back of the room. Measuring six people down from where I was standing a balloon was stepped on. It was like the bursting balloon was an unplanned expression of our thoughts breaking the silent patience of our watching: "Let's put an end to this pulsing bass - the kimonos are beautiful - but the bass must end."

 (I have to mention here that although I make a poke at the show for the sake of humour, this was only one aspect of the show. In its entirety, the presentation was clearly a product of much work and effort. The kimonos really were stunning and the show was well done. There was much to be enjoyed and appreciated. When I clapped at the end - it was sincere.)


Mike Sasaki's wood forms can always be seen at mikesasaki.com