This is not an epiphany: Anime is an art form unto itself. Many people think of them as simply cartoons in the same way people used to look at comic books as pulp. We visited two museums today, both featured anime (Japanese animated shows for the unenlightened). One was s very upscale museum at the top of Roppongi Hills tower and the other is a full time museum dedicated to Studio Ghibli. We didn't plan to run the gamut of seeing the progress of production from old-school to new anime in one day, it just serendipitously happened that way.
Xiomara referred to the Studio Ghibli Museum tour as the capstone of our trip. It is absolutely a must if you're going to Tokyo and not just for fans of the anime movies produced by Ghibli. This place is accidentally an homage to one of the greatest imagineers of cinema. Xiom said this was her Disneyworld. Indeed, the parallels don't end there. Hayao Miyazaki is the man the universe replaced in the vacuum of pure imagination left upon Walt Disney's death. He is the reason Studio Ghibli exists. This museum's rooms were designed by Miyazaki. The artwork and art installations were either painted or are reproductions from his own hands. It's not that he's a control freak: he loves doing it. He didn't work on the museum for the notoriety, he wants to light a stick of dynamite and blow your imagination back into child-like wonder. He built this place as a long standing monument for fans, all of his staff, and all of their works. However, the entire time it feels like you're walking around in some etherspace of Hayao Miyazaki's spirit of exploring worlds which were, or have yet to be, imagined.
If you've never thought about how animation is (was) made, the exhibits and art installations take you beautifully from the concepts of moving pictures to the end of a finished animated movie. Initially, we start with examples of early handheld zoetrope moving pictures and move on to a massive modern strobelight carousel zoetrope (all of the pieces were hand painted by Miyazaki). We spent a long time just watching the carousel spin up, strobe (to create the illusion of all sorts of characters bouncing, flying, jumping rope, or running in counter directions even though they're all a single structure), and then slow to a stop over and over. I know the scientific principles, I know the process, yet I had a brain-fail trying to comprehend the simplicity of this this thing, the complexity of its design, and the patience required to give proper attention to every detail.
Also in this room, a continuous loop of film the length of a football field zig zags around pulleys and art to play a three minute animated short about evolution, the food chain, and love. The connection to vintage trinkets is apparent. Without them, we'd never have strobing projectors. Ergo, no movies.
In another room, a replica of Miyazaki's office complete with a Panasonic jam box, cup of coffee, ash tray, and some of the (hand painted) backgrounds used in Studio Ghibli's feature films. There is the 60's era camera which they used to film cartoon cells flipping over the background paintings to make the scene "move" using hand cranks. You can look through the camera viewfinder and create a sweeping shot by using one crank to move the camera down towards the pictures and another to scroll one of Miyazaki's background paintings. OMG overload.
Then there's the dioramas in the House of Ghibli: a dollhouse facade with windows peeking into a scene from every movie made by the studio... hand painted by Miyazaki. The ceiling fan blades are plane wings (planes and flying things are a recurring theme in Ghibli films). The gift shop is modelled after a tavern from Porco Rosso. The roof is designed from Laputa: Castle in the Sky. The kids play room has a plush Catbus to crawl around in (we're to old, they wouldn't let us on it) The ticket office is from My Neighbor Totoro. Everything is a reference, and now Xiomara wants to remodel our house.
To describe the museum as inspiring does not begin to cover it. Think of your old favorite Disney cartoons; the old ones where everything was still drawn in real ink. Now imagine Walt could share with you what inspired his inspirational processes. Imagine he didn't "tell you" as much as he sent you on a journey through his own creations. That is the best I can do to capture this place in words. I read Xiomara's post, and it still doesn't reflect our experience adequately with pictures.
Miyazaki himself says that he wants to work here when he retires, which is regrettably this year after Ghibli's last movie, The Wind Rises, is translated. Miyazaki has a fascination with planes and I have a feeling this one will almost be an autobiographical feature film from Studio Ghibli. His opus. He has retired before, but I think he means it this time. Besides, now he has this place. This museum is not somewhere you never want to leave. It sort of hugs you warmly and then sends you out to go find the wonder in the world on your own.
