The Last of the Samurai

Note the "of the" in the title.

Yesterday after Japanese lessons, I scarfed down a Panera sandwich and then walked over to the Japanese Consulate in Chicago for the opening of the Last of the Samurai photographic exhibition, held in honor of the 150th anniversary of the Meiji Restoration. The opening event had a few extras arranged by the consulate, so while I initially figured I'd just go after work some day, I thought since I was already downtown, why not?

Like a boss.

The photographs depict the 1860 Japanese Embassy to the United States, sent by the shogunate shortly after the Black Ships arrived in Japan, and the 1873 Iwakura Mission sent by the new Meiji government. That particular picture is from the Iwakura mission and the central figure is Iwakura Tomomi (岩倉具視) himself, after whom the embassy was named.

He also had his topknot cut while he was in Chicago, finally breaking with the court-nobility-dictated style of his ancestors.

After some brief remarks by Miro Ito, co-organizer of the project and whose great-great-grandfather Nakahara Naosuke had worked on the Iwakura Mission's ships, and an introduction by Consul-General Naoki Ito (no relation), who was wearing a Cubs pin despite his expressed policy of usually maintaining official neutrality in the Cubs/White Sox war, we got to the good part. There was a brief lecture by a Professor Thomas Gaubatz of Northwestern University, who talked about clothing styles. After some background that I already knew, about the kamishimo court formalwear and the less-formal hakama and haori ensemble as well as the Tokugawa sumptuary laws, Professor Gaubatz moved on to talking about the changes that occurred in fashion due to the Meiji Restoration. Japanese society settled on Western-style formalwear as the default business and political garb relatively quickly, spurred by the Meiji Emperor's decision to wear a Prussian-style military uniform rather than traditional court clothing, but for a few years it was a riot of experimentation. There were several pictures from a book titled 浮雲 (ukigumo, "The Drifting Cloud") that showed students wearing kimono along with a stylish bowler's hat, and one that showed the central character in a suit with frock coat sitting seiza at his writing desk. The professor also described pictures he had seen of men in kimono over a collared shirt and cravat, wearing leather shoes, which sounds like something I've seen in a tokyofashion post. I kind of wish that experimentation had won out over wholesale adoption of Western fashion except in very particular circumstances.

After all the speeches was a dance performance by Shunso, a ballet performer with the National Ballet of the Czech Republic and a third-dan Iaidō practitioner. I admittedly haven't seen much ballet, but it felt more like the latter than the former, all economy of motion, slow and deliberate gestures, and occasional explosions of force when drawing and swinging the sword, accompanied by a soundtrack of bells, flute, and natural sounds like rain, the crackling of fire, and stones rubbing against each other. I didn't take any pictures because I'm not a philistine, but I kind of wish I had. It was beautiful. The only problem was that I was seated behind the podium and kept having to shift around to see what was happening.

The evening ended with sushi and drinks, and I grabbed a plate of sushi and ate it before leaving. I didn't know anyone else at the event--a lot of people there sounded like they came to many of the Japan Information Center's events, or were students or colleagues of Professor Gaubatz--so I didn't have anyone to talk to, but the nice thing about a lecture and performance is that you're not supposed to talk during it.

I'll definitely be going to future JIC events. Maybe I'll find someone to talk to.