On Saturday morning we dragged the entire family out of the house, jumped on a train, and headed towards Olympia in London – one of the biggest exhibition venues in the city.
“Hyper Japan” had landed in London once again – an exhibition and cultural showpiece for all things Japanese. The show floor was filled with food, drink, clothing, cookware, and all manner of pop-culture must-haves that an army of teens and twenty-somethings descended on like a rampaging horde.
It was all my fault of course – this fascination with anything and everything Japanese. When the kids were little we introduced them to the Studio Ghibli movies, and then to Manga and Anime.
They never looked back.
While perusing the hundreds of stalls, and spending a small fortune on prints, cookware, and whatever else, I suddenly heard something familiar, and left my other half to lean on a railing overlooking the main stage.
A young Japanese woman stood alone, playing various wind instruments to an orchestral soundtrack. I couldn’t put my finger on what she was playing for a few moments – and then suddenly it came to me.
“That’s Kiki’s Delivery Service!”
It was spellbinding – and brought half of the people on the exhibition floor to the stage – standing in raptured silence as she played the (famous in our house) music.
I searched when we got home – her name was Naho, and she plays with the English Jazz Orchestra – she lives in London, after growing up in Japan. She has no performances recorded on YouTube, but has a wonderful channel about her new life in London.
Here’s an original recording of the music she played:
(video)
When she finished, the hall exploded in thunderous applause.
We stayed on at the end of the day for the cosplay stage event – mostly to humour our youngest daughter and her friends that had come along with us. Before it started, I wondered how cringe-worthy it might be, but by the end I had become completely wrapped up in it all – clapping, and cheering for each brave soul that took to the stage to “be” their respective hero.
Something occurred to me while watching that will stay with me for some time. “Hyper Japan” – and perhaps “cosplay” as a “thing” gave a small army of people that perhaps don’t fit in so well a precious avenue for self expression – somewhere to be themselves – somewhere to be among “their tribe” – to not feel so alone.
I couldn’t stop smiling.
After all of those dressed in costumes had taken their turn to strut the stage, sing, act, or whatever else they had meticulously planned for months in front of bedroom mirrors, the judges conferred and started calling out award winners.
As the winners were summoned to the stage, I watched the line of hopeful faces in the wings. I suspected I knew who might win before any names were called – but something interesting happened first. The most boisterous, confident, and perhaps extrovert waiting in line couldn’t hide their excitement – grinning from ear to ear, becoming visibly excited as each name was called. As each person took to the stage to receive their award, their excitement fell away, replaced with glum reality. It was hard to watch.
While all of this was going on, a girl stood quietly towards the back of the group, applauding everybody else, and cheering them on. Her makeup, hair, costume, and demeanour were immaculate, and yet she seemed the most humble, and supportive of the entire group.
I remember – as they announced the overall winner – seeing her hands raise to her face in shock. It was a wonderful moment.
As we walked back towards the train station at the end of the day, I found myself wondering how many of those we saw in costume throughout the day had been bullied, or sidelined during their life for not comforming or fitting in. I wondered how brave those that took to the stage must have been, and I wondered if I might be able to find a few of them online to support their efforts in the future.
I’ve been thinking about this for a while.
I want to use at least a little of the money I make from the internet to “pay it forward” – to pick somebody each month that’s putting themselves out there in some way – and to support their efforts if I can.
It’s going to be fun.