Day 29: (40 km) Nagano - Obuse - Chikuma
(08/27/06)
Back on the bikes at last. This morning we met Kanai Kazuyoshi, our guide, and headed off to Obuse town along a pleasant river cycling path. Coming over a rise into town, we were met by two photographers, complete with cycle jerseys and bike shorts, crouching in the bushes, snapping away at us. Passing them, we pulled into the michi no eki/highway museum to a line of people applauding us and a paper banner welcoming us to Obuse Town. All this for just forty kilometers.
Over the next two hours, the fine folk of Obuse took us on a relaxed tour of the town, passing through small orchards of apples, pears, and chestnuts on our way to Ganshouin-ji, a Soto Zen temple that houses a 21 tatami mat sized painting by Hokusai. The eighty something priest came out to explain the painting, but I was more impressed by his youth and vitality. How much, I wonder, is from a lifetime of practicing zen?
After the temple, we were escorted to the Hokusai Museum. Best known for his Thirty Six Views of Mt Fuji, Hokusai is probably the most well known Japanese artist, both here and in the west. Though he spent much of his life near Tokyo, Hokusai moved to Obuse at the age of 85 to further his work. It was a good, small museum, with a very personal feel that reminded me a bit of the Mucha Museum in Prague.
Being there brought back memories of visiting museums with E, and how strange it is to be in one without her. In Europe, it was something we would do together--the Mucha Museum, Museum of City History, Kunsthistorich Museum in Austria, the Cloth Market in Krakow. Experiencing art with someone you love is one of the most intimate ways to connect to each other. Every museum we visited in Europe was fascinating and vibrant because of the shared experience. I also thought about the summer after Prague, how hard it was to be at the Art Institute in Chicago knowing that something was going horribly wrong with our relationship. Even the most impressive works seemed unimportant, lifeless. Since we got back together we have visited a number of exhibits, but have only experienced that same feeling of intimacy at a few of them. It's taken me nearly three years to open myself up enough to share that connection again. Something tells me I'm ready to.
(08/27/06)
Back on the bikes at last. This morning we met Kanai Kazuyoshi, our guide, and headed off to Obuse town along a pleasant river cycling path. Coming over a rise into town, we were met by two photographers, complete with cycle jerseys and bike shorts, crouching in the bushes, snapping away at us. Passing them, we pulled into the michi no eki/highway museum to a line of people applauding us and a paper banner welcoming us to Obuse Town. All this for just forty kilometers.
Over the next two hours, the fine folk of Obuse took us on a relaxed tour of the town, passing through small orchards of apples, pears, and chestnuts on our way to Ganshouin-ji, a Soto Zen temple that houses a 21 tatami mat sized painting by Hokusai. The eighty something priest came out to explain the painting, but I was more impressed by his youth and vitality. How much, I wonder, is from a lifetime of practicing zen?
After the temple, we were escorted to the Hokusai Museum. Best known for his Thirty Six Views of Mt Fuji, Hokusai is probably the most well known Japanese artist, both here and in the west. Though he spent much of his life near Tokyo, Hokusai moved to Obuse at the age of 85 to further his work. It was a good, small museum, with a very personal feel that reminded me a bit of the Mucha Museum in Prague.
Being there brought back memories of visiting museums with E, and how strange it is to be in one without her. In Europe, it was something we would do together--the Mucha Museum, Museum of City History, Kunsthistorich Museum in Austria, the Cloth Market in Krakow. Experiencing art with someone you love is one of the most intimate ways to connect to each other. Every museum we visited in Europe was fascinating and vibrant because of the shared experience. I also thought about the summer after Prague, how hard it was to be at the Art Institute in Chicago knowing that something was going horribly wrong with our relationship. Even the most impressive works seemed unimportant, lifeless. Since we got back together we have visited a number of exhibits, but have only experienced that same feeling of intimacy at a few of them. It's taken me nearly three years to open myself up enough to share that connection again. Something tells me I'm ready to.
posted by Rob at 6:30 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home