Hirokazu Tategata

For instance, the preservation of beauty of spirit is affected without us even realising. Nowadays, even if we leave behind our daily routines we are still exposed to unpleasant sights and sounds.
[* bold typeface is Japan Fashion]

In my view, beauty within the world consists of two inseparable elements: there are poisons and goodness, madness and sorrow. It is this paradoxical coexistence that draws me to the world. To express it more carefully, for example gender-crossing, or an overwhelming ugliness antithetical to the beauty that conceals it - it is because things lay hidden that, I believe, beauty appears even more beguiling.

Surely such things are prevalent in our daily lives.
For instance, even this kind of performance is straightforward if everything runs smoothly. But from how I like to appreciate the world, I cannot doubt there are occasions when we have to persevere; to interact with those things we most dislike.

But whether that is part of living within society or inherent to the times we enjoy in life itself, like meeting someone pleasant or doing something satisfying: ultimately it feels as though perhaps reality is somehow escaping.

So, in reality, while we are faced with many of those things, how can we keep hold of what is pure in ourselves? It is that strength to protect what is untouched and unblemished which is, in the end, essential.

I believe that the capacity for kindness; touching another, and so on, is extremely fragile - it cannot be expressed unless we hold on to the strength, of mind as well, to continue to safeguard it from harm. However, carrying it becomes ever harder and being able to convey it to another even more so.

I can also be very negative. However, even when something unpleasant happens I eventually try to think how I can move on and bear it. I wonder if that is indeed a positive attitude, optimism perhaps.
Perhaps you are born optimistic, or it may develop through careful practice, or maybe it is enough to merely try and observe it from day to day.

What is that strength?

How do you define strength? In my own image, it isn't a thick, rigid thing. Something comparable to magnanimity.
Flexibility, I believe, is fundamental to it.
When I say I am strong, the strength does not constitute power but because I am strong the power falls away. I imagine that in some way strength is connected to attributes such as magnanimity.

I have also been told by many people to "ease up". When you're told to ease up, by and by, you adapt. I finally came to realize that the expression relates to latitude: having feelings to spare.

It's not to always do everything with stubborn exactness, but to be able to bend when the moment comes.

If you always bear the wind without the slightest movement, at some point eventually you will break, exhausted.
But if you feel the benevolence of the wind and enjoy in the delight of it, you can hold that strength firm and go on.

That suppleness, like magnanimity, to be able to recognize and accept the dimensions of yourself, the weaknesses and shortcomings: that, in my mind, is the origin of true strength.

To cry wholeheartedly when sad. Laugh rapturously when joyful. It feels like it reveals our compassion. It is what I too am striving for. That feeling.

Is that expressible through dance?

When I dance, I wonder what part of myself to liberate.
Is it set open or is it revealed?
To reveal myself, everything unpleasant, all my weaknesses, is like an act of defiance.

That spiritual state gradually surfaces as I'm being made-up, then when I dance my senses are truly screaming. Of course the theme varies depending on the performance, however while I'm performing it feels as though I vomit out the very foundations of myself: my daily anxieties and emotions.

In Japan most people probably don't know how to "vomit". Even when I push myself out I hesitate, over-think and then lose myself there. I'm left not having been able to fully communicate myself but above all, I feel like I haven't reached the highest state.

Expressing yourself, revealing yourself, I think is an immensely difficult act, after all the technique is still largely obscure.

Although I'm in a performance arts course at the Nihon University College of Art, in my own university days I took a drama class and was a poor student. The teacher would constantly tell me I was hopeless. As to be expected, I became afraid of plays and acting back then.

But at that time, there was this kind of musical club, where the members composed musicals. It was quite a serious group, pretty strict, but there were so many good seniors.

One of the club alumna was a member of Kayoko Nagura's jazz dance company. When she came to watch us practice she told me to dance and eventually dragged me to one of the lessons.

Until then I had never danced. Until I entered university. I still vividly remember the scales in my eyes the first time I was taken there.

A play is words. Until then, I was an agent of words. But in a world completely devoid of words, a place for physical expression alone, it was the first time I realised how wonderful it could be to express myself without them.

The pleasure of self-expression spurred me on after that and I attended dancing lessons in earnest. It was less about mastering dancing than having fun in a place I felt liberated.

Later, I gradually started getting work as a dancer, and it was at one particular job that I met Nezumi Imamura. He invited me to join his entertainment group, Convoy.

A Convoy show had songs, drama and, of course, dancing. I did some acting again, and reached the stage where I could probably do a solo show or a job without any dancing at all if the chance arose.

I had gone back to drama once more. To be honest though, that time was less about just acting and more about continuing to express myself through dance. I had found that channel and so, although I was back in acting, it was all completely different.

So, after all, to me self-expression is dance. I made the opportunity to dance. I discovered what it felt like to express myself.

At first sight then, although it seems like somewhat of a detour: my encounter with dance and the world of theatre, right now I think it provided me with a sense of how to express myself.

When you're able to grasp things such as self-expression then I believe anything is ok. There is the key.

I cannot forget how I felt then.
I wonder if I would have such talent if I had that kind of awareness.

I definitely believe that what is so special about him can be found in everyone. I think uniqueness is not for instance, what you consider is distinctive, attractive or engaging about yourself. Instead it is something everyone has, whether you become aware of it or not however, is the key.
Those who do recognize it are full of life: those who realize their uniqueness. But the people who are less sure about who they are and aren't able to easily find it usually go by trial and error.

It wasn't until during my twenties that I came to realize what was unique about myself and became more individual. Until then I was just another typical, well-mannered child. I would always do as I was told, study hard, and never disobey my parents. But although I was a good child there was nothing really appealing or individual about myself. In other words, I was simply a conscientious child.

I was not at all self-assured. Even after junior and senior high school I didn't know how to honestly express myself.

Even after I began dancing and discovered self-expression, I was surrounded by singers and back-up dancers during my first jobs. The so-called moving prop. But it could have been anyone. Anyway, I did those kinds of jobs, and happened to meet a friend at one who asked me, "What do you like?" I was taken a little by surprise when he asked and I wasn't sure if I didn't know what I liked or whether I just hadn't realized what it was that I liked.

Whether it was clothes, books, photos, or paintings - I didn't know what exactly I enjoyed. I was so used to doing what people said that I never really did as I wanted.

Following a friend's advice, I started putting the things I love, be it food or whatever, close to me. For example, I like these types of coffee mugs so I'll buy one and put it in my place. Perhaps I find a nice candle, doll or something perversely cute. Maybe a book or a photo album. When those kinds of things accumulate around me I'll be able to view them objectively. My so-called loves.

When you do that you're able to look at your own world objectively and begin to see your individuality.

I really believe it's good to keep things close to yourself. When you over think you start to wonder what it is. I think it's best not to think too much, so if today you feel like eating something sweet and you can't decide whether to have a Japanese sweet or a western sweet, just have the Japanese sweet. Then, if you wonder what Japanese sweet to have; just choose as you like.

That's the best approach I think . Although the hurdles get taller if you begin by putting things you're obsessed with around you, failure is all right.

I believe the occasions that you might call a failure are still totally valuable. Even if you fail but you can reiterate to yourself what was good then I think you can rapidly filter out what is unnecessary and become stronger. Something like your extract.

There is no time to preoccupy yourself with other things when you're busy, but if you give it a try then you can keep on repeating it.

Definitely. One day, the friend who made me take notice of my own personal likes asked me if I had seen the cherry blossoms. Until then I wasn't mindful of the cherry blossoms at all. When I was young all I ever did was go to dance lessons.

Dance lessons are incredibly important as a dancer. Lessons are absolutely essential. No matter how sleepy I was or how much my body ached, I was the type who would never miss a lesson. That is important as a dancer. But graduallyc

My friend was shocked. "What? You're Japanese and you don't go and see the cherry blossoms?"
He said to me, "For a Japanese person the cherry tree is something of remarkable beauty. So you have to make time and go and see them."

It became a priority. Then, if I had the time to go to see the cherry blossoms I would go to practice.

One day however, in terms of self-expression, the faint colour of a cherry tree's petals, the scattering shapes, the ambience created by a ground covered in blossoms: when you see something like that you probably learn more than you could in one lesson.

I didn't understand it at the beginning. I was busy and thought it was a waste of time, but I realized it was important to also miss dance, even if it's only once.

But it builds up. That kind of time becomes more valuable to you as you become older, and you realize you're becoming wealthier; you definitely have moments of realization.

What kind of view do you have everyday?

The homepage and office were established last year. Although it was a little amateur I was able to write a little blog. Though I say a little blog, the aim was to do something everyday if possible, and while it was almost impossible I have no choice but to write. If I do that I'll be able look back at any one day.

Having said that, surprisingly I thought I'd have nothing for today, but in fact I've been reminiscing about so many things. So when I mention "view" I don't mean the view you see outside, but the scene that leaps into your eyes while you're not paying any notice. I've often had that feeling recently.

The tender feeling of a peaceful view.

Really?
Maybe.
I presume so because I like to be healed. For me, as far as is possible I often wonder what things are healing, like time or space. Although they are rare, I really feel the desire to search for those kinds of remedy.

Amongst the friends around me, I've found that in general, people are naturally optimistic. Everyone is so compassionate: they laugh, cry, and even help me on stage. The atmosphere is always fun and involving. I think because I am surrounded by so many pleasant "brains" that I can write good shows and express myself well.
The same is so with Ms Araki.

Why do birds of a feather flock together?

I think so. I truly feel so much support from the people around me. I can't honestly do a thing by myself.

The stage itself is a union of the arts. Clearly, theatre is almost impossible by oneself. That's why meeting staff who are supportive and cooperative is a huge thing. It's vital that we all share the same feeling and are aiming for a common goal. Thus, the encounter, the fortuitous meeting, or whatever you may call it, is really big.

An expressionist, and also an artist, has it I believe. But what is it exactly?

Well, love it or hate it, an artist is honest in their likes and dislikes no matter what. They never give up. After all, when all you adhere to are the things you like or dislike, the moment you say you like something that you hate, it becomes a lie.

Everything dies when a lie is told. You are left with regret when you fail and regret remains even after success.

Nevertheless, if you are truthful then you can move on from failure and take absolute delight in success.

What do you hold true as an expressionist? I guess it must be utter belief.

During a performance, when you're expressing yourself on stage you have to believe in yourself. You must believe in the work. You must believe in your colleagues, the director and the choreographer.

If you lose that trust you can no longer stand up on stage. To gain that trust therefore, you can, for instance, practice winning over the trust of the director during the rehearsal sessions that the director also attends. However much trust you have it will lead to belief. If you lack trust then the stage is definitely a very frightening environment.

As a performer you must be able to believe unconditionally. That is an extremely important element. Even where there is no justifiable argument for it. You give your consent to the director and choreographer so it's fine if you're tricked.

The feeling of performing, whether it's one of concern, is crucial.