Unseen Japan in Spain

It never crossed my mind, I must confess, to attempt to stop in the city of Aviles even though I’ve crisscrossed the Principado de Asturias whenever I would visit my maternal grandfather’s hometown of Entrago in Teverga. And at times spent memorable holidays in the seaport city of Gijon with my enchanting Tia Maria, my mom’s younger sister. Blame it on my misled perception that Aviles was solely an industrial commercial port with nothing else to tempt me to discover.

However, till rather recently, after learning its medieval old town — doesn’t every city of worth in Spain have one? — and the tourist beaches — but don’t we have beaches where dreams are made of in our own islands? — this time, I succumbed to its allure.

You see, in a recent decade, the town gave rise to the Centro Cultural Internacional Oscar Niemeyer in a wide open space, seldom seen in centers of metropolises, a modernist complex with four distinct structures — the striking sunshine yellow auditorium, the 4,000-square-meter dome, a disc-shaped observation tower which likewise serves as a restaurant of pride for the area, and a curved multi-purpose building — which all are treasured venues of historia y patrimonio, costumbres y tradiciones y artes y cultura.

The entire colossus was created by and named after the famed Brazilian architect and designer Oscar Niemeyer, considered one of the key global figures in the development of modern architecture. The revered ahead-of-his-times gentleman was likewise responsible for a number of civic buildings in the planned capital city of Brasilia in Brazil and for his extensive collaborations for the headquarters of the United Nations in New York.

During the much-postponed penitence of a visit, the vibrant Auditorio played proud host to two sterling exhibits: one by the prominent Francisco Goya of Saturn Devouring His Son fame — which we will recount in another installment — and the Japanese-influenced, influential Brazilian photographer, painter and filmmaker Miguel Rio Branco.

Titled De Tokyo Blues Hacia Gritos Sordos, or From Tokyo Blues Towards Deaf Screams, it is his testimonial and personal love letter to Japan. He was absolutely enraptured by the country’s architecture and culture, and particularly motivated by the lauded films of directors Kenji Mizoguchi and Akira Kurosawa.

His fascination began in 2004, when Rio Branco participated in an art exhibit organized by Kazuo Suzuki. This was his first contact with Japan. Later on, he met the cultural attache of the Brazilian Embassy, Marco Daido Moryata, to commemorate the 100 years of Brazil-Japan relations. Rio Branco was stationed in Tokyo, while Moryata carried on with his duties in São Paulo. These heartwarming, soul-touching, yet fleeting moments have now been compressed into earth-shaking photographs to cherish.

We were amazed, make that awestruck, by Tokyo Long Neck. A 17-meter collage of his shots in the Land of the Rising Sun, it “represented for me a synthesis of what I felt for Japan at that time,” he admits as quoted in the exhibition notes.

Other notable sights in the exhibition were the various architectural structures, plus the oft-forgotten side of Japan, away from the neon lights, anime and cosplay, quirky characters, and even their reverence to nature. These were slices of life of a nation I had yet to see! But enough from me. Let the bewitching photographs enthrall you.