Journeys in Japan - Tokyo, Ghibli museum, where the rainbow of dreams are weaved

Having written briefly about my love of Japanese manga and anime, another personal highlight was visiting the Ghibli Museum in Mitaka, a suburb of Tokyo. Many, no doubt, would know of at least one film by studio Ghibli, co-founded by Hayao Miyazaki, director of the Oscar winning Spirited Away, My Neighbour Totoro, Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind, Princess Mononoke and my favourite, Porco Rosso. The films of this prodigious studio has nourished and enriched the childhoods of many generations.

Totoro and Mei

Kiki's Delivery Service

Laputa - Castle in the Sky

Porco Rosso

Waiting for the bus just outside the train station, there was already an air of joyous anticipation. Many kids eagerly shook their mothers' hands, gabbling eagerly and happily as we waited in an orderly line that snaked around, doubling on itself. Often familiar names like 'Totoro' are gleaned from the lovely rounded lilt of Japanese. Even the stop attendants, who were offering directions and selling tickets looked happier than any attendant perhaps has the right to be as they indulgently pointed hapless tourists to the right line and beamed on excited children. The direct bus from the subway station almost received a round of applause and certainly a few cheers when it pulled noisily and portentously into port, and for good reason - it was a cheery yellow thing and was festooned with pictures of characters from Totoro.

As we disembarked from the packed bus, we found ourselves in the umbra of leafy trees. The museum itself is set next to a beautiful and verdant park, famous in its own right, especially as a great place to view cherry blossoms in the Spring.  Having the illusion of being in the woods, the museum building was designed by none other than Miyazaki himself, with European influences as well as taking liberties with form, colour and imaginative impishness. The edifice is covered with ivy, which clung to the rounded shape of the building, hiding its full form. Curved windows and rounded edges give the frontage a feeling of being a picture drawn by a precocious child. Close up, you notice stain-glass windows of the characters from various films, scattering multi-coloured light upon the floor.

Curious metallic machines stood in corners; doorways that lead no where; a spiral staircase winding all the way up to the top of the airy atrium; an unnoticed, painted gecko in a dark crook on the ceiling; a deceiving painted stone window, with an alluring view of a country path and blue sky... Entering the space immediately filled me with all the wonderful espiegleries and abandon of childhood, a nostalgic feeling that was strangely reassuring to feel with such intensity.

Inside, there are a smorgasbord of displays, the most impressive and jaw-dropping is a three-dimensional zoetrope called ‘The Bouncing Totoro’, with dozens of models of the characters from the movie, Totoro, the cat bus, Mei and small totoros, placed in concentric rings, each one slightly different than the previous, on a big spinning axle. As it spins, the models become a blur, until suddenly the light darkens and then a strobe light begins to flash in time with the rotating models, lighting each as it passes the same spot and thus giving it a most amazing illusion of movement and continuity. Not only has an impressive piece of engineering and artistry, but it also serves to underscore the basis of how animation works. Far from 'unweaving the rainbow' as the poet Keats accused Newton when he explained the physical cause of rainbows; an understanding via such a wonderfully intuitive way only adds to the magic and splendour of animation. 

Up one floor are rooms modelling the studio, with hundreds of sketches, shelves of reference books and an array of wonderfully eclectic items like pieces of machinery, pencils and brushes, half drunk cups of coffee and semi-eaten meals on comfortably messy tables, giving the illusion that Miyazaki himself might saunter back any time to finish off a sketch of another fantastical flying machine or a beautiful landscape.

Not my picture - photos are sadly forbidden inside the museum

There too are sections where the process of animation was displayed, from sketches and character designs to story-boards, colouring and making of the films. Many interactive setups are scattered around for kids and adults alike to tinker with. For children who are fortunately small enough, there is a cordoned off area which contains an enormous cat-bus. We sorry grown-ups can only watch with envy as the kids crawl in it, around it and on it, all the time shrieking with joy, only to be succeeded by tears and wails of bitter resentment as their allotted time ended and the little tykes were wrenched from the dear fluffy feline omnibus. 

To be young again!

On the roof, there is a lovely and unexpected garden at the end of which is a life-size statue of the robot from the film Laputa, Castle in the Sky. Downstairs, we went to the cinema, where, every half an hour or so, a short film is shown. Ghibli produces many exclusive short films especially for showing in the Saturn Theatre in the museum and we saw a delightful film called Koro’s Big Walk. After a lengthy and fruitful sojourn in the gift shop and a pit-stop in the Straw-Hat Café, we said a reluctant farewell to the museum, all of us I think, feeling terrifically buoyant, inspired and young. 

Valley of the Wind beer

Straw-hat cafe menu