Meet The German Master of Japanese Traditional ORIGAMI, Paper Fold Art

Girls in anime costumes

In January 2011, Japan Festival came to URANIA, a modern conventional hall in Berlin. The place was very crowded with fans of Japanese pop culture in different anime costumes which were accurately designed to let them look like real anime characters.

Walking through some shops featuring Japanese culture such as green tea, books, and video games, I found an “origami” workshop in a small conference room. Then an idea of a little mischief came to my mind. Honestly, I believed I could be the most competitive origami sculptor in that room. For many Japanese people, origami had been a very popular toy in their childhood. Actually I had been the No.1 origami kid in my neighborhood.

I entered the room. There were several German origami masters teaching how to fold a piece of paper to create a subject to some groups of participants. Some of them were trying to follow the instruction, and some were puzzled about complicated folds that they had never made for any purpose.

I joined one group which was about to start a new session. No one knew I was from Japan and had much experience of it. The instructor spoke to me, “I am not good at English, but I will try to explain. OK?” “No problem. I can follow you by watching how you fold it.” He started to make an envelope as a warm-up exercise. There were two German participants in the group, both of which had difficulty in making it though it was a very easy one. For me, it was a good reminder of how I had done origami in my childhood.

Next was a “kissing fish.” Once the paper becomes a fish, its mouth could move like kissing. It required many folds to draw grid lines, which made a piece of origami look like graph paper. It could be ranked as an intermediate level, no more beginners’. The master slowly started folding, clearly showing us which corner of the paper should meet which grid line step by step. Yet soon the other German ladies got stuck with that complicated lines. The master was busy to instruct each of them to catch up all the time through the finish. I did it by myself by watching how they were doing. He was surprised by me perfectly following him and asked, “Do you have some experience of origami?” “Yes, I played with it when I was a small child.” I was still confident of my skills.

When the master was about to start next subject, the German participants gave up continuing origami. “It’s so difficult! I can’t go any further! I will enjoy watching you guys doing it.” Then there were only me and the master. We did one more intermediate level work quickly. It was still easy for me. He finally asked, “Where are you from?” I answered, “Japan. Origami was my favorite toy.”

I saw he became more serious being faced with a real Japanese amateur expert of origami. “Have you ever made 1,000 cranes for wish?” “Yes. When my favorite teacher in my school got sick, I did it with some of my friends. We made lots of cranes every day and it took more than a week.” “Unbelievable! I have never done it yet in my origami life!” Then he eagerly started to talk about his origami history almost forgetting to fold a new subject. He had never visited Japan but had been impressed by great origami work and started to learn it by reading books so hard that he had became a master. He had developed his original creations which had been awarded. I was amazed by his collection. I had never seen such a new style of origami, which created a good sense of graphics. All the pieces were his original work.

He offered to teach one of them to me. A relatively easy one. “Look. This star looks like a combination of two starts, but it was made of one piece of paper. It’s more complicated with more grid lines. So watch my work carefully. I hope you can do it.” It was a real challenge to me. I knew it was a very high level one. He slowly started folding. I carefully watched how he was doing. The grid lines were dense and even a slight misalignment could lead it to unbalanced final figure. He kindly showed me his small secret. He was using a toothpick to fold the corners for perfect alignment. That was how he was doing precise and small folds with his big hands.

It took around 10 minutes to finish my star. I was as happy as when I had mastered to make something from a piece of origami as a little child. The master said, “You are the first guest in this festival who has caught up with me to make this star!” I admired his honest and pure ambition to learn and develop new ways of origami.

It was time to give the seat to the next participants. The master gave me his business card. His name is Ralf. I really want to see him someday again.

■Ralf’s Origami Online http://www.origami-online.de/index_de.html

The Travel Library

Entrance Signboard

The Travel Library is just a stone’s throw away from Tokyo Train Station. Once you get out of the North Exit on the Yaesu side, you’ll find the brand new building, Gran Tokyo North Tower. Next to that new landmark, there is a traditional, rather old-fashioned, business building, Daini Tekko Building. One of the compartments on the underground floor is the library. It’s run by JTB, the Japan Travel Bureau, for marketing of tourism.

Anyone can read the books for free. The library has as few as three sets of bookshelves in the room. Yet the variety of books relating to “travel” is as wide as general guidebooks like Thomas Cook timetables, Lonely Planet guides, and travel stories to hard-to-get ones like in-flight magazines, embassy-sponsored guidebooks, and tourism business journals. Not only books directly linked with travel, but also other books on wider definition of “travel” are available, such as history, architecture, and religion.

The Travel Library

Just like general libraries, the librarians are working for your assistance. The books should be read within the library. There are thirty reading tables and two copy machines available for researchers.

If you like traveling the world, I bet you’ll stay there for a full day to enjoy browsing through their books.

■URL www.jtb.or.jp/library/

■Hour 10:00-17:30 Mon-Fri

My Biased View Of Business Communication

“May I ask a question? Sorry for disturbing her.” But I have to confirm with you what the bottom line of this workshop setting is.”

One of the participants raised a question when a young assistant was critiquing the work one participant brought in.

The facilitator unsurprisingly replied, “Yes, of course. Go ahead.” Accordingly his assistant held her speech and stepped back.

“I don’t agree all of your assistant’s points. I hate to say that she is unqualified, but she is just a newbie in this business. We are unaware if she is skilled enough to appropriately critique our output. Is she your delegation, or is she speaking based on her own ideas? Can you explain what you intend to do in having that young girl to speak? I want to make the most of this learning opportunity because I spend my money and time for it. I want to have productive discussions rather than her grandstanding.”

You may think it was just a feedback from a participant in order to maximize the outcome from the session. Yes, it was. But I was reflexively afraid that it could provoke unhealthy tensions in the room, as I had seen so many scenes of emotional criticism over a person rather than an issue or emotional reactions against a very positive suggestion, either of which had ruined many meetings.

So I was hoping either of the facilitator or the assistant wouldn’t lose their temper just because they had been argued against. The other participants didn’t seem to be willing to speak anything but waiting for someone to get it back on the right track.

Then the facilitator broke the silence, “I agree to your points. Without knowing my intention, it’s difficult to anyone to accept the critiques from a young assistant, far younger than any of you. I should have shared it with you before this meeting and I apologize I didn’t do it. Can I take some time to explain it now?”

“Yes, please.”

He continued politely, “I agree that my assistant is unexperienced and unfamiliar in the business field. I wanted to show her presence as an example that even that a young girl can be able to critique productively. You may be uncomfortable listening to her because it directly critiques your personalized way of doing things. But it’s important for you to put aside your set style for the moment in order to be familiarized with the standardized way. I want to help your jump-start in that short preparation period. I could provide a moderated way of critique, but it wouldn’t have enough influence on you. I’m making it a rule to review all of her comments before each session. So please be patient as she is not criticizing personally but giving productive suggestions to help you break through.”

The woman answered, “I understood and I’m happy to know that you are seriously considering our development.”

I was also happy that their short conversation hadn’t been developed into an emotional dispute, which could have been the case in my past working environments. It’s not easy in Japan to have a discussion with straight opinions like yes or no, do or don’t, because we have been disciplined not to do so but follow the given consensus in public. So people are not used to being faced with unexpected counterarguments. Any good idea opposite to the mainstream would be likely to be taken as personal criticism even. They tend to be harsh in raising a question just because expected reactions would be hostile as well for above reasons. This could be seen in many foreign-capital companies where Japanese employees are pressured to speak straightforwardly by expat managers.

As I had that biased understanding, I admired the woman opened the discussion, the facilitator, and the assistant. They were really grown-up adults enough to have a productive debate. Does it sound like an exaggeration? Yes, it does. That’s because I had seen such a positive discussion for the first time since I had become an HR professional years before.

An Impractical Guide To Opera

“Opera is a very formal entertainment.” I had had this stereotype idea toward opera until I saw one, The Barber of Seville, in Florence, Italy, where opera was born. I realized that the entertainment was not only in the songs and music, but the entire time from the arrival to the theater to leaving for dinner. What an opera produced was more than just an opera. It was a culture. It went like this:

1. Participate in the fashion show

Even though I arrived early, there were already many people waiting the door to open. I was amazed by their fashion. Everyone was nicely dressed up even for a daytime program. What especially caught my eye was an elderly lady in a bright pink dress and matching shoes, clutching a pale blue bag. I admired her sense of style, so vivid but not bold at all. I also liked the well polished shoes of some gentlemen, which matched their slim-cut suits. No one looked smug but relaxed. It seemed that they enjoyed their fashion as their part of the show. I felt as if I had been wandering in a red-carpet reception.

2. Feel the Renaissance

The doors were opened and I went to my seat in an orchestra area where I could see both the singers on the stage and the musicians on the floor. There was a piano in the orchestra which was embellished in a traditional style. I thought it was like a fine antique rather than a musical instrument. It added a touch of class to the atmosphere.

3. Follow the leader

The conductor was the only person who could be seen by both the singers and the musicians. All the players followed the conductor in the dim light. The success of the Oprah fully depended on him as he was caring about the whole theater.

4. Be impressed by the voices

When the first song started, I was amazed by the singers’ voices. There were no microphones, yet their voices could reach the farthest seats even on the highest balcony. Even when they sang in pianissimo, it was clearly heard there. All of the singers did it all through the program. I viewed singing in an opera was similar to a full marathon, requiring athletes to maintain their stamina and to control their pace.

5. Pay attention to the artists’ minor professionalism

The Barber of Seville is a comedy, Figaro being the key person in the story. The actor sang, danced and played a guitar as a soloist on the stage. When he was dancing with a song, he accidentally threw his shoe into the air. It fell into the orchestra and probably hit someone playing a violin. Yet Figaro continued his dance. So did the orchestra. When the number was finished, there was a loud applause from the audience.

6. Talk about the opera over a glass of wine during the short break

It was time to get to the foyer for a glass of wine when the first half finished. People were talking about the performance, their favorite singers, dinner plans, and so on, as getting out of the concert hall. I was there alone but liked walking in the classy and casual atmosphere. Being refreshed, I returned to my seat.

7. Say “bravi!” at the finale

I saw around 20 school kids are seated on the balcony accompanied by their teachers. Probably it was a part of their music class to see an opera on site. All of them were seriously watching the stage and sometimes purely laughed at comical actions of singers. When the final song was finished, they stood up to applaud all the singers, the musicians, and the conductor, saying “Bravi!” They knew basic manners in the theater.

8. Dinner time

It was 6 pm in the dusk when I finally got out of the theater. I walked to the old town to find a place for dinner. Many restaurants on the main street were already full of people drinking with friends and families. I turned the corner into a narrow quiet path and found a small place which hadn’t been occupied yet. Soon after I entered there, many local people came in and the restaurant became full. I thought it was the local way of life on a Saturday night.

Though I did not have much knowledge about the opera music, the composer, or the popularity, I enjoyed that opera day from the bottom of my heart.

Arno River, Firenze, Italy