Latest episode from toco toco web documentry series on Japanese creatives looks at artist who explores glitches in fashion making, as well as a little tour of independent fashion spaces:
Nukeme is a fashion designer based in Tokyo. He works on various
creative projects, that recently include a collaboration with Urusei
Yatsura license and other projects leveraging new technologies. His
latest creations feature glitch art, that he creates by hacking into
embroidery software, which generates a random aspect to his works.
we will follow Nukeme to Hayatochiri, a select shop located in the
Koenji area, whose owner, Goto is also a creator himself. The store
features unique creations made by young local designers, and it was the
first to feature Nukeme’s work eight years ago. The store’s walls are
fully decorated with manga pages, so the store’s visitors can also enjoy
some reading while browsing through its wares.
Our second stop
will be at House@Mikiri Hasshn, a store and gallery space located in
Omotesando area. The store combines original fashion creations from
Japanese creators, vintage clothes and a gallery space located in the
basement. We will have a peek into the current exhibition, Korisho,
featuring items that combine traditional Japanese craftsmanship with new
technology, such as laser cutting. Its peculiar interior combined with
its concept make the store one of Nukeme’s favorite spots in Tokyo.
we will head to Nukeme’s atelier, where he will tell us about his work
inspiration and creations, some of which involve a unique use of 3D
Être indépendant est l'affaire d'un très petit nombre ; c'est le privilège des forts. Et, qui en prend le risque, fût-ce avec les meilleures raisons, mais sans y être contraint, prouve sans doute qu'il n'est pas seulement fort mais téméraire jusqu'à l'extravagance.
Nietzsche - Par-delà bien et mal - Paragraphe 29
Often in this business, we refer to the “good ol’ days”. Which is a weird thing to say, because every single six month period in the history of our company has been better in every way than the six months before it.
But through all the years of producing shows, there are a few memories that stick with me clear as day, and this night was one of them. As our friends La Dispute developed their craft through years and years of DIY touring, they found a very special relationship with Howell, Michigan, of all places. My tiny hometown where I cut my teeth as a promoter was a strange place to present shows. Local bands were excited back then, and some could draw 200 kids on their own if they really put their minds to it. But usually, it was the same 80-100 kids at each show, watching a bunch of local acts with a few occasional independent touring acts mixed in.
But La Dispute would make the trek across the state every six months or so to play the Howell Opera House, and the last 3 or 4 of those times, the shows looked like this. Sold out and then some, no line drawn between stage and spectator area, everyone screaming every word together, as if the words were written BY everyone in the crowd as a collective effort.
This night in particular, November 22, 2008, is memorable in my mind for a very special reason to me. I grew up in a pretty conservative home, and my parents have grown more conservative as they’ve aged. It’s weird for them to have a son in the music industry, presenting bands called Goatwhore and Cattle Decapitation, alongside the Anberlin’s and Mutemath’s of the world.
But on this one night, my mom randomly stopped by the Opera House while out running errands, just to soak it all in and try to gain a greater understanding of what it was that I did on a day-to-day basis. She walked in about ten minutes before the start of La Dispute’s headlining set, and I said “Mom, just come watch for a few minutes.”
She wasn’t sure about the whole thing. She didn’t feel like she fit in, and I guess it’s true that it was mostly teenagers and twenty-somethings piled into the room, anticipating a set they’d been waiting for for quite some time. Just as La Dispute was ready to get started, I gave my mom a pair of earplugs and led her (reluctantly) to a spot behind the band, where we stood on a roadcase and watched as the band kicked into the beginning of their set (they played Somewhere At The Bottom Of The River Between Vega and Altair in its entirety that night). The band opened with the initial chords of “Such Small Hands”, a song that the band has since sworn off, and the entire crowd completely overwhelmed the instruments with the sound of their combined voices. As the band kicked into the raucous beginning of “Said The King To The River”, I glanced over at my mom, whose eyes were darting right and left, watching as kids danced and crowdsurfed and moshed and surged into the stage area (it was a floor show, no stage, one of the last La Dispute ever played). I let her watch for 2 or 3 minutes, and among all the madness, I motioned to her to follow me out of there, that if she’d had enough, I was OK with that.
But she looked at me, with a look in her eye I’ll never forget, and just shook her head as to say “Are you nuts, are you SEEING THIS?!”
She and I stood on that roadcase for most, if not all, of the set that night. I kept motioning to her to say “You wanna go?”, and she just wasn’t going to leave. It was something else to watch my mom, who I’ve never known to have an adventurous bone in her body, just breathe in the incredible energy that was in the room that night. For the first few songs, she’d play typical the soccer mom role, where she’d freak out a little if she saw someone looking like they were going to fall while crowdsurfing, but by the end, it seemed as if she understood that the kids took care of each other, that they weren’t going to let anyone fall. She could feel why we all come together, in spaces like that, to celebrate each other and to just be one mass of humanity for a few hours.
And while she’s rarely returned to other shows, still spends her days watching Fox News and worrying about whether I’m drinking too much pop or exercising enough or taking my vitamins, she and I have this weird, unsaid understanding of what it is that I do every day. My goal for every event is to have it grow to this level, to where we just let it all loose, where we forget everything that’s stressing us out, and just be a part of something. It’s something my dad will probably never understand, though he’s more of a “music fan” (take him to see Alison Krauss or Joe Bonamassa, and he’ll be a happy guy).
That night, there with my mom, 300 of my best friends, and one of my favorite bands in the world, I had affirmation that whatever it was that we were trying to do with Fusion Shows was going to work. 7 years and nearly 2000 shows later, we’re excited to have some exciting La Dispute related news for you very, very soon. Please stay tuned to our networks for this. It’s pretty cool, and totally different than the usual for us.