Sado: Where Art, Nature, and Stories Converge
- Nathan Atsuki Onkenhout
- Oct 21
- 5 min read
As a part of Sophia University’s commitment toward sustainable studies, professors at the Faculty of Liberal Arts meticulously craft courses that enlighten students with new issues, approaches, and solutions. Meaningful Life: Art, Digital, and Field-Based Learning, taught by Professors Takeshi Ito and John Williams is no exception. At the heart of this course lay two trips: to Kyoto’s Ashiu forest and Sado’s Kitaushima. This essay reflects on the latter, in an attempt to challenge myself both stylistically and personally through use of figurative language.
#1 – Stargazing
After an entire day of traveling to one of the most remote parts of Japan, we were dropped off in the middle of nowhere — a gloomy, solemn, and outwardly wilderness in Onogame. Only the polyphonic chatter of insects was audible, exhibiting the island’s biodiversity. We felt a mixture of anxiety and excitement, as the stars glimmering through the night were the only guidance available for us toward our unrevealed destination. The lands of Sado challenged us with unforeseen indeterminacy, signaling the beginning of our beautiful journey.
#2 - The Unscripted Story
After receiving a well-deserved rest at Yamasa-inn — a guest house run by a local Sado resident, Kitamura-san — we stepped outside to witness the crystal clear, emerald ocean. Veiled behind the gloom of the previous night, the stage for the play emerged — a surreal fusion of stairs and bridges wrapped around great rocks on the shore. Here, our mission to improvise a creative play that blends characteristics of traditional Japanese theaters such as Noh and Bunraku, began.
(Refer to https://www.japan.travel/en/blog/a-guide-to-japanese-performing-arts-kabuki-noh-bunraku-and-the-japan-cultural-expo for more information on Japanese traditional performances.)
#3 – From Debris to Art
Exploring the shore of Kitaushima — a remote village located in northern Sado — we encountered debris on the beach. Despite efforts to clear up the sites, the depopulated village finds it difficult to achieve this thoroughly. Nevertheless, anything can be turned into art with a pinch of creativity. We gathered plastic waste, driftwood, and ropes, which inspired an idea for the play — what if Urashima Taro, the protagonist of a famous Japanese Legend, was a flawed hero who was guilty of polluting the Kitaushima shores…?
(Refer to https://www.gov-online.go.jp/eng/publicity/book/hlj/html/201407/201407_09_en.html for the story of Urashima Taro.)
#4 – Life Hidden in the Hills
In the midst of the rehearsals, we explored the northern sections of Sado, particularly the Onogame rock, which is allegedly the location where Urashima Taro encounters the turtle. The scenery was purely sublime, but more interesting was how the terraced rice fields, which were non-visible from the village, revealed themselves majestically. In one of the most remote parts of Japan, people are interacting reciprocally with the natural landscapes, a prime example of a Satoyama — where villages rest at the foot of mountains, creating a sustainable but interdependent coexistence. The Satoyama relationship here is not only practical but also spiritual, as evident in the rare tradition known as Kurumada-ue — a unique method of planting rice in three circular patterns from the center of the field. The circular patterns represent the radiant sun, reflecting the Sado locals’ belief that God is not some greater being but is rather nature who bestows them with fertility.
#5 – Recreating the Legend
After we conjured the props from the debris, we had just one last goal: to collaborate our creative senses to make something unplanned, unexpected, and unforeseen. The story was that Urashima Taro infuriates Ryujin — the dragon god who is the ocean itself — by contaminating the Kitaushima shores with waste, so he is dragged into the ocean. Taro soon returns to the land, but time has passed so rapidly there that he could not recognize anyone, including his own spouse, who is already elderly. When telling the story, we used minimal verbal explanation and resorted to physical expression methods, such as fervent dance moves, melancholy songs, and eerie chants. The storm wind blowing on stage during the performance was highly evocative, as such strong gales could only have been the tempest emerging from Ryujin’s indignation. Through improving the play, all of us were reminded of how special moments emerge only from indeterminant, collaborative efforts.
#6 – Hall of Imaginations
While exploring the villages, we came across a reverent room for artwork, where the last year’s students left their pieces of work. The objects were all unique, and when combined, they gave off a sanctuary-like atmosphere. Equally impressive, however, was the fact that the villagers preserved the site for an entire year. The Kitaushima villagers seemed to truly appreciate art, which is often dismissed as “impractical” and “not necessary” in urban lifestyles that pursue efficiency. Aside from the hall, each house had a splendid Buddhist altar covered in glistering gold. According to Kitamura-san, all extra money he earns — mainly through government awards for sustainable agriculture and tourism — is poured into his altar, now worth over 2,500,000 yen in gold and devotion. Their appreciation of spirituality and creativity was fascinating but also poignant, as the village is soon expected to disappear due to depopulation.
#7 – Kitamura-san
Right above the Kitaushima village were the rice fields owned by Kitamura-san, some of which were just like the fields visible from the top of Onogame. He explained how growing rice here was a constant battle with wild ducks, who frequent any area where water is abundant. Hence, the water level must be kept low, except for brief moments when the fields need to accept agrochemicals. Our encounter with Kitamura-san altered how we envisioned a meaningful life. He, as a middle-aged man without any family, is suffering from an illness — one that forces him to rely on intravenous nutrients and disables his left leg. Nevertheless, Kitamura-san vigorously runs the guest house, fishes for local creatures, and practices rice farming with minimal support from the local government. Hence, we encountered a lifestyle that is meaningful yet fundamentally variant from one that we are used to as urban citizens: a ceaseless striving toward “success” defined by capitalism.
#8 – Companionship of Souls
As our trip drew to a close, it became increasingly apparent how much we respected and appreciated each other. The sense of liking someone might seem mundane, but to cherish their existence at the very basic level is something that requires deliberate communication that contains gratitude toward other’s subtle characteristics — or what Anna Tsing calls “Arts of Noticing.” Having a trip with individuals from diverse backgrounds is fascinating in its own right. However, we believe that the relationship between us students, the professors, the teaching assistants, the Sado locals, and all human or non-human beings we encountered would not have been so special if it had not been framed in a political ecology class; learning socio-ecological relationships in class, particularly how reciprocal relationships can be sustained through polyphonic assemblages, was essential for this outcome. We are truly proud and thankful for being the last class to visit Sado in this exact setting. Some of us might not meet in a long while, but the important thing is that our lifeways intersected with Sado’s living history to create something unique — in this sense, this trip is impossible to recreate, and hence, it is irreplaceably precious.
End.
Comments