033 TOKYO 2O25 – dérive V, a quickie on Synthesis

on Synthesis of the Arts and blandness of global Tokyo

It certainly is a kind of pleonasm to say that this was an accidental dérive but yes, while other drifts I loosely plan, this one just happened. Tokyo has, yet again, pulled us in an unexpected direction, this time to exhibition of Le Corbusier’s paintings! A sheer number and variety, let alone the quality of exhibitions held here make Tokyo a true World City. The culture of production and dissemination of meticulously designed, ubiquitous brochures, postcard memos, invitations which dates back to Edo period, not only informs, but it pulls a passer-by, excites imagination, initiates drifts . . . In this particular case, how would any architect resist Le Corbusier: Synthesis of the Arts 1930-1965?

_ _ _ finding this flyer was sufficient to make us go to Rouault Gallery in Panasonic Shiodome Museum of Art . . . synthesis (σύνθεσις, putting, placing, pulling together) is a concept of direct relevance to urbophilia’s focus on complexity and totality (of the urban), to co+re discussions on dialectisation of thought and work (of/in art), of flows between thinking and design (urban, architectural, any) action without reduction (ism), explorations of (in) compatibilities in creative act . . . synthesis understood as (the result of) life itself (life – lived) . . .

_ _ _ on our way to experience synthesis, an air of Central Tokyo (if word “centre” ever made any sense here), cold air of Global Tokyo – of the kind experienced in Toranomon Hills (discussed in dérive III) – has “greeted” us long before reaching the Museum itself, from outside invisible, sprawling, oversized underground, Tokyo that tourists might stay completely unaware of, perfectly expresses the primitive globalist hunger of Gargantuan forces creating it. During the rush hour these spaces do come alive, flooded by silent, formally clad, dead serious sararyman heading towards their offices, their endless working days and izakaya drunken session after. But, for most of the day they are all but deserted, as yesterday (below), while we were rushing to encounter nothing less than . . . synthesis of the arts.

_ _ _ at Rouault Gallery photography was not allowed, which may make this post less visually attractive than I would want it to be but, as urbophilia is about (re)acting, not reporting, here are several links to more detailed sources and some thoughts recorded when triggered both by what, and by what wasn’t there: . . . (*) whenever I encounter Le Corbusier’s work I remember Pierre Francastel’s words (conveyed to me by Ranko Radović, my professor [“no relation”, as he would always stress]: “we will never be able to say enough of neither good and bad things about Charles Edouard Jeanneret”) . . . (*) the title “Synthesis of the Arts” was inspired by Kandinsky’s statement that “We are born under the sign of synthesis”, which has encouraged Duchamp and Le Corbusier to look at modernity as an endless progress (which the curator used to appropriate Corbu into Panasonic trade, repeating how he celebrated progress and – guess what – technology) . . . (*) the most interesting exhibits are, of course, Le Corbusier’s works which, besides an exciting talent, point at his incredible energy and passion to create, to make, to produce, and some interesting juxtapositions against the works of artists who have obviously (sometimes very explicitly) inspired his work . . . (*) there are several, to me perhaps the most precious, unselfconscious hints at Corbu as private person, poetic flights such as small seashell given to Junzo Sakakura (signed; catalogued “ink on shell”; if I understood properly, on loan from Gallery Saka, Tokyo; I might go there some other time to take a photo; and, the mention of Sakakura has brought back a memory of Milorad Pantović, another old professor of mine, who befriended Sakakura in Le Corbusier’s office in Paris and his casual explanation of how he knew an interesting detail about Tokyo Station simply saying – “Sakakura told me”) . . . (*) as a reminder that this exhibition is in Japan, at the premises of a tech company, is a six pages long list of exhibits, meticulously compiled and made available by the organiser

. . . (*) . . . (*) . . . (*) . . . (*). . . (*) a touching final exhibit, Le Corbusier’s final “deeply hermetic text”, 22.12.1954 Tout arrive à la mer, written shortly before his last swim at beach Cap Martin . . . and (click here) > one (ir)relevant reference on LC and the sea, another old man and the sea; desiring machines etc.

BUT, alas . . . as the most powerful memory of this exhibition will stay not Corbu’s energy and work, but the question which came to my mind while rushing through those unclassifiable voids on our way to Panasonic Gallery: what would our poor old Charles Edouard Jeanneret (so passionate about design sensibility in/of Japanese culture), what would the architect Le Corbusier, the artist, think if he was with us, in those soulless, meaningless, endless underground passages?

(although, no doubt, one can find a lot of engineering excellence there, proverbial Japanese organisation, maintenance cleanliness, scrupulous organisation . . . precisely as in Toranomon Hills, and also with no soul)

Poor Corbu might walk into the sea and never come back again, and understandably so.