Sukunahikona Shrine and Pharmaceutical Museum, Doshomachi, Osaka

In the Edo-period, Osaka was the trading center of Japan. Not only did important wares such as rice pass through its warehouses before being distributed nationwide, Osaka was also the financial center of Japan. One of the items on which merchants from Osaka had a nationwide monopoly, was herbal medine. As initially Japanese medicine was based on Chinese herbal medicine, plants, roots, bark and other substances were imported from China (or brought from other areas in Japan), collected in the Doshomachi quarter in Osaka, checked, and then distributed nationwide.

In 1722, 124 brokers of such medicinal ingredients received official permission to act as a trade association (kabunakama) - meaning they had a monopoly on the medicine trade in exchange for taxes. Of course, a practical reason was that these traders had built up enough expert knowledge to judge the quality of the ingredients (and recognize fake ones) and see to it that they were used in a proper way.

[Entrance to the Sukunahikona Shrine and Museum]

Dealing in Chinese medicine, these traders honored the Chinese Deity of Medicine, Shennong (Shinno in Japanese). Shennong ("Divine Farmer") is a culture hero and mythical figure who has been credited as the inventor of both agriculture and medicine (in the form of herbal drugs, the therapeutic understanding of pulse measurements, acupuncture, and moxibustion). In the Huainanzi he is said to have tasted hundreds of herbs to test their medical value - and in some traditions, he finally swallowed a poisonous plant and so died for the welfare of mankind. Shennong became the patron deity of farmers, rice traders, and practitioners of traditional Chinese medicine and acupuncture. The most famous ancient book on agriculture and medicinal plants from China has also been ascribed to Shennong: the Shennong Bencao Jing ("Shennong's Materia Medica"), although in fact this is a compilation of oral traditions made between 300 BCE and 200 CE. The book describes 365 herbs and therapeutic substances, among which ginseng, linzhi mushrooms and ginger. Tea, seen as an antidote to poisonous herbs, is also described and Shennong so is also seen as the inventor of tea - a chance discovery, as tea leaves on burning tea twigs were carried by the hot air from the fire precisely to his cauldron of boiling water.

[Ingredients in a store of traditional medicine]

Later, Shennong was coupled with the Japanese deity of medicine, Sukuna-hikona. This deity, whose name means "Renowned Little Prince" appears in the Nihongi as the helper of Onamuchi no Mikoto, in "animating" the newly created land. He also set forth methods for healing illness among humans and their livestock, as well as magical ways of averting disasters. On top of that, he came to be regarded as the deity of curative springs (Onsen). In 1789 a shrine was built in the Doshomachi quarter, in which eventually both deities were enshrined. The popular name of the shrine is still "Shinno-san;" the official name is Sukunahikona Shrine.

[The Sukunahikona Shrine]

In 1822 a cholera epidemic hit Japan, brought into the country via Nagasaki, the only international port at the time. Also in Osaka, hundreds of people were dying every day. The medicine traders created medicine from tiger's bones and also made toy tigers from papier-mache as offering to Shinno and Sukuna-hikona. Although this undoubtedly did not help against the disease, it became customary to purchase a toy tiger (hariko) at the annual shrine festival in November as a prayer for good health.

[Votive plates with on top the two deities Sukunahikona (left)

and Shinno (right) and at the bottom the tiger]

In the Meiji period (1868-1912) Western medicine was introduced, first from the Netherlands. The Doshomachi merchants again acted as importers, although the monopoly of course was gone. A new phenomenon occurred: production of medicines was also started in the area, and the Osaka Pharmaceutical School was set up here. Some of the famous pharmaceutical companies that grew up in Osaka and are still headquartered in Doshomachi are: Takeda, Fujisawa, Kobayashi, Shionogi, Tanabe and Dainippon. There are 300 pharmaceutical wholesalers and manufacturers in the district, many also carrying out research. There are also several companies producing more traditional medicines, as Kaigen.

[A rare traditional building of a pharmaceutical company surviving in the area]

In the grounds of Sukunahikona Shrine (on the 3rd floor of the building housing the shrine office), one finds the Doshomachi Pharmaceutical and Historical Museum, which shows how the Doshomachi district has developed over the centuries. The museum possesses a large collection of valuable documents, but also advertising posters. One can watch several interesting videos as well. Unfortunately, the museum is only in Japanese.

At the entrance to the shrine is a plaque with a replica of the handwriting of the novelist Tanizaki Junichiro - his novella Shunkinsho (A Portrait of Shunkin, 1933) is set in this area.

[Tanizaki's Shunkinsho manuscript]

Address: 2-1-8 Dosho-machi, Chuo-ku, Osaka. TEL: 06-6231-6958  

Hrs: 6:00 - 18:30. Both shrine and museum are free.  

Access: 2 min. walk from Kitahama St. on the Sakaisuji Subway Line

Best Japanese Gangster (Yakuza) Films (Movie Reviews)

Like in other countries, there have always been gangster films in Japan (a superb non-genre film is of course Drunken Angel by Kurosawa Akira, about the complex ties between a violent gangster and a doctor fond of the bottle), but the yakuza genre is typical for the Land of the Rising Sun. This genre only really got underway in the sixties, when the "ninkyo eiga" or "chivalry films" started being made. The hero in these movies is always a traditional yakuza who strictly observes the honor code and does not hurt outsiders. He wears kimono and fights with a sword in contrast to the "bad" modern yakuza who look like businessmen and carry pistols. The setting is in the Meiji-, Taisho- or early Showa-period. In the the drama, the hero is often torn between the contradictory values of giri (duty) and ninjo (personal feelings). The most popular actor in these films was the stoical Takakura Ken, often flanked by Tsuruta Koji or Ikebe Ryo. Countless of these films were produced by the Toei studios, replacing their samurai films which had been going strong in the 1950s. The 1960s were the heyday of the yakuza genre. Since these classical yakuza films later fell out of favor, they are now difficult to find, even in Japan.

[Takakura Ken]

After the demise of the ninkyo-film, the yakuza movie boom as such stopped, but there were three separate revivals. First, the "jitsuroku" or "docudrama" films devised in the early 1970s by Fukasaku Kinji in his five-film series Battles Without Honor and Humanity. These films were based on true stories, filmed with a hand camera in documentary style, and they portrayed the yakuza as they really are: ruthless, treacherous street thugs - as "unchivalrous" as possible. The films are also extremely violent. The "hero" is played by Sugawara Bunta - a cynical ex-soldier who just after WWII rises to power in the underworld of post-atomic bomb Hiroshima. Many "jitsuroku films" were produced - most yakuza films made today still belong to this genre - but without the genius of Fukasaku, this is mainly straight-to-video stuff.

The second revival came in the second half of the eighties when a series of films was made about the wives of gangster bosses. These films were also based on journalistic "true stories" and caught the popular fancy with a generous admixture of sex - an element which so far had been lacking in yakuza films. The star of these films was Iwashita Shima, as a tough and coolly elegant female gang boss stepping in for her husband (either in hospital, in prison, or in his grave). These films never made much impact in the West, but had a very strong following in Japan.

In the nineties, finally, there was a third revival, in the films of new directors as Kitano Takeshi and Miike Takeshi - to whom one might add Ishii Takashi and Mochizuki Rokuro. These latter-day productions were often direct-to-video releases (certainly in the case of Miike), meant for a small and specialized cult public. Even the films of Kitano Takeshi have never caused much of a ripple in Japan, in contrast to the praise they received at the film festival circuit outside its borders. They are a strange mix of static boredom and sudden, ultra-violent scenes. The typical actors are Kitano Takeshi himself, as well as Ishibashi Ryo, Takeuchi Riki and Aikawa Sho. The last three actors also often appear in films of the other three directors. This third revival, by now, has died a silent dead as well.

Here are 10 yakuza films you must see under threat of loosing your little finger:

• Tough Guy (Akumyo, 1961; Lit. "Bad Reputation") by Tanaka Tokuzo and with Katsu Shintaro, Tamiya Jiro and Nakamura Tamao. This series was started in 1961 by the Daiei studios, well before Toei began making its "ninkyo" films. Based on a popular serial novel by Kon Toko, it features Katsu Shintaro as Asakichi, a rough and ready young thug with a peasant background who easily gets into fist fights, although he is chivalrous at heart. The handsome but dry Tamiya Jiro plays his sidekick (kobun) "Motor" Sada, as the studio didn't believe Katsu Shintaro alone was enough of a leading man type. But Katsu's enormous vitality propelled him to stardom. The series saw 16 installments until 1974 and probably gave the studio the courage to have Katsu Shintaro star on his own in another series, the chanbara films about the blind swordsman Zatoichi. These last films are now more famous outside Japan, but in the 1960s both series were equally popular. Different from the heroes in the later Toei ninkyo films, hot-headed Asakichi frequently gets into trouble with women. In this first film he rescues Kototoi, a geisha from the Matsushima yukaku, with whom he has fallen in love, from Innoshima Island in the Inland Sea, where she has been sold. This brings him into conflict with the local gang of Silk Hat, but a tough female boss helps him. However, back in Osaka there is another girlfriend who claims to be his wife, so things are not that easily settled. Production values of this color film are high, as is usual for Daiei.
  
• Pale Flower (Kawaita Hana, 1964; Lit. "Withered Flower") by Shinoda Masahiro and with Ikebe Ryo, Kaga Mariko and Fujiki Takashi. Beautiful authorist art film with a strongly nihilistic tone made at Shochiku. Ikebe Ryo plays Muraki, a misanthropic, world-weary yakuza gangster just released from prison. Previously, he has killed a gangster from a rival gang, with whom his boss now has formed an alliance, so he feels rather out of place. In one of his old gambling haunts he meets Saeko (Kaga Mariko), a young upper-class child-woman who seeks thrills by gambling on high stakes and driving madly fast in her sporty convertible. Muraki introduces her to a new high-stakes gambling joint but gradually looses control over her. One of his worries is Yoh, a drug-addict with the cold eyes of a killer, who stalks her without ever saying a single word. But Muraki never pries into who she is, the relationship seems almost Platonic. When Muraki finally accepts another killing assignment, he takes Saeko along for the thrill. The final killing is filmed like a religious sacrifice and brings Muraki where he was at the beginning of the film: in jail, where he finally learns of Saeko's death. Life has nothing to offer him, but he already knew that, too, in the beginning. This existential noir film is shot in stark black-and-white, in a mostly night-time Yokohama, with an atonal score by Takemitsu Toru.
  
• Abashiri Prison (also called "A Man from Abashiri Prison;"Abashiri Bangaichi, 1965) by Ishii Teruo and with Takakura Ken, Nanbara Koji, Tanaka Kunie and Tanba Tetsuro. The popularity of Toei Ninkyo films in the 1960s rested on five "cash-cow" series, of which three featured Takakura Ken. This is the first one, very popular in Japan even today, but little known outside its borders. Takakura Ken was introduced in this film as the noble yakuza hero - you still see him working on his character. The prison was a very notorious real one, Japan's Alcatraz, located in Abashiri, in the wilds of the northernmost island of Hokkaido - it now is a popular prison museum. Maverick director Ishii Teruo helmed the first ten films of the series, after which other directors took over for another eight films. The story is simple: Takakura Ken plays a convicted yakuza, Tsukibana Shinichi, who despite nearing the end of his prison term, escapes to visit his ailing mother (a motivation typical of the sixties, when mothers were the most important women in the lives of screen "ninkyo" yakuza). Tanba Tetsuro plays a prison warden who believed in Tsukibana's character, but after being disappointed, chases him relentlessly. In a breath-taking sequence, Takakura Ken flees handcuffed to another convict in a railway handcar hurling down a steep mountain. Next, the escaped convicts trek across the desolate snow country of Hokkaido, affording the director the opportunity to show us some great vistas.
  
• Account of the Chivalrous Commoners of Japan: Osaka (Nihon Kyokyakuden: Naniwahen, 1965) by Makino Masahiro and with Takakura Ken and Tsuruta Koji. The most typical ninkyo series of the sixties, and the second one with Takakura Ken, unfortunately little known outside Japan. This is the second installment of eleven, running from 1964 to 1971, and often thought to be the best. The story is set among transport companies in Osaka port, where honest workers are threatened by cheating gangsters. Takakura Ken plays a yakuza who upholds the traditional ninkyo code and selflessly sides with the workers. Besides the feuding gangs, we have two stories of doomed romance, which give the film additional interest. On top of that, a young woman who keeps an outside stall falls in love with Takakura Ken, but this is only played for laughs as a true yakuza is not interested in women (he is shy and she only giggles). Before the final showdown, the film contains several of the large action scenes for which Makino was famous. Yachigusa Kaoru has a nice role as a flirtatious geisha. The film reaffirms the status quo, in typical "ninkyo" manner: the Japanese way as exemplified by the common people is basically good and fills us with warm feelings; the bad gangsters who disturb the normal, harmonious relations are duly punished. A third series with Takakura Ken, now flanked by Ikebe Ryo, and with a setup-up very similar to Nihon Kyokyakuden was Remnants of Chivalry in the Showa Era (Showa Zankyoden), which saw nine entries between 1965 to 1972. The only difference is that the stories are set in the more modern Showa-period in which chivalry was getting an even rarer item and that Ikebe Ryo always dies in the ultra-violent finale. And here, too, Makino Masahiro was the major director.
  
• Branded to Kill (Koroshi no Rakuin, 1967) by Suzuki Seijun and with Joe Shishido, Nanbara Koji, Mari Annu and Ogawa Mariko. Suzuki Seijun was thirty years in advance of his time - he made satirical, grand-guignol yakuza films in the days of the straight-laced ninkyo flics. No wonder he was fired by his studio after the present film - which today is considered as one of Japan's most important cult films. It is difficult to make sense of this wild ride through the bypaths and alleys of the yakuza genre, but it is enough just to enjoy the visiuals. Joe Shishido plays a yakuza assassin who has two problems: he wants to reach the top of his profession, but is stuck in the position of "number 3" killer, without even knowing who is "number 1." And he has a problem with women: his loony wife despises him but is mad for sex, and an icily cold, mysterious woman who is eager for death and surrounds herself with dead butterflies, becomes an obsession for him. On top of that, he needs to sniff boiled rice as a turn-on... There is one very stark scene: a butterfly lands on the gun of our killer, just as he is about to pull the trigger. A sign of peace? No, he misses and instead hits an innocent bystander... A brilliant. modernist masterpiece.
  
• Red Peony Gambler: Flower Cards Match (Hibotan Bakuto: Hanafuda Shobu, 1969) by Kato Tai and with Fuji Junko, Takakura Ken and Wakayama Tomisaburo. This was a highly popular series, running to eight installments, with actress Fuji Junko (Sumiko Fuji after her marriage) in the main role of the knife-wielding female yakuza Oryu, a wandering gambler. Takakura Ken plays a wandering gangster who joins forces with her. Oryu lodges with the Nishinomaru gang which is vying with the Kanahara-gumi for a lucrative gambling concession that raises money for the Atsuta Shrine in Nagoya. To complicate matters, in a true gangland "Romeo and Julia" story, the son of the Nishinomaru boss is in love with the daughter of the Kanahara-gumi leader. Oryu helps them flee to Osaka and in the end takes on the whole Kanaharu gang. An interesting scene is the first one, where Oryu saves a young girl from an onrushing train - director Kato Tai demonstrates his skill here in some rapid, Eisenstein-style cutting. Culturally interesting is another scene at the beginning, where Oryu first arrives at the headquarters of the Nishinomaru gang and in an elaborate greeting in stilted Japanese asks for their hospitality as "kyakubun." This is a faithful representation of a typical yakuza ritual. But the top attraction of these films is the alluring Fuji Junko who wears an immaculate kimono and has perfectly polite manners, but who also possesses nerves of steel and can kill in the blink of an eye. Besides that, she has a warm humanity as shown in this installment.
  
• Battles Without Honor and Humanity (Jingi Naki Tatakai, 1973) by Fukasaku Kinji and with Sugawara Bunta, Matsukata Hiroki and Tanaka Kunie. The yakuza as just a gang of violent mobsters, without an inkling of chivalry - the ninkyo-code is trampled in the mud here. Based on a magazine series about the life of a gang boss from Kure (near Hiroshima) in the chaotic years just after WWII. Fukasaku filmed the realities of the postwar world, of angry ex-soldiers turned gangsters and black marketeers taking on the Japanese cops and the GIs - with as only values those of the street. He used handheld cameras, frequent zoom-ups and natural light to give a gritty and authentic look to the film. The violence is extreme and sudden, and not cartoonish but brutal and shocking. At the same time, Fukasaku emphasizes the absurdity of the Hiroshima gang wars. The series, which starred Sugawara Bunta, became a great hit. Fukasaku made five installments. The plot is so insanely complicated and fast moving, that I will not try to reproduce it here! The director created a new type of yakuza movie that is in a way still with us, for ever burying the ninkyo-style flics.
  
• The Yakuza Wives (Gokudo no Onnatachi, 1986) by Gosha Hideo and with Iwashita Shima and Katase Rina. Based on a reportage by journalist Ieda Shoko, who demonstrated that the women in the yakuza world were strong personalities with nerves of steel. Iwashita Shima (the wife of director Shinoda Masahiro) was a golden choice for the gang-boss wife, cool and steely, but also elegant and stately. And Katase Rina provides a perfect contrast as her softer and more voluptuous younger sister - she attracts men as honey does flies, and one of her admirers is a vile, low-life yakuza which leads to problems as her sister wants to keep her out of gang-life. A highlight of the film is the cat fight between both women, and there is plenty of other action as well. Iwashita Shima rules the mob like a business imperium, but just in case also hides a gun under her kimono. And woe to who opposes her, he may find his house bulldozed at night! This first film still has the feel of the reportage on which it was based, which adds to authenticity. In later installments it would peter out into a yakuza sopa opera. By the way, the "gokudo" of the Japanese title refers to "the extreme way," i.e. gangsters and gangs.
  
• Sonatine (1993) by Kitano Takeshi and with Kitano Takeshi and Kokumai Aya. While the whole yakuza genre is quite nihilistic, this is probably the most empty and negative gangster film ever made, the most perfect example of the minimalist style of director Kitano Takeshi. Stone-faced Kitano (the director also plays the lead role, as usual in his films) plays a world-weary yakuza, who is already spiritually dead before he commits suicide in the last reel. He is tired of living and wouldn't mind dying, "as that at least would end his fear of death." He is a blot of emptiness at the center of film. The set-up is a familiar yakuza turf war, in which Kitano and his men - though outgunned - face certain deaths by counterattacking. There is no real narrative: what we get is a depiction of the numbing boredom and emptiness of yakuza life - always hanging around and killing time, just like in that other male macho institute, the army. Stalled on a beach in Okinawa, the gangsters in their Hawaiian shirts drink beer and play silly games - until Kitano turns the tables by introducing some serious Russian roulette. There is some comedy thanks to Kitano's inventive and funny mind, but most jokes suffocate in the cruelty which is at their basis. There is little gore, but violence flashes up like a lightning bolt, out of the blue - just as in real life. An unconventional, original vision, not in the last place through the film making with its consciously jerky editing.
  
• Fudoh: The New Generation (Gokudo Sengokushi Fudo, 1996) by Miike Takashi and with Tanihara Shosuke, Takano Kenji and Jinno Marie. One of the most outrageous productions of provocateur Miike, about a generational conflict in a Kyushu yakuza gang. The father has killed the transgressing eldest son and sent his neatly boxed head to the bosses of a rival gang to appease them. Some years later, the younger son who is out for revenge has already set up a shadow gang within his high school, using 11-year olds with pistols hidden inside teddy bears. Fudoh is one of the most exuberant and over-the-top films Miike ever made. There is not a second of seriousness in its cartoonish reels. It all starts with a battle in a public toilet where 10,000 rounds of munition are fired making Sam Peckinpah look like kindergarten stuff. Some other delicious outrages are: a yakuza poisoned by some bad coffee and turning into a human blood geyser, or a schoolgirl assassin who fires poisoned darts from between her legs with lethal precision (as an interesting inquiry into the link between sex and death). Not to forget a hermaphroditic love scene, soccer with a hacked-off head, and a lovely English teacher in the most "sexploitational" skimpy outfit you have ever seen. This is one fest of macabre humor, and a demented, mayhem parody of the yakuza genre.
  

Bach Cantatas (44): Trinity XIII (BWV 77, 33 & 164)

The thirteenth Sunday after Trinity deals with the well-known parable of the Good Samaritan.

The parable tells of a traveler who is beaten, stripped of his clothes and left half dead by the side of the road. First a priest and then a Levite pass by, but both avoid the man and continue on their way. Finally, a Samaritan comes upon the traveler. Samaritans and Jews despise each other, but the Samaritan helps the injured man.

Jesus is described as telling the parable in response to the question, "And who is my neighbor?" In other words, it is the man who showed mercy to the injured traveler - that is, the Samaritan. Although some read this parable allegorically, it is most often interpreted in an ethical way. The parable has inspired many works of art. The phrase "Good Samaritan," meaning someone who helps a stranger, is often used as a name for hospitals and charitable organizations.

There are three cantatas for this Sunday.

Readings:
Galatians 3:15–22, law and promise
Luke 10:23–37, parable of the Good Samaritan

Cantata Studies:
Bach Cantatas Website | Simon Crouch | Emmanuel Music | Julian Mincham | Wikipedia | Eduard van Hengel (in Dutch) | Bach Companion (Oxford U.P.) | Bach: The Learned Musician (Wolff) | Music in the Castle of Heaven (Gardiner)

 

 

[Parable of the Good Samaritan by Balthasar van Cortbemde (1647)]  

Cantatas:

• Du sollt Gott, deinen Herren, lieben, BWV 77, 22 August 1723
  
  Coro: Du sollt Gott, deinen Herren, lieben
  Recitativo (bass): So muss es sein!
  Aria (soprano): Mein Gott, ich liebe dich von Herzen
  Recitativo (tenor): Gib mir dabei, mein Gott! ein Samariterherz
  Aria (alto): Ach, es bleibt in meiner Liebe
  Chorale: Herr, durch den Glauben wohn in mir
  
  "You shall love God, your Lord"
  Text & translation
  
  Scored for four vocal soloists, mixed choir, tromba da tirarsi, two oboes, strings and continuo.
  

  Cantata based on the parable of the Good Samaritan. The text of the cantata, authored by Johann Oswald Knauer, was published in Gotha in 1720 in Gott-geheiligtes Singen und Spielen. The text closely aligns with the readings, echoing the situation in which the parable was told, specifically referencing a lawyer's inquiry about achieving eternal life. The response, which the lawyer himself had to acknowledge, emphasized the commandment to love God and one's neighbor. This, known as the Great Commandment, serves as the focal point of the first movement. Consequently, the subsequent text is divided into two parts: a recitative and aria addressing the love of God, and a symmetrical section tackling the love of one's neighbor.

  The opening chorus is replete with religious and musical symbolism, reflecting the theological underpinnings of both the Old and New Testaments. Trumpets and continuo render Luther's chorale  (“Dies sind die heilgen zehn Gebot”), symbolizing the Ten Commandments of the Old Testament. The chorale is presented in a canon, aptly echoing the term's dual meaning of "law". In this canon, the trumpet plays at twice the pace of the bass in its highest register, with symbolically ten entries of the instrument. Against this backdrop, the choir vocalizes the New Testament's theological expansion on the dual imperative of loving God and one's neighbor: "You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength and with all your mind, and your neighbor as yourself". The melody to which the choir sings this is ingeniously derived from the canon – the vocal parts are variations of the chorale theme inverted and reversed, likened to "a vast oriental carpet, with the choral music representing the front side and the Old Testament foundation the back".

  Following a concise secco recitative, the cantata proceeds with a soprano aria ("My God, I love you with all my heart, my entire life depends on you"), accompanied by two obbligato oboes performing delicate thirds in parallel. This simple aria provides a delightful contrast to the contrapuntal intricacies of the opening chorus.

  The alto aria ("Ah, in my love there is still nothing but imperfection"), which ensues a second recitative, features a poignant trumpet obbligato, a unique occurrence in Bach's cantatas because this instrument here is employed in a subdued, emotive capacity rather than its typical martial role. Structured as a sarabande, Bach conveys the imperfection of human endeavor to adhere to the law of love by incorporating "awkward intervals" suited for the valveless instrument.

  The cantata concludes with a solemn rendition of Luther's chorale "Ach Gott vom Himmel sieh darein."
  
  Video: J.S. Bach Foundation (St. Gallen) - Workshop (in German) - Contemplation (in German) - English explanation "Bach Factory"
  
  
  
• Allein zu dir, Herr Jesu Christ, BWV 33, 3 September 1724
  
  Coro: Allein zu dir, Herr Jesu Christ
  Recitativo (bass): Mein Gott und Richter
  Aria (alto): Wie furchtsam wankten meine Schritte
  Recitativo (tenor): Mein Gott, verwirf mich nicht
  Aria (tenor, bass): Gott, der du die Liebe heißt
  Chorale: Ehr sei Gott in dem höchsten Thron
  
  "Towards you alone, Lord Jesus Christ"
  Text: anonymous; Chorale "Allein zu dir, Herr Jesu Christ by Konrad Hubert
  
  Scored for three alto, tenor and bass, four-part choir, two oboes, two violins, viola, and basso continuo.
  
  Every year on the thirteenth Sunday after Trinity, the Lutheran Church reads from the Gospel of Luke the parable of the Good Samaritan: a non-Jew who takes pity on a poor, robbed and abused man after he is passed over by two Jewish clergymen who consider serving God to be their core business. It is Jesus' interpretation of the so-called double commandment: "Love God and your neighbor as yourself.
  
  The text by an unknown poet is based on the penitential hymn Allein zu dir, Herr Jesu Christ by Konrad Hubert, printed in Nuremberg in 1540. The hymn, which focuses on the confession of the sinner who is unable to keep the laws ordained by the Lord, is only generally associated with the Gospel readings for that Sunday. The poet kept the words of the first and last stanzas and transformed the two inner stanzas into a series of recitatives and arias. The hymn, with its theme of the repentant sinner, makes only a general reference to the Gospel. The poet deepens the reference in stanza 4, "Give me only out of mercy / the true Christian faith," and in stanza 5, "Grant that I may love my neighbor out of pure instinct / as myself," which echoes the central phrase of the Gospel reading.
  
  A melody for Allein zu dir, Herr Jesu Christ was printed in Wittenberg in 1541 - it may have been written for a secular song by Paul Hofhaimer in 1512. In the cantata, Bach uses it as usual in the chorale fantasy at the beginning and in a four-part movement at the end, and he also alludes to it in the duet (movement 5).
  
  In his first year in Leipzig, Bach had composed Du sollst Gott, deinen Herren, lieben (BWV 77) for the same occasion, beginning with a chorale movement on the crucial commandment to love God and neighbor.
  
  In the opening chorale fantasy, "Allein zu dir, Herr Jesu Christ," the cantus firmus is sung by the soprano, but what catches our attention first and foremost are the expansive ritornellos by the oboes and strings, with an energetic forward thrust through ascending scales that almost eclipse the anthem. It is like a small concerto.
  
  The alto aria "Wie furchtsam wankten meine Schritte" (How fearfully my steps wander, yet Jesus listens to my pleas and leads me to his Father), on the other hand, is quietly accompanied by muted first violins and pizzicato in the other strings, while the fearful, shaky steps appear in syncopated lines - all in a typical "stepping" rhythm. It could be considered a trio sonata for alto, solo violin con sordino and continuo.
  
  A recitative is followed by a duet, "God, who is called love, ignite my spirit," for tenor and bass, accompanied by two oboes playing a duet of their own. It depicts God's love in consonant parallel sixths and thirds, creating a symbolic image of unity. The cantata concludes with a rich, melismatic harmonization of the chorale melody.
  
  Video: J.S. Bach-Foundation (St. Gallen) / Workshop (in German) - Contemplation (in German)
  
  
  
• Ihr, die ihr euch von Christo nennet, BWV 164, 26 August 1725
  
  Aria (tenor, strings): Ihr, die ihr euch von Christo nennet
  Recitativo (bass): Wir hören zwar, was selbst die Liebe spricht
  Aria (alto, flutes): Nur durch Lieb und durch Erbarmen
  Recitativo (tenor, strings): Ach, schmelze doch durch deinen Liebesstrahl
  Aria (soprano, bass, flutes, oboes, strings): Händen, die sich nicht verschließen
  Chorale: Ertöt uns durch dein Güte
  
  "You, who call yourselves of Christ"
  Text & translation
  
  Scored soprano, alto, tenor and bass soloists, four-part choir (only for the closing chorale), two flauto traverso, two oboes, two violins, viola, and basso continuo.
  
  Cantata BWV 164 was first performed in Leipzig on the 13th Sunday after Trinity in 1725. Despite its Leipzig debut, the piece bears resemblance to Bach's earlier Weimar works. With a libretto by Salomo Franck, the absence of an introductory chorus, and delicately orchestrated chamber music, it offers a more intimate reflection on the parable of the Good Samaritan.
  
  The cantata opens with a tender tenor aria ("You who call yourselves Christ, where is your mercy?") set in a gentle 9/8 rhythm. This contrasts with the admonitory text directed at professing Christians for their hardened hearts. Rather than anger, the aria conveys Christ's grief at the hypocrisy of his followers, appealing to the mercy emphasized in the Gospel.
  
  This is followed by a robust bass recitative that continues the theme of urging mercy, referring to the priest and Levite who passed by the robbed and injured traveler in the biblical narrative.
  
  An elegant alto aria ("Only through love and mercy will we become like God himself") follows, accompanied by two exquisite flutes. It depicts the comfort offered by the Good Samaritan, in stark contrast to the negative examples mentioned earlier.
  
  In the following recitative, the believer seeks divine help to practice charity effectively. This leads to a charming duet for soprano and bass, introduced by orchestral accompaniment. The promise of heaven awaits those who believe and practice charity, with forgiveness musically represented by canon-like interactions between treble and bass instruments, symbolizing open hands welcoming heaven, as expressed in the text, "To hands that do not close, heaven will be opened.
  
  The cantata concludes with a simple rendering of the fifth and final verse of  Elisabeth Cruciger's hymn "Herr Christ, der einig Gotts Sohn" (1524).
  
  Video: J.S. Bach Foundation (St. Gallen) - Workshop (in German) - Contemplation (in German)
  
  
  

Bach Cantatas

Gion Shrine, Kobe

The Gion Shrine in Kobe stands north of an area called Hirano (which itself lies due north of Kobe Station on he JR line), where the road forms a pass into the mountains. As the name indicates, it is linked to Kyoto's Gion, the Yasaka Shrine.

As a small shrine standing within walking distance from where I live in Kobe, this year I visited the Gion Shrine for a "nonbiri" Hatsumode. 

The shrine's history is as follows. When in 869 Kyoto was troubled by an epidemic, soothsayers in those unashamedly superstitious days decided that was caused by angry spirits that could only be subdued by the deity Susanoo. Susanoo happened to be honored in the Hiromine Shrine in Himeji and his "split-off spirit" (bunrei, from flame to flame) was brought to Kyoto where it was housed in the Tokoji temple (now the Yasaka Shrine of Gion fame). On the way to Kyoto, the spirit of Susanoo spent the night in Kobe, in the area called Hirano that belonged to a priest, Tojobo, who was connected to Enkyoji temple in Himeji (which was again linked to the Hiromine Shrine of Susanoo). That became the origin of the present shrine. Networks are as old as the world!

It is a nice place, with a good view over Kobe. There is not much to see, but the steep staircase leading up to the shrine provides a good exercise and the Gion Shrine also has a nice summer festival (13-20 July).

The Year of the Snake

In Western culture the snake is the great seducer: in the paradise story, it is the snake that entices Eva to take a bite from the forbidden apple, leading to the Fall. And in the Gilgamesh epos, it is a snake who steals immortality from Gilgamesh. But besides being a symbol of evil - and even Satan - , the snake is also a symbol of fertility and regeneration - because it can shed its skin. The Sumerian fertility god Ningizzida - who also became the god of healing - was depicted as a serpent with a human head. And as is well known, the Greek medicine god Aesculapius carried a serpent-entwined staff.

In Asia, the snake was close to the divine dragon. In Indian mythology we have the Nagas, great dragon-like serpents, who possessed many magical powers and guarded great treasures. In Buddhism, Nagas were believed to be both water-dwellers, living in streams, and earth-dwellers, living in underground caverns. They also guarded Mt. Sumeru, the Axis Mundi. In the legend of the Buddha's life we encounter a naga called Mucalinda - when Sakyamuni sat meditating under the Bodhi tree, a heavy rain started and Mucalinda with his seven snake heads formed a sort of umbrella above the Buddha's head to protect him from the elements.

[Pilgrimage to the Cave Shrine of Benzaiten by Hiroshige (c. 1850)]

In Japan, the serpent is especially associated with the syncretic Benzaiten, the goddess of everything that flows: water, words, and music. She is the main deity of the shrines on islands as Enoshima and Chikubushima and is often represented with a snake coiled around the rock on which she is seated. In Japanese legend, the snake is also a symbol of a woman's jealousy: in the famous story about Kiyohime, the jealous woman transforms herself into a serpent and coils around the temple bell in which her fugitive lover has hidden, literally "frying" him with her passion.

Perhaps because of the "Naga treasures," the snake is also associated with money and profit - on New year cards we often find it accompanied by gold coins.

 Japan knows many snakes (as anybody who has hiked in Japan's forests can attest to); they are an ingredient in traditional medicine. Dangerous is the mamushi, the pitviper, whose bite leads to several deaths each year (another venomous snake is the habu, found on Okinawa).

The Year of the Snake is associated with the earthly branch symbol 巳 (mi), and this is how it is written on New Year's cards.