Katrina van Grouw née Cook: Metal Plate Engraving
Katrina van Grouw
née Cook discusses
metal-plate engraving, and its use for natural
history illustration, for London’s
Natural History Museum
Beetle Queen Conquers Tokyo: Jessica Oreck: Myriapod Productions
Beetle Queen Conquers Tokyo:
Jessica Oreck: Myriapod Productions
In this guest post,
filmmaker Jessica Oreck answers a few
questions about her documentary Beetle Queen Conquers Tokyo. The
film, which delves into the ineffable mystery of
Japan's age-old love affair with insects, is
currently playing in theaters around the world and
will air on PBS's Independent Lens series in
the U.S. in May 2011.
Beetle Queen Conquers Tokyo Trailer from Myriapod Productions on Vimeo.
Where did the idea to
make Beetle Queen Conquers Tokyo
come from?
I was helping out in a classroom where a guest speaker,
a young Japanese woman, was talking about different
elements of Japanese culture. She mentioned, in
passing, that people in Japan love insects. I have
loved insects since I was a little girl, so my interest
was immediately piqued. I studied filmmaking, biology,
and ecology in university, and I knew I wanted to make
films about ethnobiology (the way human
cultures interact with the natural world), so this
was the perfect film with which to start.
I raced to start my research but there was nothing
about this phenomenon in English. Reluctantly, I set
the idea aside. But only two days later, my sister is
sitting in an airport in Baltimore, and she and the
young man sitting next to her strike up a conversation.
He is a bicultural Japanese American entomologist who
travels around the US giving talks about Japanese love
of insects. Um, providence? During our first phone call
I told Akito Kawahara that I wanted to make this movie.
He said something along the lines of, “Cool. We can
stay at my parents house and I’ll introduce you to all
of my beetle collecting friends.” It wasn’t quite as
easy as that makes it sound, but it really feels like
the stars aligned for this particular project.
How did you produce this
film, and what are some of the challenges you overcame
in the process?
Thanks to Akito, most of our subjects were chosen far
in advance. We were also a really small crew: myself
(recording sound), my boyfriend, Sean Price Williams,
as camera, and then my best friend Maiko Endo as
translator. So the actual production was, well, a
blast. But determining the structure of the narrative,
that was a bit more complicated. I knew I didn’t want
main characters – I was more interested in the
movements of social masses. I also had no intention of
a formal narrative arc. I had a mystery, and I wanted
to solve it, but I wasn’t going to force it into the
conventions of a ‘story.’ I wanted to move backwards
through time, uncovering clues that would point to how
this cultural phenomenon came into being. I started
with that idea and eventually the form of a filmic
spiral shaped itself in my head – one that would move
three-dimensionally around the subject (insects in
Japanese culture through time), while allowing the
periphery (history, philosophy, religion) to inform the
framing.
I did extensive research before traveling to Japan – I
drafted a 20-page essay containing pieces of Japanese
history and philosophy that I wanted to include in the
film. As the editing process progressed I continued to
refine the ‘essay,’ skimming off outer details. That
shortened essay (at three and a half pages) was
translated into Japanese and became the voice over.
Between editing the footage and writing and editing the
narration, it was a very organic process. Everything
just seemed to fall into place.
In general, what kind of
relationship do Japanese kids have with the insect
world, and how does this compare with the relationship
most American kids have?
A Japanese child’s relation to insects isn’t that
different from an American’s child connection – if you
catch them young enough. Most young children don’t have
an innate fear of bugs (from my experience watching
thousands of them pass through the butterfly vivarium
at the American Museum of Natural History). It isn’t
until they see the dad flinch or the mom scream that
they learn disgust or fear. What’s different with
Japanese children is that they are encouraged to
explore the insect world.
They keep them as pets, their dads take them on insect
collecting trips, and they travel halfway across the
country to watch the fireflies emerge at dusk. Of
course I am really generalizing – but the phenomenon is
generally quite widespread. I think that an
individual’s understanding of the natural world is
still mostly directly absorbed through the behavior of
the people he or she admires, and that that is one of
the reasons why this connection to insects continues to
thrive in Japanese culture.
Did the people you met think it was
odd that you, an American filmmaker, were so interested
in this particular aspect of Japanese culture?
Everyone seemed happy to have us, though they were
often confused by why we were making this film. We got
a lot of, “What? They don’t sell beetles in America?”
What can this film teach
Westerners about Japanese culture and values? What do
you hope will really resonate with your viewers?
Those are big questions. What I have learned from
Japanese culture that I think about most often is the
concept of mono no aware. Essentially, mono no aware is
the appreciation of beauty that is transient. For
instance, to the Japanese, cherry blossoms are the most
beautiful when they are falling. But mono no aware has
implications outside of this definition. It isn’t
necessarily limited to beauty – it is also about
focusing on each moment as it passes. It sounds
hackneyed to say “appreciate the moment,” but making
Beetle Queen has helped me do that
(at least more often than I used to).
I hope this is something viewers take away from the
film as well, but I don’t want to limit the potential
influences it could have. I have seen many diverse
reactions. Plenty of people have been surprised by the
loss of their fear, or by newfound knowledge, or a
novel appreciation of beauty in unanticipated facets of
their lives. But my favorite story is of a World War II
veteran who approached me after a screening of Beetle Queen. He said something to
the effect of, “For fifty years I have thought of
the Japanese as my enemy. And in the past hour and a
half, you have changed that.”