踊るあほうに観るあほう、同じあほなら踊らにゃそんそん

"We're fools whether or not we dance, so we might as well dance"

I'm finally getting around to writing about a topic that has both great personal significance and relevant to visual anthropology- dance.  The anthropology of dance is a growing branch of anthropology that examines the dance as a form of cultural knowledge.  It looks at how the choreography, representation, and social practice of dance are means to understanding identity and cultural behaviors, often relying on the visual spectacle of performance.

In Japan, my experience with dance has been quite diverse.   It's easy to find almost any kind of dance here, often in unexpected places.  For instance, Kansai Gaidai has its own flamenco club, and there is a thriving swing scene in Osaka.  And, if you happen to end up in Hirakata's Hawaiian restaurant on the right day, you may even be lucky enough to watch or participate in a hula performance. 

In Japan, the idea of dance anthropology may elicit ideas of traditional dance, which are still very present in Japanese culture.   These are easy to find in the Kansai area, such as Kyoto Maiko performances and festival dances.  A few weeks ago, Kansai Gaidai gave students the chance to see a performance of Bonodori, a traditional summer festival dance.   After the performance, students got a chance to learn the dance and participate.  This demonstrates one of the principal tenants of anthropology, that culture is learned and shared.  In a globalized world, this 'sharing' often crosses international borders. 

In light of the dynamism of Japanese culture, we can also see other forms of dance that are adopted and fitted to Japanese life.  By far one of the most interesting to me is the B-boy culture of break-dancers that practice around the train stations, notably Hirakata and Osaka.  After weeks of timidly watching the dancers practice in the stations, I got a chance to speak with them and take some photos.  While choreographed dance takes the interest of many anthropologists, it is also useful to interpret movement that is less calculated, more natural.  When you watch a practice, you see more than a finished product.  You see the progress made and the social relationships that create that are involved.

The dancers I talked to in Hirakata station have been practicing for years, and to my eye, all seemed very talented.  Some dancers go alone to practice, secluded by their headphones.  However, the students I spoke with practiced in a group, and even the audience of foreign spectators didn't seem to inspire any competition.

This is a pretty useful description of the Osaka street dancing culture:

http://www.osaka-brand.jp/en/kaleidoscope/topics/index5.html