I have shared my fear of heights and staircases for a while now, and yesterday was probably my worst time in that horrific world. My role in Les Sewing Sisters is to interview the homeowner and be part of the scenery in the upcoming documentary film of the band’s tour of Japanese homes and closets. We went to what I thought was the home of a wealthy collector who collects Lun*na’s art and other artists. He also has a sizable collection of mannequins and dummies of all sorts. From the outside, his structure has no windows, except for the glass front door, which leads to the area where one takes shoes off before officially entering the home. The home is actually a private museum for himself to keep his collection in order. This is his third or fourth building, and he, with an architect, designed the structure. Once I thoroughly walked in, I realized I couldn’t be in this space.
The only natural light is the transparent ceiling, which is open to the sky but not a window in sight. When you walk in, one is on the third floor. There are two more stories above and three floors down below. The concrete steps are steep and deep, and there are no railings. Plexi-glass destroys any intimacy, and one is always floating or not having any sense of gravity. I looked up and felt my body getting into that state of being, which I recognized was the start of an anxiety attack. I looked down, and that was even worse. Where I was standing, it seemed there was an open entrance to the space, but you couldn’t see the stairs until you were about to walk down it.
It is not an ample space, which makes it worse that I feel like I will fall through space. The owner was kind enough to offer me a seat at the floor’s entrance, and I sat there for ten minutes until I couldn’t stand it anymore. I ran out of the building and left my job behind.
The film crew took the photos you see here. He has a massive collection of turntables and mannequin heads, mostly mid-century dummies. I find collections fascinating because I often feel they are a self-portrait of the owner. But how this structure is designed left me anxious and approaching a panic state. As I descended the road, I texted the crew and told them I wasn’t returning that day. I headed toward Shibuya by foot and bus, where I was lucky to find Meiji-dori, a central boulevard.
Walking around Shibuya and spending some time listening to the new Rolling Stones album at Tower Records, I find myself fighting against feelings of anxiety and panic. I had to focus on that Stones album, which is not good. I then found an Italian restaurant and had a small bottle of red wine and pizza. The food made me feel better, but the wine helped. As mentioned, I quit drinking last year, but I started drinking every night on this trip to Japan due to my lifestyle here and the results of my previous panic attack in Meguro. Mostly red wine, with a touch of beer. It can’t be helpful to my weight issues or my mental state. I’m not dead, but I’m a mess.
It’s either a blessing or a sign of trouble that I ran into a billboard projection on the side of Tower Records of the British artists Gilbert and George doing one of their performances. They are usually a favorite of mine, but with how my mind works these days, I’m not sure if they suit my soul or well-being. Tonight will be the last performance of the Les Sewing Sisters show, and I think the consistent filming will stop as well. I’m deadly exhausted due to the traveling and a performance every night for the last two weeks. And I also have some troubling physical health issues that I have to be taken care of once I get back to Los Angeles. The only thing that keeps me going is the love of Les Sewing Sisters, my in-depth passion for Japan, and all its complexities and wonderment.
Tosh, you're a trouper for Art and your response is an integral part of this trip, to be treated with compassion and respect, as I'm sure it is... Do take care!
Thanks Tosh, you’re really sacrificing a lot to do this and from what I’ve seen it should be terrific. Les Sewing Sisters is such a unique creation and I’m intrigued by the concept of making music that way. I’ve never experienced the fear of stairs or heights. I can’t imagine it but I certainly empathize.