Ghost of Genpei

I love Czech Design Week. I’m not a huge fan of DesignBlok (for some reason it always makes me a little bit depressed), but I always loved Czech Design Week.
Despite my feelings, I don’t attend this event every time. Because usually in the beginning of September I find myself busy with something else (why does everything always wait until autumn? where was all of it during the summer? I was here, where was everything?), and sometimes I need a special reason to finally make it.

One person can’t do everything, but if at the end of the workday there’s at least one location that’s still opened, one person goes there (well, technically, there were two of us). Luckily, on Thursdays the Museum of Prague works until 20.00, and (what’s even better) that’s where the most interesting part of the festival (New Generation) was located (by the way, no accompanying texts in English were found, like Czech Design Week is not intended to appeal to tourists or casual expats, but since the week is Czech, maybe it’s okay).
Of course, now I will go to Mánes too (the ticket has already been bought, what else should I do?), but at first I wanted to see the Samurai by Seiji Sakuma (as the title New Generation suggests, this was a graduation project).

My regular reader probably is already familiar with this name from somewhere (I’ve got no illusions, and I know my readership, and only for the reasons of privacy I do not use specific names, that is, name). And of course, my reader has every reason to suspect that there is some kind of connection. And he is right, because there is.

The «soft» vases by Karolína Kučerová were unforgettable, the mirror by Anastasia Mazur was the first one in many years in whose reflection I wanted to take a selfie, the composition with corn by František Jungvirt will remain in my memory forever, and this year’s Design Week is already better (for me) than the previous one, but now let’s say a couple of words about the Samurai.

It is made of clay (in 1:1 scale), like the best creations of the Kofun and the Asuka periods. He is as stern as the Stone Guest (or Don Gonzalo), but fragile as not-a-samurai by Tetsuya Noguchi. It appears to be richly decorated, but no, it still retains the ferocity of the pre-Edo period. It has a green patina shade, but the new form of life (butterfly, spider… chrysanthemum under the helmet…) has settled in and on it in a completely different way than in the creatures of Laputa (let’s use this one as an example, it seems to be suitable). He looks like a huge toy armour, but it’s not a suit (and, honestly, without sleeves, he has more resemblance to a bonshō, temple bell, on a pedestal, than to a traditional home display on Boys’ Day). It looks like an empty shell, but it doesn’t need anyone to wear it. He is self-sufficient, everything is fine for him as it is.

However, haniwa aside, the main thing I can think of in the end is Ghost of Yōtei, and more specifically, the Spider Lily General quest (and Spider’s mask, and the Armour of the Undying). Because, as we remember, art has no effect on me. But the games I’ve played have.
So the second main thing I can think of is that there are advantages in having such a dense September schedule: I won’t even notice how time flies until the story expansion about Sekigahara comes out in October (and time will fly by even faster if I visit some places twice; for example, I had to went back to the Samurai, because I wanted to take a couple more photos and to double-check my associations — a decision I’m happy with, because even a short break was enough to see everything in the exhibition hall a little differently).

But the third thing that comes to mind after this part of the exhibition (and this is the most important thing, the Thing) is what will be done with the Samurai when Design Week is over. Where will they take it, where will they put it, will the floor hold it, and so on. That’s where the real Samurai’s mystery lays. And mystery is always the most interesting part. It’s a shame it remains a mystery. It’s good that it remains one.