Research and Methodology Paper

When giving a presentation on Golden Gai, a neighborhood on the fringes of Tokyo’s Kabuki-cho district, I had difficultly convincing students that the neighborhood, which constantly faces the threat of becoming yet another high-rise complex in the Shinjuku Ward, deserves to be preserved after all. Indeed, as a former black-market and blue light district, Golden Gai certainly has a colorful history, but these are not aspects of Tokyo’s history most people feel compelled to preserve. Moreover, while the low-rise buildings are a rare sight among the ubiquitous skyscrapers in Shinjuku, the structures are rather dilapidated, many of them having not been updated since the 1940’s. The area is also notoriously private, with the many signs prohibiting filming and photography attesting to this fact. Entry can also prove daunting; most bars have cover fees of 500 to 1000 yen just to get a seat, some bars require an introduction, and still others do not admit foreigners. Thus, on paper, Golden Gai’s appeal does not seem immediately clear. However, more than its architecture or history, the draw of Golden Gai lies in the experience it provides, and after going there, one finds an atmosphere unlike any other in Tokyo. As such, my methodology was founded in this experiential element of Golden Gai.

That said, my initial plans for research did not reflect this stance. I started by researching the history of Golden Gai in several books about Kabuki-cho and Tokyo in general. As I found out, after the occupation ended, the neighborhood was transformed into a “nomiya” district, filled with many tiny bars. During the 1960’s, the area become a cultural center, attracting the likes of Mishima Yukio and Ozu Yasujiro. It was much bigger in size than it used to be; a number of landowners have sold their much valued real estate over the years, and the area now consists of just several narrow alleyways that retain a vestige of post-war Tokyo. I also read several news articles on the topic of Golden Gai’s atmosphere and uncertain future. After finishing my initial research, I came up with a list of potential interviewees and questions. I decided I wanted to interview a “talking head” who could talk about Golden Gai’s history and culture, at least one bartender, and at least one client who had been coming to Golden Gai regularly for a fairly long time. I planned to ask them mainly about the history of the neighborhood.

As stated before, Golden Gai is a steadfastly private place – the residents fear that any unwanted attention will cause an influx of curious visitors that will change the urban fabric of the neighborhood. Indeed, as I would later find out from the interviewees, Golden Gai has changed considerably in the past 5 years alone: the amount of bars has nearly doubled, and the once exclusively Japanese clientele now has given way to a large number of tourists who have discovered the area from guidebooks. The residents’ desire for privacy coupled with the flood of tourists who do not understand the Japanese bar system, have led to the aforementioned restrictions. (As our interviewees speculated, the prohibitions on photography could also be attributed to the number of famous actors, musicians, filmmakers, artists, and other prominent figures who frequent the area.)

As such, gaining access to the area proved extremely difficult. I went to several bars, but my efforts proved fruitless: even after spending an amount of money that is exorbitant for a non-drinking, broke college student such as myself, the bartenders and clientele were likewise reluctant to give interviews. (Some offered to have un-filmed “chats” instead, while others declined to talk about Golden Gai’s history altogether.) Because of time and money constraints, I abandoned the façade of innocent bartender and adopted an straightforward approach by stating my intentions of conducting interviews upfront. Using this approach, I found my bar of choice: Aces. Reassured by the sign on the front door (“If you have a problem, ask me! I love English and you”), I entered the bar, camera in hand, along with Shinya, the Japanese translator in the group, and two female friends studying abroad at Keio University. Much to my delight, I received a welcoming reception.

Before I continue with this particular experience, there are two unique aspects about Golden Gai that I would like to bring up. The first is that each bar tends to be specialized around a certain theme, the most famous being La Jetee, which pays homage to French avant-garde film and is known as a haunt for famous filmmakers such as Quentin Tarantino and Francis Ford Coppola. Aces was no exception to this rule: the owner, Yamashita Tsuyoshi, went to college in Colorado before returning to Japan, and the décor is reminiscent of the American southwest, with Georgia O’Keefe-esque animal skulls displayed on the walls and movies such as No Country For Old Men playing in the background.

The second point I would like to bring up is the demographics of the clientele. As stated before, a sizeable amount of tourists come to the area, and indeed, we met people from around the world at Aces. However, more interesting to note are Golden Gai regulars, who go to the same bar almost every night, making the place their second home. This was an important factor in the methodology of the project, which I will explain later.

Anyhow, back to the first night of filming: because it was still “early” by Golden Gai standards (read: a little after 8), there were only 2 clients at the bar, both regulars. My Keio friends talked to the other bargoers while I broke the ice with Yamashita-san. Talking about the nature of my project and the difficulties I had encountered in its undertaking, I received a sympathetic response. I then started asking Yamashita-san about his experiences in America, which lead to a conversation about various personal matters. In doing so, I feel that I was able to establish a more comfortable relationship with him as well as gaining insight into the workings of Golden Gai. I also asked about the history of Golden Gai, to which Yamashita-san replied that he didn’t know too much about it, but the regulars offered some tidbits. The topic of the neighborhood’s possible destruction produced a similar situation.

After an hour or so had passed, I decided to start filming, asking a series of questions that I had written out beforehand. I started out by asking general personal information, then got into matters of Golden Gai’s history and uniqueness. The interview, as well as the preceding conversation, was conducted in English. I did not have a tripod or microphone with me at the time, so this interview was conducted as a first run, in order to have him become more accustomed to the camera and talking about the subject matter I had inquired about. It also allowed me to examine which elements I needed to improve or alter.

Once my interview finished, one of the regulars, Tanaka-san, offered to do an interview as well. I had actually not intended to interview anyone else in the bar that night; my original bar was to go over to the Albatross, per Professor Herrera’s recommendation, to interview the bartender there. However, interviewing Tanaka-san changed the course of the project for the better – he proved to be a valuable source of information, and by concentrating on one single bar, I became a “regular” of sorts. Granted, I was not drinking there every night, but I did get to know the people there fairly well, and this “regular” aspect was an important part of my revised methodology, which gradually came to reflect the more intangible, experiential elements of Golden Gai rather than simply its history.

I came back the next week with a slightly revised set of questions – the changes reflected my newly adopted methodology and my interview with Donald Richie (see below). The process was much the same, as I chatted with the interviewees beforehand and while setting up the equipment in order to have a more relaxed atmosphere. This time, the interview with Yamashita was conducted in Japanese (he was obviously more comfortable speaking his native tongue and it added to the atmosphere). I tried to make the interview questions open-ended, broad, or coupled with other questions. The inquiries were as follows:

For Yamashita: How old are you and what is your name? When did you first come to Golden Gai and why did you come here? What has changed since you first came to Golden Gai? What do you like about Golden Gai and what do you think could change? What makes Golden Gai unique? Can you talk about Golden Gai's history? Why are there signs prohibiting photography and filming?

For Tanaka: How old are you and what is your name? When did you first come to Golden Gai and why did you come here? What has changed since you first came to Golden Gai? What do you like about Golden Gai and what do you think could change? What makes Golden Gai unique? Can you talk about Golden Gai's history? What do you think of tourists? Is it true that Golden Gai has been purchased, and what would happen if it were replaced by high rise buildings? How do you think Golden Gai will change in the future? What will you do if Golden Gai disappears? Do you think it should be preserved?

While the experiences leading up to the final interviews were often difficult, I was very satisfied with the material in the end – the answers were alternately very personal and objective, creating interesting oral histories of Golden Gai and its loyal followers.

The process of procuring a “talking head” was similarly difficult but rewarding. I had originally toyed with the idea of asking Donald Richie for an interview after reading his book Tokyo, but I was somewhat intimidated. In my research, I found out about the Shinjuku Historical Museum, which I thought would be a perfect resource. After talking to a museum worker, Shiguchi-san, I was under the impression that an interview was certain. However, when I went to the museum, he insisted that he was “not an expert” and referred our group to the Shinjuku Ward Office. Much to my dismay, they likewise informed us that Golden Gai was not their area of expertise, and told us to instead talk to the head of the Golden Gai Neighborhood Association, Okuyama-san. However, Shinya had not been able to talk to Okuyama-san by July 2^nd, and the encroaching deadline caused me to panic. In what I thought would be a fruitless move, I decided to go back with my first choice – Donald Richie. Fortunately, I was able to obtain an interview with Richie between 6 and 6:30 on July 4^th. Because of the one-shot nature of the interview, everything had to be done efficiently and correctly (unfortunately, it was not – I had troubles with the sound, which taught me to really make sure you know what you are doing before using equipment).

After meeting Mr. Richie at Super Deluxe in Roppongi, he informed the group that he wanted to eat dinner in Roppongi Hills. While the walk over there and the buying of food took up valuable time, I also gained an opportunity to break the ice with Mr. Richie in a similar fashion to what I had done with the previous interviewees. I first informed him about the topics I would be inquiring about (i.e., Golden Gai’s history, its transformation into a cultural center, how it reflects post-war Japan, and the neighborhood’s uncertain future). I also tried finding common ground by talking about film, literature, and the like, and continued such conversation while I was setting up the equipment. Once I had finished, I told Mr. Richie I was ready to film, and I took out the questions I had planned to ask him, but much to my surprise, he did not even allow me time to ask questions. Instead, he launched into a very eloquent speech about the aforementioned topics. The footage was very self-contained and really showed his expertise in the area.

While the other two interviews were more relaxed oral histories, Mr. Richie’s was more factual and objective. Despite their differences, however, both provided positive points, and I think having such different styles strengthened the quality of my resulting video.