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Above and below the streets: A musical geography of anti-nuclear protest in Tokyo
街道上下: 东京反核抗议的音乐地理
Alexander James 亚历山大 · 詹姆斯 Brown 布朗
Abstract
摘要
Affects such as anger, fear and love have compelled Tokyoites to take to the streets in protest in the wake of the Fukushima nuclear disaster of March 2011. One of the characteristic forms these
protests have taken has been the anti-nuclear “sound demonstrations” in which bands, DJs and rappers perform from the backs of trucks that lead demonstrators through the streets. Projecting
their emotive music through urban space with the aid of powerful sound systems, these demonstrations disrupt the everyday noises of the neoliberal city and create a public space for the
vocalisation of dissent. After the demonstrations, these same artists and demonstrators move to the underground live houses and social centres that constitute a subterranean backbone to the
visible demonstrations in the street. Expressing emotions through musical protest is a powerful motor for what Stevphen Shukatitis has called affective composition, the process via which
collective political subjectivities are formed through the expression of shared emotions. This paper outlines the emotional geography of anti-nuclear music in post-Fukushima Tokyo. It examines
the dynamic interplay between aboveground political protest and the city's subterranean network of musical performance spaces.
在2011年3月福岛核灾难之后,愤怒、恐惧和爱等情感迫使东京人走上街头抗议。这些抗议活动的典型形式之一是反核“声音示威”,乐队、 dj 和说唱歌手在引导示威者穿过街道的卡车后面表演。在
强大的音响系统的帮助下,这些示威者通过城市空间投射他们感性的音乐,扰乱了这个新自由主义城市的日常噪音,并为异议者的发声创造了一个公共空间。示威之后,这些艺术家和示威者搬到地
下活动房屋和社交中心,这些地下活动房屋和社交中心是街上明显示威活动的支柱。通过音乐抗议来表达情感,是斯蒂芬 · 舒克瓦斯所说的情感合成的强大动力,集体政治主体通过共同情感的表达
而形成的过程。本文概述了福岛核事故后东京反核音乐的情感地理。它考察了地上政治抗议和城市音乐表演空间的地下网络之间的动态相互作用。
Keywords
关键词
Japan 日本; Affect 影响; Music 音乐; Space 太空; Protest 抗议; Emotion 情感
In late 2011 I arrived in Tokyo to conduct research into the vibrant anti-nuclear movement which developed in the wake of a serious nuclear accident at the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear power plant
caused by the earthquake and tsunami disasters of 11 March 2011. For eighteen months I travelled through the spaces of the anti-nuclear movement and the broader activist culture in which it was
situated. As I attended street demonstrations, public meetings and fundraising concerts and visited sit-in tents and social centres I became increasingly aware of how the diffuse geography of anti-
nuclear protest was connected through a common musical “soundtrack” (Flanary, 2011, Gonoi, 2012, p. 194). In December 2011, I took a train to a small, dark and smoky underground musical
performance venue called “soup” located in the Kamiochiai district of Tokyo's Shinjuku ward. My destination was Ikiteireba matsuri 2 (If You Are Alive Festival 2), the second in a series of
concerts which featured bands who had performed at one or more of the many Genpatsu Yamero (No Nukes) “sound demonstrations” that were organized by activist network Amateur Revolt in
response to the Fukushima disaster.
2011年末,我抵达东京,对充满活力的东京反核运动进行研究。2011年3月11日,由于地震和海啸灾难,东京福岛第一核电厂发生了严重的核事故。在18个月的时间里,我游历了反核运动的空间和
它所处的更广泛的活动家文化。当我参加街头示威、公众集会和筹款音乐会,参观静坐帐篷和社交中心时,我越来越意识到反核抗议的分散地域是如何通过一个共同的音乐“配乐”(Flanary,2011
年,Gonoi,2012年,第194页)联系在一起的。2011年12月,我坐火车来到位于 Kamiochiai 的 Shinjuku 病房,一个小小的、昏暗的、烟雾缭绕的地下音乐表演场所,名为“汤”。我的目的地是
Ikiteireba matsuri 2(If You Are Alive Festival 2) ,这是一系列音乐会中的第二场,这些音乐会的特色是乐队在许多 Genpatsu Yamero (No Nukes)“声音示威”中的一个或多个表演,这些“声音示
威”是激进网络业余反抗组织为应对福岛灾难而组织的。
“Sound demonstrations” first emerged in Tokyo in 2003. They feature musical performers representing a range of genres who play from the backs of trucks leading blocs of demonstrators through
the city streets (Cassegard, 2014, Driscoll, 2007, Hayashi and McKnight, 2005). The Genpatsu Yamero protests were organized by a network of activists who call themselves “Amateur Revolt”.
The network was formed in 2005 (Matsumoto and Futatsugi, 2008) in response to the growing insecurity and instability faced by a generation which has been largely excluded from regular, full-
time work since Japan's post-war high economic growth period came to an end in the early 1990s (Obinger, 2013). As sociologist Oguma (2012),1 has observed, the image of the crippled reactor
shells at Fukushima Daiichi delivered yet another blow to people's faith in Japan's decaying industrial society. The “sound demonstration” was already a mainstay of the Amateur Revolt network's
protest repertoire as they sought to draw attention to the proliferating risks (Beck, 1992) faced by young people in the metropolis. After Fukushima, it became a form of anti-nuclear protest.
2003年,“声音示威”首次在东京出现。他们的音乐表演者代表了一系列的音乐类型,他们在卡车的后面演奏,带领一群示威者穿过城市的街道(Cassegard,2014,Driscoll,2007,Hayashi 和
McKnight,2005)。Genpatsu Yamero 抗议活动是由一个自称为”业余起义”的活动分子网络组织的。该网络成立于2005年(Matsumoto 和 Futatsugi,2008年) ,是为了应对日本这一代人面临的日
益增长的不安全感和不稳定性,自日本战后高速经济增长时期在20世纪90年代初结束以来,这一代人基本上被排除在正常的全职工作之外(Obinger,2013年)。正如社会学家 Oguma (2012)所观察
到的,福岛第一核电站核反应堆残损的形象再次打击了人们对日本衰败的工业社会的信心。“健全的示威”已经成为业余反抗网络抗议节目的中流砥柱,因为他们试图引起人们对大都市年轻人面临的
激增风险的注意(贝克,1992)。在福岛事件之后,这成为了一种反核抗议的形式。
The If You Are Alive Festival 2 concert took place in one of a number of small bars, “live houses”,2 bookshops and second-hand clothing stores associated with Amateur Revolt and a broader
activist milieu in Tokyo that is known among participants as the “Nantoka” community. The word “nantoka” has the sense of “somehow” as in the phrase “nantoka suru” (“I'll manage somehow”),
or “something” as in “nantoka naru” (“something will work out”). It is a term frequently used by people who are scraping by in the risky and alienated social and economic landscape of post-
industrial Tokyo. Participants in this network of activist spaces evoke a “Nantoka community” both through these everyday linguistic practices and by publishing the monthly newsletter, Tokyo
Nantoka. The newsletter contains a “what's on” style guide to the concerts, meetings, film screenings and workshops which take place in a variety of activist spaces maintained by members of the
community. By referring to themselves as part of a “Nantoka community”, participants evoke a sense of the collective experience which they share with others in a similar situation. Music,
whether performed in the streets as part of the sound demonstrations or in underground spaces like “soup”, is an important part of the cultural life of the Nantoka community. The If You Are
Alive concert, where musicians from the anti-nuclear sound demonstrations performed at one of the permanent spaces associated with the Nantoka community, connected these two sonic spaces.
Brown and Pickerill (2009, p. 28) explain how “emotional journeys through activism incorporate different relationships, times, places, scales, memories and more”. In this paper I examine the
“emotional journeys” that are mediated by music in two types of space: aboveground street demonstrations and the underground “live houses” and activist spaces which are maintained by the
Nantoka community. These spaces play different but complementary roles in creating and maintaining a sense of community. Sound demonstrations are conducted in the streets, an open and
public space which makes them more accessible but less coherent. Underground spaces like “soup”, however, are less public. They are less accessible to those without a pre-existing connection to
the community and are therefore more intimate. They favour the development of close, ongoing social relationships. Music is part of the glue that holds the community together across these two
geographic scales.
1. 情感、空间和声音: 从集体认同到情感构成
Sociologist James Jasper (1998, pp. 397–399) has argued that scholars of social movements have not paid sufficient attention to the role of the emotions in collective action. He ascribes this
failure in part to an overemphasis on notions of rationality and the false presumption that rationality and emotion are incompatible. As Joseph Davies (2002, p. 24) observes, people rarely
participate in social movements without a strong emotional attachment to the movement. Nor is protest simply a means of achieving instrumental goals or expressing frustration over injustice. It
can also be a source of pleasure. “Losing oneself” in collective motion, by marching together in the street can be a pleasurable experience in itself. Music and dance in particular have the power to
facilitate closeness between strangers, making music a key tool to promote solidarity in emerging movements (Jasper, 1998, p. 418).
社会学家詹姆斯 · 贾斯珀(1998,397-399页)认为,社会运动的学者没有充分关注情绪在集体行动中的作用。他把这种失败部分归因于过分强调理性概念和理性与情感不相容的错误假设。正如约瑟夫
· 戴维斯(2002年,第24页)所观察到的那样,人们很少在没有强烈的情感依恋的情况下参与社会运动。抗议也不仅仅是实现工具性目标或表达对不公正的失望的一种手段。它也可以成为快乐的源
泉。在集体运动中“迷失自我”,一起走在街上本身就是一种愉快的体验。音乐和舞蹈尤其有助于促进陌生人之间的亲密关系,使音乐成为促进新兴运动中团结一致的关键工具(Jasper,1998,第418
页)。
Collective rituals like concerts and street demonstrations are important means of fostering collective emotional expression (Collins, 2004, p. 108). As Jasper (1998, p. 418) explains, “collective
rites remind participants of their basic moral commitments, stir up strong emotions, and reinforce a sense of solidarity with the group, a ‘we-ness’”. Jasper argues that singing and dancing
produce moments “when a large group can attain a certain coordination and unity, can silence the small groups talking among themselves, [and] can concentrate the attention of all”. Eyerman
and Jamison (1998, p. 161) suggest that these qualities of music can facilitate the development of a “collective identity” among movement participants. Manabe (2012) has extended their
argument to the anti-nuclear movement in Japan after the March 2011 disaster.
集体仪式,如音乐会和街头示威,是培养集体情感表达的重要手段(Collins,2004,108页)。正如贾斯珀(1998,第418页)解释的,“集体仪式提醒参与者他们的基本道德承诺,激起强烈的情感,并加
强与集体的团结意识,一个‘我们”’。贾斯珀认为,唱歌和跳舞产生的时刻“当一个大团体可以达到一定的协调和统一,可以使小团体之间的交谈安静下来,并可以集中所有人的注意力”。Eyerman 和
Jamison (1998,第161页)认为,音乐的这些品质可以促进运动参与者之间“集体身份”的发展。在2011年3月的灾难发生后,Manabe (2012)将他们的观点扩展到了日本的反核运动。
Social movement scholar Albert Melucci (1989, p. 34), who first proposed the notion of collective identity, defined it as
an interactive and shared definition produced by several interacting individuals who are concerned with the orientations of their action as well as the field of opportunities and constraints in
which their action takes place.
社会运动学者阿尔伯特 · 梅鲁奇(1989年,第34页)首先提出了集体认同的概念,他将集体认同定义为
由几个相互作用的个体产生的互动和共享的定义,这些个体关心他们行动的方向以及他们行动发生的机会和限制领域。
As he later explained, collective identity was meant to be “of help in addressing the interactive and sometimes contradictory processes lying behind what appears as a stable and coherent
definition of a given collective actor” (Melucci, 1996, p. 72). Melucci wished to elucidate a social process, rather than identify a discrete entity through the term. Yet, as Melucci acknowledges, the
term identity “remains semantically inseparable from the idea of permanence and may, perhaps for this very reason, be ill suited for the processual analysis for which I am arguing” (Melucci,
1996, p. 70).
正如他后来解释的那样,集体身份是为了“帮助解决一个给定的集体行为者似乎是一个稳定和连贯的定义背后的相互作用的、有时是矛盾的过程”(Melucci,1996年,第72页)。梅鲁奇希望阐明一个
社会过程,而不是通过这个术语来确定一个离散的实体。然而,正如梅鲁奇所承认的那样,“身份”这个词“在语义上仍然与永恒的概念密不可分,也许正是因为这个原因,可能不适合我所主张的过
程分析”(梅鲁奇,1996年,第70页)。
Sociologist Kevin McDonald (2002, p. 111) argues that the notion of collective identity has come to constitute “a significant obstacle to our capacity to explore the forms of social struggle
characterizing social formations that increasingly take the form of networks, scapes and flows”. Against the notion of collective identity he argues that actors in contemporary networked social
movements engage in “a struggle for subjectivity” characterized by “the emergence of an ethic grounded in an experience of self and other, as opposed to an ethic of ‘us’” (McDonald, 2002, p. 125).
He emphasizes the importance of the “small groups” whom Jasper admits do not always join in the collective dance. Writing about dance music at alter-globalization demonstrations in Melbourne
in 2000, McDonald notes that rather than trying to generate a collective identity, the dance party in the streets aimed “to change the codes that govern urban experience”. He explains that “this is
not an experience of simultaneity as one of temporal acceleration and loss of capacity to produce distance, but one of multiplicity”.
社会学家凯文 · 麦克唐纳(2002年,第111页)认为,集体认同的概念已经构成了“一个重大的障碍,阻碍了我们探索社会形态特征的社会斗争形式的能力,这些社会形态越来越多地以网络、环境和流
动的形式出现”。他反对集体认同的观念,认为当代网络化社会运动的参与者从事“主体性的斗争”,拥有属性是“基于自我和他人体验的伦理的出现,而不是‘我们’的伦理”(McDonald,2002,第125
页)。他强调“小团体”的重要性,贾斯珀承认并不总是加入集体舞蹈。2000年,麦克唐纳在墨尔本另类全球化运动的示威活动中谈到舞蹈音乐时指出,街头舞会并没有试图创造一种集体身份,而是
旨在“改变城市体验的规范”。他解释说,”这不是一种时间加速和丧失产生距离能力的同时体验,而是一种多重性体验”。
The movement from “collective identity” to multiple “struggles for subjectivity” which McDonald has observed reflects the changing nature of social protest in the “network society” (Castells,
1996). Social movements in Tokyo today are defined less by shared ideological commitments or formal group memberships than by practices which intervene in and transform public space so as
to create forms of “autonomous space” (Mōri, 2003, Watanabe, 2012, pp. 104–139). In a recent essay, Carl Cassegard (2012) posits that the relationship between the public spaces of the street
demonstrations and autonomous spaces are mediated through play. Play, he argues, can ameliorate the feelings of powerlessness which many of the precarious participants in Amateur Revolt's
anti-nuclear demonstrations experience through their social and economic marginalization. He posits that what he terms “alternative space”, which I refer to in this essay as “autonomous spaces”
“can contribute to empowerment [by providing] ‘shelters’ to the subaltern from the pressures of mainstream society”. Music and dance can be seen as forms of “playful empowerment” which
facilitate participation in political protest and create a sense of community among disempowered and alienated youth.
麦克唐纳观察到的从“集体认同”到多元“主体性斗争”的运动,反映了“网络社会”中社会抗议的变化本质(卡斯特尔,1996)。今天东京的社会运动的定义,与其说是共同的意识形态承诺或正式的团体
成员身份,不如说是干预和改造公共空间以创造”自治空间”形式的做法(m ri,2003,渡边,2012,104-139页)。在最近的一篇文章中,卡尔 · 卡斯加德(2012)认为街头示威的公共空间和自治空间之
间的关系是通过玩耍来调节的。他认为,玩耍可以改善许多参加业余反核示威的人由于社会和经济边缘化而产生的无力感。他断定,他所谓的“替代空间”,我在这篇文章中称之为“自治空间”,“可
以通过为来自主流社会压力的底层人士提供‘庇护所’而有助于赋权”。音乐和舞蹈可以被看作是一种”好玩的赋权”形式,有助于参与政治抗议,并在被剥夺权力和被疏远的青年中创造一种社区感。
The culture of the anti-nuclear movement in Tokyo is characterized by ambiguous and shifting subjectivities which convene around common demands to end nuclear power but often diverge on
tactical and philosophical questions. Jasper (1998, p. 418) acknowledges the tension between notions of “collective identity” and the real differences which persist between participants in protest
movements. He writes that for participants in a protest to “lose themselves” in a collective expression of “we-ness” they “must know the dances and the lyrics” but that “it is hard to imagine all
participants joining in”. As Hardt and Negri (2004) have observed, the carnivalesque protest movements which have become popular throughout the world in the past decade contain a “multitude
of singular subjectivities” which manage to find expression through the protests. Melucci (1996, p. 72) writes that he has retained the notion of collective identity “for the simple reason that for the
present, no better linguistic solution seems available”. He acknowledges, however, that this is “a temporary solution to a conceptual problem, and should be replaced if and when other concepts
prove themselves more adequate.”
东京反核运动的文化是一个模棱两可的、不断变化的主观拥有属性,围绕着结束核能的共同要求而聚集,但在战术和哲学问题上却常常意见分歧。贾斯珀(1998年,第418页)承认“集体认同”的概念
和抗议运动参与者之间持续存在的真正差异之间的紧张关系。他写道,对于集体表达“我们”的抗议者来说,他们“必须知道舞蹈和歌词”,但“很难想象所有参与者都会加入”。正如哈特和内格里
(2004年)所观察到的,在过去十年中在全世界流行起来的狂欢式抗议运动包含了“大量单一的主体性”,这些主体性通过抗议得到了表达。梅鲁奇(1996年,第72页)写道,他保留了集体认同的概
念,“原因很简单,就目前而言,似乎没有更好的语言解决方案”。然而,他承认,这是“一个概念问题的临时解决方案,如果其他概念证明自己更加充分,就应该被取代。”
As I argue below, in the anti-nuclear movement sound demonstration, organizers don't try to unite participants in a single dance but provide a space in which everyone can express themselves
according to their own rhythm. In Gerbaudo's (2012) study of square occupations in different parts of the world in 2011 he found that movement organizers continue to exercise forms of “soft”
leadership via social media that contributed to the way protests are “choreographed”. We can see evidence of similar tendencies in the Genpatsu Yamero movement, where key activists like
Matsumoto Hajime and Amamiya Karin (Driscoll, 2015) maintained regular blogs where they wrote about the protests and encouraged people to participate with evocative language. Nevertheless,
unlike more traditional forms of social movement leadership, these activists encouraged participants to find their own protest style. In light of the limitations of notions of identity in a precarious
and diverse social field I suggest that an alternative to “collective identity” is both necessary and possible. Stevphen Shukaitis's (2007) term “affective composition” provides one way of
conceptualizing the move beyond notions of “collective identity”. Affective composition denotes the fluid and contingent ways in which shared affective experiences create the communal bonds
which fuel political action. The music of sound demonstrations and underground concerts creates atmospheres in which other activities: demonstrating, dancing, socializing and chanting for
example, take place. As Ben Anderson (2009, p. 77) observes, however, the emotional experience of atmosphere is also vague and indeterminate. It is “the very ambiguity of affective atmospheres
—between presence and absence, between subject and object/subject and between the definite and the indefinite—that enables us to reflect on affective experiences as occurring beyond, around,
and alongside the formation of subjectivity”. The notion of affective composition designates this more ambiguous, “atmospheric” collectivity that is produced in the musical culture of the
Genpatsu Yamero movement.
2. Methodology
2. 方法论
I conducted the research for this paper over an eighteen month period commencing in October 2011 while I was a research student at Hitotsubashi University in Tokyo. While living and working
in Japan as an English teacher from 2008 to 2009 I had already established contacts in the Tokyo activist scene. These existing connections enabled me to conduct participant-observation of
demonstrations and anti-nuclear concerts from the perspective of a relative “insider”. I deploy “thick description” (Geertz, 2000, pp. 3–30) of the anti-nuclear sound demonstrations and the “If
You Are Alive” concert in order to evoke the affective atmospheres which I encountered during the course of the research. While attending these events I collected ephemera such as leaflets and
copies of the Tokyo Nantoka newsletter. I did not conduct formal interviews. I rely instead on published interviews and dialogues with musicians and demonstrators that are available in the public
domain. My participant-observation informed my selections from the ephemera and the public record I draw on here to analyse the discursive framing of movement participation (Steinberg,
1998).
从2011年10月开始,我在东京一桥大学大学做研究生时,为这篇论文进行了为期18个月的研究。从2008年到2009年,我在日本生活和工作,作为一名英语教师,我已经在东京的活动家圈子里建立
了联系。这些现有的联系使我能够从一个相对“圈内人”的角度对演示和反核音乐会进行参与式的观察。为了唤起我在研究过程中遇到的情感氛围,我对反核声音的演示和“如果你还活着”的音乐会进
行了“厚描述”(Geertz,2000,第3-30页)。在参加这些活动期间,我收集了一些昙花一现的小册子,如东京通讯的传单和复印件。我没有进行正式的面试。相反,我依靠的是公开发表的对音乐家和
示威者的采访和对话,这些都是在公共领域可以获得的。我的参与式观察告诉我选择的是我在这里用来分析运动参与的话语框架的临时记录和公共记录(Steinberg,1998)。
3. 反核声音示威
In the immediate aftermath of the triple disaster of 11 March 2011, Tokyo residents experienced emotions ranging from sadness and loss triggered by the human tragedy of the triple disaster to
fear and anxiety provoked by the continuing aftershocks, rolling blackouts and the threat of radioactive contamination. Once the severity of the nuclear disaster at Fukushima became apparent,
however, musicians and activists like Matsumoto Hajime (2011a) began to complain about an oppressive “mood of self-restraint” that restricted their ability to express a political reaction to the
nuclear disaster. In the days and weeks following the disaster, the mainstream Japanese media downplayed the danger of radiation and reported the situation at the plant as stable (Gonoi, 2012,
pp. 185–190). Music offered a means of intervening in this restrictive media landscape, providing, as Ian Condry (2011) suggests, a means of “radical recontextualization” which opened up a space
for protest.
在2011年3月11日三重灾难发生后,东京居民立即经历了悲伤和损失,从三重灾难这一人间悲剧引发的悲伤和损失,到持续余震、轮流停电和放射性污染威胁引发的恐惧和焦虑。然而,一旦福岛核
灾难的严重性变得明显起来,像 Matsumoto Hajime (2011a)这样的音乐家和活动人士就开始抱怨,压抑的“自我克制情绪”限制了他们对核灾难表达政治反应的能力。在灾难发生后的几天和几周
里,日本主流媒体淡化了核辐射的危险,并报道说核电站的情况稳定(Gonoi,2012,185-190页)。音乐提供了一种介入这种限制性媒体环境的方式,正如 Ian Condry (2011)所建议的那样,提供了一
种“激进的重新语境化”的方式,为抗议开辟了空间。
In calling for people to take part in the first Genpatsu Yamero demonstration on April 10, Matsumoto Hajime (2011a), a member of Amateur Revolt, called on the readers of his column in an
online magazine to “smash this horrible mood of self-restraint and head into the streets”. The organizers of the demonstration expected a thousand or so people to show up to the small park in
Kōenji where the demonstration was scheduled to take place. Yet by the two o'clock starting time, 3–4000 people had already gathered. They were soon joined by thousands more. As a multitude
of bodies filled the narrow streets around the park, contemporary Chindon-ya3 band Cicala-Mvta serenaded the crowd with their instrumental rendition of Chilean communist singer-songwriter
Víctor Jara's 1971 song “The right to live in peace” (http://youtu.be/WMoRygHvSWA). Matsumoto later recalled how Cicvala-Mvta's performance “roused up the demonstration”, suggesting that
the rhythms of this classic protest song “moved” the protest both emotionally and physically. Music critic Hirai Gen (in Hirai et al., 2012, p. 208), for example, described the performance as “really
heartrending”, exemplifying the way music evokes affective responses among participants in a demonstration.
As the crowd began to inch out into the road, a chaotic process due to the thousands of people who were assembled, Cicala-Mvta's rhythms blended with a larger cacophony. The demonstration
was divided up into separate “blocs” as it made its way through the street, with each bloc lead by its own sound truck. As Noriko Manabe (2013) explains, Amateur Revolt adopted a decentralized
approach to organizing the Genpatsu Yamero protests. Each sound truck was organized by a different person who was responsible for booking the performers for that truck. Each truck
represented a different musical genre. The April protest featured a “Dance Bloc” including DJs, reggae artist Rankin Taxi and rapper Arai Rumi and a “Live Bloc” incorporating a number of punk
rock bands as well as Cicala-Mvta. There was also a “Silver Bloc”, an impromptu marching band in which anyone was free to participate. In addition to these “organized” sources of sound were the
sounds of the participants themselves who brought their chants, cries, songs and instruments. Matsumoto described the chaotic scene as follows.
People sincerely shouting and full of rage at TEPCO and the government, the elderly walking slowly, people dancing every which way, people with a beer in one hand who looked like they were
headed to a cherry-blossom viewing party, families who looked like they were going for a picnic, people wandering about with enormous art objects they had made for the occasion, leftists who
looked like they had travelled 40 years through time with their zekken4 and people carrying the Japanese flag who looked like they had travelled 70 years through time, performers dressed as
clowns and celebrities like actor Yamamoto Tarō and Bose from Scha Dara Par.5 The number was endless!6 (Matsumoto, 2011b).
当人群开始慢慢走上马路时,由于成千上万的人聚集在一起,这是一个混乱的过程,西卡拉-姆维塔的节奏与更大的不和谐声音混合在一起。示威游行在街道上被分成不同的”集团”,每个集团都有
自己的音响卡车带路。正如 Noriko Manabe (2013)解释的那样,业余反抗采用了一种去中心化的方式来组织 Genpatsu Yamero 的抗议活动。每辆音响车都是由不同的人组织的,他们负责为那辆音
响车预定表演者。每辆卡车都代表一种不同的音乐风格。四月份的抗议活动包括一个“舞蹈阵营”,其中包括 dj、雷鬼艺人 Rankin Taxi 和说唱歌手 Arai Rumi,还有一个“ Live 阵营”,其中包括一些
朋克摇滚乐队以及 Cicala-Mvta。还有一个“银阵营”,一个任何人都可以自由参加的即兴游行乐队。除了这些“有组织的”声音来源之外,还有参与者自己的声音,他们带来了他们的圣歌、哭声、歌
曲和乐器。松本描述了混乱的场面如下。
人们真诚地对东京电力公司和政府大喊大叫,充满愤怒,老人们慢慢地走着,人们跳着舞,人们一手拿着啤酒,看起来像是要去参加一个樱花盛开的观赏派对,一家人看起来像是要去野餐,人们拿
着他们为这个场合制作的巨大艺术品到处闲逛,左派分子看起来像是带着他们的 zekken4穿越了40年,人们拿着日本国旗,看起来像是穿越了70年,表演者打扮成小丑和名人,像演员山本,来自
Scha Dara Bose。这个数字是无穷无尽的!6(Matsumoto,2011b).
The diversity of the demonstration reflected the organizers' intention of showing that people from very different walks of life share common concerns about nuclear power (Manabe, 2013). Some
critics of the sound demonstrations were discomforted by the “festive” nature of the April demonstration which they regarded as inappropriate given the scale of the tragedy. For many
participants, though, it was important to engage in a collective emotional release of the tension surrounding the post-disaster situation. Hirai notes how people who came to the April
demonstration were “holding their breath” in the wake of the disaster. Then, in this one “explosive” act of release they “began to move”. Futatsugi Shin, a music critic who was also a
demonstration organizer, concurred with this view, stating that people had a lot of built-up “gloom” (Hirai et al., 2012, p. 208).
示威活动的多样性反映了组织者的意图,即表明来自不同阶层的人们对核能有着共同的担忧(Manabe,2013)。部分批评人士对四月示威活动的「节日气氛」感到不安,他们认为鉴于悲剧的规模,
这种气氛并不恰当。然而,对于许多与会者来说,集体释放围绕灾后局势的紧张情绪很重要。平井指出,参加四月示威的人们在灾难发生后“屏住了呼吸”。然后,在这一个“爆炸性”的释放行动,他
们“开始移动”。Futatsugi Shin,一位音乐评论家,同时也是一个示威组织者,同意这种观点,认为人们有很多积累起来的“忧郁”(平井等人,2012,第208页)。
These observations mirror those of rapper Arai Rumi (stage name “Rumi”). In an interview with Futatsugi, Rumi described the strange silence that prevailed in the wake of the Fukushima
disaster. On tour in London when the earthquake and tsunami struck on 11 March, Rumi returned to Japan expecting to find people openly expressing their anger towards the government.
Instead she discovered that the pervasive “mood of self-restraint” had also infected the music scene. Musicians were not giving live performances and clubs in Tokyo's youth entertainment hub
Shibuya, where Rumi herself often performs, were closed (Likkle et al., 2012, pp. 64–65). Rumi explained that she was uneasy about the contradiction between the rebellious image of the hip hop,
club and hardcore music scenes in which she regularly performs and their silence in the face of nuclear disaster. This contradiction motivated her to join the April 10 demonstration.
Why was it that people who had been angry when everything was calm and peaceful weren't angry now? At that time I was invited to a demonstration and I thought it's now or never (in Likkle
et al., 2012, p. 65).
Rumi explained that while she felt that “now was the time to cry out”, she had to consider “whether what was important now was for us to be angry or whether to go to the disaster-affected areas
in Tohoku and volunteer or make music for charity and cheer up the victims”. She concluded that “it would be good if more people came out and really let out their anger” (in Likkle et al., 2012, p.
65) and decided to join the demonstration.
Rumi 解释说,虽然她认为”现在是大声呼喊的时候了”,但她必须考虑”现在对我们来说重要的是愤怒,还是去东北受灾地区当志愿者,还是为慈善事业创作音乐,让受害者振作起来”。她得出结
论,“如果有更多的人走出来,真正发泄他们的愤怒,那将是件好事”(见 lickle et al. ,2012,第65页) ,并决定参加示威。
In Rumi's April 10 performance in Kōenji, she called on the crowd to “cry out” and “raise your voice against the stillness of the night”. This desire to express one's anger through musical protest
was always an important part of the sound demonstration. Oda Masanori, who was an organizer of the Genpatsu Yamero protest and participated in the “Silver Bloc” marching band, was also
involved in the first sound demonstrations against the Iraq war in 2003–04. Writing about his participation in the anti-war movement, he notes that it was a visceral reaction to the prospect of
war which brought people into the streets.
… the people who gathered in Shiba Park and demonstrated along the road from Tokyo Tower didn't gather there seeking to carry out a clear political action. Before that, came the feeling “for
today at least I can't remain at home, this is no time to sit in front of the television or the computer, at any rate I can't just stand here, it's no good just continuing quietly as we are, if we don't
make some noise there will be further trouble”. It was with this feeling of being at one's wits end, of being unable to bear this suffocating feeling, that people dashed outside (Oda and Irukomonzu,
2003, p. 210).
Mizukoshi Maki (in Kodama and Mizukoshi, 2003, p. 40), who also participated in the anti-war sound demonstrations, valued them because they were “a place where different people could
express their various feelings and thoughts”. Importantly, these “feelings and thoughts” were “various” in nature. Rather than merging together as the term collective identity implies, the format
of the demonstration preserved the space for difference. While Mizukoshi acknowledges that this lack of a central message “may have made [the demonstrations] weaker”, she insists “it was
precisely for that reason that I was able to be there”. Mizukoshi describes her desire for autonomy even in the midst of collective action. She was able to join in the affective experience of the
demonstrations only because she didn't have to subscribe to a central slogan or idea.
Playing dance music as part of a demonstration creates an affective atmosphere but it doesn't demand a unified mode of participation in the way that formal chanting, for example, might. Music
writer Isobe Ryō, who was also a participant in the anti-war sound demonstrations, was quite ambivalent about the political slogans and chants which could be heard at the protests.
Although I personally can agree with all of them, I really can't get into the chanting and I haven't taken part in any of it. More than all that, it's the dancing that I really get into. It's true,
though, that sometimes I can't shake the feeling that I'm being exploited by all these slogans and chants (Isobe, 2004).
作为示范的一部分,演奏舞蹈音乐创造了一种情感的氛围,但是它并不需要一种统一的参与方式,就像正式的吟唱那样。音乐作家伊索贝里也是反战声音示威的参与者,他对抗议活动中可以听到的
政治口号和圣歌的态度相当矛盾。虽然我个人同意他们所有人的观点,但我真的不能参加诵经活动,我也没有参加任何活动。更重要的是,我真正投入的是舞蹈。尽管如此,有时我还是觉得自己被
这些口号和圣歌所利用(Isobe,2004)。
These doubts were offset, however, by the freedom to dance in one's own style.
Laughing and drinking beer while dancing along? The sound-demo is the place where even that kind of irreverent (katte na) behaviour is OK. More than that, isn't it OK if some people just
dance their socks off, even if they can't agree with the slogans? Ultimately, dancing in the streets is itself a political act. Whatever the slogans, this is the politics that is emphasized in the
sound-demo. If someone can agree with that, then I think they are one of us (nakama) (Isobe, 2004).
然而,这些怀疑被以自己的风格跳舞的自由所抵消。
边笑边喝啤酒边跳舞?在声音演示中,即使是那种不敬的行为也是可以接受的。更重要的是,如果有些人即使不同意这些口号,也只是跳起舞来,这难道不是可以的吗?归根结底,在街上跳舞本身
就是一种政治行为。不管是什么口号,这就是声音演示中强调的政治。如果有人同意这一点,那么我认为他们就是我们中的一员。
Isobe's reflections remind us of performance theorist Randy Martin's (2010, p. 59) reflections on dance as a form of political protest which “makes legible the social kinaesthetic, the shared
physical sensibility and context we join as we rumble and tumble together”. Rather than producing a unified collective identity, dancing together in the streets allows for affective composition
while preserving space for difference. Dancing bodies can respond to the same rhythms with different steps. In rave culture, which was one of the sources of the sound demonstrations, it is
precisely the lack of formalized steps which facilitate the sense of liberation which participants experience on the dance floor (Tsurumi and Seino, 2000). Hirai (in Hirai et al., 2012, p. 208)
suggested that rather than thinking about music as a protest tactic, the April 2011 sound demonstration was something quite different. A rock festival rather than a demonstration. Hirai described
how, rather than marching in the “ranks” of the demonstration, he kept “wandering here and there”.
Hirai (in Hirai et al., 2012, p. 208) elaborates on the feeling of freedom which he felt at the April demonstration. Listening to reggae veteran Rankin Taxi's performance produced “an amazing
feeling of liberation”. This language of liberation and the desire to produce a space of freedom in the public streets of Tokyo is essential to Amateur Revolt's sound demonstrations both before and
after the disaster. The sound demonstrations, with their anarchic transformation of public space through music and dance, produce something like the “Temporary Autonomous Zone” (T.A.Z.)
theorized by the radical philosopher Hakim Bey (1985). The notion of T.A.Z. is based on a prefigurative politics which rejects any separation between means and ends. In prefigurative forms of
protest, the actions which participants take should produce the kinds of spaces, social relations and temporalities which the movement aims to achieve directly rather than seeing them as
something to be implemented only after the movement has achieved its goals. Bey's work was translated into Japanese in 1997 (Bey and Minowa, 1997) and his ideas have exerted a significant
influence on activists associated with the Genpatsu Yamero demonstrations. T-shirts emblazoned with the title of Bey's book, “T.A.Z. The Temporary Autonomous Zone, Ontological Anarchy,
Poetic Terrorism”, were visible at the Genpatsu Yamero demonstration. The makers of the T-shirt, a small collective of activists, describe the Temporary Autonomous Zone on their blog as a
means of describing the potential for spaces of freedom and liberation to emerge during short-term occupations of public space. Because the “Autonomous Zone” is temporary, it takes advantage
of the window before state-power shuts down the space and then moves on to the next place (“Wearable Ideas RLL - T.A.Z,” n.d.). Whereas the notion of collective identity suggests a singular
identity, the idea of T.A.Z. incorporates an acknowledgement of the power of the fleeting affective compositions which occur in spaces like the sound demonstrations.
平井(平井等人,2012年,第208页)详细阐述了他在四月示威游行中感受到的自由感。听雷鬼老将兰金出租车公司的表演产生了“一种惊人的解放感”。这种解放的语言和在东京公共街道创造一个自
由空间的愿望,对于灾难前后业余反抗的声音示威来说是必不可少的。他们通过音乐和舞蹈对公共空间进行了无政府主义的改造,这些声音证明产生了类似于激进哲学家哈基姆 · 贝伊(Hakim
Bey,1985年)提出的“临时自治区”(ta.z)理论。过渡区的概念是建立在预兆式政治的基础上的,它拒绝任何手段和目的的分离。在预示性抗议形式中,参与者采取的行动应产生运动旨在直接实现的
各种空间、社会关系和临时性,而不是将其视为只有在运动实现其目标后才能实现的东西。Bey 的作品在1997年被翻译成日文(Bey 和箕轮,1997年) ,他的思想对与 Genpatsu Yamero 示威有关的
活动家产生了重大影响。T 恤上印有 Bey 的书名“ t.a.z”。临时自治区,本体无政府主义,诗意的恐怖主义”,在 Genpatsu Yamero 示威可见。T 恤衫的制作者是一个由活动人士组成的小团体,他们
在自己的博客上称,临时自治区是一种描述短期占领公共空间期间出现的自由和解放空间的潜力的手段。因为“自治区”是暂时的,它利用了窗口的优势,然后国家权力关闭了空间,然后转移到下一
个地方(“可穿戴的想法 RLL-T.A.Z,”n.d.)。尽管集体身份的概念暗示着一个单一的身份,但是 t.a.z 的概念却包含了一种对短暂情感组成的力量的承认,这种力量发生在像声音演示这样的空间中。
Yet the very transitoriness of these Temporary Autonomous Zones means that while the collective emotional experiences which takes place within them may be powerful, they are necessarily of
limited duration. Brown and Pickerill (2009, p. 30) point out that in order to sustain a community of resistance over time, activists need to develop ongoing affective relationships. The affective
composition of freedom and emotional release which are produced at street demonstrations feed into more intimate relationships produced at smaller scales. In the Genpatsu Yamero movement,
after the sound demonstrations, activists returned to the underground autonomous spaces of Tokyo Nantoka to plan their next action or simply socialize with others. These spaces provided a
venue for more sustained engagements.
然而,这些临时自治区的短暂性意味着,虽然在这些临时自治区内发生的集体情感体验可能是强大的,但它们必然是有限的。布朗和皮克里尔(2009,第30页)指出,为了维持一个社区的抵抗随着
时间的推移,积极分子需要发展持续的情感关系。在街头示威中产生的自由和情感释放的情感组成在更小的范围内滋养了更亲密的关系。在 Genpatsu Yamero 运动中,在有声的示威游行之后,活
动家们回到了 Tokyo Nantoka 的地下自治空间,计划他们的下一步行动,或者仅仅是与其他人社交。这些空间为更持久的交往提供了场所。
4. 东京南托卡: 城市地铁的“粘稠”氛围
The “If You Are Alive Festival 2” concert discussed in the introduction brought the experience of demonstrating in the public streets into the underground by means of a common soundtrack. A
number of the bands who performed in the anti-nuclear sound demonstrations, including punk rock groups Pinprick Punishment and Punkrocker Labour Union, psychedelic rock band
Netanoyoi, folk rock groups Kora Kora and Tsucchikure and comedic musician Genki Iizo performed at the concert. The venue in which the concert took place is one of the “live houses” that is
loosely connected to Tokyo's Nantoka community.
The Nantoka community lacks a formal organizational structure but it is connected through a series of overlapping spaces, practices, relationships and media. Tokyo Nantoka, the monthly
newsletter produced from 2009 until late 2012, is one medium through which the continuity of the community is maintained. The newsletter featured advertisements and a “what's on” guide for a
number of autonomous spaces in Tokyo and short articles on topics of interest to community members such as how to deal with police harassment and the experience of organizing a collectively
managed bar. In 2012, Tokyo Nantoka carried a series of feature articles which played with Bey's notion of the “Temporary Autonomous Zone”. Subsituting “Tokyo” for “Temporary”, the “Tokyo
Autonomous Zone” column extended the idea of a temporary autonomous place, time or imagination and applied it to the more permanent activist spaces which are connected to the Nantoka
community. For several months in 2009, the T.A.Z. column was a regular feature in the newsletter as it profiled a different underground space each month. The column featured a housing project
called the “Home of Freedom and Survival” which is operated by a labour union for casual workers in Tokyo; Suyu + Nomo, a radical live-in research centre in Seoul; and experimental live music
venue The Stone in New York. These columns constitute a series of explorations into the theory and practice of autonomous space.
Fig. 1 is the T.A.Z. column from the July 2009 edition of tokyo nantoka which featured “soup”. More than half of the column's single A5 page is devoted to a photograph which shows three people
in the space surrounded by building materials. Superimposed over the photograph is a piece of text which describes how “soup” was established by a group of childhood friends who grew up
together in the same public housing project in Tokyo. The group came together over their love of music. A few years before they established the live house in July 2006, the group pooled their
resources to purchase a BOSE speaker system which they used for small parties in the estate in which they lived. Later they took out a lease on the basement in Tokyo's inner west.
图一、东京南托卡的经济贸易区专栏(2009年7月)。
“soup” is one of the very few spaces connected with the Nantoka community which are able to host live concerts with amplified music. The high density of residences and businesses in Tokyo
means that live houses are usually located underground in heavily insulated basements. Most of the spaces in the Nantoka community are unable to meet these stringent requirements. The
organizers of these spaces try to respect their neighbours and avoid noise complaints so as to ensure the longevity of the spaces as even relatively small gatherings can quickly become rowdy. As a
result, most of the spaces I travelled through in the Nantoka community had regular trouble with neighbours and local police due to noise complaints. The political economy of commercial live
houses in Tokyo, where performers are generally required to “pay to play” (Matsue, 2008, p. 60), makes it difficult for community members to organize concerts. The “Nantoka” community is
made up of people who are just scraping by in the precarious conditions of post-industrial Tokyo and they generally lack the resources to hire expensive commercial live houses. This highlights the
importance to the community of a space like “soup” that can host concerts with amplified music.
The column also features three small images in the style of polaroid photographs which are inlaid against the main photograph of the interior of the live house. The images, and the “polaroid”
style in which they are presented, accentuate the “underground” and “do-it-yourself” ethics of the space. Do-it-yourself (DIY) culture, as Mōri (2009, p. 484) explains, emerged out of the punk
scene in the U.S. and the U.K. in the 1970s and 1980s and was quickly adopted in Japan. It is characterized by a critique of mainstream recording companies, fashion labels and consumer culture
and celebrates the production of music and clothing by consumers themselves. The DIY approach to organizing at “soup” entails that collective members take responsibility for the organization
and management of every aspect of the venue. Each of the “polaroids” in the column depicts this DIY ethic in practice. The uppermost image is of ladders, electrical cables and a bicycle. The
caption below reads “today everybody is doing renovations”. Below this is a picture of “the handmade [bar] counter” and at the bottom is a picture of “the stairs which lead underground”.
这个柱子还以三个宝丽来相片风格的小图片为特色,这三个图片都镶嵌在住宅内部的主要照片上。这些图片,以及它们所呈现的“宝丽来”风格,强调了“地下”和“自己动手”的空间伦理。正如 m ri
(2009,第484页)所解释的那样,DIY 文化在20世纪70年代和80年代的美国和英国兴起,并迅速被日本所采用。这是一个对主流唱片公司、时尚品牌和消费者文化的批判,并赞美消费者自己制作
的音乐和服装的拥有属性。自己动手组织”汤”活动的方法要求集体成员承担组织和管理场馆各个方面的责任。每一个“宝丽来”在专栏描述这种 DIY 伦理的实践。最上面的图像是梯子、电缆和自行
车。下面的标题写着“今天大家都在装修”。下面是一张“手工制作的吧台”的图片,下面是一张“通往地下的楼梯”的图片。
As Brown and Pickerall (2009, p. 28) observe, places “can evoke certain emotions, be used as spaces in which to recall emotions past, engender familiarity and belonging and be safe spaces in
which to re-examine (or re-kindle) emotions”. In the T.A.Z. column on “soup”, an anonymous author describes how “whenever I walk down the stairs which lead underground I get tremulous with
excitement”. The author's emotional investment in the stairs is evoked by the physical act of descending into the space. When this journey leads to a musical encounter, the writer continues, the
feeling of excitement is intensified. “If you open the door at the end of the staircase there is always music, and a gathering of my trusted friends”. The musical, social and physical features of the
space all combine in this account to define an affective experience of entering “soup”. Because the space is organized and constructed both figuratively and literally by its users in accordance with
a do-it-yourself ethic, there is an “effortless” quality to the joy within. “We make our own ‘play space’ by ourselves”, the passage continues, “and have effortless fun”.
正如 Brown 和 Pickerall (2009,第28页)所观察到的,地方“可以唤起某种情绪,被用作回忆过去情绪的空间,产生熟悉感和归属感,成为重新审视(或重新点燃)情绪的安全空间”。在 t.a.z 网站关
于“汤”的专栏中,一位匿名作者描述了“每当我走下通往地下的楼梯时,我都会因为兴奋而颤抖”。作者在楼梯上的情感投入是通过下楼进入空间的肢体动作来唤起的。当这个旅程导致了一场音乐邂
逅,作者继续说道,这种兴奋的感觉被强化了。“如果你打开楼梯尽头的门,那里总是有音乐,还有我最信任的朋友们的聚会。”。这个空间的音乐、社会和物理特征都结合在一起,定义了进
入“汤”的情感体验。因为空间是由使用者根据自己动手的道德准则组织和建造的,所以内在的快乐有一种“毫不费力”的品质。“我们自己创造自己的‘游戏空间’,”文章继续写道,“毫不费力地享受乐
趣”。
In a portion of the photograph which peaks out from below the bloc of text is the clearly identifiable brand mark of a speaker, emphasizing the centrality of music to the production of this
“exciting” yet “effortless” “play space”. The author describes the atmosphere of “soup” as “free” and “feeling good”, employing similar language to that used by Hirai in the quotation above where
he described the feeling of liberation experienced while listening to music at a sound demonstration. There is, however, a crucial difference between the public street demonstration and the more
intimate underground concert. “soup”, the author notes, is a space which “is only for us to enjoy”. This space is “closed” when compared with the more public anti-nuclear sound demonstrations
in which anyone can participate. Nevertheless, the author suggests that, as event promoters and a wider circle of people begin to use the space this intimate sphere of “soup” users is expanding.
The English name “soup” was chosen because it conveys the feeling of “various people gently simmering away”. The “soup” is bound to “cook” up the “music”, “art” and “encounters” which take
place within. This is what makes descending into the space so exciting.
在照片的一部分中,从文字的下方突出出来的是说话者清晰可辨的商标,强调音乐在这种“令人兴奋”但“不费力”的“演奏空间”的制作中的中心地位。作者将”汤”的气氛描述为”自由”和”感觉良好”,使
用了与上面引文中平井所用的类似的语言,他在引文中描述了在有声演示中听音乐时所体验到的解放感。然而,在公共街道示威和更私密的地下音乐会之间有一个关键的区别。作者指出,“汤”是一
个“只供我们享用”的空间。与任何人都可以参加的更为公开的反核声音示威相比,这个空间是”封闭的”。然而,作者认为,随着活动推动者和更广泛的人群开始使用这个亲密的“汤”用户圈子正在扩
大。选择英文名称“汤”是因为它传达的感觉“各种各样的人慢慢炖离开”。“汤”必然会“煮”出“音乐”、“艺术”和“遭遇”。这就是为什么降落在太空中如此令人兴奋。
On the night of the “If You Are Living Festival 2” I felt this sense of excitement as I opened the door to the live house for the first time. Having journeyed through various places associated with the
Nantoka community I had a sense of what might lie on the other side of the staircase. Nevertheless, it remained an unknown place until I descended from the quiet urban neighbourhood above.
On entering I saw the performers mingling with their friends and acquaintances. From the bar, a “DIY” food group sold sandwiches, snacks and drinks to the crowd. Concerns over noise levels in
the quiet neighbourhood meant that we were discouraged from mingling in the street above. Nevertheless, the stairwell leading down into the basement venue and the doorway area – a
transitional space between the public street above and the basement below – was full of performers and audience members (the two categories overlapped significantly) conversing, smoking and
drinking while they immersed themselves in the “soupy” atmosphere of the concert.
In her study of “extreme” music scenes in Australia and Japan, Rosemary Overall (2014) found that the affective experiences shared by fans produced a sense of belonging that connected them
across local, national and transnational scales. Similarly, the shared affective experience of protest music connected the small DIY live house described here to the larger sound demonstrations.
Unlike the large street demonstrations, however, it sustained a more intimate atmosphere. The soup “cooks” away but the “ingredients” retain their individual textures. The shared emotional
experience of being in the space and remembering the sound demonstrations creates an affective composition which is mediated by a shared love of protest music. This does not necessarily
cohere, however, into a stable collective identity. While the space is described as “closed” and “only for us to enjoy”, terms that suggest the kind of unity that might be consonant with the notion of
“collective identity”, the 2011 concert showed how the space continues to open up beyond the group of childhood friends who created it. Through the experiences of music and protest the space
and participants within it are opening up to a multitude of encounters. Interacting above and below the streets creates intense interpersonal relationships across difference which are based on
shared emotional experiences and shared relationships to protest music. This process of affective composition suggests a more open, multiplicitous subjectivity in the Genpatsu Yamero movement
in Tokyo.
5. Conclusions
5. 结论
The creation of a festive atmosphere through music and dance at “sound demonstrations” facilitates the mingling of bodies and beats. It produces “affective atmospheres” of irreverent protest and
creative possibility. Yet while these “affective atmospheres” are necessarily temporary, they do not end abruptly when the demonstrations come to an end. Rather, they flow into the network of
underground live music venues, cafes, bookshops and bars which nurture a musical culture of rebellion. Here, in the more permanent “autonomous zones” of the Nantoka community, the
affective relationships produced through musical protest and shared experiences of the public space of the street and of the more intimate space below creates a “soupy” kind of sociality that is
better described as a kind of “affective composition” than a “collective identity.” While it is difficult to make a conclusive assessment about the “efficacy” of anti-nuclear protest in changing
national energy policy in Japan. The debate over whether to restart those nuclear reactors which remain viable after the Fukushima disaster continues. Yet, as Brown and Pickerill (2009, p. 32)
argue, the creation of powerful affective ties between participants in social movements is often more important in the long term than whether or not their demands are met. Through emotional
journeys that encompass spaces “above” and “below” the streets, anti-nuclear activists strengthen their relationships with one another. Their shared emotional experiences create affective
compositions that can help ensure their survival in a post-industrial metropolis which is characterized by the proliferation of social, economic and environmental risks.
音乐会以音乐及舞蹈作示范,营造节日气氛,让身体与节拍交融。它产生了不敬的抗议和创造的可能性的“情感氛围”。然而,尽管这些“情感氛围”必然是暂时的,但它们不会在示威结束时突然终
止。相反,它们流入了地下现场音乐场所、咖啡馆、书店和酒吧网络,滋养了一种反叛的音乐文化。在这里,在 Nantoka 社区更为永久的”自治区”,通过音乐抗议和街道公共空间以及下面更为亲
密的空间的共同经历而产生的情感关系创造了一种”浓稠的”社会性,这种社会性被更好地描述为一种”情感组合”,而不是”集体身份”虽然很难对反核抗议在改变日本国家能源政策方面的“功效”做出
结论性评估。关于是否重启那些在福岛核灾难后仍然可行的核反应堆的争论仍在继续。然而,正如布朗和皮克里尔(2009,第32页)所说,从长远来看,在社会运动参与者之间建立强有力的情感纽
带往往比他们的要求是否得到满足更为重要。反核活动人士通过情感之旅,在街道的“上面”和“下面”两个空间里,加强彼此之间的关系。他们共同的情感体验创造了情感的组成,可以帮助确保他们
在一个后工业化大都市的生存,这是拥有属性扩散的社会,经济和环境风险。
Acknowledgements
鸣谢
My thanks to the editors and reviewers of this special issue on Emotional Geographies of Sound for stimulating the thinking which produced this paper. Research for this paper was conducted
while I was the recipient of an Australian Postgraduate Award at the University of Wollongong. The fieldwork on which the paper is based was carried out under the auspices of a Japanese
Government (Monbukagakusho) Research Scholarship at Hitotsubashi University in Tokyo. The ideas discussed in this paper were first aired as part of the Series on Cultural Responses to 3.11 at
Sophia University organized by David Slater whom I thank for giving me the opportunity to take part in the series. I also benefitted from a Japan Study Grant at the National Library of Australia
which enabled me to complete the manuscript.
感谢《声音的情感地理学》这期特刊的编辑和评论员,感谢他们激发了我写这篇论文的思考。这篇论文的研究是在我获得卧龙岗大学澳大利亚研究生奖时进行的。论文所依据的田野调查是在日本政
府(Monbukagakusho)研究奖学金的赞助下在东京一桥大学进行的。本文讨论的想法最初是作为 David Slater 组织的3.11文化反应系列节目的一部分在上智大学广播电台播出的,我感谢他给我机会
参与这个系列节目。我还受益于澳大利亚国家图书馆的日本研究补助金,使我能够完成手稿。
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1 Here and elsewhere I have adopted the Japanese conventional name order of surname (Oguma) first then first name (Eiji) when quoting from Japanese sources.
在这里和其他地方,我在引用日本资料时,采用了日本传统的姓氏顺序(Oguma)先于名字(Eiji)。
2 A “live house” is a musical performance venue, typically located underground to prevent noise complaints in Japan's densely populated cities.
“ live house”是一种音乐表演场地,通常位于地下,以防止日本人口密集城市的噪音投诉。
3 Chindon-ya are troupes of extravagantly dressed performers who employ a hybrid of Western and Japanese musical instruments and styles to hawk for shops and businesses (Shinoda, 1992, Abe, 2014). For a discussion of the
Chin-don-ya revival in political protest movement in the 1990s and early 2000s see footnote 22 in Hayashi and McKnight (2005).
Chindon-ya 是由穿着奢华的表演者组成的剧团,他们采用西方和日本乐器的混合风格,在商店和企业中叫卖(Shinoda,1992年,Abe,2014年)。有关20世纪90年代和21世纪初政治抗议运动中钦顿亚复兴的讨论,请参见《林和麦克
奈特》(2005年)中的脚注22。
4 Zekken are vests with plastic inserts into which pieces of paper bearing slogans can be inserted for use during political protests.
Zekken 是一种有塑料嵌件的背心,其中可以插入印有标语的纸张,以便在政治抗议期间使用。
5 Scha Dara Parr is a Japanese hip hop outfit that formed in 1988.
是一个成立于1988年的日本嘻哈组织。
这个和所有其他的翻译都是我的。
2016年爱思唯尔保留所有权利。