Hayao Miyazaki and the Ghibli Museum.srt (DOWNLOAD SUBTITLES)
The western suburbs of Tokyo, about 15 miles from the city center.
A unique building is nestled in one of the city's largest parks.
This is the Ghibli Museum.
With its green-clad roof, it almost seems to merge with the foliage.
This rambling, castle-like structure...
...seems to be the result of continuous additions.
Bridges link multiple levels. Terraces sprout everywhere.
The museum is a huge maze.
What inspired its creation?
Is that Totoro waiting at the entrance?
No - that's not the real entrance.
Here's what the museum looks like from ground level.
And here's the real entrance. Let's step through and take a look.
Inside, colorful frescos greet the eye.
Stained-glass windows illuminate a stairway...
...that descends into a mysterious world.
The stairway leads to a hall that seems to soar upward into space.
A maze of balconies and bridges rises above your head.
A huge propeller revolves beneath the skylight.
You might think you've wandered into one of Miyazaki's films.
SPIRITED AWAY (2001)
"Spirited Away" takes place in a fantastic bath house.
Again, the same soaring space...
...the same maze of bridges and levels.
In fact, director Hayao Miyazaki designed the museum personally.
Miyazaki's films begin life as a series of image boards.
In them, he creates the details of his story and his characters.
The Ghibli Museum began the same way, as a series of image boards.
Right from the start, children having fun were part of that vision.
Here you can see Ghibli characters - even touch them.
But the biggest exhibit at the Ghibli Museum...
...isn't the Cat Bus or the Robot Soldier. Can you guess what it is?
It's the museum itself, as designed by Miyazaki.
No one knows this better than director Isao Takahata.
Takahata has worked alongside Miyazaki for years.
I like the way they used iron and steel...
...and the way air flows within the space.
The metal elements are freestanding, not embedded.
Here's something I liked the first time I saw it.
This little space under the stairs never fails to draw Takahata.
Every time he visits, he has to go inside.
Even as an adult I can't resist going inside.
I really like this.
Even the bench is just the right size for a child.
Children like to create small things...
...in the nooks of big spaces.
I used to do that too.
It's something that appeals to everyone.
The spaces Miyazaki designed have a strange power.
With Takahata's help, let's explore the source of that power.
HAYAO MIYAZAKI AND THE GHIBLI MUSEUM Isao Takahata with Goro Miyazaki, (Managing Director, Ghibli Museum)
At first you were a bit skeptical...
...about the idea of Miyazaki designing a museum.
I wasn't sure how he'd do it.
But the first time I saw it, I was excited.
MAZE-LIKE SPACES
I'd seen a few sketches, but what intrigued me...
...was when I came and actually walked around.
None of the exhibits were in place yet.
Naturally the exhibits are important...
...but the building itself is so fascinating when you walk around in it.
It makes you want to explore the building from bottom to top.
I love that kind of thing, so I really like this museum.
I think you were the first one to write...
...that the biggest exhibit at the Ghibli Museum is the building itself.
Yes, I really think it is.
The museum is based on Western, or should I say European style.
Japan has been influenced by Western architecture...
...and there are many great examples of that in Japan.
But European architecture has always cherished little details.
Things like materials, windows, wall construction, and so forth.
If you want to experience that, you have to visit Europe.
But you can get a sense of it in this museum, too.
That's a real achievement. You get the same feel here.
Visit Europe, and you feel real respect for their architectural esthetics.
This museum gives you a similar experience, almost by osmosis.
It's not an exhibit. You experience it directly.
Japan has absorbed a lot from the West.
Much of Japan's architecture follows the Western style.
But you're saying there's something else?
Japan has absorbed Western ideals of symmetry.
We've also adapted Western concepts of partitioning space...
...within an overall structure.
But historically, European towns were often enclosed by walls.
People had to make the most of that fixed space.
They kept building on what was already there.
Right. You see that everywhere.
Buildings on both sides might be connected above the street.
You can cross over, like over a bridge.
A fork in the road decides the shape of a building.
Room might have angled walls.
There are rooms in the attic.
There are so many interesting spaces.
Especially with little towns in Italy...
...you can walk for hours and never get bored, in a tiny little town.
Each space presents itself to you in a different way.
I've never had that experience with Western architecture in Japan.
European cities have charm, a very human atmosphere.
That's a quality you don't see in Japan.
I agree. The European style is very rational...
...but the way they add to structures creates a feeling of spontaneity.
They have a good sense of how to use space creatively.
That's especially true in Italy.
Japan imported the basic principles of European architecture.
Nearly all the Western-style buildings in Japan have that symmetry.
Our buildings are very orderly.
Japan stuck to the basics.
In 1990, Hayao Miyazaki traveled to Italy.
His destination was about an hour from Rome.
After seeing photographs, Miyazaki wanted to visit firsthand.
This is Calcata, one of Italy's mysterious hilltop towns.
Long ago, during times of danger and instability...
...people built towns on steep ridges or perched on the tops of mountains.
These houses were built hundreds of years ago.
They've been rebuilt and refashioned countless times over the centuries.
Calcata is one of the most picturesque hilltop towns in all of Italy.
The town stands atop one enormous outcrop.
Centuries of building and rebuilding within this small area...
...have created an atmosphere of harmony.
You feel it as soon as you pass through the fortress-like entrance.
Houses are even built over the streets, utilizing every inch of space.
The streets of Calcata are a maze.
Every fork in the path seems to ask: which way to go?
Takahata discovered, spaces here are charming and soothing.
The maze of spaces keeps drawing you inward.
The Ghibli Museum creates the same feeling for its guests.
In Calcata, you'll eventually find yourself at the edge of a cliff.
In the Ghibli Museum, if you keep wandering...
...you'll eventually find yourself outside.
So many different doors and stairways. What's around the next corner?
These are buildings that excite your curiosity.
In the Ghibli Museum, spaces also invite you to peek inside.
There's a space beneath these steps. What's it like down there?
Spaces in the Ghibli Museum tease you with the same question.
Japan does have complicated, maze-like spaces in some of its cities.
Yes, but they're very rare.
Of course, a few castle towns were built that way on purpose, for defense.
There are maze-like spaces meant to slow down an enemy.
But basically, Japanese cities didn't expand by building upwards.
Nowadays of course they do, but there's still not much complexity.
For example, there's Himeji Castle. It's one of my favorites.
What's really interesting is to walk around inside.
You go through one gate after another, and the space keeps changing.
You can go into the castle and enjoy the space inside.
There aren't many places like it in Japan.
Himeji Castle was built in the 17th century.
It sits on a 130-foot hill.
Moats and stone walls form a labyrinth...
HIMEJI CASTLE Moats and stone walls form a labyrinth...
HIMEJI CASTLE
HIMEJI CASTLE ...that spirals inward to the castle keep.
...that spirals inward to the castle keep.
CASTLE KEEP
CASTLE KEEP This is the path to the keep.
This is the path to the keep.
Soon a wall blocks your way. You can't take a direct route.
You're forced to take a long, twisting route up a steep slope.
We've almost reached the castle keep.
But - there's no entrance.
To enter, you have to turn 180 degrees and pass through another gate.
This complicated route is part of the castle's defenses.
If enemies penetrated the outer defenses...
...the maze made it easier to trap and defeat them.
The Ghibli Museum and Himeji Castle.
Their roots are very different, but Takahata sees similarities too.
Both have mazes leading upward and downward.
HAYAO MIYAZAKI'S LOCATION SCOUTING IN EUROPE
So this interesting aspect of Western structures didn't come to Japan.
What was it that inspired Miyazaki to depict these types of buildings...
...in his stories, as well as here at the Ghibli Museum?
We don't have a Western structural environment.
But there are many other influences, such as films.
You don't see these sorts of buildings around you.
So unfamiliar images can have a very strong influence.
Also, I think Miyazaki has always had a talent for spatial design.
I think this is something he discovered in the course of his career.
Sometimes you encounter scenes where you have to think very spatially.
For example, Miyazaki once visited Gotland island in Sweden...
...to scout locations for "Pippi Longstocking."
Gotland has many small cities.
I think that was his first direct encounter...
...with this interesting aspect of Western structures.
I think Miyazaki's trip to Sweden was also his first visit to Europe.
Did you go with him?
No, I was buried in work.
We were just getting the "Pippi" series off the ground.
I had to write the first episode myself.
So I was getting things ready while Miyazaki scouted locations.
Do you remember what Miyazaki said when he came back?
He was quite excited. He'd taken a lot of photos.
Now he prefers to sketch on his trips. Someone else handles the photos.
Visby, the main port on the island of Gotland.
"Pippi Longstocking" was never produced.
But Miyazaki's experiences here bore fruit in his later works.
KIKI S DELIVERY SERVICE (1 989) The imaginary city of Koriko - setting for "Kiki's Delivery Service."
The imaginary city of Koriko - setting for " Kiki's Delivery Service."
It's said that Koriko was modeled on Visby.
Late 2001 . Miyazaki visits Paris to promote "Spirited Away."
Paris, 8:00 a.m. The winter sun hasn't fully risen yet.
Miyazaki goes for a morning walk whenever he's on the road.
It's more than just a break from his busy schedule.
Walking through old neighborhoods stimulates Miyazaki's imagination.
His impressions might see the light of day in one of his films.
The influence of his travels runs through Miyazaki's work.
The crowded neighborhoods of Genova influenced "Heidi" ...
... and "From the Apennines to the Andes."
I was with Miyazaki on his trip to Genova.
We used to discuss where we should use all the ideas...
...we were getting from the things we saw there.
These different influences are very important for animators.
It's not the same as research or just collecting photos.
You have to actually depict a way of life.
For example, Marco's school was in a wealthy neighborhood.
After school he'd go down to his house near the harbor.
So you need to show how he gets home.
The audience has to feel like they're going with him.
They should feel like they really visited his town.
We wanted to take the audience into Marco's world...
...not just show it from the outside.
Let them experience the space.
That's the goal.
The things required to achieve that are planned from the beginning.
It's a very important technique.
I think they've brought it to a high level.
In 1976, Takahata and Miyazaki visited Genova, Italy.
Takahata was preparing to direct "From the Apennines to the Andes."
Miyazaki was responsible for locations and layout.
Compared to the flat plains of Argentina, Genova was beautiful.
The city spreads up a mountain overlooking the ocean.
Tall houses cluster together on the steep slopes.
Looking up, you see window shutters and laundry on the line.
A narrow street threads its way among the houses.
You hear laughter and the cheerful sound of chatting in Italian.
All this was an inspiration for Miyazaki.
I understand you were one of Miyazaki's inspirations.
That's because we experienced it together.
I heard you'd both wonder what a certain house looked like inside.
Then Miyazaki would rack his brains picturing it and trying to draw it.
Yes, it was quite challenging for him.
We couldn't just walk into people's houses.
It was easier when we did "Heidi."
In Genova's old neighborhoods, it was hard to get a look inside.
But they told us the original interiors were completely changed.
So it wouldn't have helped to look around anyway.
Miyazaki had to guess how things looked in the late 19th century.
Sometimes the settings he created were so interesting...
...we'd build an episode around them.
We wrote an episode for "Heidi" about moving to a new house.
We did the same thing in "From the Apennines to the Andes."
When you show your characters moving into a new environment...
...you have to take the audience along.
That added a lot of interest to the series.
This is the city of Genova, as imagined by Miyazaki.
He applied the observations from his visit...
...but the setting is late 19th century, so some of it is imagined.
We asked an expert to take a look at Miyazaki's Genova.
Andrea Rocco is an advisor for film and television shooting locations.
ANDREA ROCCO, GENOVA FILM COMMISSION
What about Miyazaki's imaginary interiors?
Marco, the hero, lives in a working-class neighborhood near the harbor.
Some of these buildings were here when Christopher Columbus was a boy.
Miyazaki walked these streets many times, observing everything carefully.
This sequence of Marco going home from school is one of the results.
FROM THE APENNINES TO THE ANDES (1976)
One aspect of Genova especially interested Miyazaki -
- the old attic rooms.
Even today, the old apartment houses don't have elevators.
You might have to walk eight floors to the attic.
This attic room has been completely modernized.
But the ceiling still slopes down with the roof.
Windows pierce the thick walls. It's a unique space.
Outside, you're on the roof. The view is incredible.
The tall apartment houses built along the narrow, winding streets...
...extend in ranks to the harbor below.
The city extends up and down in a complex vertical landscape.
Putting an attic room in the story added interest to the city space.
The Ghibli Museum has something else in common...
...with Genova and the hilltop towns of Italy.
Even the tiniest town has a square where you can get a drink of water.
This pump at the Ghibli Museum gives you the same feeling.
The old hotels of Italy still use the original elevators.
The hand-operated double doors have an Old World charm.
The elevator in the Ghibli Museum was inspired by the same concept.
For Hayao Miyazaki, creativity begins with careful observation.
But Miyazaki doesn't just reproduce the things he observes.
He uses his observations to create something new.
LAPUTA CASTLE IN THE SKY (1986)
Many of Miyazaki's films are set in Europe.
But Miyazaki's Europe is his personal vision.
It's an original world, built from his imagination.
KIKI'S DELIVERY SERVICE (1989) It's an original world, built from his imagination.
It's an original world, built from his imagination.
PORCO ROSSO (1992)
Miyazaki designed the museum the same way he designs his films.
It has the same maze-like quality as the Italian hilltop towns...
...and complicated vertical spaces like those in Genova.
Then Miyazaki added his own unique vision.
The museum features a number of fascinating rooms.
Takahata describes these rooms, and the maze-like building itself...
SATURN THEATER (SCREENING ROOM) Takahata describes these rooms, and the maze-like building itself...
Takahata describes these rooms, and the maze-like building itself...
...as a series of tiny universes where imagination can play.
"WHERE A FILM IS BORN" (PERMANENT EXHIBIT)
This exhibit takes the visitor through the making of an animated film...
...from story development to completed work.
One humorous exhibit is based on Miyazaki's work experiences.
"THE BEGINNING OF MOVEMENT" (PERMANENT EXHIBIT)
In this room, you learn about the history and principles of animation.
STRAW HAT CAFÉ
CREATING DETAILS - FROM PART TO WHOLE
Another aspect of Western structures is interior shafts, like stairwells.
Like the scene in "Future Boy Conan" where he's inside the tower.
It's an open shaft, all the way to the top.
You see the same kind of structure in "Spirited Away"...
...but in that film, your view is blocked here and there.
There's a stairway, but it doesn't take you straight up.
The stairway twists and turns.
I found that intriguing.
Gaudi is that way too.
But strange isn't always interesting.
Animators use familiar elements from their surroundings.
They don't create things that don't exist.
I've worked alongside animators for years.
They almost never try to create a total fantasy world.
They always use familiar elements.
The question is how to use them in an interesting way.
Animators aren't vying to create the most fantastic environments.
Each element is something that actually exists.
What they do is present them in imaginative ways.
This gives you complex spaces.
Maybe it's how the sun enters the space...
...or how the inside and outside relate to each other.
Maybe you're inside, and you get a glimpse of the outside world.
You look down and the view slants off at an unexpected angle.
Sightlines are revealed or blocked in surprising ways.
These techniques are used throughout animation.
In animation, you try to stimulate the audience's imagination.
Get them thinking about how that world is put together.
Wonderful detailing is another key aspect of the Ghibli Museum.
Each detail is a small, carefully designed work of art in itself.
Each one looks different from different angles.
Each changes from moment to moment with the angle of the sun.
Another thing that struck me was how often characters...
...start at the lowest level of a structure and work their way up.
The story takes them from the darkest level up into the light.
If there's a lower level, they go there first, then start upward again.
I heard of one project where they considered starting out at the top...
...and going downward, but it didn't feel right.
It doesn't really work, does it?
I was wondering if this kind of story device...
...appears in other forms in Miyazaki's films.
It does. Miyazaki's always looking for ways...
...to communicate a sort of visceral pleasure in his films.
In the museum, children come in and rush down to the first floor.
It's like going down into a dark place.
They're immediately prompted to explore.
They start out on the lowest level.
Because of that, they're primed to go exploring.
When they arrive at the bottom, the first thing they do is look up.
It looks like a labyrinth, with different levels, people here and there.
There are lots of nooks and crannies.
Everyone seems to like that.
So they go up, and finally reach the rooftop.
The whole museum speaks to you on a kind of visceral level.
I think you're right.
"Spirited Away" takes place in an enormous bath house.
Chihiro, the heroine, descends to the lowest level first.
Then she takes an elevator to the top floor...
...and the plot takes another turn.
Visitors to the museum also descend to the lowest level first.
From that starting point, they explore the museum by moving upwards.
WHY ARE MIYAZAKI'S SPACES SO FASCINATING?
The museum seems to be about more...
...than just a certain architectural style.
It's not just a background for the exhibits.
The building itself feels like it has functions, a purpose.
Yes, that's part of what makes it interesting.
You wonder how a window opens, or where a passage leads.
It adds pleasure to your experience.
I'm the kind of person who likes to stand in the first car of a train...
...and look down the track.
It feels good to watch as the track curves...
...and reveals one different scene after another.
This museum is perfect for someone like me.
Miyazaki's design approach surprised me.
He started with the rooms.
First, he designed each room according to its purpose.
The entrance, the windows, everything.
Usually architects do an overall plan...
...and design individual spaces afterward.
Miyazaki approached the design from the opposite direction.
That was extremely interesting.
Yes, I can see a lot of evidence of that.
The rooms aren't simply partitions of a building.
They're actually museum exhibits themselves.
Shuichi Kato once said that Japanese architecture...
...is based on adding parts together to create a whole.
In the West, architecture starts with the overall structure.
Then they decide how the whole should be partitioned.
I personally feel Miyazaki's films are very Japanese...
...even though a lot of them take place in Europe.
He creates a wealth of different parts.
Then he combines them to create his story.
This museum is similar.
It works fine here, because it's a museum.
I think his approach worked very well in this case.
With your own films, I feel the opposite approach.
Going from the whole to the parts. Do you think that's true?
Not necessarily. I guess I'm Japanese, after all.
The thing that impresses me about Miyazaki is his belief...
...in the power of individual parts to be convincing.
He brings those parts together...
...and as a result, he does in fact convince people.
That's a key aspect of his films.
"Spirited Away" is a good example.
The film is constructed from fully realized, fascinating details.
In some sense, the film's story is almost secondary.
That's how interesting the details are.
The details themselves have the ability to move people.
Films used to be about stars.
If you got three big stars together, you might have a hit.
That was almost more important than the story.
Just having really interesting, unique characters could mean success.
Still, it's not easy to pull off in practice.
I think the ability to realize the potential of animation...
...is similar to what's needed to design a building like this.
I always thought "sensuality" was a key concept.
Lately I've gotten Miyazaki to start using that word.
By "sensual" I don't mean sexual.
I'm talking about a palpable, physical quality.
Something you can feel with your body. Maybe Eros.
Something visceral.
Right. The individual elements of Miyazaki's films...
...have that kind of quality.
You can feel that here in the museum as well.
Takahata calls this "sensual space."
What parts of the museum strike him as sensual?
We asked him to show us.
Turn right at the bottom of the stairs...
...and you step into an inner courtyard.
The courtyard is actually below ground level...
...but you feel as if you're at ground level.
Takahata enjoys being tricked this way.
He likes the complex space you see when you look up.
He also likes all the wood you find around you.
There's something soothing about this spot.
He likes to climb the stairs and look down from the terrace.
The well of the central hall.
Takahata enjoys viewing the hall from different levels and angles.
First, the view from below.
Then, up the stairs, to view the hall from above.
This staircase reminds Takahata of a Swiss train he once rode.
The train ascended a spiral tunnel...
...and the town below disappeared from view.
Then each time it reappeared, it looked smaller.
Going up these stairs is a similar experience.
The well is spanned by a bridge.
Takahata enjoys standing in the middle for a 360-degree view.
Round windows set in thick walls.
Takahata likes this image of a tunnel to the outside world.
The vivid colors of the stained glass light up the walls of the tunnel...
...another example of the way different details accent each other.
The walls of the Gallery area are also very thick.
They suggest the atmosphere of a European attic room.
Finally, the rooftop.
Takahata was enthralled when he first saw this area of the museum.
The space and green of the garden feel liberating.
I love it here in this season.
It's nice, isn't it?
This summer garden - this vibrant, waving grass - this is really Japan.
The West doesn't have scenes like this.
All this lush, tall grass.
I love the way it conveys the feeling of summer.
Long grass is a symbol of summer.
This is really wonderful.
This museum is a place for us to walk and move around.
In a theater, you sit in one spot.
Here, you can walk around, experience many different perspectives.
It's much more "sensuous" than watching a movie.
Moving within space is sensuous in itself.
Space that invites movement and gives pleasure.
This is what Takahata means by "sensual."
The secret key to that enjoyment is hidden...
...in the Ghibli Museum, designed by Hayao Miyazaki.