Datsuzoku
Breaking Free 脱俗 🇯🇵
I have often performed in Asia and even lived in the jungles of Malaysia. But the oriental country I’m most enchanted by is Japan. Their profound humanity and religion allure me, and they are woven into the fabric of their social structure through art and how they reflect every aspect of their lives, both ancient and present, and are captivated by words where there is no English counterpart. Japanese has many words that capture concepts, feelings, and cultural nuances that do not have direct equivalents in English. I was charmed by many of these new words and fresh ideas and took delight in learning and incorporating their meaning into my life. Here are a few of my favorites.
Komorebi is a magical word describing the effect of sunlight streaming through the leaves of trees, the interplay of light and leaves. Watching leaves dance and sing in the wind is a beautiful wonder. And in autumn, they shine fiery against brilliance in the sky. Lay on the ground and watch them move and sway, some falling, floating to the ground as you peer through them at the azure sky above. There’s even a specific word for autumn leaves, adding to their exceptional significance —kōyō. While Komorebi is a natural phenomenon, consciously appreciating it can bring significant mental, emotional, and physical advantages, benefiting your overall well-being. I experience a deep sense of peace and tranquility by taking time to appreciate the fleeting beauty of komorebi. That’s what attracts me to living in the countryside. For the Japanese, these moments reinforce the idea that they are part of a larger ecosystem despite their fast-paced city lifestyles. And places like Tokyo and Osaka are giant metropolises.
Another Japanese word I learned is wabi-sabi, an aesthetic principle emphasizing beauty in imperfection and transience. The idea is that appreciation for fleeting moments enhances the understanding of life’s temporary nature and contributes to more profound aesthetic sensitivity and gratitude. I think artists like Michal Newberry innately comprehend this principle. He tells it through his exquisite art. In his Space series, he beautifully demonstrates the ancient ideal of Japanese yūgen, conveying to his appreciative admirers a profound awareness of the universe that triggers an emotional response to its beauty too deep for words. It's a word used to describe mystery and magic. It embodies the spiritual aspects of Japanese Noh theater (mask theater👺), echoing the idea of yūgen by implying that beauty often lies in the unspoken and unseen.
I learned many of these words and their meaning through spending time with Japanese who were kind and patient enough to translate them into American English. As Pooh said to Piglet in their famous conversation —” How do you spell love?” asks Piglet.“You don’t spell it… you feel it,” replies Pooh. The same is true with many of these Japanese words. You feel them, so they are challenging to translate. One of the shows I worked on was a TV special for NHK TV, and one of our illusions was a dangerous thriller performed and filmed at the famous theme park, Fuji-Q Highland, located next to Mount Fuji. It was there, and I learned the meaning of the word Datsuzoku. In Japanese culture, the concept of auspiciousness is deeply mixed with traditions, beliefs, and various customs.
It permeates every aspect of life, from rituals and symbols to seasonal events, emphasizing harmony with nature and the community. So, everything around them has positive and negative attributes, from animals to numbers to colors. For instance, the Japanese flag features a white background with a big red circle in the middle. Japan is called The Land of the Rising Sun because that’s where the natural International Date Line begins (not the fake International Date Line made up by men influenced by Geopolitics, Lol). 🇯🇵The white signifies purity and freshness, while the red symbolizes wards off evil and attracts good energy. Datsuzoku and auspiciousness intersect in the pursuit of personal freedom by exploring one’s self. Welcoming the idea of escaping the ordinary, you can open yourself to auspicious experiences, leading to a life filled with creativity, growth, and positive outcomes. That's the idea.
So, let me tell you how I learned Datsuzoku. A young Japanese man who spoke no English explained his emotional response to our daring illusion performed for a live audience and millions of TV viewers in Japan, which deviated from everyday illusions performed on stage. Jonathan and I were chained and locked in a solid wood box, then hoisted up about 30 meters in the air by a crane. Jonathan escaped first by climbing the ladder out of the top. But then the box broke and fell to the ground below with me in it. Shocked and worried faces looked on, concerned about my well-being, as the sound of a helicopter could be heard flying in from the distance. When it came closer into sight, the audience was stunned and relieved to see me sitting in the open space of the helicopter, waving at the spectators below. The young man called our performance Datsuzoku.
I didn't understand what he was discussing, so my translator helped me decipher it. Daksuzoku refers to leaving behind your comfort zone and breaking free from the norm and mundane. The concept is about moving beyond one’s safe space and welcoming the tension of uncertainty. While this, for sure, can be intimidating, the Japanese believe the rewards of diving into new experiences are empowerment and personal growth through achievement. My Dad’s most excellent advice was to follow my dreams, and I would never have to work a day. However, following dreams takes risks when liberating yourself from the ordinary. So, the Japanese are encouraged to embrace new experiences that ultimately lead to a more fulfilling and enriched life. This is Datsuzoku, and it’s one of those Japanese words representing an abstract concept without translation to English because the idea doesn’t exist in American and other cultures. However, Spanish has some of the same nuances and connotations as these ideas. In Spanish, romper con lo cotidiano translates to "breaking away from the every day" and reflects the concept of Datsuzoku in embracing originality, creativity, and escape from routine. But it's difficult to explain in English without a counterpart word to describe it. I must say, anyone who knows me knows I am terrified of heights. I ventured into the unknown when I accepted the challenge of performing this dangerous illusion. Although I escaped in the safety of a helicopter, I can tell you my knuckles were white as I smiled and waved confidently at the audience below. Trying to look excited and joyful while sitting at the edge of my seat in a helicopter and greeting the onlookers qualified as stepping out of my comfort zone. It was then I understood Datsuzoku. Escaping the box through the top hatch like Jonathan did was risky, and I would have been pushing the boundaries for myself.
Applying the Japanese principle of Datsuzoku to my life was intriguing. In the proper cultural context, it means taking a creative break from your routine and taking a detour from your everyday life. Enjoy a hobby once a day or week, for instance. Challenge yourself to learn something new, like a foreign language, or go back to school to pursue the degree you’ve always wanted. You succeed by trying something new because you are willing to break out of your typical mold and explore. When you seek, you find. And you keep doing this until perhaps you’ve mastered a new skill set.
What I learned that day from the young gentleman at Mt. Fuji was that the shocking aspect of our performance surprised the audience that day and left many speechless by defying the usual expectations and conventions of what is customary to expect from a magic show. We beautifully captured the essence of transcending a typical experience through a stunning illusion, leaving the audiences who dared to watch dumbfounded. The illusion’s danger created a sense of thrill, suspense, and wonder. At the same time, the eventual resolution—where I reappear in a helicopter—added a layer of comfort or relief to the spectators watching the show, spotlighting that the escape from the precarious situation is part of the magical artistry. Datsuzoku was a perfect name for this masterpiece illusion, created by Jonathan, who lived “pushing the envelope.”
As I sat in the helicopter following my performance, with adrenaline still coursing through my body, I felt a remarkable sense of awareness of life's transient beauty, much like the fleeting moments we often overlook in our daily lives. It was as though I had stepped into a realm where the ordinary transformed into the extraordinary; every heartbeat and every breath held more significance.
The revelation that came with this experience illuminated the magic in the everyday—how taking risks and daring to be different can lead to moments of sheer joy and wonder—in the backdrop of Mount Fuji, the beauty of the landscape mingled with a feeling of release and growth. I understood that this journey was not just about the illusion itself but about the deeper meaning that lies within magical experiences—the essence of finding beauty in the unexpected and appreciating the intricate dance between fear, excitement, and freedom.
In that moment of realization, I truly embraced the spirit of Datsuzoku, recognizing that it isn't simply about the performance but my personal growth, the connection to my audience, and the profound joy of experiencing life beyond its habitual boundaries. This newfound understanding inspires me to seek out and celebrate those moments of magic that exist daily, forever changing how I approach my art and life.
Below is The Pendragon’s video of their escape performance for NHK Japanese TV, filmed near Mount Fuji in 1987. It’s been years, if not a few decades, since I’ve seen it. It was a treasure of surprises for me when I found it. And watching it brought back so many memories, too many to share. But here are a few. Near the beginning of the video, we are shown walking through the Tokyo airport after an 11-hour flight from Los Angeles. All you want to do after a long journey is find a bed. I was wearing sunglasses because I’d put my contact lenses in my dry eyes, which were itching. We were greeted by a TV crew who recorded everywhere we went, including the bus ride to our hotel, setting up our equipment, lunch breaks, dinner, and rehearsals. The cameras attracted many people, and we had a decent fan base in Japan because we’d often performed there on TV.
My first meal after we arrived at our hotel was breakfast. Unlike Tokyo, where you have a wide selection of food choices, including American, out in the country, Japanese food was the only choice unless you ate at the theme park, where you could get chicken tenders and French fries. Forgive me, sushi lovers, because I know you are passionate about the famous Japanese dish, but I’ve never been fond of sushi. Well, to my surprise, sushi was my breakfast. It was real sushi, everything authentic. At the same time, American sushi celebrates creativity and variety and incorporates non-traditional ingredients, flavors, and techniques. Sushi-like "California rolls," including crab, avocado, and cucumber, showcase this fusion approach. On the rare occasion I eat sushi, I opt for the California tuna roll. Traditional Japanese sushi is quite different, focusing on freshness, authenticity, and cultural significance, concentrating on the delicate balance of flavors and textures. I picked out anything edible from my breakfast bento box, which wasn't much because food portions are much smaller than American portions. Every day, I brought a new breakfast sushi surprise. Some mornings, small steak bites were served, and our Japanese hosts would give us all the meat from their breakfast. Most every day, my main meal was chicken tenders from the theme park. Boy, I craved fruit, which I'd taken for granted growing up in California’s bread basket. In Japan, fruit is rare, so when you eat it, it's a rare and appreciative experience.
I loved our Japanese bathroom because the bathtub was like a small step-down pool with a shower and windows looking out to a beautiful garden. After a long day of filming in rehearsal, this was my go-to space to spend much alone time. We also had some free time, which I spent walking near Mt Fuji. One day, I walked up the lower path on Mt Fuji, enjoying the picturesque scenery and breathing fresh air. It was invigorating, and the smell of wood permeated the forest after the rain. It was my way of unwinding and taking a break from the stress of performing and the extended film days. My Datsuzoku!
Click grey arrow below to play the video
We watched you perform at the Palace Theatre in Manchester, New Hampshire in the early 2000s - still one of the most extraordinary performances we've ever seen. Some shows are enjoyable, but the Pendragons were utterly astonishing.
This was the coolest ever! Omgosh Charlotte! What a life! You are just adorable! I love your description of Japan and the people. This magic trick/stunt was amazing! Thank you for sharing this. oxox