This summer I had the pleasure and the honour to travel to Onitsuka Tiger’s hometown of Kobe and interview five of the men responsible for the founding of the brand and its early growth. From the birth of some of our most iconic products to the design of the logo script, I got to hear so many first hand stories about where Onitsuka Tiger comes from, which will hopefully play a big part in where we’re going.

Please take some time to view the first episode of the series we worked on in Kobe, “Roots,” which explores the connection between Onitsuka Tiger and Kobe.

Thanks also go out to Ian Lynam, the team at AQ, Toshiki Senuoe and the ASICS team at Headquarters for helping this come together.

Our last interview for the GENTEN project was with the man arguably closest to our Founder, Kihachiro Onitsuka. Before joining what was then called Onitsuka Corp, Yoshida-san served as one of the most senior members in the Japanese Athletics Association, working with Japan’s best athletes and coaches. In Japan, working directly under a high-ranking official is seen as an extreme honour, so Yoshida-san’s move from leading the JAA to working as Onitsuka-san’s executive assistant was in many ways a promotion.

Dapper, gregarious and energetic, Yoshida-san immediately lit-up the room when he arrived on our makeshift set at the Onitsuka Tiger Planning office in Tokyo’s Harajuku district. I can’t lie, I’m planning to steal his entire style, his Savile Row-tailored suit, Henry Poole suspenders, linen pocket square, and especially his pocket watch all blew me away. The man had style and carried himself like a classical gentleman at all times.

Yoshida-san's watch next to mine

Yoshida-san worked with ASICS and Onitsuka Tiger from 1969-2009 and in his 40 years of service, he got to see the greater part of the brand’s evolution as a high-perfomance, high-technology sports brand, and it’s rebirth as a sports fashion brand. At Mr. Onitsuka’s side during every business trip and major decision, there wasn’t much that he missed during his tenure. Amongst the standout stories from our talk was the development of the Kirimomi-sakusen philosophy. Literally “The Spinning Drill Tactic” this was an idea born when the Russian Olympic wrestling team refused to wear Onitsuka Tiger shoes because at the time, the company didn’t create any apparel or equipment to go along with their footwear. Under the guidance of Onitsuka-san—who was inspired by a nameless, but hilariously pronounced Italian fashion brand—the team began creating products with a laser-like focus that recalled the traditional kiri woodworking tool, which creates a pinpoint hole by being spun in place.

Mr. Onitsuka in the 80's

Yoshida-san’s energy vacillated throughout the day. At times he was thoughtful and reverent, as when he discussed Mr. Onitsuka’s leadership style and unique ability to adjust his internal clock to any time zone in a matter of minutes and at other times he was bubbly and giddy.

The Onitsuka Tiger Marathon Anthem

I’m not sure if it had to do with nerves, excitement or a mixture of both, but from the moment he stepped into the make-up chair, he started singing, and pretty much never stopped. Singing, not humming, not mumbling, but full-bodied singing, singing songs written to welcome tourists as they arrived at Japan’s major airports, traditional Japanese soul songs, and most important, the Onitsuka Tiger Marathon Anthem. The Marathon Anthem was written as a rallying call for runners before they began a marathon, that was sung in the 1970′s and 80′s across Japan. Yoshida-san was more than happy to give us his best rendition, and it was awesome.

This interview was bittersweet to say the least, while it was one of the more comfortable and fun parts of the process, it actually signalled the end of my project in Japan, which came with a heartbreaking realisation. Reflecting on the trip now, I’m extremely grateful for this opportunity, and at the same time, feel the burden of telling all of these stories in an honest way.

More photos below, and more to come.

Tokyo is a special city. Exhausted from our whirlwind week in Kobe, I slept most of the 3-hour train ride. When our train arrived at Shibuya station, overwhelmed by bright lights and loud sounds, I felt like I had awoken on an alien planet.

Shibuya Station

Emerging from my red-eyed, sleep-deprived, zombie-like state in the back of a cab I began to see the correlations between Tokyo and New York. Based on my first impressions, I would describe Tokyo as the more humble, more considered wing of the same bird as my adoptive hometown. Where Kobe was very metropolitan and very international, there was still a sense of quaintness exuded by the people; they were sometimes too considerate, too helpful and too nice to be believable as urban dwellers. Tokyo, like New York, seemed to race at the speed of light, and despite the time we arrived it seemed like life was in full swing on the still crowded streets.

I briefly stopped by my hotel in Aoyama, which I later found out was known as the “Beverly Hills” of Tokyo (the hotel I stayed in still hasn’t found out), before leaving to explore Shibuya more thoroughly.

As bright as Times Square but as rebellious as Camden, Shibuya on a Saturday Night was definitely a visual experience, with Goths, Punks, Hip-Hop heads and of course the world-famous “Shibuya Girls” milling from club to club. One thing that surprised me right off the bat was the number of foreigners on the streets of Tokyo: not just the expected tourists, but also Nigerian club promoters, Russian ballet dancers and no shortage of white guys dressed like Japanese cartoon characters.

The next day, I tried to take advantage of the Summer Sale season and visit the extensive list of stores that I got from Kwon (the guy that brought you this, this, and these amongst others.) In addition to the usual suspects like Alife, Supreme and UNDFTD, the deep, deep itinerary he gave me included a lot of homegrown stores like Okura, Silas&Maria and the flagships for Japanese brands like Visvim and White Mountaineering. Each neighbourhood had a very distinct character that was reflected in the character and curation of its stores: Harajuku is all flash, and focused on the new, Daikanyama’s boutiques communicate class and subtlety, and Ueno’s “stores” –like the legendary Mita Sneakers–feel more like stands in a Third World flea market.

I can’t talk about Tokyo without talking about the great people that I got a chance to hang out with who all helped make the experience as comfortable as possible for me.
Thank you to:
My new homegirl Aya for showing me the sites and putting up with me while I played The Ultimate Tourist.

My best friend‘s father, the great Philip Woo for inviting me to the New York Bar of Lost in Translation fame to see you play, then taking me out for sashimi.

The view from New York Bar

Thanks to my friend Takayuki Akachi (also known as this guy), Akiko and the Tangram team, it was great to finally meet you all and I hope we get to work together soon.

Thanks to Takashi and the geniuses at Team-Lab for letting me see your mad scientist laboratory, firehouse burgers and taking me out on my last night.

And finally thanks to Ian, Toshiki, Chris and Micke from the AQ extended family for not only showing me a great time, but also helping make this project happen.

A wrap-up of the final interview to come.

After dealing with Inohara-san’s endless energy, our third day of shooting had a completely different feel and pace. My last interview subject in Kobe was one of Onitsuka Tiger’s most heralded athletes, Kenji Kimihara. Despite his many accomplishments, Kimihara-san was humble and quiet, he arrived with his son and grandson and he exuded a nervous energy that was striking considering that, as a Silver medalist and the winner of multiple marathons, I was sure he had done his share of press and interviews.

Through some bizarre twist of logic, this man was nervous to speak to me. An athlete of the highest order who, well into his 60′s still runs at least one marathon a year was nervous about being interviewed by a relative pup like me. Feeling that I should be more nervous than him, I suddenly found myself in a feedback loop of nervousness, his nerves amplifying mine. What resulted was a jittery, sweaty palmed performance of pleasantries on my part in our makeshift green room that did nothing to calm either one of us down.

I was honestly prepared for a horrendous day of shooting, until the cameras actually started rolling and we got into the flow of the interview. Once Kimihara-san was able to speak candidly about his experiences with Onitsuka Tiger leading up to his triumph at the 1968 games, his nervousness melted and gave way to a more easy going energy as he recounted the customisations he made to the shoes that he wore to a silver medal finish in Mexico City. Working hand-in-hand with our product team, Kimihara-san was the catalyst for many of the developments seen in the MAGIC RUNNER pictured above. The holes he cut in the shoes to prevent blisters would give birth to our first ventilation system for runners, where the removal of fabrics on the heel tab and ankle support led to a reduction in the weight and stiffness of the heel of the shoe that made it lighter and more form fitting.

Having already spoken to part of the development team that had worked on the MAGIC RUNNER and other shoes from that era, it was interesting to get the perspective of the athlete whose professional life literally hinged on the product’s ability to perform under duress. Looking at his heavily customised samples, it was clear that Kimihara-san shared Sakaguchi- and Inohara-sans’ view that the product could always be better, and by “better” I mean more efficient, and more practical.

One thing I started to take away from these meetings was Onitsuka Tiger’s early fixation with being The Best. I don’t speak Japanese but the word Ichiban (number one) came up over and over again in each interview. In the West, there is a tendency to paint Asian cultures as demure and humble, but the men I got to meet with in Kobe all seemed obsessed with being the best: the best athlete, the best product designer, the best brand, the best, number one, ichiban. Kimihara-san was a great example of the dichotomy at play in that fixation. On the one hand, he was quiet and nervous at the prospect of being interviewed about his achievements, on the other, his youth was spent in pursuit of the loftiest of goals, and he had no shame admitting he wanted nothing less than Gold.

Kimihara-san and the products he helped create were cited more than once as examples of the idea of Choujyu-saksusen literally “The Summit Tactic.” As one of the core principles of the brand, Choujyu-sakusen could most easily be definited as the idea that starting from the top will yield better results and deepr learning than starting from the bottom. By focusing on making the best product for the best athletes, the brand was able to grow quickly in terms of technology and reputation, much faster than they would have if they had focused on making products for the mass market with the goal of cashing out immediately.

After his gracious interview, we bid adieu to Kimihara-san and to Kobe, as I traveled with the crew to Tokyo for our last week of shooting and our final interview.

More to come.

Some photos from around Kobe, taken with my iPhone and Ian’s 5D that he let me borrow. Kobe is the rare type of city that manages to be quaint and cosmopolitan at the same time. The people are extremely polite and considerate, and the shopping, especially the vintage shopping is insane.

The Vinyl Chamber

Bingo Vintage Store

T-Shirts at Bingo!

Lover's prayers at Ikta Shrine

Kobe Manhole

French Fries and Chopsticks

Kobe from Rokko Mountain

More:

Original OK Basketball Shoe from 1950

While I was in Kobe, I got the chance to check out the ASICS Sports Museum, these are some of the pieces on display there, but barely the tip of the iceberg.

Marathon Tabi from 1953

Delegation shoes for the Japanese athletes at the 1952 Melbourne Olympics

Kenji Kimihara's Silver-Medal-Winning Magic Runner from the 1968 Olympic Games

Sakaguchi-san's pride and joy: Nylon wrestling shoe from 1955

The LIMBER LEATHER, the first sneaker to feature the now-famous Tiger Strike

Shoes worn by Yukio Kasaya on his Gold medal ski jump at the 1972 Sapporo Olympics, combination leather/rubber sole

Legendary Finnish runner Lasse Viren's Gold Medal winning RUNSPARKS from the 1976 Olympics

GEHRIG Baseball Spikes from 1974

Astronaut Training shoes inspired by traditional Japanese Tabi

The Octopus Suction Sole

Our second day of interviews featured the only Legend on our schedule who is actually still an active employee at ASICS. At the age of 64, Inohara-san continues to consult the team at Head Quarters as well as maintaining his duties as Shoe Master of the ASICS museum which holds some pretty amazing pieces from every era of the brand’s history. Before our interview began, Inohara-san decided to give us a guided tour of the museum from top to bottom, adding a lot of personal stories behind the development of some key pieces.

Original Tiger Cortez (taken on Instagram)

Runspark worn by Lasse Viren during Olympic win

Walking through the museum unaccompanied the day before, we got to see the number of Athletes who achieved great victories in our shoes from current stars like Ichiro Suzuki and Hozumi Hasegawa to icons of the past like Yukio Kasaya, who’s record-breaking Gold Medal win in Sapporo launched Onitsuka Tiger to international fame. As eye-opening and impressive as it was to take in the sights at the museum, the experience was exponentially deepened by Inohara-san’s presence.

Even after spending more than half a century at the company, he was still extremely enthusiastic and lively as he gave us a tour of the products that he and his predecessors had worked on. Trying not to appear jetlagged, I genuinely envied his energy level, at one point he actually sprinted to his office and back to fetch a business card at a speed that would be striking for a 30-year-old, but almost ridiculous for a 60-year-old.

Inohara-san’s energy and charm made the day an easy one, his eagerness to share his insight on the product development process and on the development of the company’s culture was infectious and despite the language barrier had the assembled crew breaking out in laughter. A natural teacher, Inohara-san shared stories boisterously and easily, but I was affected by his humility and reverence for Onitsuka-san.

When asked what kept him motivated to continue working with the company after 45 years, Inohara-san reflected and responded that even 4 years after our founder’s passing, he was motivated by his desire to exceed Onitsuka-san’s expectations. Walking through Onitsuka-san’s still-maintained office, he stood in the spot where he was often admonished by his mentor and told us about his mentor’s uncommon ability to visualise a product’s final form upon seeing the earliest design sketches. In liberal strokes of red pen, Onitsuka-san would often send Inohara-san back to the product lab with heavy feedback, and recommendations. To this day, those strokes of red pen keep Inohara-san’s standards incredibly high as he continues to consult the team at head quarters. Working in the shadow of a giant is not an easy task for anyone, but the culture of focus, and craftsmanship that was cultivated in that shade may be Onitsuka-san’s greatest legacy.

Trying on a pair of Astronaut shoes, they went to space. No, really.

Family and Friends Summer 2011 from Onitsuka Tiger on Vimeo.

A recap of our goings on at Berlin Fashion week in July featuring footage of Donnis’ performance behind Nippon Sounds
#goodtimes

Original sketches

Shortly after Uetsuki-san left, we continued our first day of shooting with Sakaguchi-san. Sakaguchi-san started with Onitsuka Tiger in 1954, so he has some deep insight into the earliest days of our company as one of its first full-time employees. Working with Mr. Onitsuka until 2002, Sakaguchi-san had a hand in the design and development of the vast majority of shoes that bear the Onitsuka Tiger name.

Original OK Basketball shoe circa 1950's

Where Uetsuki-san was very gregarious and affable, I think the best way to describe Sakaguchi-san would be “thorough.” As soon as he arrived, he displayed a particularly endearing type of charisma that comes with the right combination of seniority and accomplishment. Arriving in a black suit that he wore just for his flight, his presence and self-assured manner commanded such respect and reverence that we were all inspired to collect and carry his materials—I was charged with carrying his suitcase—while he inspected the camera and light set-up. A photographer himself, Sakaguchi-san inquisitively took in the entire set-up, asking our team a series of questions on the particulars of the equipment, before disappearing downstairs to change into his interview outfit and going through hair and make-up. I got the sense he relished the chance to be on camera despite his stubborn outward appearance, as he enthusiastically told me about his many post-retirement projects, including an award winning rose garden. Using the same attention to detail and focus that gave birth to countless footwear styles, he now occupies his time trying to breed the “perfect rose,” with the hopes that he will be able to work for the rest of his life because he believes activity will keep him young.

When the time came for us to do the interview for tape, he was extremely open about the development of our earliest pieces, going into great detail about the development of the different technologies and craft techniques employed in the 1950′s and 60′s. What struck me the most about the process he described was the amount of influence that everyday life had on the development of those early shoes. For example, the “Caterpillar” sole was inspired by deep-treaded tires that Sakaguchi-san saw at a car show, while the cup sole on the OK Basketball shoe was famously inspired by an octopus sucker stuck to the bottom of a bowl of soup.

Original design options for the Tiger Stripe

Everything about Sakaguchi-san communicated focus and a detailed-oriented care for completion, and I quickly came to admire his concern for all facets of his projects. The pride that he took in his work was endearing and showed a different dimension of Onitsuka Tiger’s legacy that I hope will be highlighted in the final project. The collection of catalogues and notes he brought to the interview included a stack of post cards from around the world sent to him by Japanese athletes. Each one was a handwritten thank you note, thanking him for his hands-on nature and role in their performances. It was refreshing to see that as a craftsman, he took pride not only in the execution and creation of his products, but also in their usefulness and application in the careers and lives of the athletes he worked with.

Our conversation also gave me a lot of insight into the character of Onitsuka-san. From the first two interviews, I got the sense that he was an austere and direct man who held the entire staff to a high standard, but never truly separated himself from the team when it came to work. My favourite story I heard on the first day would have to be Sakaguchi-san’s re-telling of the development of the North Pole Boot, which was created to be worn by a Japanese expedition to the Arctic Circle in the 1960′s. In order to test the shoes, the team created a cold facility to simulate Arctic conditions. In order to test the product, the development team would enter the -40° facility to see how long they could withstand the temperature in the test boots. Sakaguchi-san told me that after 15 seconds in the cold room, the moisture on their eyebrows and beards would freeze and leave their faces covered in icicles. Where most modern CEO’s would have left this type of work to their employees, however, Onitsuka-san was on hand for all of these tests, entering the cold room with the team during every test phase, even going so far as to test the boots without socks to see how their insulation held-up.

Assertive, thoughtful and comprehensive in his comments, Sakaguchi-san’s interview provided an incredible amount of depth on the history of the brand, and honestly I think we could have shot the entire documentary by filming him telling me stories as he got his make-up removed. After an incredible Day One, I felt like I learned more about Onitsuka Tiger, what it means and where it’s coming from in four hours than I had the previous 14 months that I had worked for the brand.

More to come.

Post Cards written by athletes thanking Sakaguchi-san for his shoes

Two pairs of OK Basketball shoes from the 1950's

So the project has officially started, after a day of planning and finally being introduced to our crew, lead by Art Director/Professor/Modern Renaissance Man Ian Lynam, I felt enthusiastic but increasingly nervous. Things got very real when our “props” arrived; original, well preserved sneakers from the 1950′s and 60′s. As a student of history and a sneaker head, I was familiar with almost all of these pieces via our catalogues, but seeing them in the flesh (canvas?) really established the gravity of our undertaking.

A Legend Arrives

“Gravity” became “immense and suffocating pressure and anxiety” the moment our first interview subject arrived at head quarters. Japanese culture is extremely reverential to the elderly, so as soon as our first subject arrived, my teammates from the home office descended on him with a hero’s greeting. From my perch above the main entrance, I was suddenly self-conscious and afraid that one of my mannerisms or gestures would offend our esteemed guest, Uetsuki-san.

As head of Marketing and Promotions during our brand’s earliest years, Uetsuki-san was one of the most influential figures in the development of Onitsuka Tiger’s identity. In addition to creating our logo and several other brandmarks, Uetsuki-san also traveled extensively for the company, representing Onitsuka Tiger at athletic events around the world. The bag of artifacts he brought to the office included a tangle of id’s, a stack of passports and books of original notes and sketches from the 1950′s and 60′s. On top of all this, he arrived at the office with 30 pages of handwritten notes that he prepared for our interview. I felt humbled and grateful to see that he didn’t view our project as a chore or obligation, but instead as an opportunity to pass his knowledge and experience to younger generations. His gregarious nature, enthusiasm and humility along with the professionalism of our crew quickly put me at ease and our first interview went extremely well.

Speaking to Uetsuki-san, I was taken not only by his accomplishments, but also by his humility and energy. He seemed to genuinely see the importance of keeping the philosophies and values at the heart of our company alive, which was evident in his explanation of our founder’s ideals and vision. As a relative newbie, it was easy for me to see how these ideas still permeated our company culture and business practices, but also surprising to see how as our brand has grown and become more international, certain facets of that initial vision have been altered, distorted and, in some cases, lost. The sense of duty with which he shared his insights into where we come from as a company, and where he believes we should go added a sense of gravitas to the interview that would colour my interactions with the other legends I would interview in the coming days.

See more photos below, and look forward to more on the making of this documentary.

Logo sketches for the Tokyo Olympics

One of Uetsuki-san's many filled up passports

The travelling man