Nostalgia, tarab, meraki, shokunin

This weekend, I watched the UK stage adaptation of the Studio Ghibli film, My Neighbour Totoro, at the Barbican Centre. To say that it was the best theatrical production I have seen in my life would be an understatement. Heartwarming, witty, and charming, do not even scratch the surface in describing it. This week, I'll be looking at a few words to describe this production.

First, the since the film was released in 1988, countless numbers of people have seen the film. I, like many of the audience members who grew up watching Hayao Miyazaki's films and listening to Joe Hisaishi's music, found the show incredibly nostalgic.

'Nostalgia' describes an sentimental yearning for a period from one's past. It derives from the Ancient Greek terms: vόστoς (nostos, 'returning home') and ἄλγoς (algos, 'pain'), as a translation for the German word, Heimweh. The predecessor for the these terms was mal du Suisse, or 'Swiss illness'. During the sixteenth century, Swiss mercenaries—who were regarded as the most valuable fighters in Europe—were afflicted with a peculiar disease that led to fevers, abdominal pain, fainting, vomiting, and even death. Some doctors believed that this was caused by brain damage sustained from hearing cowbell clanging continuously since childhood. If one hummed a Swiss shepherd's song, one faced execution, as there was fear that these soldiers would desert in large numbers. Jean-Jacques Rousseau even said that these mercenaries 'dissolved in tears, deserted, or were left heartbroken, so powerfully did the song arouse in them the ardent desire to see their homeland once more'. In 1688, Swiss physician Johannes Hofer renamed the ailment as nostalgia. From its initial connotations of homesickness and longing for a tangible, physical space, nostalgia later broadened in meaning to include a temporal dimension.

It is because of nostalgia, that at several occasions during the show, I was driven to tears. However, nostalgia was not the sole cause. Music played a big part during the production, although many of the songs were sung in English, many too were sung in Japanese. Moreover, even without having words to accompany the music played by the instrumentalists, many in the theatre were driven to tears too. One has to turn to Arabic to describe this transcendent nature of music.

The Arabic word طرب (tarab) describes the profound and transformative emotions that arise from music. Borrowing the words of Victor Hugo, tarab encapsulates the idea that 'music expresses that which cannot be put into words and that which cannot remain silent'. Tarab refers to the profound spiritual reactions and enchantment that music evokes in us. Whilst tarab is a genre of music, it is also just as much as a state of being. Tarab has been known since medieval times to be ecstasy-inducing, whether it be joy or sorrow. It is believed that tarab can heal physical ailments as well as purify the soul from past traumas.

Finally, to find tarab in plentiful amounts in this show, is without a doubt a testament to the heart and soul that went into the production of My Neighbout Totoro. Again, there is no sole and pithy English word that perfectly encapsulates this concept. One could use the Greek word, 'meraki'.

The Greek term, μεράκι (meraki), often associated with creative endeavours, refers to performing work with love, passion, and inventiveness. It describes circumstances in which someone has given something of themselves, such cooking from the heart, creating music from the soul, or penning an essay that candidly, vulnerably, and openly expresses their ideas. Aristotle observed that comedies, dramas, and tragedies made with passion uplifted people's spirits and left them in awe.

Alternatively, one could use 'shokunin'. 職人 (shokunin) refers to an artist or draftsman who is deeply and singularly dedicated to their craft. Shokunin could be taken as 'craftsmanship', but its definition has been enlarged to also embrace ideals of doing something, specifically being an expert at something for the sake of doing it.

In sum, My Neighbour Totoro was a labour of love, and the result of the craftsmanship, meraki and shokunin of countless amounts of people. It evoked nostalgia and tarab, and is a show I would not hesitate to see again.