We, without doubt, lay ourselves in “places,” which, if we heed the specialty of things therein or the history therewith, appear to us as having a variety of meanings. In this serial article, we aim to contemplate various “places” found in Todai’s campuses with the cultural geographer Dr. James Thurgill, who interprets “places” by employing a knowledge of the humanities that spans philosophy, history, anthropology, and so on. Our first meeting is at Akamon in Hongo Campus. (Interviewed, Written and Translated by Mon Madomitsu)
Dr. James Thurgill Graduated from the graduate school of University of London in 2014. Ph. D (Cultural Geography). After serving as an assistant professor at University of the Arts London, from 2017 he is a project associate professor of the University of Tokyo.
“Why are there beings at all instead of nothing?” This is a question posed by the philosopher Martin Heidegger, who regarded what we do not see as “absence”. Dr. Thurgill pays attention to “spatial absence” at the entrance of Akamon as an interesting point to consider the space around the famous gate. Unlike other gates in the Todai campus, Akamon is roofed and is surrounded by a thick wall (see below). As such, when we stand in front of Akamon and look into the Todai campus, we cannot see the world beyond, which is veiled by the gate’s frame and wall, and so it appears to be absent to us. The action of going through the gate, however, allows the world beyond to unfold before us, and thus absence turns to presence.
“Absence is recognized through presence, and vice versa,” says Dr. Thurgill. In other words, by grasping the space that is veiled by Akamon and which thus appears “absent,” we come to understand that the landscape of the Todai campus, as it is perceived through the gate, is but a part of the whole. Such an understanding of “spatial absence” invites us to see what is still unseeable, to imagine what lies beyond the gate.
Dr. Thurgill points out that the Akamon embraces such a paradox, inviting people to enter while simultaneously regulating their movement and vision. Cultural geographer Tim Cresswell has suggested that a disturbance to people’s mobility, such as traffic congestion or airport departure gates, is a type of “friction”. According to Dr. Thurgill, the Akamon also produces friction by regulating the movement of people who pass through it.
Akamon produces “absence”, and also adds “friction” to the movement of people.
Akamon has one large door and two small doors (see above),and according to the door that is open, people’s view ofand movement inthe space will differ. It is only through the gate─the framework─that people can view the landscape beyond and move towards it. Heidegger used the word “Gestell”─framework─to explain that the way of being is prescribed by environment. The structure of Akamon is indeed Gestell, which regulates and prescribes the movement of people’s physicality.
In addition, Dr. Thurgill, employs the concept of “liminality”, proposed by the anthropologist Turner. This concept points to a transgressive change, and Turner regarded places such as shrines or churches, where people enter and experience a transformation that makes them move away from their daily life, as “liminal places”. Dr. Thurgill, however, thinks that the university is also a liminal place, for people there retreat from the mundane world and engage in academic life. Akamon indeed functions as a boundary line between two such places.
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Between two different regions, there exists some sort of a wall, if not a physical one then one that is imagined. In order to get access to another region, we need a gate. Nevertheless, we should be careful when following the path through it. By composing “spatial absence”, the gate certainly has a function that invites people into it, yet through nothing but the composed “absence” it engenders, it produces friction on people’s movement.
In today’s globalizing society, it is not difficult to think of a “different culture” as an example of a “wall” which is close to us. Such a wall may be physical, as President Trump proposes, or imagined, existing only in one’s mind.
Generally speaking, placing not a wall but a gate between different cultures is the first step toward interaction. If we take “cross-cultural exchange” too flippantly, however, might we not end up spreading the belief that those we interact with are no more than people who entertain us by providing us with an extraordinary “liminal place”? Or might we not end up producing friction among those who are about to move through the gate and consequently emphasizing the wall more than what is beyond it? In case of the interaction among different individuals, what should we suppose beyond the framework of wall and gate? Such questions are worth contemplating while enjoying the view of Akamon.
We, without doubt, lay ourselves in “places,” which, if we heed the specialty of things therein or the history therewith, appear to us as having a variety of meanings. In this serial article, we aim to contemplate various “places” found in Todai’s campuses with the cultural geographer Dr. James Thurgill, who interprets “places” by employing a knowledge of the humanities that spans philosophy, history, anthropology, and so on. Our second meeting is at Sanshiro Pond in Hongo Campus.
(Interviewed, Written and Translated by Mon Madomitsu)
Dr. James Thurgill Graduated from the graduate school of University of London in 2014. Ph. D (Cultural Geography). After serving as an assistant professor at University of the Arts London, from 2017 he is a project associate professor of the University of Tokyo.
As can be seen in water pollution or global warming, we humans commit acts of “violence” against nature through environmental destruction. Dr. Thurgill points out that Sanshiro Pond offers us an opportunity to reflect upon such an exploitative relationship between humankind and nature by highlighting the tension that exists between humans and the natural world. We can find demonstrations of nature’s tenacity and resistance to human control all around us, even on a small scale. The rocks positioned around the pond, for instance, are uneven and slippery, making its visitors’ foothold unstable and revealing a side of nature that cannot be controlled by humans.
In addition, the perceived ‘closeness’ between human beings and nature that is felt at Sanshiro is worth mentioning. “With the picturesque nature of Sanshiro Pond before us, we begin to perceive nature not as something we utilize, but instead come to respect the agency of nature itself and feel affection toward it.”
“Is this, however, ‘real’ nature?” questions Dr. Thurgill. “The geographer Don Mitchell proposed a critical-geographical view of landscape, which at a first glance seems to be natural yet, in fact, is nothing but a ‘representation’ made by human hands.” Similarly, the nature of Sanshiro Pond gives us the impression that it has existed from ancient times, that it is somehow organic. Nevertheless, typical “natural” elements, such as plants, trees, rocks, a waterfall, the fish and terrapins living in the pond, and the cries of birds, are in fact artificially curated and managed as if the scene were in a museum.
“I feel relaxed in this beautiful natural environment,” said many visitors.
More surprising is that such a representation urges us to construct a non-violent relationship with nature, yet the place itself has actually been composed through the very violence we seek to avoid. In other words, to maintain the beautiful environment of Sanshiro Pond, to execute periodic care such as replacing the water in the pond or removing the weeds in and around it, all mean to some degree that we commit violence against nature. “All forms of ‘maintenance’ apply a certain level of ‘violence’,” states Dr. Thurgill. Yet, the water in the pond gets murky and the weeds still flourish; this is because nature is reclaiming what was taken away by human beings.
This relationship between the man-made and the natural at Sanshiro Pond is reflected in the following argument of the philosopher Martin Heidegger. In his The Origin of the Work of Art, Heidegger posits that a work of art is born from a tension between “World (Welt)” and “Earth (Erde)”. The “World” unfolded by an artwork attempts to cut away from the “Earth” – namely the physical components of the work itself, its raw materials and so on, which together operate to provide the work with context and give meaning to the “World”– yet the “Earth”, in turn, attempts to veil the “World” and hide its meaning.
How, then, can we apply this argument to Sanshiro Pond? Sanshiro Pond, or the “work”, is born from a tension between the artificially represented ‘nature’, or the “World”, and its physical components, namely the ‘real’ nature, or the “Earth” (water, land, trees, etc.). But nature is, of course, only a representation here, a reference to an idealized natural environment, and has been composed and maintained through a physical cutting away of the Earth, through an enacting of violence against nature. Nature, on the contrary, attempts to reclaim that which was stolen by human hands, through “veiling” or hiding itself within the curated representation. As such, behind the precious beauty of Sanshiro Pond is a relentless struggle between the man-made and the natural worlds.
Does it follow, then, that the affection we feel toward nature at Sanshiro Pond is meaningless? Is the reflection upon violence, which is itself realized through violence, completely futile? Dr. Thurgill denies such a view: “We ought to be conscious of the contradictions the status quo contains, yet simultaneously we ought to accept its beneficial points. This is what it means to ‘think critically’.” We are not to praise the ‘natural’ beauty of Sanshiro Pond flippantly, nor are we to feel hopeless about the violence that realizes its beauty. Rather, we need to recognize the violent background on the one hand, but embrace the affection toward nature that Sanshiro Pond offers us on the other; such an attitude can lead us to a better understanding of environmental protection.
それ以外に機能の強化が図られたのは教育学習データの活用だ。導入から時間がたち、東大でITC-LMSの利用者が増加、相当に普及したことで、より大量のデータが蓄積されるようになった。そこで、ITC-LMS上での学生の操作を記録するLRS（Learning Record Store）というシステムを導入し、教育支援用の外部のシステムやツールなどと連携するための標準規格にも準拠したという。
