July 2011
“Unrespected Programs” Sparkled!: Two Art directors Embracing Joyous Challenges
Kyoko Hirotani
The series Testimony on the History of Broadcasting features interviews with those who have contributed to the development of broadcasting to record the oral history of broadcasting. In the 1970s and 1980s TBS’s music show, The Best Ten and variety Hachiji day o” Zen’in shogo (It’s Eight O’clock! Gather Round, Everyone) enjoyed high popularity, but they were surprisingly called “unrespected programs” inside the TV station. That's what made it all the more challenging for the staff and their aggregated energy was conveyed to the audience. And what made the shows so radiant was the studio sets filled with wild and innovative ideas. The author interviewed two former TBS designers, Yasuhiro Mihara (73) and Mitsuro Yamada (67); each of them solely undertook the set design of the respective show.
Mr. Mihara does not like to hear people say “art staffers are unsung heroes.” That is why he took on a challenge of making a set for The Best Ten with a “reversal” idea; he was not “making the background” but “placing TV stars in the center of his set.” His energy that supported the solo set designer of the show for ten years was just amazing, but Mr. Mihara recalls that the concept of a live broadcast in which everything should disappear in a moment became his driving force. Every week, he listened to the relics of the best-ten-songs to understand the meaning, which was converted into a picture. Before long, he realized he was receiving requests from performers. At that time, there was a good relation between the designer and the performers, who were inspired by each other. Believing that the ambience of “live show” can be felt by the viewers, he says television should face up to its primal function “live broadcast” once again. As a TV art designer, Mr. Mihara, who devoted himself to “work that visualize music in a picture” for 40 years, believes the times will come when “just as music arrangements, ‘visual arrangements’ will become widely accepted.”
Mr. Yamada also deeply perceives the efficacy of “live broadcasts. The Hachiji day o” Zen’in shogo contes often used a “collapse of set” where the stage set was intentionally destroyed at the end. He says everyone involved in the program including performers and staff needed to share a sense of tension. Otherwise shooting would fail and it may lead to a serious accident. He believed the sense of tension would become the passion of all involved, who were prompted to make an exciting scene, and would be also felt by the viewers. Mr. Yamada argues that TV art is like “architecture” but it is not a newly-built construction. The important thing is what types of people lived there and for how many years. That is why dust and rubbish are part of art, too. After performers leave the set and the light are put out, the set itself becomes rubbish. It’s his theory that set is a “flower,” which dramatically blossoms and entertains the viewers until it dramatically falls. At the age of 26, Yamada boasted, “Nothing is impossible to the TBS art,” and he proved it through his carrier. Hearing their stories the author began to understand the nature of TV art. The two art designers reminded her of the basis of television.