In this street in Kyoto, there is a geisha school.
Geisha means artist, and in the past her duty was to sing and dance, while entertaining the teahouses’ guests.
Every day for seven years, these students go to school and, mentored under different tutors, learn how to rouge, how to coif, how to wear the traditional gown and how to gracefully dance.
As the actors of “Noh” theatres, geishas paint their faces white in a gesture that aims at purifying the visage from any expressiveness and phlegm. Their idea of femininity has its roots in one of the most ancient Japanese tradition: the women’s complete dedication to men.
Geishas’ art consisted in making men feel like gods.
Nowadays, geishas are a very well-paid tourist attraction.

Seen from the window of a car, Tokyo becomes an array of grey, concrete buildings. Far from compulsion and exuberance the city becomes a pale showcase of neutral office buildings. A small glimpse into a performance-proof großstadt.

Capturing the faces of the young generation of citizens of Tokyo.

Stalking at the urban features of Tokyo. Lounging in the Kenzo Tange's Grand Prince Hotel Akasaka, Michelangelo and Enrica Antonioni depict the room as the perfect concealment for a distant look at building roofs, windows and the interiors. Television is always on.

A constant interest for Michelangelo Antonioni was the research on how, in the near future, filmmakers would be able to narrate stories. When, due to technological innovations, words, emotions and general social interactions will be drastically transformed, there will be the need to learn how Cinema could capture humans again.

PACHINKO
On the strength of the public attendance at all hours, one would say that Pachinko is today’s biggest Japanese passion.
The Pachinko is a one-armed bandit, a sort of vertical pinball machine.
The Pachinko rooms are packed with a wide range of people. It is both a collective and a loner game. Everyone plays by himself, without looking at the hand-in-hand neighbours.
It is said that Pachinko’s turnover exceeds the combined major Japanese department stores’ revenue.
The environment resembles the one of a large laboratory; players seem to be working on an assembly line.
The sense of the scenery is an intense, absorbed endeavour.
The art of this game differentiates from the one of our pinball machines. Once he tosses the little ball, the Western player tries to gradually improve its crossing, while it is the opening flash to determine the Japanese player’s whole game; if this is precise, the little ball will free a deluge of other marbles, and one will either restart or swap his win with a quite modest reward.

M.Antonioni, E.Antonioni

An extended take inside a pachinko game center.

A never-before-seen footage taken inside the Sony factory. During their visit to the multinational company, the production areas were shot aseptically. A space illuminated by neon lights, and populated by specialized workers dressed in neutral work uniforms who conduct their jobs with surgical precision, surrounded by screens and electronic instruments, instantly transformed into an aesthetic strain of models and tools.
The architecture, completely devoid of recongnizable elements, organized according to rigid work schedules and illuminated bright as day in contemporary offices dominated by television screens, may well represent a portion of the social and political future Antonioni intended to document. How is it possible, in fact, to create a film in a moment in which production and technological development are drastically reducing interpersonal relationships? How is it possible to express the need to translate a synthetic and non-human sensation onto film?

Young students, during their leisure time off school, playing video games.

Food Streaming on a game-geared restaurant table.

A brief moment of "portrait" fun. Mrs. Antonioni engages the crew of betacam operators in a video versus photo camera duel.