Report on my visit to the Pingu Exhibition at the Yurakucho Museum

I finally went to the Pingu Exhibition I had been looking forward to for so long.

To sum it up, it was amazing.

I'm writing down my thoughts while still basking in the afterglow.

First of all, the exhibition style was fantastic.

Once you enter, the layout allows you to walk around freely and view the exhibits.
However, you can't go back once you move to the next room, so you naturally find yourself taking your time and immersing yourself in the displays.

Seeing what you want to see, for as long as you want, as your heart desires. This free and easy-going pace felt like it perfectly embodied the world of Pingu, which I really liked.

I immersed myself in the world of Pingu while carefully observing the actual clay figures and production materials used in the filming.

While I was excited and thinking 'So cute!!', it was also a highly satisfying exhibition that allowed me to learn about how these works were actually created.

You can really see so much. These photos are just a small fraction, so if you're interested, I highly recommend seeing it in person.
It was very interesting.

The Pingu Dance that became a hot topic for being impossible to replicate

I was also able to see the Pingu Dance that became a hot topic for being 'impossible to replicate'.

Set to rhythmic music, various scenes of Pingu are cut together like a MAD video, and Pingu tells you to 'Try and copy me!' while performing movements that are impossible for humans to replicate.

It naturally gives you a high dopamine rush. I was so happy to see it.
Yay!

Photography is allowed even though it's a paid event

I was surprised that there wasn't a single no-photography area, despite all these valuable exhibits on display.
And posting on social media is also okay.
When you think about it calmly, that's actually quite amazing.

In fact, the exhibition is set up as if to say, 'Please take photos and enjoy yourself.'

Even from an amateur's perspective, I imagine clay animation is an incredibly time-consuming world. I'm sure it's a series of grueling tasks.

But as I took photos of the actual Pingu clay figures and sets, I was amazed by the range of expressions Pingu and the others showed, and I realized I was getting absorbed in it as I kept taking more.

The feeling that the production team truly loves 'filming' really comes across.

It's a wonderful event, through and through. I was genuinely moved.

Pingu, passed down.

Otmar Gutmann, who created Pingu and continued filming until just before he passed away.

Mr. Katō, a Japanese animator living in Germany, who carries on that vision and continues the production.

Why did a Japanese person take over? How did that come about?
I'm curious about many things, but one thing is certain: there are no borders of country or language in Pingu's work.

Pingu hardly speaks any Japanese, but emotions like happiness, sadness, frustration, shyness, and anger come through clearly.

Even if countries, languages, races, and cultures differ, human emotions remain the same.
Watching Pingu reminds you of that naturally.

That must be the reason why it has been loved all over the world for so long.

It doesn't end with just 'it was a cute exhibition'.

It was a wonderful exhibition that made me feel once again the love for craftsmanship and how people can connect through emotions.

In these days when AI is all the talk, increasing opportunities to touch the origins of creativity like this might actually be very important.

I had no intention of buying anything, but I ended up spending 7,000 yen in the shop area.

The magic of merchandise is just too strong.

Everyone, you should definitely go check it out.