アート・カンパニーへの10の条件

『知識デザイン企業-ART CONPANY-』（紺野 登 著）を読み終えての備忘録。

あらゆる技術がコモディティ化していく知識社会においては、文化・アート･デザインの力を組織の隅々まで行き渡らせることによってイノベーションを起こすことが必須となってくる。
「品質経営」から「創造経営」へ。


【アート・カンパニーへの10の条件】
1.社会との共創
新しい意識を持つ顧客・消費者・パートナー、企業とのグローバルな共創機会を設ける。

2.技術ではなく人間、結合ではなく綜合
ハード、ソフト、サービス/ビジネスの三位一体。技術革新ではなく、人間集団が起こすイノベーション・バイ・デザインと心得る。

3.無名の質をデザインする
知識創造の方法論やパタン・ランゲージなど、独自の知識デザインの方法論を共有する。

4.エコキャピタルの重視
自然資本と知識資本で繁栄する。

5.真摯さ
社会的・客観的な次元での感情的な思考・行為を経営理念に求めたり組織活動の基盤とする（良いモノづくりが心の回復に繋がる）。

6.組織として豊かな知を有する
知的多様性の尊重、ダイバーシティの受容が組織の知識資産を豊かにする。

7.思いを持つ個人と、個のネットワークの力
チーム力、利他主義、その中での個の自己超越を推奨・啓蒙する組織を目指す。

8.伝統と文化
美学・哲学などリベラルアーツの重視、知の継承。

9.活発なコラボレーションとそうした環境
「場」（トピカ＝トポス）の創出、創造的な会話や評価の場。

10.可能性追求主義の戦略
多元主義に基づいて大所高所からのメリットを志向する生き方、非決定論的戦略。

ウェブカムの本気

まずはこれを観てほしい。

 

発想の勝利ってだけの話じゃなくて、もうなんだか、かっこよくて美しい。

相当大変だったと思うんですが、素晴らしいですね。こちらSOURというバンドのPVなんですが、気づいたらTechCrunchの記事でも取り上げられてます。

Yooouuutuuubeの映像もあわせて是非とも。お奨めです。

http://www.yooouuutuuube.com/v/?rows=15&cols=15&id=WfBlUQguvyw&startZoom=1

アナロ熊

まさか池田信夫blogで初音ミクとアナロ熊を視聴することになるとは思ってもみなかったなぁ。

 

Googleとクルーグマンの記事に挟まれてるアナロ熊が、なんとも哀愁漂ってていいですね。

でもこれ、池田さんが時々批判している2chとニコニコ動画から生まれた動画だっていうのも皮肉な話。

 まぁせっかくなので本家のニコニコ動画も合わせて。

【村上春樹スピーチ】常に卵の側に

村上春樹氏のエルサレム賞受賞でのスピーチ。

氏の才能と勇気と信念に、強く心を打たれました。

いつまでも忘れぬよう、署名記事の引用を残しておこう。

Always on the side of the egg

By Haruki Murakami

I have come to Jerusalem today as a novelist, which is to say as a professional spinner of lies. 

Of course, novelists are not the only ones who tell lies. Politicians do it, too, as we all know. Diplomats and military men tell their own kinds of lies on occasion, as do used car salesmen, butchers and builders. The lies of novelists differ from others, however, in that no one criticizes the novelist as immoral for telling them. Indeed, the bigger and better his lies and the more ingeniously he creates them, the more he is likely to be praised by the public and the critics. Why should that be? 

My answer would be this: Namely, that by telling skillful lies - which is to say, by making up fictions that appear to be true - the novelist can bring a truth out to a new location and shine a new light on it. In most cases, it is virtually impossible to grasp a truth in its original form and depict it accurately. This is why we try to grab its tail by luring the truth from its hiding place, transferring it to a fictional location, and replacing it with a fictional form. In order to accomplish this, however, we first have to clarify where the truth lies within us. This is an important qualification for making up good lies. 

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Today, however, I have no intention of lying. I will try to be as honest as I can. There are a few days in the year when I do not engage in telling lies, and today happens to be one of them. 

So let me tell you the truth. A fair number of people advised me not to come here to accept the Jerusalem Prize. Some even warned me they would instigate a boycott of my books if I came. 

The reason for this, of course, was the fierce battle that was raging in Gaza. The UN reported that more than a thousand people had lost their lives in the blockaded Gaza City, many of them unarmed citizens - children and old people. 

Any number of times after receiving notice of the award, I asked myself whether traveling to Israel at a time like this and accepting a literary prize was the proper thing to do, whether this would create the impression that I supported one side in the conflict, that I endorsed the policies of a nation that chose to unleash its overwhelming military power. This is an impression, of course, that I would not wish to give. I do not approve of any war, and I do not support any nation. Neither, of course, do I wish to see my books subjected to a boycott. 

Finally, however, after careful consideration, I made up my mind to come here. One reason for my decision was that all too many people advised me not to do it. Perhaps, like many other novelists, I tend to do the exact opposite of what I am told. If people are telling me - and especially if they are warning me - "don't go there," "don't do that," I tend to want to "go there" and "do that." It's in my nature, you might say, as a novelist. Novelists are a special breed. They cannot genuinely trust anything they have not seen with their own eyes or touched with their own hands. 

And that is why I am here. I chose to come here rather than stay away. I chose to see for myself rather than not to see. I chose to speak to you rather than to say nothing. 

This is not to say that I am here to deliver a political message. To make judgments about right and wrong is one of the novelist's most important duties, of course. 

It is left to each writer, however, to decide upon the form in which he or she will convey those judgments to others. I myself prefer to transform them into stories - stories that tend toward the surreal. Which is why I do not intend to stand before you today delivering a direct political message. 

Please do, however, allow me to deliver one very personal message. It is something that I always keep in mind while I am writing fiction. I have never gone so far as to write it on a piece of paper and paste it to the wall: Rather, it is carved into the wall of my mind, and it goes something like this: 

"Between a high, solid wall and an egg that breaks against it, I will always stand on the side of the egg." 

Yes, no matter how right the wall may be and how wrong the egg, I will stand with the egg. Someone else will have to decide what is right and what is wrong; perhaps time or history will decide. If there were a novelist who, for whatever reason, wrote works standing with the wall, of what value would such works be? 

What is the meaning of this metaphor? In some cases, it is all too simple and clear. Bombers and tanks and rockets and white phosphorus shells are that high, solid wall. The eggs are the unarmed civilians who are crushed and burned and shot by them. This is one meaning of the metaphor. 

This is not all, though. It carries a deeper meaning. Think of it this way. Each of us is, more or less, an egg. Each of us is a unique, irreplaceable soul enclosed in a fragile shell. This is true of me, and it is true of each of you. And each of us, to a greater or lesser degree, is confronting a high, solid wall. The wall has a name: It is The System. The System is supposed to protect us, but sometimes it takes on a life of its own, and then it begins to kill us and cause us to kill others - coldly, efficiently, systematically. 

I have only one reason to write novels, and that is to bring the dignity of the individual soul to the surface and shine a light upon it. The purpose of a story is to sound an alarm, to keep a light trained on The System in order to prevent it from tangling our souls in its web and demeaning them. I fully believe it is the novelist's job to keep trying to clarify the uniqueness of each individual soul by writing stories - stories of life and death, stories of love, stories that make people cry and quake with fear and shake with laughter. This is why we go on, day after day, concocting fictions with utter seriousness. 

My father died last year at the age of 90. He was a retired teacher and a part-time Buddhist priest. When he was in graduate school, he was drafted into the army and sent to fight in China. As a child born after the war, I used to see him every morning before breakfast offering up long, deeply-felt prayers at the Buddhist altar in our house. One time I asked him why he did this, and he told me he was praying for the people who had died in the war. 

He was praying for all the people who died, he said, both ally and enemy alike. Staring at his back as he knelt at the altar, I seemed to feel the shadow of death hovering around him. 

My father died, and with him he took his memories, memories that I can never know. But the presence of death that lurked about him remains in my own memory. It is one of the few things I carry on from him, and one of the most important. 

I have only one thing I hope to convey to you today. We are all human beings, individuals transcending nationality and race and religion, fragile eggs faced with a solid wall called The System. To all appearances, we have no hope of winning. The wall is too high, too strong - and too cold. If we have any hope of victory at all, it will have to come from our believing in the utter uniqueness and irreplaceability of our own and others' souls and from the warmth we gain by joining souls together. 

Take a moment to think about this. Each of us possesses a tangible, living soul. The System has no such thing. We must not allow The System to exploit us. We must not allow The System to take on a life of its own. The System did not make us: We made The System. 

That is all I have to say to you. 

I am grateful to have been awarded the Jerusalem Prize. I am grateful that my books are being read by people in many parts of the world. And I am glad to have had the opportunity to speak to you here today.

蜷川実花展と公益法人の財務諸表

デスク周りを整理していたら、先日行ってきた蜷川実花展 のチケットが出てきた。
展覧会はとてもすばらしく、「地上の花、天井の色」というタイトルそのままに、まさに色鮮やかな花に囲まれた別世界といった印象を受けました。

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　NINAGAWA WOMAN

東京オペラシティのアートギャラリーには何度か行ったことがあるけど、常設展示はしてなかったような・・・
気になったので運営元の東京オペラシティ文化財団のサイトを見てみると、情報公開されていました。
http://www.disclo-koeki.org/02a/00107/index.html

常設展はなくとも、やはり所蔵品はたくさんありました。これによると『アートギャラリー展示用書画、７５５点』となってます。
そして貸借対照表の固定資産の部に、『書画等』という勘定科目で1,127,475,590円と記されてます。11億円、なかなかの金額ですね。
ついでに見てみると、資産運用の為でしょう、国債を5億円分ほど保有しているようです。ちなみに満期保有目的債権の評価方法は償却原価法(定額法)でなされていますね。

それにしても、収支計算書によれば収入の半分以上が協賛金によるものであるという現実。このご時世、美術館等の館長さん達は日々、スポンサー探しに奔走されているのでしょうか・・・

芸術・文化にはお金がかかるんですね。