Japanese

Issue 1, Spring 2024 – Photography & Interview

Department H

Joshua Gordon

Gogh Imazumi

Interview: Lisa Tanimura

On the first Saturday night of every month, as the clock ticks past the last train and tranquillity descends upon the city, a long queue forms outside Uguisudani Station. The queue exudes an unusual ambiance even in the heart of Tokyo, with some individuals donning 20 cm high heels while others wear vibrant-coloured wigs. They are all drawn into the "hentai (pervert) party," Department H, hosted at the Tokyo Kinema Club, a lavish venue formerly renowned as a grand cabaret. Once you step inside, you’ll find the chaos of people who have liberated themselves from the constraints of everyday existence. 

Touted as a "communication salon for those adverse to drinking or dancing," the party draws in a diverse crowd encompassing drag queens, BDSM and body modification enthusiasts, maskers, and dollars, as well as people with unique fetishes and unnameable desires–all united under the shared banner of “hentai (perversity).” We spoke to Gogh Imaizumi, the 30-year veteran organiser of Department H and illustrator renowned for his American Comics style.


What motivated you to start Department H (Dept. H) in the first place?

During the early '90s, clubs had just arrived in Japan, with discos still holding greater value amongst people. I needed to familiarise myself with the emerging club scene, so I frequented places resembling discos, yet I felt out of place and uncomfortable.

Then I went to New York, where I discovered Susanna Birch's parties. When I went to her party, I realised I wanted this kind of party. I thought it would be great if there were a similar space in Tokyo, so upon returning to Japan, though I knew that it would be impossible to recreate her parties, I tried to organise some similar events to the extent I could.


What inspired you to go to New York?

At the time, I was working as an animator at Toei Films. I failed my university entrance exams, and my parents told me to get a job. When I thought about what I would do, I thought I could do a job involving drawing. But I couldn't just start drawing, so I thought animation would be a good place to start. I had watched a lot of animation, so I thought I knew a bit about it. That’s why I knocked on the door of an animation company and became an animator. I worked at Toei Films for about ten years after that. Back then, Toei was also subcontracting American animation, and I preferred that, so I worked as a staff there.

But around 30, I embarked on a journey of self-discovery to New York. The reason why I went to New York was because Marvel Comics was in New York. Marvel heroes like Spider-Man, Fantastic Four, and Doctor Strange live in New York. So, for me, New York was my own Disneyland.


What inspired you to go to Susanna Birch's party?

I decided to party hard while in New York, so I spent around six months exploring all the city's clubs, live music venues, and strip joints. I think I ticked everything off the list during that period.


What did you do after you came back to Japan?

I rejoined Toei Films again for a brief period, but then the American animation production stopped, and there was nothing more I wanted to do, so I quit. Subsequently, I became a freelance illustrator, but it was impossible to live solely through illustration immediately, so I took on a part-time editor job for about a year and a half. When I was able to make a living from doing illustrations alone, I quit the part-time job.


That was around the time you organised the first Dept. H. What was the first party like?

People often ask me about it, but I don't really remember. Organising parties is like doing traffic control, so I only remember doing that when the morning came. Initially, the event was small; only about 70 people came. At first, the team was just Ume-chan, Sacchan, a DJ called Pod, and myself. We threw the first series of events at THE deep in Nogizaka, owned by Orui-san (Makoto Orui, who designed the Cult* logo). Orui-san was a luminary figure even back then. Ume-chan worked with Orui-san, so we hosted the event there. I never did anything special or got any work from him; when I saw Orui-san, I just bowed to him. At that time, he was already the chief designer of rockin’ on magazines and owned THE deep. THE deep was a gallery during the day, selling fetish photo books that Orui-san had bought in France. But it wasn't in use at night anyway, so people like us, who were running club events, used it here and there.


By the way, you mentioned that the artist Hanayo-san, a contributor to this magazine, has also performed there several times. Do you remember her?

She signed her name on the dressing room wall at Shibuya O-WEST (where the event used to be). I discovered it and told her not to leave until she removed it. She was surprised at my anger and didn't seem to be sorry, as if to say, “This is the culture.” Hanayo, a geisha, is more of a musician, while I, an American comic illustrator, am more Japanese.


Have you faced any obstacles in the course of organising this event?

The biggest obstacle was when Shibuya O-WEST stopped opening late at night. After that, we moved from one place to another until we settled at our current venue, Kinema Club. That was when the juvenile protection ordinance was passed, and we couldn't hold late-night events anymore. We had to take a break for a few months when we had to change venues.

Otherwise, have you always held the event every month?

Yes, we have.


It's incredible to think you've been doing this for 30 years. Have there been any other significant obstacles?

No, I don't think so. The current obstacle is that I'm now 60 years old, and it's getting harder and harder to stay up all night, but the law is always the biggest obstacle.


So, you obey the law?

Because it's less troublesome if you comply with the law, isn't it?


Whenever I go to Dept. H, I feel that it carries an underground feel, but I don't think that illegal things or drugs are everywhere or that it's dangerous.

I'm always saying that people shouldn’t take drugs there. Like, “If you do it here, it will cause a problem for everyone, so please don't do that.” Well, it’s like, you can be a punk, but if the punk can’t say hi to people they work with, they can’t get the next job, just like how if an outstanding illustrator doesn't keep to the schedule, they won't get the job.


What kind of management structure do you have now?

I and about five members of the public morals committee give warnings and mediate fights. Then there are cashiers, girls, timekeepers, DJs and (drag) queens. If we are to count them all as staff, it would be about 30 people, but it depends on how far you consider them as staff.


How long had Onan Spelmermaid, the MC, been involved with Dept. H?

I think Onan had been around for a while, maybe 20 years. At first, she was probably brought in by a queen called Hossie. When drag queen Margaret was there, she and Onan were doing the banter, so it had been long.


How do you decide on the booking of performances?

There are some things that I want to balance more. For example, even if I want to book the same number of male strip shows as female strip shows at Dept. H, there aren’t many boys who could do it. Some male strippers can strip or dance. But when it comes to boys who can strip, choreograph, and dance, there are very few of them. But if we don't push to increase them, there will always be a lack of balance, and only women will be consumed. In that sense, I would like to have as many male strippers as female strippers at Dept.H, but simply because no one can do it, it is difficult to make it happen.


So you take the gender balance into account when you book.

Yes, I think about it, but there are things I can and can't do because it isn’t possible if they aren't there in the first place. Also, it's better to have that balance. The police don’t watch us because we simply want to carry on. If we're doing something that looks like the sex industry or something that's in the same league as that, it means that the police will be watching us.


After all, you don't do anything illegal.

When you do something illegal in a big group, you'll cause trouble for other people, so if you prioritise continuing to do parties, that's what you have to do. I also don't feel much value in the so-called “dangerous,” although it's difficult to define what is “dangerous.” I think it should be enjoyed secretly, without involving others around you.

That's why we seem like we have something dangerous, but in reality, we have nothing of that nature. It looks thrilling when there are people in full-body rubber, but it's not a “bad” thing. Besides, the public moral committee is watching out for people, and it's not like there's an open show of full nudity. There's nothing to get arrested for. There are probably far more pick-ups and molestation in average clubs. Our pick-ups are like, "Excuse me, please step on me!".


Is it because when you know you are a pervert, you tend to be humbled?

Yes. The majority assume they are never wrong, but the minority assume we are, so it's a very different situation.


Do you feel that it is because you have always valued such things that you have been able to continue for so long?

That's one of the simple reasons and I'm also a bit dull. I'm dull, so I'm very resilient. Some organisers get fed up once the police get involved and quit, but I apologise and think, “Let’s just do it properly next time.” I'm not the type of person who gets mentally hurt, so that's why I can keep going.


You mentioned that you are dull, but do you ever feel lonely?

Not at all. If I have, it's only a memory of crying when I was hospitalised with a high fever in the second year of primary school. But other than that, no.


You have created a place where many people gather, but do you not have any desire to be with others?

I think that desire is probably not zero. But I can't do what I do if I meet people daily. If you go to a party and say hello to 100 friends once a month, you don't have to see anyone for a month. I think it's very efficient.


You don't meet anyone at all?

Well, not at all, but once a month is usually all I need. Then I can just be alone. It's impossible to make things if you're not alone. However, some things have to be done with others. Also, big things can only be created by a group of people, so I don't want to deny that. But I have countless piles of content that I need to digest, such as books I have yet to read or videos I have yet to see, so I like to make time for them.


Do you go out now?

Rarely.


Was there anyone in Dept. H, who you thought was particularly perverted?

Maybe the guy who pulled five pachinko balls out of his dick. The other amazing one was this naked girl with a kewpie doll hanging from her crotch. The kewpie doll had a string attached to it and a tampon on the end of it. And she was quite pretty. What was remarkable about that was that nobody went near her. Usually, if there's a naked girl, annoying people will surround her. But it was so bizarre that there was an empty circle around her. That was indescribably powerful. I think she had a unique and dangerous aura. I don't know if you can call it perverted, but she left a lasting impression.


What is your idea of pervertedness?

Men with full-body suit fetishes want to snuggle with women in full-body suits. But there aren’t many of such odd women. So the men snuggle with each other. It doesn’t matter to them if they are women as long as they are in full-body suits. When fetishism transcends gender, I think moments like that (is the definition of pervertedness).


Laugh*. Why do you think all these different people come to Dept. H?

It's difficult to say. I think half the people who go to clubs go there intending to meet people. I’m not entirely sure because I don't use dating apps, but with the advent of dating apps, clubs are no longer the place for picking up. So clubs are a thing from a previous era, and people like the last era gather there. But I think everyone has their preferences, so I don't think the clubs will disappear, but they will probably decrease.


I met someone at Dept.H who told me she is still alive because she wants to go to Dept.H every month. I think there are a lot of people who rely on Dept. H as their spiritual home, but is it because you feel a responsibility towards them that you have continued to hold the event every month?

No, not at all. It would be hard if I felt that kind of responsibility because I can’t be responsible for them. I don't have the capacity to take the thoughts and feelings of everyone who comes.


Then, what is the reason why you continue to do it?

It's because I want to keep my micro-media. For example, nowadays, Twitter (X) and blogs or things on the internet can represent that, but I am a pre-internet person. It could have been a wall newspaper, a magazine, or a free paper, but for me, it just happened to be a club party.


You said you don't feel responsible for the people who come, but what happens if they stop coming?

Then it would just disappear. Let’s say that there is a god. Its power source is the same as the number of followers, so a god with a large number of followers is the most powerful god, and a god with a small number of followers is almost as if it doesn't exist. Just like that, it is a matter of power source. The power source will be zero if no one comes to the party.


I see. Do you believe that god exists?

Of course not! That's ridiculous. That kind of thing is called anthropomorphism. But if there is, as I said before, the god's power is determined by the number of followers, so a god with fewer followers becomes weaker, and a god with more followers becomes stronger.


Is the Dept. H party itself like a kind of worshipped god?

Maybe so for those who worship it, but I am not good at being worshipped. Well, if you ask whether Dept. H and I are the same; some parts are the same, but I am just myself. For example, I've organised swing jazz events in the past. I thought that because I, Gogh Imaizumi of Dept. H, was doing it, some people would come, but no one showed up. Even if the same organiser does it, it doesn’t work if it is a different event. So, I think there might be some overlap between me and Dept. H, but it's not equal. Departement H is just Departement H.


Do you have any plans for the future of Dept. H?

I don't know about that at all. One day, I might get fed up with it and stop or force myself to continue. I don't have anything like this that I have to do. Maybe I had more of that ideal when I first started, but after almost 30 years of doing events and being an organiser, I don't know anymore. But I've always been better at sticking with something for a long time rather than doing something quickly and finishing it, so I'm sure it will contin