H199 No Regrets for Our Youth

I'm Curious: What do we know about Director Kurosawa Akira?

(born March 23, 1910, Tokyo, Japan—died September 6, 1998, Tokyo) 

1936 Joined PCL Studios

1946 at age 36 Directed is 1st Postwar Feature Film

What Are Some of His Best known films?

A Reminder taken from the Syllabus:

c) We will be watching a number of Japanese films from or about the era, so they can also tell us much about how the screen writers, the directors and the audiences were experiencing postwar history both directly and indirectly;

A couple of points about No Regrets for Our Youth before we begin our screening because our purpose in watching this film is to understand "how the screen writers, the directors and the audiences were experiencing postwar history."

It is signalled to viewers very early on that two signficiant, "real" historical events are interlaced and brought to bear to frame the narrative:

Some salient points from a Film Review:

The Search for Self-Identity in the Postwar Films of Akira Kurosawa

No Regrets for Our Youth

adapted and supplemented from

Christian Fuchs November 26, 1996

http://www.s2f.com/cpfuchs/noregrets.html

The picture is [loosely] based on the forced resignation in 1933 of a professor at Kyoto University for his alleged Communistic thought. This is clearly articulated with onscreen declaration at the very beginning. Takigawa Yukitoki was the real professor's name; he goes by Yagihara-sensei in the film. [Interesting sidenote: the Minister of Education at the time of the Kyoto University Incident was Hatoyama Ichirô, grandfather of DPJ leader Hatoyama Yukio who recently resigned the prime ministership after his party's stunning victory over the perennial ruling political party in postwar Japan, the LDP.] The Peace Preservation Laws of 1925 and 1928 banned any words, actions or writing that urged the abolition of private property or the imperial regime. It provided the legal basis for the mass arrest of radicals by the police during the 1930s (Prince, p. 68).

The 1933 Kyoto University Incident caused a sensation among the nation's intellectuals, and one of the professor's students [Ozaki Hotsumi] was executed in 1944 for spying (Richie, p. 36). No Regrets for Our Youth is Yukie's story.

Plot Summary:

Yukie (Setsuko Hara) is the daughter of a college professor, Yagihara, (Denjirô Okochi) and in love with Noge (Susumu Fujita), one of her father's students. She is also friendly with another student, Itokawa (Akitake Kono). When her father loses his job as professor Yukie does not understand the full implications of the new Japan. Noge is obviously more progressive, more of a genuine leftist than is the "liberal" Professor Yagihara. The inability of the Kyoto University faculty and students to stand up to the Ministry of Education officials, the fascists and the militarists, pushes Noge and some of the other students toward "continuing the struggle" by dropping out of college and going underground. Presumably joining the communist party? It is not clear exactly what they are doing but they are definitely going beyond what the faculty and less committed studetns are doing!

Only when Noge is imprisoned does it begin to dawn on Yukie what kind of a world they are living in. When, out of boredom and a desire to learn more about life in the real world--and what it means to be really alive--she flees to Tokyo to work as a secretary, she runs into Itokawa who tells her Noge is also in Tokyo. She finally visits Noge, and they begin a passionate affair which ends with their arrest; Noge dies in jail and Yukie returns to Kyoto with her father. Yukie decides to return Noge's ashes to his parents and to live with them. She endures a great deal of hardship, both from his uncaring parents and neighbors, who harass the traitor's family. Despite the hardship, she endures and triumphs. After the war, she returns briefly to Kyoto, but realizes her life is with the peasants--who more or less symbolize "the people," and she returns to them.

Kurosawa not-so-subtly introduces the carefree characters of the beginning of the film to the harsh realities of an increasingly militaristic Japan by having the picnic of the opening scene interrupted by the sound of machine-gun fire. It disrupts their pleasant outing, especially when Yukie peers down into a young recruit undergoing training who is cowering and paralyzed by fear! Kurosawa also shows his clear disdain for those who plunged Japan into an impossible to win war by having one of the characters say, "Japan took Manchuria by force and colonized it." Even fifty years later Japanese leaders are reluctant to discuss the war in such frank terms, but Kurosawa stated it in a film just one year after the war's end.

Kurosawa uses editing to demonstrate the hectic activities of this time: the protests against the militarists organized by students and professors at universities in Kyoto. He mixes quick cuts and a variety of angles depicting scenes of the protests with scenes of the Education Minister and military leaders sharing a laugh on the golf course, followed by scenes of horses being used against the rioters and the rioters being hauled to jail. This montage makes it obvious that the student protesters are flirting with jail and expulsion; however, a scene of Itokawa at home being harangued by his mother depicts her appealing to his sense of duty to his family to stay in school. Japanese society places a heavy emphasis on on, a primary and ever-present indebtedness which one owes to Emperor, family, lord and teacher. It is not a monetary debt, but a debt of duty, of obligation. The repayment of on is absolute and unconditional (Ruth Benedict in Scheiner, p. 39-41) Unable to muster a strong enough sense of individual worth, Itokawa accedes to his mother's wishes and subverts his personal desires to please her and avoid bringing dishonor upon his family.

Several years later, Itokawa, now a prosecutor, visits the family. Itokawa, who has harbored feelings for Yukie, watches for her reaction as he announces he will bring Noge on his next visit. Yukie asks him not to, and while she is seriously considering marrying Itokawa, she says to him, "If I marry you, my life will be peaceful ... and forgive me for saying so, but it would be boring." "What about with Noge?" Itokawa asks. "If I marry him, my life would blaze so brightly I might be blinded. But it terrifies me."

Realizing there is nothing for her in quiet Kyoto, Yukie decides to leave home and move to Tokyo. Her father goes to her room to try to dissuade her as she packs. He asks her to think of her mother. Unlike Itokawa, Yukie is determined. She discards her "on" (one's obligations to parents and society) and decides to choose what she believes is best for her, not for her family. Yukie wants to start her life over again. A shot of Yukie catches her eyes gazing out, and as the panning camera follows her look we see a shot through her bedroom window.

"I am just so disgusted with everything. I want to start my life all over gain," Yukie tells her father as she looks out the window toward her future.

"Living out in the world is not as simple as you may think," says her father.

"But now, I am not even living," Yukie protests, "I want to go out into the world and see what it means to be alive."

In Kurosawa's late work, men and women alike are perceived as victims. Kurosawa has always accepted the bushidõ dichotomy - the choice between duty and love. To live is the motif of No Regrets for Our Youth, and it expresses in many of Kurosawa's films the necessity to choose between love between man and woman and love of humanity (Joan Mellen in Goodwin, p. 105).

Yukie yearns to discover if there is something more to her life than her family and the safe confines of their comfortable, home and bourgeois life. When Yukie learns Noge is in Tokyo, she decides to see him, and on the first visit to his office she goes all the way in. When an associate goes to get him from another room, fear of the future sets in and Yukie runs away. Returning again and again, she is always depicted standing on the street looking into the building where Noge works, afraid to see him, afraid of the future. Kurosawa shows the passage of time by offering a variety of weather visible in the scenes of Yukie standing on the street outside Noge's office. Finally, one day Noge runs into her as she is standing outside his office.

At their sidewalk meeting, she can tell he is holding some big secret close, but Noge will not share what it is with her. Similarly, Kurosawa never lets us know exactly what it is that Noge is working on. It is suggesgted he is at work on a solution to the "China Problem" that help Japan avert war. He may one day be seen as a true hero.

When they first meet in Tokyo, Yukie complains that she has changed jobs three times because her positions hold little meaning for her. they are just a way to put food on the table. She tells Noge that her father cautioned her that Freedom requires great struggles and sacrifices. "That's the kind of work I want." she says. "That won't be easy," replies Noge. "Who finds work like that even once in their lives?" When she begs him to tell the secret he is guarding, he dismisses her assumptions.

Yukie tries to warn Noge about Itokawa, wondering if Noge isn't taking a big risk working where he is. but he says: "Even iof a man were doing something here that might provoke the authorities...going underground wouldn't help. They wouldn't be stupid enough to lose track of him." So, Noge fully realizes how much he is at risk, that an arrest could come at anytime. "He could be arrested the next hour or the next day, but until then, he'll calmly keep doing whatever he can." At this point, we hear his voice but is body is just a shadow on the wall. She exists and leaves him in the darkness but he follows her out into the corridor.

Noge confesses he feared this would happen (they are acknowleging not only his secret life, but their love for each other). "The path before us is so steep." Yukie says she is fine with that (heiki, wa!) The screen darkens as the shot fades...

So, at first, she was fearing the dazzling fate that awaits her, but with their love for each other finally admitted, they are free to move in together. Wary of Noge's safety, she tries to find comfort in the words he utters when she asks him why he chooses the dangerous path: No regrets for my youth is his motto. Yukie will adopt it as her own when she moves to the peasant village, and this is where Kurosawa gets the name for his film.

Kurosawa spends several scenes -- without resorting to dialogue -- demonstrating that their time together is alternately joyous and sad. Remembering their 1933 picnic, they go on another, but Yukie runs off crying. At the cinema, Noge and the rest of the audience are laughing at the film playing, but Yukie is crying. She fears for him and his secret life.

After their arrest and during her interrogation, she stoically refuses to talk. The detective tells her to reconsider, and she is put into a cell to consider. The slow chimes of a clock give us a sense of the amount of time she is left alone to consider. Detectives talk to her again, and tell her Noge -- who had been trying to stop war -- wasted his time. A radio in the interrogation room broadcasts news of war with the United States and England as the camera gives us a shot of a calendar: December 8, 1941. (December 7th in the U.S.) In the end, Noge succumbs from the excesses of the interrogation and torture.

When Yukie decides to stay and live with Noge's parents, they do not trust her motives and think she is simply an upper-class woman from Kyoto come to make fun of and look down on them. As a shot of Yukie's sweat-drenched shirt is superimposed over a shot of her working in the fields, she repeats a mantra: I was Noge's wife. A sequence of shots let us know that she works many nights in the field. Yukie has begun her new life. Finally tiring of the nocturnal existence, she removes the barricades from the house and goes to work in the daylight. Noge's mother, who has still not accepted her presence, tries to stop her, but fails. Along the road to the fields, Yukie is taunted by children and gaped at by villagers. Kurosawa shows us the fear the peasants have for Yukie in these scenes, especially when a mother runs to the street to pull her child from the path of the approaching Yukie, as if her dishonor could affect the child. Yukie falls under the burden of a heavy pack on her back, and is laughed at by the villagers. Trying to rise, she falls twice more, and only manages to stand up when Noge's mother comes to her aid. They then go to work the fields together. As they work side by side, a voice-over of the spirit of the dead husband/son is heard saying, "No regrets in my life, no regrets whatsoever."

The honorable samurai's behavioral options included generous self-sacrifice, stoic perseverance and responsible consistency (Ikegami, p. 370-71). Honoring the spirit of her dead husband, Yukie resembles the old samurai as she continues to work despite illness and exhaustion; she is rewarded when she and Noge's mother look over the planted paddies. Their task is done. However, the villagers attempt to break Yukie's spirit: Kurosawa fills the screen with long and medium shots of devastated rice paddies, and close-ups of signs painted with the word traitor planted throughout the paddies. All of the rice plants have been ripped from the earth. She must start again. Rather than be destroyed by the outrage, Yukie exhibits a samurai's determination and begins to replant the paddies. Yukie must climb back down into the rice paddies and to scale a mountain of opposition. The price of this determined individualism is a profound loneliness that is the other side of individualism.

She is rescued from despair by her dedication to her dead husband's family and also to the broader community. Kurosawa defines human capabilities as open-ended and developing rather than sealed by sets of institutional and social roles. Human life is portrayed as potential (Prince, p. 117). Bushidõ, a term that came into common use during the Edo period (1600-1868), designated the ethical code of the ruling samurai class. It involved not only weapons and fighting skills, but also absolute loyalty to one's lord, devotion to duty and courage. (Kodansha, Vol. 1, p. 221) All the best qualities of the warrior have been spiritualized by Kurosawa in his art. The hero is always as strong as the ideal samurai. This strength may be physical, as in the samurai heroes of "Seven Samurai" ... but the protagonist may also be a person of ordinary or inferior physical capabilities, as is Yukie. Her great strength is spiritual rather than physical. Her will to create good is overwhelming, and this obsessive dedication, rather than any use of physical force, enables her to triumph (Prince, p. 118).

Yukie's dedication to her new life, her determination to complete the task of planting the fields, has led to her acceptance by Noge's parents despite their initial suspicion of her. That same dedication and determination also allows her to triumph over an old friend.

Itokawa visits and tries to convince Yukie to leave the peasants and return to her life in Kyoto, but her zeal for life makes him feel small. Itokawa asks to visit Noge's grave, but she forbids it and refuses to show him where it is. Time is a slow but fair judge, she tells him. Itokawa, who has always chosen the safe path, walks away in disgrace.

Again Kurosawa tweaks the militarists with a slate telling us

"The war is over. Freedom is restored."

Yukie's father is a professor again, and Yukie visits her family, but will not return and stay with them. I set down my roots in that village, she tells them. By disregarding the centuries-old obligation of on Yukie has chosen for herself a path leading to self-fulfillment and personal freedom. She now knows she can do whatever she chooses to do, the "blazing" future is hers to choose. At the same time, she has not become selfish. She embraces her new family and community, becoming an integral and accepted part of both. Through her own force of personality, Yukie has determined her destiny.

[P]eople are subject to what is called destiny. This destiny lies not so much in their environment or their position in life as within their individual personality as it adapts to that environment and that position.

 

Waga seishun ni kuinashi (1946) わが青春に悔なし

Setsuko Hara .... Yukie Yagihara
Susumu Fujita .... Ruykichi Noge
Denjiro Okochi .... Professor Yagihara
Haruko Sugimura .... Madame Noge
Eiko Miyoshi .... Madame Yagihara
Kokuten Kodo .... Mr. Noge
Akitake Kôno .... Itokawa
Takashi Shimura .... Police Commissioner Dokuichigo ['Poison Strawberry']
Taizô Fukami .... Minister of Education
Masao Shimizu .... Professor Hakozaki
Haruo Tanaka .... Student
Kazu Hikari .... Detective
Hisako Hara (II) .... Itokawa's Mother
Shin Takemura .... Prosecutor
Katao Kawasaki .... Servant

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Additional observations by Loftus:

It seems that a critical point in the film comes when Yukie has the conversation with her father in her room while she is hastily packing to leave home. She wants to leave Kyoto and go up to Tokyo. She is "bored" with life, she tells us. She is disgusted with her life; it lacks solidity, it lacks the excitement and adventure that might come from political engagement. She tells her father,

"I want to live. I want to start my life over again. I want to go out into the world and find out about life."

"The world is not a garden," he replies. "Life is not as simple as you may think."

"I feel like I am slowly dying. I am not living. I want to find meaning in life. I want to live."

This is Yukie's response. She wants to live, as the existentialists would say, with authenticity. She wants to do something real, something meaningful. As Yukie tells Noge later, when she sees him again after a 3-year hiatus, she has changed jobs three times since she came to Tokyo, because her jobs have just been a way to put food on her table. They meant little to her. "I want something, some work, into which I can throw my entire self, my body and my soul. That's the kind of work I want." Noge turns away mumbling that this is not an easy thing to find, although he knows that he has such work, work with a initiative that is seeking a way to find a peaceful solution to the "China Problem" so Japan could avert a tragic war.

For fans of Kurosawa's great film, Ikiru (To Live), one can see the genesis of some of the ideas about the need to find meaning and purpose in life which drive that film.

Back to Yukie's departure from her home, her father tells her that if she is determined, she must go. It is worth it. But, he cautions her,

"You have to take responsibility for your actions. Freedom is something you have to fight for. There will be difficult sacrifices and the heavy burden of responsibility. Remember that. Freedom requires sacrifice and struggle."

Is this the primary message Kurosawa wants his 1946 audience to think about, men and women alike? Democracy isn't just a matter of mouthing words or doing something trendy; it involves commitment and sacrifice. This, apparently, is they key to living a life with "no regrets."

In John Dower's Embracing Defeat, he writes about Maruyama Masao's notion of a "community of remorse" to characterize intellectuals who experienced "a joyous feeling of hope for the future mixed with deep regret for the past." (234) Perhaps Kurosawa was expressing his kinship if not membership in this kind of community of remorse because he titled his film "No Regrets," and has his character's reciting a mantra about wanting to live a life without regrets. But he and other intellectuals, artists and social activists must experience their fair share of regret for not being able to do more to stand up against the "fascists," to resist the push toward militarism, aggression and war. To stand up for freedom and liberty when things got rough, this was something very difficult; few Japanese managed to do it in the 1930s.

Kurosawa's central character is a woman, Yukie, who in the beginning is portrayed as a shallow, flightly, impulsive, spoiled bourgeois woman who eventually learns the hard way the lesson her father tried to teach her: freedom requires both sacrifice and responsibility. You have to be willing to take responsibility for your actions. The individual must be free and autonomous: an historical agent who can act for herself and for her community. But this freedom comes with a price: sacrifices must be made, hardships must be endured and there must be a serious struggle in order to achieve true, authentic freedom or democracy.

Dower also writes about the role of Marxism in shaping the postwar discourse on democracy and freedom. Kurosawa chose to base his story around a real historical incident in which a professor was drummed out of Kyoto Universisty for his supposedly Marxist views but he was really a moderate who wrote an article about Tolstoy's view of criminal law as seen in Resurrection. In the early part of the film, Noge is depicted as being considerably more left than Yukie's father, Professor Yagihara. Noge disparages the professors as naive and too easily duped. He speaks of the need to "struggle" and of going underground once the students and faculty are defeated by the Minister of Education and his businessmen allies in the zaibatsu.

But exactly to what ideology does Noge subscribe? Is it Marxism? Is he a member of the underground Japan Communist Party? The film leaves all this vague and undetermined.

In Tokyo, Noge is a staff member of the East Asia Problems Research Institute and, according to Itokawa, his work is relied on by businessmen and government policy makers. But he is apparently secretly pursuing another project which is a plan to peacefully resolve the China Incident so Japan did not have to continue to wage a war of aggression in China. But, again, we know little about this or with whom he might be working on this project. We only hear that ten years from now, the world will thank Noge and realize that he was a true hero and patriot.

And this happens as Professor Yagihara formally recognizes Noge when he returns to the university to resume his teaching duties. He hopes that there are many more Noges sitting out there in the audience listening to his sorrowful words of praise for this man who paid with his life for the freedoms that the end of the war restored. Japan needs more Noges, more men and women who live their lives with courage and determination and are willing to make the sacrifices that freedom requires.

(Kurosawa in Prince, p. 97)

ADDITIONAL NOTE: Film Studies scholar Mitsuhiro Yoshimoto has some strong reservations about whether the point of this film is really that "Yukie has chosen for herself a path leading to self-fulfillment and personal freedom." Many Japanese critics found the actress Hara Setsuko's protrayal of Yukie, while stunning and forceful, was too overwrought, "too eaggerated, distorted and unbalanced...[as well as] too peculiar and unrealistic," bordering on "hysteric, eccentric, or abnornal." We can see some of that, right? All her dramatic gestures and poses, the anguish, the tears, even her impetuousness. It's all a bit too melodramatic to be plausible for us 21st century American viewers!

But it is the ambiguity and Yukie's ambivalence at end of the film that really stands out to Yoshimoto. When she revists Mt. Yoshida where the students had their picnic back in the "shining," innocent days of their youth, Yukie is nostalgic, wistful. And in the final scene, when Yukie returns to her adopted villaage now a leader of the village's culture movement to live out her life with her in-laws and experience all the hardships and uncertainties of rural life, this is supposed to be her triumphant perhaps even joyous moment. "Yet," as Yoshimoto writes,"the last image of her face is so melancholic, and if not disturbing, extremely ambivalent....Yukie looks out of place and unhappy among the villagers. More than anything else in this film, I believe this image of Yukie's face registers Kurosawa's resistance to the Occupation's attempt to propagate their version of recent Japanese history." (134)

One might suppose that Kurosawa was more than happy to remind viewers of the destructive impact of the rise of a right wing, and of authoritariansm, which he at times calls Fascism--referencing the brutal suppression of the protests over the Takigawa Incident and the summoning up of the Ozaki espionage case--but, in the end, Kurosawa wanted to make his own film on his own terms. As we saw him say in the "Reinventing Japan" video, he loathed the prewar Japanese censors who only permitted depictions of loyalty and bravery in service to the emperor and his "sacred" cause. But nor did he care for Occupation authorities looking over his shoulder and forcing him to rewrite parts of the script and make the kind of film THEY thought was in the best interests of the Japanese viewing public. Dower pointed out the hypocrisy of the Occupation preaching freedom, independence and democracy, on the one hand, but telling the Japanese what they could and could not do, basically replacing prewar censorship with a version of their own.

 

See also http://www.edogawa-u.ac.jp/~robert/kurop05.html#top

See this excerpt from Kurosawa's autobiography as well:

SOMETHING LIKE AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY

No Regrets for Our Youth

THE TITLE OF my first post-war film became a popular phrase. After the release, one frequently
came across the usage "no regrets for our ------" in the newspapers and other media. But for me
personally the feeling is the opposite; I have many regrets about this movie. The reason is that
the script was rewritten against my will.

This film was born amid the two great union strikes at the Toho studios. The first Toho dispute took
place in February of 1946, and the second in October of the same year. NO REGRETS FOR OUR
YOUTH was produced during the seven months between the two outbreaks. As a result of the victory
of the first strike, the Toho employees' union became very powerful, and the number of Communist
Party members among the employees increased. Their voice in matters of film production became
more important than before, and a Scenario Review Committee was formed. This committee
decided that the script for NO REGRETS required changes, and the film was shot from a rewrite. The
reason was not because of any offense found in the content of my script, but because another
script based on similar material had also been submitted to the committee. I felt, however, that although the two scripts were based on similar material, they treated it in entirely different ways.

The result, I was sure, would be two entirely different films. Anyway, this is what I said before the Review Committee, but my opinion was rejected.

When the two films were completed, members of the Review Committee said to me, "You were
right. If we had known they would turn out like this, we would have let you shoot from your first
script." This was the height of irresponsibility. Playwright Hisaita Eijiro's first script for my film was
such a beautiful piece of work that it still pains me to remember that it was shelved at the hands of
such thoughtless people.

The second draft of the script for NO REGRETS was a forced rewrite of the story, so it became
somewhat distorted. This shows in the last twenty minutes of the film. But my intention was to
gamble everything on that last twenty minutes. I poured a feverish energy into those two thousand
feet and close to two hundred shots of film. All of the rage I felt toward the Scenario Review
Committee went into those final images.

When I had completed the film, I was so agitated and exhausted I couldn't evaluate it with a cool
head. But I was convinced that I must have made something very strange. The company arranged
a screening for the American censors. They sat talking among themselves while it was being shown,
so I was all the more certain that I had failed. But then as the film went into its last twenty minutes
a hush fell over the group, and they began to gaze at the screen with deep concentration. They
looked as if they were holding their breath right up until the end title appeared on the screen.
When the lights came on, they all stood up at once and reached out to shake hands with me. They
praised the film to the skies and congratulated me warmly, but I just stood there amazed.
It wasn't until after I left them that I really began to feel that the film had succeeded.

from: http://www.pbs.org/wnet/gperf/shows/kurosawa/noregrets.html

See Vicent Canby's discussion from the NYT:

Because of the passage of time, the Kurosawa movie operates on several levels that didn't exist at the time it was produced. There's not a frame of this film that is not informed by our awareness of the body of work that the then comparatively young (36) director would go on to create. Then, too, one is acutely conscious of the conditions under which ''No Regrets for Our Youth'' was made.

In 1946, the Japanese film industry was under the close scrutiny of the American military occupation forces and, like Japan itself, was struggling to make some sense of the catastrophic war that had just been lost and to find some psychological as well as economic identity.

The story of ''No Regrets for Our Youth'' is just the sort of thing that would have appealed to the people at the Allied headquarters in Tokyo (who were so fearful of militarism that even samurai films were discouraged). Its subject is the struggle of a small group of freedomloving intellectuals against the fascist militarists who led Japan into Manchuria and China in the 30's and finally into war with the United States in 1941.

To Japanese critics and audiences in 1946, ''No Regrets for Our Youth'' might well have looked like hindsight of the most opportunistic sort. Yet the film's continuing impact says more about the force of the Kurosawa talent than it does about the film's politics, which could have been learned at Stanley Kramer's knee. The performances are rather simple and uncomplicated, unlike the film itself, which, in telling a heroic story, also manages to raise some disturbing questions about the nature of a democracy imported from the West along with swing music, short skirts and Coca-Cola.

This is not to underrate the drama, which is principally about the emotional liberation of one pretty, spoiled young woman, but to emphasize that Mr. Kurosawa is incapable of making anything as simple as a straight propaganda film.

http://movies.nytimes.com/movie/review?res=9E00E1DE1538F935A35755C0A96694826

From the Criterion Collection materials: