Perfect Days and the Aesthetics of Everyday Life

An exploration of everyday aesthetics and the relationship between art and life, through the lens of Wim Wenders’s film, Perfect Days.



* This text originally published in Turkish on  "Unlimited" on April 30, 2024.
Bayraktar, Kerem Ozan. "Mükemmel Günler ve gündelik yaşam estetiği" [Perfect Days and the Aesthetics of Everyday Life]. unlimited, April 30, 2024.



While working on an article I had titled "The Art of Noticing," I had the opportunity to see Wim Wenders’s film Perfect Days—a work whose themes resonated perfectly with my own. My "opportunity," as it were, involved watching the film with a friend on a 13-inch laptop with a faulty speaker. Then again, we had long grown used to the line of dead pixels running through the center of the television I recently discarded. When we were lost in a film, the line would vanish from our perception. But at times, during scenes with bright, sweeping landscapes, it would merge with the horizon, and we would have to laugh. The stripe of broken pixels was a glitch that grounded us in our material reality, a defect pulling us back into the rhythm of the everyday.

Perfect Days, which earned Kōji Yakusho the Best Actor award at Cannes, chronicles the daily life of Hirayama, a public toilet cleaner in Shibuya, one of Tokyo's most affluent districts. As Hirayama methodically repeats his maintenance routines, we witness his deep passion for music, books, and trees. Though his days seem nearly identical, they are punctuated by small, unexpected moments that create emotional ripples. Hirayama is neither a wide-eyed optimist nor a detached Zen master.

Perfect Days, directed by Wim Wenders (Master Mind, Spoon, Wenders Images, 2023).


Unaware of social media or Spotify, Hirayama inhabits a fully analog world. To watch his unhurried existence is to be confronted with our own frenetic, anxious lives, which we often struggle to imbue with meaning. At least, that was my experience. Yet, Hirayama is not a judgmental figure. A man of few words, he remarks at one point, "The world is made up of many worlds. Some are connected, some are not," revealing a quiet acceptance of different ways of living. He consistently meets the passions of younger people with understanding, offering help when he can. We also see him encounter others who, in their own ways, share his mode of existence. In the theatrical dances of a homeless man in the park, for instance, we sense the potential for other worlds, each as rich as Hirayama’s own. The film, like much of Wenders's work, explores complex human states like alienation, inner journeys, and the search for belonging, while also touching on interactions across social classes. For the purposes of this essay, however, I will focus on the film as a gateway to the aesthetics of everyday life.

The Act of Cleaning Toilets

During a trip to Japan, one of the first things that struck me, as it does many visitors, was the sheer number of public toilets. To me, this signaled a deep commitment to civic welfare. In Japan, where collective life often takes precedence over the individual, the culture of co-existence operates under a different set of social rules. Their modest attire, their tendency not to take things personally, and the profound respect they afford each other’s space are immediately apparent. It took a long time to readjust after returning to Istanbul weeks later; I would often find myself agitated in public crowds. While I have no intention of glorifying Japanese culture—we hear of its darker, more rigid aspects as well—one cannot help but admire the meticulous care with which its people approach any task, including those widely scorned in other societies. As a result, everything they do, from pruning a tree to brewing tea, is elevated into an aesthetic act.

The film shows how this meticulousness permeates the most unexpected corners of daily life, transforming even the cleaning of a toilet into an aesthetic experience. The elaborate and well-maintained designs of the toilets themselves reflect the value placed on everyday pleasures. For many, the toilet is a place of disgust, a space defined by hygiene concerns and the meanings we attach to excrement. Yet it is an undeniable part of life. In this sense, cleaning a toilet is no different from tidying a bedroom. Just as the careful folding and arranging of laundry can become a source of pleasure, so too can the act of scrubbing a toilet bowl. There is a life-affirming quality to the practice of maintenance. When Hirayama uses a small mirror to inspect the underside of the toilet rim, he does so with the same diligence he applies to caring for his plants. He passes no judgment on the source of aesthetic experience. The film consistently plays with this boundary of disgust. Just as we begin to assume he neglects his own hygiene, we are shown a bath scene where he cleanses himself with the same thoroughness. The sandwich he eats in the park during his work break serves as a quiet reminder that defecation is as natural as eating. These more primal aspects of our being—eating, washing, sleeping, excreting—are what bind us to the world, reminding us of our bodies and our own impermanence.



Cleaning also carries significant social weight. It is often devalued as menial labor and entangled with sexist attitudes, particularly in the home where it is dismissed as "women's work." Artists like Mierle Laderman Ukeles have built their practice around such maintenance tasks precisely to challenge these hierarchies in the division of labor. As much as we believe we have moved past such roles, these biases persist. Some jobs are deemed inferior, reserved for certain social groups. This tension surfaces in the film during Hirayama's terse exchange with his sister. The pride and skill he brings to cleaning public toilets is therefore a powerful statement. It demonstrates that any job can be performed with artistry and sensitivity. By contrasting Hirayama's mastery with his young assistant's clumsy indifference, the film highlights the unique, self-possessed way he approaches his craft.



The Aesthetics of Everyday Life

The aesthetics of everyday life is a field of study focused on the aesthetic dimensions of our ordinary existence. Rather than concentrating on "high art" or exceptional natural beauty, it directs our attention to the aesthetic qualities embedded in common objects, routine activities, and the environments we inhabit daily, as so vividly captured in Perfect Days. The pragmatist philosopher John Dewey was pivotal in advancing the idea that aesthetic experience is not confined to art, but is rooted in the everyday interactions that shape our lives. He argued for a continuity of experience, where art both arises from and illuminates the qualities of daily life.

Other key figures have expanded this field. Yuriko Saito has explored the aesthetic qualities of mundane phenomena like the weather, the sky, and housework. Arnold Berleant introduced the concept of "aesthetic engagement" and emphasized its social dimensions, while Arto Haapala championed the value of appreciating the familiar within our daily routines. More recently, scholars like Katya Mandoki, Ben Highmore, and Thomas Leddy have broadened the discipline to include negative aesthetics, the role of popular culture, and the ethical and political implications of our aesthetic choices.

While the field acknowledges the value of appreciating art and nature, it insists that aesthetic experience is not limited to museums, concert halls, or sublime landscapes. As Tom Leddy puts it, the aesthetics of everyday life encompasses "all aesthetic experiences that fall outside the existing domains of aesthetic theory."

Defining the "Everyday"

Defining the "everyday" is a challenge. The daily life of a farmer in rural Anatolia is vastly different from that of an architect in Istanbul. Routines, habits, cultures, and professions create a diversity of experience that resists a single definition. Furthermore, the everyday is not static; its boundaries shift with our circumstances. International travel, once a routine possibility for some, may now feel like an extraordinary event. A more useful approach is to see everyday life as a spectrum of experience, from the mundane to the momentous.

At one end of this spectrum lie the activities we perform on autopilot, like brushing our teeth or commuting to work. We tend to push these actions into the background, where, as John Dewey noted, they become a form of "anesthesia." At the other end are events of heightened aesthetic awareness, like a concert or a wedding, which are intentionally structured to be special.

To define the everyday, we can also look at our attitude toward our experiences. The everyday attitude is typically pragmatic, focused on function and familiarity. As Yuriko Saito observes, this pragmatic lens causes us to overlook the aesthetic potential hidden in plain sight. Laundry, for instance, is usually seen as a chore. Yet, for some, the feel of clean fabric, the scent of fresh clothes, or the simple satisfaction of organization can be a source of pleasure. Moreover, as I've explored elsewhere, one can find aesthetic value in the systemic aspects of the task: the mechanics of the washing machine, the color patterns of clothes on a line, the geometry of folding. The common pastime of watching construction equipment is a perfect example of this.

Looking at the Ordinary

Traditional aesthetics tends to focus on the extraordinary: the beauty of art, the sublimity of nature, the thrill of the new. But aesthetic experience is not governed by fixed rules or objects; it is a matter of perception and engagement, constantly interwoven with our practical needs and interests. To turn toward the ordinary is to shift focus from the object to the experience itself. It requires not the manufacturing of profundity from simplicity, but an active attention to the details of daily life. In Perfect Days, we see this in countless moments: watching the play of sunlight as if it were a painting, observing the shifting shadows of trees, feeling the rain, noticing the actions of others, buying a coffee from a vending machine, watering a plant, photographing the same tree day after day.

This is not about finding "the little beauties in life" in a clichéd sense. In theory, anything can be a subject of aesthetic attention, including negative experiences. Familiarity can be comforting, but it can also feel monotonous. Yet even negative feelings contribute to our aesthetic richness. As Ben Highmore notes, a routine can be simultaneously joyful and boring, tender and infuriating. We don't experience our emotions in neat, separate compartments; happiness and sadness often coexist. Our aesthetic sensibilities are similarly complex and indivisible.

This kind of awareness requires practice. Our brains are wired to filter out the familiar and seek out novelty. It is therefore necessary to occasionally disengage the autopilot and consciously direct our attention. We don't need to exert much effort to be moved by a painting in a white-walled gallery or the powerful sound of a symphony orchestra. These frames are designed to command our attention. The aesthetics of the everyday, however, demands an active participant, not a passive spectator.

Aesthetics Needs No Art

Artists have often turned to everyday life to challenge traditional aesthetic conventions, a trend that intensified dramatically after the 1970s. Art can reshape our perception of the everyday, and the everyday is, in turn, a primary source for art. Yet, aesthetic experience does not require art. Aesthetics is not the exclusive domain of art. We don’t consider ourselves to be "making art" when we gaze at a mountain range, drive a car, or have a dream, yet these are all profoundly aesthetic experiences. There is no obligatory link between the two. The common misconception arises because art offers a concentrated dose of aesthetic experience. In truth, every experience is imbued with aesthetic potential, an intensity that cannot be attributed to objects alone. As a result, our expectations of art today have rightly expanded beyond the purely aesthetic.

Whether the aesthetics of our own daily lives becomes a source of satisfaction depends entirely on our perspective. The philosophers of the everyday offer guidance: to approach experience without prejudice; to notice and analyze a moment before rushing to judgment; to remember that knowledge shapes perception; to dissolve the boundary between the artificial and the natural; and to focus on processes and actions, not just objects.

This does not require a break from art. In the film, Hirayama’s music and photographs are woven seamlessly into the fabric of his life. He curates his cassettes and his images with care. Art persists as an organic part of his world, another field within his everyday aesthetic. Recognizing this continuity of experience, rather than focusing on isolated moments, is another powerful method. Blurring the frames between art and life can only enrich this continuity.

In a world saturated with spectacular, oversized projects disconnected from lived reality, cultivating this perspective reveals that aesthetics is not merely about beauty. It has deep roots that extend to matters of social justice. As Yuriko Saito reminds us, aesthetics is not a luxury but a fundamental dimension of human life. The perception of aesthetics as an "extra" is a fallacy that leads to its marginalization, a trend most visible in budget cuts for the arts and education. Aesthetics shapes society and improves our quality of life. To integrate it into our collective existence is therefore essential. We must recognize that aesthetics is inseparable from the rest of life, and vital to how we shape our world.

References


Berleant, Arnold. The Aesthetics of Environment. Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1992.

Berleant, Arnold. Art and Engagement. Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1991.

Berleant, Arnold. Living in the Landscape: Toward an Aesthetics of Environment. Lawrence: University Press of Kansas, 1997.

Dewey, John. Art as Experience. New York: Capricorn Press, 1958.

Haapala, Arto. "On the Aesthetics of the Everyday: Familiarity, Strangeness, and the Meaning of Place." In The Aesthetics of Everyday Life, edited by Andrew Light and Jonathan M. Smith, 39–55. New York: Columbia University Press, 2005.

Highmore, Ben. Everyday Life and Cultural Theory: An Introduction. London and New York: Routledge, 2002.

Highmore, Ben. Ordinary Lives: Studies in the Everyday. Oxon: Routledge, 2011.

Leddy, Thomas. The Extraordinary in the Ordinary: The Aesthetics of Everyday Life. Peterborough: Broadview Press, 2012.

Mandoki, Katya. Everyday Aesthetics: Prosaics, the Play of Culture and Social Identities. Aldershot: Ashgate, 2007.

Saito, Yuriko. Everyday Aesthetics. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007.

Saito, Yuriko. Aesthetics of the Familiar: Everyday Life and World-Making. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2017.