Last Saturday, I took some time out to visit the 3rd Kyoto Student’s Art Auction. I came across it through What’s up in Kyoto, and because there was one piece of art I really liked, and because everything was in English and Japanese, I decided to give it a try.

On Friday I went to see the exhibition of all 25 pieces made by 12 or 13 students from Kyoto’s Art Universities, and while my favourite looked even better in real life, there were two others that impressed me, so I filled out the form to register as a bidder, and then returned on Saturday afternoon.

This was my first auction, so I had no idea what to expect. I came early, was given documents along with my paddle and then was shown into the auction hall. There was a table with drinks (champagne, sake, and some non-alcoholic ones) and snacks (cheese, crackers and chocolates), and in the back the art was put up. The students were already there and ready to chat with the people who had come – including me, and it was great fun talking to them.

When the auction finally started, I was surprised at the formality of it. Everything started off with a short talk by the mayor of Kyoto and the rector of one of the universities. The auctioneer then took over, starting with a joke about how he had considered donning a suit, but how this would be unthinkable for an auctioneer in Japan, and he ended up wearing kimono and hakama (just like the mayor) as usual. We then got a short introduction on how to show our paddles, where the bidding would start (10.000 yen) and how much it would increase per bid (5.000 yen), how to pay, etc.

Upon finishing, he looked straight at me – the only foreigner in the room, clearly distinguishable by the red turtleneck sweater from all the guys in black suits – and asked: “Do you need English assistance?” As if I needed help embarrassing myself in public… Anyway, he said he would call in English and Japanese the pieces for which I was bidding so that was a good compromise.

When the bidding came to my favourite piece, it seemed that it was the favourite piece of many people. The very first moment, bids were up to 35.000 yen – and I had to pass, that was over my budget already. Besides, the person who finally bought it for 50.000 yen gave the impression that he would get it for any price. I bid for another one as well, but had to bow out there too, but the third piece I liked was mine – and for the minimum bid of 10.000 yen too!

After paying – and making everybody nervous with my foreign-ness – I could take it home immediately. I have already chosen where to hang it in my office, but I will leave it as a Christmas present for me. My first piece of “real” art. What do you think about it?

"Vortex" by Ismael Franco Alvarez

It’s called “Vortex”, and was made by Ismael Franco Alvarez with ink and pen on Maruman paper. It is very well done, when you try to follow any of the lines, the picture does suck you in – like into a vortex… Ismael is from Mexico and studies Japanese painting at Kyoto Saga University of Arts.

For more of his works, check out his instagram page: https://www.instagram.com/ismairu/

Writer in Kyoto!

All the way back in July, when I had fun selling chimaki at the Ofunehoko, I met two other foreigners working there. One of them suggested – upon hearing that I’m writing a blog – that I should become a member of the group Writers in Kyoto. This is nothing less (or more) than a group of (mostly) foreigners living and writing in Kyoto, often about Japanese topics.

Everything needs to be pondered thoroughly, but finally, last week, I did the deed (meaning: I paid the fees) and became a member of Writers in Kyoto. It’s about 45 people right now, and they are serious writers, with a large number of books, poems, blogs, newspaper articles, etc. published among them. To be very honest, I’m slightly intimidated, me with my little personal blog here complaining about the weather, compared to all them big shots… It’ll be fine I think, once I get to know some of them in person – so far I have only communicated with the head of the group per email.

logo of writers in KyotoAnd wouldn’t you believe it, I already got homework! Well, it’s a group of writers, so I should have guessed that sooner or later they would want me to write some thing or other. And, as makes for proper beginning in Japan, it’s supposed to be a self-introduction. I have promised it “by the end of this week”, and it will be published on their site that I have linked above. For all my fans of old here, don’t expect big news. I guess a heavily condensed version of my blog posts of the last 6 years will do nicely. For now.

Toni Toni

It was a wonderful day today, bright and sunny, just what I needed after a month of typhoon-induced rain! So I decided to take a bit of a time-out after my Japanese class and walk around the area a bit. And I went into the Toni Toni, the “Festival of the Ages Building” right next to Heian Shrine. It is a modern, steel reinforced concrete building with two storeys, but it looks like an old wooden house with white walls and dark wood beams and windows. It was built as a shopping mall and food court, and the location is well-chosen since there are barely any shops or restaurants in that area, and Heian Shrine is quite popular.

The building is brand new, it opened only last December, and I had been there two or three times before. But something felt out of place this time. There were hardly any customers around and some of the places I had noticed or shopped at before have already closed again, like the nice gyoza restaurant that would offer sake all day long… The whole feeling was rather sterile, unfortunately, and the prices for food were quite steep, which means that the rents for the shops must be outrageous.

I wonder how many people come to the place. Last time I was there, the guy from the gyoza shop complained that they would have to close already at 18:00, so no evening customers coming out of the theatre next door. And I know that many people visiting Heian Shrine come there with buses, I would guess that they have limited time for shopping, and definitely none for eating, even though takeout is possible.

And then again, maybe I just came at the wrong time. I was noon, where most bus tourists probably have lunch elsewhere. There are no big companies nearby whose employees would come for a quick bite. And there may be more tourists in the weekends too. Still, it appears that even in Kyoto, even in a very touristy spot like this, some things don’t work. Or at least: they will take quite some time to take off properly. Maybe things will be different by the time the 2020 Olympics come along?

Mount Hiei

After two days of stressful work, I decided to take today off. The plan was to take a walk along the Philosopher’s Path on my way home from Japanese class and to visit a few of the places I haven’t seen in a long time. However, this morning, my Japanese teacher cancelled unexpectedly and on short notice. And because I still felt like walking around somewhere outside, I decided on the spot to visit Mount Hiei.

Hieizan as it is called in Japanese, is the highest mountain among those that surround Kyoto; and it lies on the northeastern mountain range. It is 848.1 m high and marks the boundary between Kyoto and Shiga province. From there (although not from the same spot) one can see both Kyoto and Lake Biwa, and the views are beautiful. In the ancient times it was said that Mount Hiei would serve as a guardian for Kyoto and the imperial family. This is not just a fanciful saying: On top of the mountain lies Enryakuji, the headquarter of the Tendai sect, and from the founding of the temple in 788, its famous warrior monks have protected Kyoto in times of war and danger quite literally.

And Enryakuji is the main reason to visit Hieizan today. There are some hiking trails on the mountain and the Monet-inspired garden museum Hiei, but the top of the mountain is dominated by the temple. Or rather: the temples, because there are three different areas where several temple buildings are clustered together, and the whole is called Enryakuji, even though no single building has this name.

I did not know that there was so much walking involved, even within one of those areas. As this is a mountain, there are many, many stairs to climb and long paths between each temple. The silence and relative solitude on the mountain does make up for it though. And the temple buildings are beautiful! Many of them are very old, and they fit perfectly into their surroundings. I’ll just add a few of my photos below to give you an impression of the mountain.

EnryakujiEnryakujiEnryakuji ShakadoEnryakuji

Hagi Matsuri

Last weekend was the Hagi Matsuri (Bush clover Festival) at Nashinoki Shrine. Nashinoki Shrine is rather small and lies next to the Imperial Palace, and it is full of bush clovers. One thing that people do during this festival is to write short poems and tie them to the bush clovers of the shrine.

The main attraction throughout those days, however, are the performances of traditional Japanese arts. There are three performances per day, and they show different types of art – including martial arts.

I went there on Saturday afternoon with a friend, where we caught the last bit of the Iaido (sword drawing) performance. At the end, there was the cutting of reed mats, something that seems to be surprisingly difficult.

cutting reed matsThen we took part in a tea ceremony. It must have been my third or fourth, and still, I don’t know how the tea is prepared! There are so many other things I need to pay attention to during the ceremony – it is pretty hard to be a guest even.

I went again on Sunday morning for a kyogen performance where I understood a bit here and there, but not enough to get the whole picture. It was funny though, the facial expressions alone could make you laugh.

kyogen playAfterwards there was a short shakuhachi concert. I love the tone of the bamboo flute, and the first song that all three players did together, was my favourite. I am tempted to learn it myself eventually… But maybe I should finish my soroban degree first!

I did not return on Monday, the last day, so I missed the Japanese dance and the archery. However, it was fun to watch so many different traditional arts in such a short time span.

Monument of Gratitude

Memorial/tomb of KyodaiWhat do you think this is?

A tomb maybe?
It does look like one, and the sheer size of it (about two storeys high and with a diameter of perhaps two metres) would suggest a very important personality. But this is not on a graveyard, but in the middle of a standard residential neighborhood. Imperial tombs, the very old ones at least, are large and located all over the city, however, they have a distinct look that is very different from this here.

A memorial perhaps?
Could be, but there is a meadow around it with a stone fence, and it is not publicly accessible.

So, what could it be? memorial/tomb of Kyodai, closerIn fact, it is both a tomb and a memorial. It belongs to Kyoto University and is meant for the people who donated their body to science.

I am not sure whether this monument really hold physical remains – that is, a few bones of each person – like a normal Japanese tomb, or maybe just a list of names, or other things that are more symbolic. But just the fact that somebody took the time and effort to build something like that, does show an enormous amount of gratitude. It makes me happy.


When looking for events for the What’s up in Kyoto event calendar, I came across a tiny little exhibition in an old machiya in Kyoto. And because me and my English students all are interested in old houses, we went there this afternoon and had a look.

Yoko Hoshino ExhibitionIt was a tiny exhibition of only three pieces of furniture, made as a graduation project by a student of one of the local art universities. There was a large round floor lamp (made from very thin wood that let the light shine through just a little), a small round table with lacquerware and a large chaise longue type of chair (with cushions made from an old curtain. Really!). The motto of the exhibition was “Waiting for the Moon Life” and the designer played with light and shadows in the furniture and in the house itself.

The house was a machiya, some 100 years old, with a typical part in front, then an inner garden, and a tea room in the back, that belonged to the designer’s family. She said that she remembers coming here as a child when things were still a bit different, the house was gently remodeled in the 1970s, and sadly, a parking lot now replaces the front garden.We were allowed to see all ground floor and finally ended up sitting in the living room where we were chatting with a cup of tea.

What I found so interesting was the fact that she deliberately kept the lights off in all the house. The darkness indeed had a calming effect on all of us, and always surprising, the house was almost completely quiet, even though there was a big road with heavy traffic nearby. She said that Japanese houses were meant to be pretty dark inside, lit only by candles, and that this was the way she wanted to exhibit her work in the first place. Only now that she has done it this way, she feels her work is complete..

A fun thing was that she was talking about a book by Junichiro Tanizaki “In Praise of Shadows”, where he describes the influence on darkness and shadows on Japanese culture. Fun because this is the book I am reading right now! Small world, full of coincidences…

Break-up Stone

Yasui Konpira-gu is a rather small a shrine in Gion and large buildings encroach it on all sides. However small, it is very famous among people from Kyoto and elsewhere. Until recently, it had an ema museum, ema being wooden tablets on which worshippers write their wishes to the gods. Unfortunately, the building where the museum was located is very old and has been considered unsafe, so the museum is closed for the time being.

However nice the museum might have been, it was never the main attraction of Yasui Konpira-gu. That title goes to the enkiri / enmusubi ishi, a large stone (purportedly in the shape of an ema, but it’s hard to tell, really) with a round hole at its base. This stone is said to help break off bad, unhealthy relationships and form new, better ones instead.

break-up stoneThe procedure is simple: First you buy a slip of paper and write your wish on it. Then you position yourself at the stone and crawl through the hole. Going front to back means to break off a relationship. Going back to front expresses a wish for a new one. Many people do both; obviously you’ll have to end a relationship before you can start a new one (at least, that’s the clean way to go about it). Finally, you glue the paper to the stone and hope that your wishes will be granted.

By the way: this does not only work for romantic relationships, although most people probably visit the shrine for this reason. A friend of mine told me that some of the papers glued to the stone read like lines from a soap opera. “I want his wife to die” is probably one of the stronger requests. But many people come to break addictions to drugs or gambling, others want to find a more satisfying job, and cutting the “relationship” with an illness for oneself or a close person are very common wishes too… The possibilities are endless!

Kyo no Tanabata

I’m still busy with the website, sorry… So, this is just a very short post with a few pictures I took in the weekend at Kitano Tenmangu Shrine.

Kitano Tenmangu @Kyo no TanabataTogether with a friend I went there, because it is one of the places where there is an evening light-up for the current Kyo-no-Tanabata festival. The shrine was open and lit up until 21:00, and there were quite a number of people visiting. They also had a mitarashi purification – that’s the one where you wade through a cold stream – but my friend said that the mitarashi purification you do at Shimogamo Shrine and nowhere else. Indeed, this is the first year I hear of it taking place at Kitano Tenmangu. I guess it must be a really popular festival if it is being copied by other shrines… Kitano Tenmangu @ Kyo no TanabataAnyway, the shrine was beautifully lit up and everywhere were little bamboos where you could tie your wishes to. To be honest, I was a bit disappointed, because it looked a bit empty and haphazard. But then we went down to the momiji garden… This is a very quiet place that is indeed a bit lower than the rest of the shrine, the Tenjin river flows through and there are dozens of momiji maples. Of course, now is not the time to see momiji, but there were lights in different colors making the trees resemble the autumn colors. It was rather quiet down there, maybe people didn’t know about this place, so it was a nice stroll along the river.

Kitano Tenmangu @Kyo no Tanabata


Yesterday was the second yoiyama, the day (and night) before the second grand parade of Gion Matsuri. As I have mentioned last week, it was a very special yoiyama for me: I was invited to volunteer at the Ofunehoko, the large boat-shaped float that always ends the Ato Matsuri parade.

The boat shaped O-fune hoko ending the processionNow you’re probably wondering how I, as a foreigner (with very bad Japanese to boot) can help out at one of the most important Japanese festivals! Well… it was all really by accident… I am a member of the Miyakogusa, a volunteer organisation of Kyoto where people of all ages (mostly women of a certain age though) do a variety of activities: From visiting shrines and temples, to cleaning up the Imperial gardens, to presentations on Kyoto’s history, this is all volunteer driven and organised. How I got to be a member of this is an even more unbelievable story, I’ll tell it some other time.

Anyway, the leader of the Miyakogusa is a very energetic woman (!) and she seems to have many sundry connections and know everybody, including the people from the Ofunehoko, which has been restored only a few years ago. About a month ago or so I received a phone call from her where she invited me to take part this year. Of course, when Gion Matsuri calls, you don’t say no. And thus I ended up working yesterday, selling chimaki charms and books and little tenugui hand towels…

It was a very interesting experience. Two weeks ago there was an introductory meeting where we were explained the history of the Ofunehoko, little details to its size, weight, number of men to pull it… Then there were the practical things: How much was each item, where would we get lunch, where is a toilet for us volunteers… Everything was planned to the last dotted i – including what to say when selling something and asking for the money – actually, we were “giving” things to people, since “selling” is a dirty word when it comes to items blessed by the gods…

The level of detail that went into the planning made the whole thing yesterday run very smoothly. When I arrived at the spot, I was set up with two Japanese into one team – we were to do everything together and change stations regularly. There were three stations for us: The small northern and big southern tent, where we sold the chimaki and other things as well as entrance tickets; plus the entrance to the house, from where you could enter the Ofunehoko and take a look at the street from above.

Mostly the work was easy, there were hardly any foreigners requiring assistance, and the Japanese I talked to were easy to satisfy. Part of the smooth ride was surely that I took the morning shift from 10:00 to 16:00, I could see a sharp increase of visitors towards the end of my shift. Then especially the entrance to the house got busy: We were to take the shoes of each visitor, clip a number onto them and hand an identical number to them, so we could find their shoes on returning and give them back. The later the afternoon, the more people wanted to go upstairs, and even though they were only admitted in groups of 10, it sometimes became quite overwhelming when just as many came down the stairs also.

Anyway, I had great fun and I made a couple of new friends. Some of my old friends visited me at work as well, even though it was very hot. Unfortunately, we were not allowed to take pictures from the inside of the stalls, it would have been an interesting and rather unique view on Gion Matsuri! After 6 hours of standing only (there were seats but not enough for everybody) I was exhausted! Not so much from the heat – we had enough free drinks and cold patches to stick underneath your clothing – but because my feet hurt so much…

Fun incident: All of us volunteers had to wear yukata. It took me about 45 minutes to get dressed; first the spanx and the towels (long story), then the yukata itself, and then I needed 20 minutes just to put on the obi! By the time I was done, I was soaked in sweat – definitely a good start for the day! After all that work, I was mightily proud of myself, but obviously it was not good enough still. At some point, one of our yukata-wearing customers looked at me disapprovingly and said: Turn around! She then proceeded to pull hard on the back of my yukata – the part that reaches down below the obi, and after a few minutes, she was satisfied: the pulling had produced a better neckline in front – and in fact, other women passing by later did comment on this! Only in Japan…