Category: All Things Japanese

So. Many. Museums.

As you may have guessed from the missing posts, I’ve been busy the last week, and things will stay this way for a while. This year the pace is picking up, I am receiving more and more invitations to press previews for upcoming exhibitions.

Last Friday was the preview for “The Legend of Sesshu”, a 15th century Japanese painter whose style has influenced many other painters through the Edo period and beyond. One of his paintings of Mt. Fuji was so groundbreaking that it served as a model after which many other painters created their own views of Fuji. No fewer than six of his paintings are National Treasures, more than of any other painter in Japan – and they are all in Kyoto right now for the exhibition at the Kyoto National Museum.

My personal favourite of the entire exhibition was this ink painting titled “Winter Landscape” from 1470. It’s hard to describe what I feel when I see it, and while I’m not a painter myself, I do understand on a very visceral level that it’s a masterpiece.

As I said, things are picking up; tomorrow I will go to a preview for Bijinga (paintings of beautiful women) and next week there will be Japanese combs and hair ornaments. I love my job!

Yozakura 2024

It appears that last Wednesday I spoke too early about hanami being over. The rain did not appear in the force expected, indeed, we’ve had some fairly nice days. Nice enough for me to go out on Friday evening for some yozakura – illuminated cherry trees – in the Botanical Gardens.

Here are some photos I took (without a tripod). My favourite sakura this time around are those that have pink and white blossoms on one tree. Who’d have thought!

Death in Midsummer

Death in Midsummer and Other Stories
Yukio Mishima

Nine stories of various lengths are collected here, plus Dojoji, one of Mishima’s modern Noh plays. The stories that stood out to me are:

  • The Priest of Shiga Temple and His Love
    Heian period. And old, saintly priest catches a glimpse of the Great Imperial Concubine of Kyogoku. He immediately becomes infatuated with her and experiences once again feelings he had long thought conquered. He believes that all he needs to cure himself is a single meeting with her…
  • Onnagata
    We delve behind the kabuki stage and see the actor Mangiku through the eyes of his assistant Masuyama. Mangiku is an onnagata who specializes in female roles, and like many a drag queen, he is more attractive than a women. But what does Masuyama see in Mangiku?
  • Patriotism
    Just after the February 26th Incident, a young lieutenant of the Imperial troops is shocked to find that his closes colleagues are implicated in the mutiny. Worried that they might meet on opposite sides on the battlefield, he prepares for his ritual suicide – and his wife of six months with him.

Yukio Mishima is a fantastic writer, and even in translation, he creates images in the reader’s mind that put him directly next to the protagonist of the story. “Next to” is important here, because I feel that Mishima stays on the outside of his characters, a mere observer who doesn’t get emotionally invested. Whether this is by conscious choice or due to his own character, I do not know, it’s definitely not because of a lack of talent.

While Mishima is unequivocally lauded as exceptional author, as a person, he is more controversial, at least in Japan. The story “Patriotism” can be seen as a foreshadowing of Mishima’s own death: The staunch nationalist committed ritual suicide in 1975 after a failed attempt at a coup d’etat.

Discover more Mishima with this book from amazon.

Kyoto’s Sanjo Dori and its Buildings

When thinking of Japan’s most modern cities, Kyoto is probably not on anyone’s list. And it’s true, once you leave the futuristic station building (the second largest in Japan, btw.) and lose sight of the candle-shaped Kyoto Tower, the city’s narrow streets lined with wooden houses and dotted with Jisho shrines give off a lovable, but somewhat old-fashioned vibe.

Things were very different 120 years ago, though. After the Meiji Restoration, when the Emperor and his new government took residence in Tokyo, Kyoto’s citizens made a concerted effort to keep the city from sliding into obscurity. Japan’s first railroad connected the old and new capital, the Lake Biwa Canal furnished electricity for the brand-new city tram, and a number of Western-style buildings gave Kyoto a distinctly modern look.

To this day, many of these buildings survive in Kyoto’s inner city, especially along Sanjo dori between Teramachi and Karasuma. Take a closer look at the former main street of Kyoto the next time when you’re out shopping and discover these beautiful, not-so-hidden gems.

Let’s take a walk on Sanjo dori westwards from Teramachi. Already at the next corner, you’ll find the 1928 building, so named after its year of construction. Then, it was home to the Kyoto branch of Osaka Mainichi Newspaper, and some traces can still be found in the basement. There are lovely ArtDeco elements throughout the building, especially in the stairwells. Today it houses the GEAR theater and gallery spaces, as well as a restaurant/bar in the basement.

Walk further to the lovely Old Yabetoku Clock Shop with its three arches. This two-story house made with red bricks was built in 1890 for a dealer in watches and precious metals. Sadly, the clocks are gone in favor of clothing, but the building is an important cultural property of Japan.

Directly at the opposite corner lies the SACRA Building, formerly the Kyoto branch of the Fudo Chokin Bank. Built in 1916, it still has the heavy wooden doors and staircase it was originally fitted with. Thanks to the many shops inside, a close-up look is possible.

Two large red brick buildings stand on the second to last block before Karasuma, and they look so similar they could be twins.

The first is the Annex of the Museum of Kyoto, built in 1903 as the Kyoto branch of the Bank of Japan. The inside has been lovingly restored to its former glory: A huge single room with high ceiling and the old wood trimmings of the bank still exudes riches. It was turned into a museum in 1967, and the former vault in what is now the museum’s inner courtyard secures a branch of Maeda Coffee.

Finally, there is the Nakagyo-ku Post Office, another red brick building, built in 1902. This is the only building mentioned here that is still used for its original purpose. It narrowly escaped demolition in the 1970s, thanks to the engagement of the locals.

Many more of these modern buildings from the turn of the century survive in Kyoto, like the Kyocera Museum and other buildings in Okazaki, Kyoto National Museum and Kyoto City Hall, the Restaurant Yaomasa at Shijo Bridge, the old Fucho Prefectural Government building, the old campus of Doshisha University just north of the Gosho… It’s really worth taking the time and looking around a little to find these delightful little gems.

Bullet Train

Bullet Train
Kotaro Isaka

The Hayate Shinkasen leaves Tokyo for Morioka. A number of extraordinary people are on board, they are all dangerous – and on a mission:
Nanao must steal a suitcase and get off at the next station, but he isn’t the world’s unluckiest assassin for nothing…
Kimura is bent on revenge, but his target, known as The Prince, manages to turn the tables…
Lemon and Tangerine have rescued the son of a crime boss and are supposed to accompany him home, but when the boy winds up dead, they instead must find the killer before they arrive, if he’s still on board…

And while the train makes its way up north, these passengers’ goals become intertwined, and in the end, it’s all about who’s the last one standing.

Talk about a fast-paced thriller – no pun intended! I finished the book within a day. There is no ounce of fat in the narrative, every person, every thing that is introduced has its role to play at some later point. That means, you’ll need to pay attention throughout, but this never becomes tedious or annoying.

Interestingly, although all five main characters were decidedly bad people that I would go out of my way to avoid, I found myself rooting for one – and absolutely despising another.

If I had to quibble about something, it would be the introduction of two new characters close to the end, it felt too much of a “deus ex machina” to me. However, since they brought the story to a nice close and dealt beautifully with my least favourite bad boy, I will forgive the author for doing so.

Kotaro Isaka, born 1971, is a Japanese author of mystery fiction. He studied law at Tohoku University and after graduation worked as a systems engineer. His debut novel won the 2000 Shincho Mystery Club Prize and Isaka became a full time writer afterwards. He writes novels, short stories and manga, and 12 of his books have been adopted for film or TV so far. This particular thriller even made it to Hollywood and Brad Pitt.

It seems that the film has “adapted” the novel quite a bit – the train now goes into the opposite direction to Kyoto, for example – so if you’d like to read the original,you can get it from amazon.

I’m a Winner!

2024 is starting out very positively indeed! Just like two years ago, I won the nengajo lottery. When I saw that I had won another set of stamps, I was hoping for dragons. I love dragons! Well, not quite, this year we got:

To be perfectly honest, I’m not sure how this is called, it’s a bundle of ribbons or pieces of cloth or possibly tenugui. However, this is a very traditional design and can be found in many versions on many a kimono.

Edit: Thanks to my knowledgeable Japanese friends, I now know that this is called a noshi. Traditionally, this was a strip of dried abalone attached to a gift as decoration and to symbolize longevity. Today, the custom has changed to thin, colorful paper strings that are tied around a gift or an envelope with money in it for weddings or funerals.

My Favourite Dragons

2024 is the Year of the Dragon in Japan (all over Asia, actually), and dragons are a popular motif in Japanese art. They have a special connection to Zen temples, where dragons are often depicted on the ceilings of their main halls. Since they are considered to live in water, placing their image there is a prayer for protection from fires (not very successfully, as history shows). Dragons are also thought to protect the Buddhist Dharma and to keep a watchful eye over the priests and congregation below them.

My favourite dragon painting is that of Kennin-ji, the oldest Zen temple in Kyoto, founded in 1202. In contrast, the painting was only created in 2000, so it has a very vibrant and modern feel to it and provides a stark contrast to the old temple hall. Here it is:

It’s actually two dragons intertwined instead of only one; one of them with mouth closed, the other one with mouth open, reminiscent of the guardian lions that can be found at many temple and even shrine entrances. They seem to fight over one single ball of treasure, which one of them holds proudly in a 5-clawed paw, something that is rare in Japan. Most dragon paintings here have only 4 or even just 3 claws, the use of the 5-clawed dragon was reserved for the Chinese emperor.

Anyway, the painting is stunning and whenever I go there, I spend some time sitting down and following the bodies of the dragons, trying to find all the parts and figuring out to which dragon they belong. Sadly, Kennin-ji has become very touristy (I remember when I first visited it, there was nobody there), so it’s less peaceful than it once was 10 years ago.

Garden of Fine Arts

Today, I took advantage of the free admission to finally visit the “Garden of Fine Arts Kyoto”. It lies next to the Botanical Gardens on Kitayama Dori, which is probably the reason why there isn’t a single plant in sight…

Instead, it is an outdoors gallery on three underground levels, created with massive concrete slabs and pillars by architect Tadao Ando. It is home to eight large-scale ceramic reproductions of famous pieces, among them Michelangelo’s Last Judgement and Leonardo’s Last Supper. Because of the way the gallery has been set up, the art can be viewed from several levels and perspectives, giving new insights along the way (literally).

Throughout the place you can hear the gushing of water as it flows along walls into pools at the very bottom. You make your way down on gentle slopes and there are benches to sit and view the art pieces.

I’m not a fan of this kind of architecture, to be honest, and the Western art at least didn’t touch me either. I’m not sure why, maybe because the surroundings were so much different that what I’m used to. Also, there is the age of the reproductions to take into account, even though ceramic should be able to withstand quite some abuse. I couldn’t find anything definite, but apparently the gallery opened in the 1990s.

I did like the Choju Jinbutsu Giga, a long scroll from the 12th/13th century depicting frolicking animals; it is often called the first Japanese manga. Because these tiles lie under the walkways, they seem to be in better condition and that you can get really close is definitely a plus.

Overall, I’m not sure if I can recommend the Garden of Fine Arts. If you like Tadao Ando’s work, do check it out, it’s currently only 100 yen to view it. If you’re not into grey concrete slabs, you won’t miss much if you pass.

Shunga

Shunga – Erotic Art in Japan
Rosina Buckland

Shunga, “spring pictures”, are erotic images from Japan – mainly woodblock prints, but also paintings – that had their heyday during the Edo period (1603 – 1868). They depict all forms of love-making among the ordinary people from Japan’s urban centers who were also the main audience for these images. Shunga live not only by their stylized depictions of sex – greatly enlarged genitals, clothing or hairstyles that indicate the status of the portrayed persons – but also by their lively commentary that is included in the picture and lets the viewer listen to the conversation of the couple.

This large-scale book presents a history of shunga in the Edo period while explaining the meaning behind the illustrations that are given. It also lists a number of famous ukiyo-e artists who have produced shunga at some point (or throughout) their career, like Harunobu, Hokusai, Utamaro, and others. It provides a deeper insight into shunga that goes beyond the erotic aspect. The accompanying 140 illustrations are beautifully reproduced pieces taken mostly from the British Museum’s collection. The famous Hokusai print with the woman and the octopus is included, of course.

I enjoyed learning about shunga. It is interesting that the vast majority of these images deal with consensual sex, and when prostitutes are depicted, they are always involved in a clandestine meeting with their secret lover instead of a client. In general, satisfying the woman seems to have been very important in real life too, and female sensual bliss is indicated by her curled toes in the images.

Rosina Buckland is currently the curator of the Japanese collections of the British Museum.

Whether you’re interested in the images or the historical background of shunga, this book is worth it either way. Get it from amazon.

Kawai Kanjiro

Since its founding, Kyoto has been a hotbed for artists and craftspeople, and not even the move of the government to Tokyo could change that. While Kyoto’s number one craft remains the textile industry, numerous other artists have found a welcoming home here.

One of these was Kawai Kanjiro, one of the best-known ceramic artists from Kyoto. Although, technically, he is not a Kyoto person, since he was born in Shimane prefecture and only moved to the city after graduating. However, he lived and worked the rest of his life in Kyoto’s Gojozaka area, where he established his pottery workshop and rose to international fame. But let’s start at the beginning of his career.

Already at age 16, Kanjiro decided to become a potter and started to pursue this career. After having graduated from the Department of Ceramic Industry of what is now known as the Tokyo Institute of Technology, he moved to Kyoto to study at the Ceramic Research Institute and there acquired the scientific, chemical basics of making pottery.

However, the purely academic-theoretical approach did not satisfy him, so he taught himself the use of natural glazes and traditional methods used in Japan, China, and Korea. When he was 30, he bought a climbing kiln – a noborigama – at Gojozaka and put his knowledge into action in what is now known as his first period.

Yet, he was still not satisfied and felt that something was missing. Together with Yanagi Soetsu and Hamada Shoji, he founded the Mingei movement, a kind of back-to-the-roots of Japanese folk art, complete with Folk Crafts Museum in Tokyo (established in 1936). This second period is marked by pieces that are reminiscent of Japanese folk art – not just in design, but also in technique.

At this time, Kanjiro also began to write poetry and essays and started to experiment with other forms of expression. After WWII, in what became his third period, he also taught himself wood carving techniques. A number of large-scale pieces survived and they are marked by a shift towards more abstract designs.

Although Kawai Kanjiro soon became well-known in Japan and even abroad, he was not interested in personal fame. He rarely signed his pieces, noting that his style should speak for itself; he also eschewed taking part in prize events. The two Grand Prix Prizes at international exhibitions he received were due to friends submitting his pieces. Kanjiro also declined many honors of the Japanese government, like being named a “Living National Treasure”, which is one of the highest distinctions for Japanese artists.

Kawai Kanjiro died in 1966, but his adopted heir Hirotsugu, as well as his nephew Takeichi and his son Toru continued the family tradition of mingei pottery.

The former residence and workshop of Kawai Kanjiro, located in the Gojozaka neighborhood, the traditional potter’s district of Kyoto, opened as a museum in 1973. It was designed and remodeled by Kawai Kanjiro himself in 1937 and differs from the many machiya merchant houses of Kyoto in important ways. First of all, it was modeled after classical rural cottages rather than urban town houses, additionally, it shows some Western influences. The large room near the entrance, for example, has a wooden floor on one side and slightly raised tatami on the other, with a traditional irori sunken hearth as the centerpiece.

The house is quite large, and most of the rooms are accessible. At the rear of the house lies Kawai’s workshop where he created his pottery together with his son and apprentices. Also preserved and accessible is the large noborigama climbing kiln that has eight chambers and was built on/into the slope behind the house.