architecture – Page 3 – goinggaijin.com

Exhausted

I am very tired these days. I am busy looking for a new place to live and it proves to be very difficult indeed…

As I said, I would prefer to rent a house if possible, but all of the old houses I have seen so far are rather small and somewhat unpractical, and incredibly dark. There was this lovely old house I have been to, where the genkan, the front entrance, had three stepping-stones amidst a floor strewn with pebbles. I loved the house immediately. Unfortunately, the rest of the interior was not quite up to scratch… The top floor appeared to have been newly renovated, the two rooms were both very light and had an airy feel.

However, the ground floor… The kitchen was tiny, very old and could have used at least some cleaning, if not outright renovation. Ditto the bathroom. Given the amount of time I spend in the bathroom each day, I really don’t need one of those huge “oasis” kind of things that are so popular in the West these days. However, when I bow to spit during my toothbrushing, I prefer not to hit the wall opposite the wash basin with my behind. And I think it is a bonus if I can get to the shower without squeezing through the 30 cm that are left once the washing machine is in its place. If the bathroom had been in a better state, one might convince me to live with a Japanese squatting toilet though. I’m not a big fan of those – I still don’t know how to go “big” there – but if the rest of the house is okay, I’d just suck it up I guess.

It was not, however. The house was old enough to have a little garden in the back and a whole glass front between it and the adjacent living room – but still, the light from the garden did not even reach half of the living room, which was only six tatami, 12 square metres. Given my almost life-long intimate knowledge of depression, a dark place is something I definitely cannot live in. I certainly have no need to invite depression to follow me to Japan… Maybe, if the ground floor was renovated like the rooms upstairs, and painted with lighter colours, the house would actually be quite pleasant. But it’s not something I can wait for.

I have seen a number of apartments so far, and they are equally drab: rather dark and pretty small. I know now that the size of tatami must have changed over the years. I am quite sure that the six tatami from my room would not fit into any of the six tatami-rooms I have seen on my quest for a new place so far.

Anyway, I’m not giving up. Although it is exhausting, I will keep looking for that perfect place. You’ll hear from me when I find it.

Ears and Noses

The other day, when browsing Wikipedia, I came across a description of a place in Kyoto that I found most intriguing. It sounded so odd and interesting that I decided I needed to see it myself. This is it:

It is called the mimizuka, the Ear Mound – although at the time it was erected in 1597 it was called the hanazuka, the Mound of Noses. It is what the original name suggests: a tomb for noses, and the story behind it is rather… gruesome.

From 1592 through 1597, Hideyoshi TOYOTOMI – who, by the way, is enshrined in the Toyokuni shrine literally across the street – led an invasion of the Korean peninsula, with the intent to conquer first Korea, and ultimately, China. Wars in the 16th century were obviously not the clean “push-button-here” affairs that we can watch on TV now, and there were thousands of casualties, both on the battlefields and among civilians. At this time, soldiers were paid per kill, and one way to prove that was by taking the heads of the dead. By the second Japanese invasion in 1597, the custom had changed to take the more easily transportable noses of the victims instead, which were properly collected, counted, and then shipped to Japan as proof of the army’s efficiency. More than 200.000 heads and noses were taken during this time.

Interestingly, by the end of the invasion (which was unsuccessful, by the way), the noses were interred with proper ceremony in the hanazuka, and Buddhist priests were set to pray for the souls of the victims of the war. Only several decades later it was decided that the name hanazuka was too offensive and changed to mimizuka, but personally I don’t quite see the difference here, as the kanji for “ear” is still used.

Nowadays, it seems that many Japanese do not know about the significance of the mimizuka (there are a few others in other parts of Japan) and what the monument contains. Koreans do come to visit it, however, and there are even efforts being made to get the remains returned to Korea. Once again something I find rather odd – it’s 400 years ago after all, it is a nice and well-cared for monument, and there still seem to be regular ceremonies held there. But then again, what do I know…

Skytree

I am back from my trip to Tokyo, and I’m rather tired now. I got everything done and even had some free time to do some sightseeing. Tokyo is a very modern city, and instead of historically and interesting sights you have in Kyoto, you need to go into another direction to find interesting things to do in Tokyo. So, I chose the most modern sightseeing spot you can find Tokyo right now to spend a few hours there yesterday afternoon and early evening.

I went to and up (and then down again) the Skytree. Isn’t it fantastic: The Skytree was built over four years, and since its official opening on May 22, 2012, is the highest tower in the world, standing 634 m tall. Its main purpose is that of a broadcasting tower; it was built so high to avoid interferences from all the skyscrapers in Tokyo. And while they were pouring the concrete, they also built a shopping mall beneath it (of course), an aquarium, a planetarium,… The Skytree has two observation decks, the first one is called Tembo, where there are – actually on three floors (called 340th, 345th, and 350th floor) – a 360 degree view over Tokyo, a souvenir shop (of course) and a restaurant, as well as two cafés. Smaller attractions there are holes in the floor of the lowest deck, and very cool interactive maps of the surroundings where you can zoom in and out, change the view from day to night, and look at the history of the city.

From the Tembo observation deck you can take one of two elevators an extra 100 m up to what is called the Tembo galleria, a wonderful walkway that takes you up in a spiral to the highest point you can reach in the tower as a visitor: the so-called sorakaba point at 451.2 metres. Needless to say that this is exactly the spot to take a selfie… The galleria is very nice, especially if you like steel and glass, but I think it is only worth the extra 1000 YEN on a very fine day, because the view is the only thing you have up there. I am sure the view is spectacular – if it is clear enough, that is… Although it did not rain yesterday, it was very hazy, and once again, I could not see Mount Fuji.The tower became very crowded just before sunset, and Tokyo by night is indeed quite a sight! Once again, the whole experience is very organized: People leave and enter the tower and even the two decks on different floors, so people in/out, or up/down will never get in each other’s way. You can buy an advance ticket which allows you to enter the tower without queueing up for a ticket (and, according to the space that is allocated, the queues can be very long indeed), but they are more expensive than if you just go and wait in line. I did not have to wait, as it was Tuesday afternoon, but I guess that the Skytree will become very crowded in the weekends.

Okay, a few more facts about the Skytree to satisfy the nerd in me (and in other people as well): As mentioned above, it is 634 m high, the numbers can be read in Japanese as “mu-sa-shi”, which is a nod to the old name of the area in which the tower stands. At the base, the Skytree’s cross-section is shaped like an equilateral triangle, but the higher you come, the more and more round it becomes – this progress is depicted in the elevator as you go up, by the way – and the Tembo observation deck on 350 m already has a circular cross-section. This makes the base very stable, and the top is such that it can withstand high winds easily. Depending under which angle the Skytree is viewed, this change of diameter shows a different shape from below.

At the centre of the tower is a 375 m high concrete pillar. This and the steel structures surrounding it can move independently to absorb up to 50 % of the shock from earthquakes. Interestingly, this appears to be an ancient way to construct high buildings – traditional five storied pagodas were built using the same principle.The tower is painted a special type of white, also coming from old, traditional sources, and in the night it is lit by LED’s in two different styles that alternate daily – the purple one I saw uses a colour that is reminiscent of the old Edo court, when the Shogun and the samurai were still in charge of Japan. There are four elevators to the Tembo deck, and, if you can believe the display in them, their maximum speed is 600 m/min. Well, we did not travel very long, that’s for sure. Two more elevators – this time with a glass door and a glass top to “heighten anticipation of the visitors” lead to the galleria in 450 m height.

Insides

We are having a serious attack of builders in the house. Well, actually, it’s only one elderly guy, but he’s everywhere and nowhere, making lots of noise or none at all, all the time, or not at all… and it has been going on for the whole of last week, and he is not yet finished. I have no idea what the general plan is (we are usually not told anything unless we specifically ask), but one of the bigger things he has been doing was to replace the ceiling in one of the upstairs rooms.

The ceiling is a very simple construction of very thin wood planks (I guess less than 5 mm thick) nailed to a frame, so replacing it is very simple. It took him two days: One to remove the old ceiling, and a second one to put up the new one. I know this does not sound very fascinating, but these 5 mm of wood are the only thing between the upstairs rooms and the roof. As the house is around 100 years old, the construction of the roof is very interesting indeed – have a look:

The main beams are just trunks of more or less straight trees, and it does not seem as if much has been done to make them more fit for the purpose, like nowadays, when you cut them into long rectangular poles. Also, look at the roof: No insulation, only wooden shingles (and I bet they are not very thick either), and on top of that the roof tiles.

An interesting feature on both ends of the house are two large triangular pieces filled with small stones. I wonder what that is good for – maybe to keep the roof on the house during typhoons? Before you ask, yes even in Kyoto we can have very heavy storms, although the winds are not as strong as on the shore.

Do you see the cables winding so leisurely along the roof? Hello electricity! It does seem scary somehow, don’t you think? My housemate’s assertion that this is how it was done everywhere else as well only that it was usually better covered up, may be correct, but does not really make me feel better.

Finally, look at the top of the wall here: This looks like thin bamboo sticking out, doesn’t it? The house is old enough to essentially only consist of a wooden frame between which are earthen walls – and this bamboo wattling is used to hold the mud together better, I presume. (I think the correct architectural term for this type of house is “frame house” and the inner workings of the walls are called “wattle and daub” but I’m happy to be corrected on this.)

It is interesting to see, that the basics of construction have not changed much in the last 100 years or so. Think about it: nowadays, instead of wood and bamboo we are using steel, and the mud has been replaced by concrete, but besides that… In any case, I did not expect the house to be that flimsy, to be honest. At least I now understand in detail why it is so unbelievably cold in here during the winter…

Kinkaku-ji

The Golden Pavillion Temple Kinkaku-ji is the most striking of all the famous sights in Kyoto and should be on the very top of your must-see list when coming here. The Golden Pavillion is the main building of a zen temple – officially known as Rokuon-ji, Deer Garden temple – in Northern Kyoto and it is golden indeed: The two top floors of the three story building which stands in a large lake with several islands are covered in gold leaf on laquer and a golden phoenix crowns the centre of the roof. If you look closely you may notice that each floor is representative of a different architectural style: The ground floor is typical of the Heian period style palace buildings called shinden, the first floor is a guilded version of the bukke style of samurai residences, and the top floor – covered in gold leaf in- and outside – is built in the style of a Chinese zen hall. The pavillion houses Buddha statues and similar relics, but it is not open to the public.

The pavillion and the garden date back to the late 14th century, when the third shogun of the Muramachi period, Ashikaga Yoshimitsu, bought the property from another statesman and built his own villa there. After his death, according to his wishes, the whole estate was turned into a Buddhist temple. The golden pavillion is the only “original” structure left from that period; I use the quotes because the building has burnt down and been restored several times in its history, the last time it was destroyed by arson in 1950 and rebuilt five years later. Below are the old abbot’s quarters, with beautiful screen paintings – but it’s not open to the public either.

The large garden surrounding Kinkaku-ji is truly original though, and considered an especially fine example of garden design from the Muromachi period. The garden was meant to represent the pure land of Buddha in this world. The pavillion lies in a pond with ten small islands, and on a clear day the impression of the golden building is heightened by its reflection in the water.

The one-way path leads you along the pond to the back of the pavillion and from there into the garden, where a number of little springs can be seen and several places where people throw coins for luck. The second floor of the garden on top of the hill contains another little pond called Anmintaku that allegedly never dries up, and the Sekkatei, an Edo-period tea house that has been specifically built to enjoy the view on Kinkaku-ji during the afternoon – the best hours to view it.

Gosho

When the capital of Japan was transferred to Kyoto in 794 (then known as Heian-kyo), the emperor’s living quarters were called the Dairi imperial residence. When the Dairi was destroyed by fire, the emperor moved his private residence to the palaces of other noble families in the city. Clearly, it must have been a great honour for those families, and the number of imperial (ex-) residences (or Sato-dairi) in Kyoto makes it easy to believe that the emperor was rather forthcoming with this kind of favour. From the latter half of the Heian period (794 – 1185), the original imperial residence fell into disuse, and the emperor moved for good into the Sato-dairi. In 1331, emperor Kogen was crowned in a Sato-dairi called Tsuchi-Mikado-Higashi-no-Toin-Dono, and subsequently, it became the new imperial palace, the starting point of today’s imperial palace or gosho. It remained the residence of the emperor until 1869, when the imperial household left Kyoto and moved to Tokyo after the Meiji restoration.

The imperial palace, like many parts of Kyoto, was destroyed by fire several times in its 500 year history, it was often reconstructed, but also new buildings were added throughout. So, when you visit the palace, there are many different architectural styles to be seen, starting from the bright red buildings with endless corridors of the Heian time to the Otsunegoten, the emperor’s private residence in the Shoin-style of 1590. The latest addition to the palace, however, is the Shinmikurumayose – a new entrance for carriages that was built for the 1915 enthronement ceremony of emperor Taisho.

When you enter the palace grounds through the Gishumon gate, you first pass the Okurumayose entrance for dignitaries and then you see the Shodaibu-no-ma, a waiting room, or, rather, three adjacent waiting rooms, decorated according to the rank of the people who would have to wait there for their audience.

Other than those visitors of old, you have to take a more roundabout way: You pass the Shinmikuru-mayose and the red Heian-style corridors to get to the Nikkamon Gate leading to the Shishinden, the most important building of the palace. It was used for enthronement ceremonies for example, and there is the Chrysanthemum throne in the centre and the smaller empress’s throne to the right of it. Sitting on the throne (no, you’re not allowed to enter any of the buildings), you behold to the South a large Japanese Zen-style “garden” of raked white gravel, the only living things in there are a cherry and a mandarin tree.

You then move past the Shishinden to the Seiryoden, a reconstruction of the emperor’s residence built in the 8th century, where the emperor would receive visitors. Opposite the Kogosho and Ogakumonjo-buildings (for meetings with lower ranking people and lesser ceremonies in general), there is a beautiful Japanese garden called the Oikeniwa.

Its pond is meant to resemble the sea, pebble beach included, but the red koi do not quite fit that image. Finally, you get a glimpse at the Otsunegoten, the private residence of the emperor. It is the largest structure of the palace grounds with 15 rooms and faces the Gonatei, the emperor’s private garden. This is the end of the tour and you exit through the Seishomon gate.

The Imperial Palace covers an area of about 110.000 square metres. It is enclosed by a wall, and lies inside the Kyoto National Gardens, which covers more than 900.000 square metres and is enclosed by another wall. To visit the palace, you must first register with the Imperial Household Agency. You can do this either online or in person in their office in the garden. You can go as late as 20 minutes before a tour, but it’s better to be early. There are currently two free tours in English from Monday to Friday. Don’t forget your passport! Check out the homepage of the Imperial Household Agency for more details.