Places
Tokyo
Tokyo, the start of all my trips. Watching the TV drama “Tokyo Love Story” made me wonder how this big city looked like. Bumping into Ozu’s films in my 20s strengthened my resolve to see it with my eyes. After numerous trips, I realized that Tokyo has given me lots of treasures, including
- all its marvelous museums and galleries, especially the Suntory Musuem of Art, Tokyo Photographic Art Museum, Tokyo National Museum.
- vibrant street scenes day and night, as both the canvas and paint for my photographs {{< instagram hxTmsajBRO >}}
- the freedom of branching out in any direction with its closely knitted web of transit systems, and knowing that I can emerge from underground into something suprisingly pleasant.
What not to love there?
Ryokans
I love ryokans, as you can savor so many traditions in a single stay. From taking in the architecture, seasonal interior displays, meticulous hospitality, therapetic hot bath, and finally the beautifully arranged kaiseki meal, the whole experience is like a bento of everything Japan has to offer. So passionate about ryokans that I even created a project to help fellow travelers find the right ryokan.
Of all the ryokans I’ve stayed in, I especially rever those in the deep mountain or forests. Soaking in a private bath under the tree canopies or looking over a vast valley, it seems the painting of Higashiyama Kaii comes to life in front of me.
Kanazawa 金沢 - before the opening of Hokuriku Shinkansen
There are so many “little Kyotos” in Japan, but Kanazawa is way above all else. It served as the capital of the Maeda lords’ domain, who had a finesse for negotiating and compromising under the severe scrutiny of the Tokugawa shogun. The Maeda clan’s priority for culture still shows today, as can be seen in the many heritage assets like Kutani ware, Kaga ryori, tea houses, etc. It was so sad to see some of my favorite traditional restaurants closing or changing directions when more tourists flock there. Kanazawa still has a place in my heart for being the understated but elegant gem.
Small temples in Kyoto
Kyoto has been suffering from over tourism for years. Despite this, it still holds an important part in my heart simply because of its zen gardens. I did follow the herd to visit all the big ones (Kiyomizu-dera, Ryuonji, Kinkakuji) during my first trip to Japan. After that, it was all for the much less common temples, especially the subtemples in the Daitokuji complex. Of all, I enjoy Ryogenin 龍源院 and Zuihouin 瑞峯院 most. Zuihouin was designed by the famed landscape designer Shigemori Mirei (重森三玲) in 1961 and carries a very modernist touch. To escape the crowd further, venture deeper north to Daikakuji 大覚寺 which was originally built as a detached palace.
Visiting in the shoulder reason also helps, especially if you can give up hanami (cherry blossom viewing) or momijigari (autumn leaves viewing). Prioritizing solitude, I often visited in winter time when the temples are often deserted leaving much for one to contemplate alone. Yes it is always chilly especially under foot, but so can one’s mind and thought process be clearer in this atmosphere.
It was in these smaller and less crowded gardens that I could spend some time with myself without any deadline or distraction. Sitting in the engawa and gazing at the rocks, it seems my past is like a carousel and when all the films are wound, I finally got what was portrayed in Ozu’s scenes: that things are the way they are.
{{< instagram BVQfnXCjLIP >}}Byodo-in 平等院 - before the 2014 repaint
Byodo-in was built in Uji in the Heian era to symbolize the Jodo belief of crossing the present life to reach the Pure Land in the west, where Amitabha reigns. It’s designed as a Jodo garden, with a lake separating the aptly named Phoenix Hall on an island from the land. It creates the effect that we (the present life) are looking at the Phoenix Hall (the afterlife) from ashore. When the time of the day is right, you will be able to see the Amitabha statue glowing in sunset, symbolizing everything good in the Pure Land.
I’ve always enjoyed the aged patina of its exterior structure, that could only be gained through ages. Somehow, the exterior patina fits the interior wall painting and the various Praying Bodhisattva on Clouds 雲中供養菩薩像 very well, as they all depict the scenes when humans are leaving this world and being delivered by the Bodhisattva to the Pure Land. In late 2011, I was standing in the Phoenix Hall gazing up at the paintings, pilgrims’ signatures and the statues. I began to wonder if the victims who lost their lives in an instant during the East Japan Earthquake were also delivered safely to the Pure Land? And then my tears began to flow.
In 2014, the whole Phoenix Hall was repainted to its Heian-era vermilion color. Call me old-fashioned, but I do always miss the aged look! So I found a photo depicting the pre-2014 hall.
Kita-Kamakura station 北鎌倉駅
This is purely as a pilgramage for Ozu’s films, in which his intellectual characters usually lived in the more secluded Kita-Kamakura suburb and commuted to Tokyo. Just standing on the same platform and waiting for the same train (Yokosuka Line) gives me the feeling of co-existence, abeit 5 decades late.
Katsura Detached Palace 桂離宮
This is the only listed place that I haven’t been to. I actually secured a reservation once, but was so distracted that I completely forgot about it. My fascination with Katsura began years ago with Ishihara Yasuhiro (石原泰博)’s Mondrian-like photos (below). I was simply mesmerized by its simple yet powerful architecture, perhaps through a tinted lens (literally). This sentiment is also echoed by Bruno Taut’s appraisal that the Katsura is the quintessence of Japanese architecture, representing all its qualities, as simple as it is complicated. Indeed, Katsura has gone through decades of differing narratives. Perhaps what’s missing is a face-to-face encounter, to get through the modernist shroud and see it truthfully with my own eyes.
