Another Weekend in May

“Case in point: I have hardly left my room this week after the latest weekend, not due to tiredness, but due to interrogating what’s important.” And what’s important was to keep the band wagon rolling, this weekend was spent in Kyoto bounding through temples, bars, shops, trains and mountains.

The team consisted of Koike san (my associate professor), Sakane San (a friend and colleague from The University of Tokyo), Bojan and myself.  The main purpose again was to visit Katsura imperial villa to assist Bojan in capturing footage for his PHD. Koike San was down visiting a clients of hers with her adorable daughter and Sakane San decided to come along for a break from Tokyo town.  I was particularly keen to capture the first frames with my recently acquired vintage Hasselblad camera. As much as I love instagram and its revitalized concept of the Polaroid “snap”, I feel it necessary to have some “keepers” so to speak of this perplexing country in which I call home. The Japanese analog culture has further captivated me - firstly through the rich LP culture but film photography is still alive and well also. Both of these mediums of art and creation embody tactile qualities. It is this tactility and notion of primitiveness that captivates and engages many. What is more, the architectural projects in which I admire echo these qualities and incorporate simple methods in the design process. In this light, it is clear that I find disparities of vernacular architecture, art and music the upmost inspiring. See Peter Rich, mapungubwe interpretation centre, South Africa and listen Aster Aweke - Y'shebellu

 

So it was Friday night and I head to Shinjuku station to meet up with Bojan and Sakane san. They were both fashionably 20 minutes late but it didn’t matter all that much. We bought our tickets, hung around and boarded our double decker JR night bus. Koike is already in Kyoto at this point. The seats were comfortable with generous legroom however the lower level in which we sat was quite claustrophobic due to the extremely low ceiling height. Nonetheless, still not as threatening as the rusty crustys of India and Nepal. I listened to some music and then dozed off. We all woke when we arrived in Kyoto at around 6:30am.  We gathered our bags and thoughts, rubbed our eyes, ruffled our hair and slumped outside McDonalds waiting for it to open and provide us with much needed refreshments and junk food. Once inside, we collected our orders and descended into the underground seating area. The seats were finished in the reflective glitter PVC you see in Grease, and the two party girls passed out the bench where dressed equally as glittery. I fiddled around with my camera and loaded my first roll of film. I am excited. Koike calls and she is up and about, requesting us to make our way to Byodo-in 40 minutes away by train. So we roll out.

After a pleasant journey from Kyoto station to JR Uji Station on the JR Nara Line, we met up with the smiling and fresh Koike San at the entrance. Byodoin Temple is a striking example of Buddhist Pure Land architecture. Together with its garden, the temple represents the Pure Land Paradise. Originally it was a countryside retreat villa for the powerful politician Fujiwara no Michinaga, but was later turned into a temple by his son through the construction of the Pheonix Hall. Currently, it’s presence on the Japanese 10 yen coin owes to its popularity. We took a guided tour of the Pheonix hall and visited the recently constructed museum. Fujiwara no Michinaga

After Byodoin we strolled along the Uji River and made our way to what claims to be the oldest shrine in all of Japan, Ujigami Shrine. The honden of the Ujigami Shrine is known as the oldest example of nagare-zukuri style of shrine architecture in Japan. The haiden is built in the shinden-zukuri style, and its roof in the sugaruhafu style. The roof entails very charming curved eaves on the opposing east and west facades.

From here we took short stroll back across the river and popped into at eirakuya R A A K (http://www.eirakuya.jp/). Each of us picked out a dyed towel, casually left and headed up the road for a delicious green tea soba and desert lunch inside an original bourgeois residential property of the Edo period. From here we made our way back to Kyoto station by train and then took a taxi to Katsura Rikyu. This particular visit revealed the garden at its most lush. The increased heat and occasional torrential rain has the trees and shrubs bursting with growth and aroma. I was concentrating on the recording and photographic process, however thinking two dimensionally gave me a fresh perspective on how one experiences and views particular moments of the villa. eg. The variations of depth of field and the layering of vistas.

After the tour we made a quick dash in taxi to Sanjosangendo Temple. The taxi driver made the journey very entertaining both through his spirited driving (we were running out of time) and his bafflement over the geographical position of Serbia. Quite the character. Despite the excitement, we made it just in time. Sanjosangendo is a Buddhist temple whose name literally means Hall with thirty three spaces between columns, describing the architecture of the long main hall of the temple. Inside exists one thousand spectacular life sized statues of the Thousand Armed Kannon.

Once leaving Sanjosangendo, Koike san invited us to her clients home. Nestled at the foothills on a dramatically sloped sire in the North western mountains of Kyoto, the black timber home sits stoic and contentedly. The family of four inside the lit enclosure looks out towards the street as we arrive and wave uncontrollably. We exchange greetings and then proceed on an inquisitive question and answer critique of the house, circumnavigating around the entire structure. We stood out the back slope talking about the wild deer that come and eat their plants and the construction materials all the while the children wandered off into the forest with their pet cat. What a magical place for a child. 

The house is relentlessly black, clad in a fired cedar pine and accompanied by black window frames, eaves and protruding rafters. The aesthetic is stark but soft and the form is crisp and essential. Topped by a thin gabled roof, the simple rectangular wooden box is punctured by small openings where needed to allow the entrance of light and air. A large opening on the East face opens out to a timber veranda which offers panoramic views of the nearby mountains and distant city landscape. Upon entering, one is met with an evident sense of warmth and homeliness. The décor echo’s a retro 70’s influence through the Danish furniture, cork flooring and low lying horizontal dimensions of the joinery.  The plan is open and efficient, with storage space is incorporated into the unorthodox spaces created by the slope of the land. There are no walkways or halls, allowing every square meter to be used and adapted to a range of activities. The two you daughter’s bedroom is shared, however the use of twin access allows for separation in their later years. Pivot openings above the bedroom doors allows maintained privacy and cross ventilation. This is a fine family home in a wonderful part of the world.

After the tour of the house, which included mulling over the drawings and material samples, we were treated to tea and cake. The evening was fast approaching and I needed to get to check into my hostel and Bojan and Sakane san had a train to catch back to Tokyo. The owner kindly drove us back into town, which made me realise it was the first time I had been in a car besides a taxi since leaving home (it’s a big deal for a suburban Australian). We had half an hour to spare so we quickly scoffed down delicious okonomiyaki (Japanese savory pancake) in Gion.

To no surprise, Bojan bailed in his plans to rush back to Tokyo and decided to stay the night in Kyoto. So we both trotted off towards our hostel named Pan & Circus. Now, Pan & Circus is not your usual hostel arrangement, especially for Japanese hospitality standards, but what it has in droves is character. Located only 10 minutes on foot from downtown, the hostel is subsidiary to its street front bar. In the dark street we saw a venue buzzing with light and activity, “that’s it!” I said and both Bojan and I were aghast. Inside an art installation opening party was playing out so we shuffled through the people and made our way to the bar to say, “Uhhh…we have a reservation”.  The delightful bartender pointed us in the direction a rusty and haggard door. Pan & Circus is housed in a machiya style town house served as a former pawn shop, so fittingly the décor of both the bar and upstairs sleeping quarters is an eclectic mix of antiquities: furniture, paintings, books, rugs, mirrors, musical instruments and bits and bobs. It is a feast for the eyes as the designs undercurrent is a fusion of baroque and bohemian flavors. We made our way up the creaky and narrow stairwells past the charming second floor communal space to the third floor roof space. Here, two bunk beds, a couple of futons and a hammock fill a spartan tatami room guttered of its shoji screens. The windows were covered in plastic offering precarious privacy but the original open ceiling and atmosphere of the room was so cool I couldn’t care less. The cooking facilities are located back down on the ground floor in which you have to pass through and a decrepit alfresco passage to reach the frugal shower. To top it off, the place was run by a bubbly bunch of young locals and its cheap (2500 yen per night)

We got settled and headed out for a late evening of meeting people, eating, drinking, dancing and arm wrestling. Just the usual. I made it back to Pan & Circus at respectable hour…sort of. Bojan followed an hour or so later.

We woke up at around 11am with no real strong intentions for the day despite getting a bus ticket for Bojan to return home. Oddly, the hostel was oddly abandoned so I roamed around and took a few photographs. We tentatively left, locked the door and slowly walked towards Kyoto station stopping off to consume bananas and orange juice. Once at Kyoto station Bojan bought a ticket and we then consumed more food before deciding to head to Arashiyama for the afternoon. So we boarded the train along with a bunch of adorable elderly locals who were fascinated by us and enjoyed the journey to Arashiyama. Once there, we purchased tickets for the “Romantic Sagano Train” and watched a small festival parade go by. We had an hour or so to kill so we decided to just chill out a local café / designed objects shop. We each had a coffee and controlled our gluttonous impulses by sharing a banana and chocolate pancake.  

The Sagano Romantic Train is 25 minute train ride that follows the course of the Hozu River on a narrow-gauge track through the idyllic canyon from Arashiyama to the rice agricultural fields of Kamoeka. It was loud, exciting, beautiful and well worth it. I particularly enjoyed the way in which it drops you off literally in the middle of nowhere with the idea being you take it to return or connect to the JR train a five minute walk away. We opted for the latter. Before we boarded the train however, we decided to enjoy the symptomatic scenery of the Kamoeka Area. In the foreground, rice paddies glisten in the afternoon sun while their owners meticulously attended the adjacent vegetable gardens. In the middle distance lay rows of houses foregrounded by a train line, and behind them, housing towers reach far into the sky. A flared haze of a dramatic mountainous ridgeline marks the outermost boundary of the scene. 

After taking a couple of photos, we stopped by to chat to a local man named Go:  “my name is Go…easy come easy Go” is what he hilariously stated. We inquired about the rafting activities in the Hozu river and he enthusiastically told us about his trip to the Philippines. It was a brief but colorful encounter. We found the station after Bojan asked some stray children on the street where it was. I thought it wasn’t best that two big hairy Gaijins in the middle of nowhere approach small children playing the street, however despite my assumption they came running up with attentive excitement and performed and synchronized salute in the direction of the station. We boarded the train and headed back to wander through the famous Arashiyama bamboo grove.  After meeting a few Tokyoites in the grove and enjoying the setting sun we eventually made it back to downtown Kyoto by train. Once there, we dropped into Jetset records to wreak some more financial havoc for the greater good of AfroBeat and Ethiopian Jazz music. An Udon noodle dinner followed to replenish our tiring bodies. During dinner the beautiful Jamila, a friend of ours, paid us a visit. The three of strolled through the evening in Pontocho before setting up camp along the Kamo River. We retired there for an hour or so enjoying each other’s company and staring into the trickling river water. 

Not before long we took a taxi and we parted ways at Kyoto station to board our respective buses bound for Tokyo. 

What a brilliant and gratifying couple of days.

Sounds as of late.

Borth soon to be added to my growing vinyl collection consisting of an eclectic mix afro funk, blues, japanese folk and ethio jazz. This is non stop shoulder shuffling stuff.

A Weekend in May

This weekend’s events epitomised what I longed for most from my time here in Japan: An invigorated life, if only temporary, through which I find a sense place and a purpose.

Bojan stayed the night at my place because our last train home terminated at Ikebukuro and he was far from home. We casually strolled into the night talking about a whole host of things, stopping by at the many combini on route to home for snacks and towel (mine disappeared from the clothesline). We made it back and I overwhelmed Bojan with my hospitality by just simply setting up a comfy place for him to have well-earned rest. It was a good old primary school sleep over set up. I guess mum taught me well.

Something that I didn’t expect out of my experience here in Japan was to acquire such strong mateships (an Australian coloqial term meaning the embodiment of equality, loyalty and friendship). Bojan is a crazy bastard but a genius in his own way; these go hand in hand. We are loyal and open to each other which has often lead to heated disagreements but most importantly, there is always an unwavering understanding. What my father told me once was that a solid relationship is based on correlating core values. He is right and Bojan and I share many.

So after a Friday evening of beers and pseudo-intellectual banter about Japan and other things with the Danish crew, we rose to continue with a planned frenzy of a weekend.  Bojan left to go to a meeting in which he was already half an hour late but “never mind” as he always unwittingly says. I needed to get to the Kengo Kumas Office to hopefully finish off an occasionally stagnate two and a half months of work in the practice. I have become good friends with my colleague Abe san and understood that me completing the work would help her concentrate on her new project. Also, the job wasn’t finished despite it carrying on much further than it should have, so I felt completing it was a the dignified thing to do. In the end, we were both happy to see the project finally finish up. We exhibited the final model for others in the office to gawk at and we received some inspiring comments. As most projects are based at the university, to be placed in the office was a rare opportunity to be exposed to one of the world’s best international architectural practices. I knew it would involve a little selling of my soul, but in my early years I still need to pay my dues and learn as much as I can. More importantly, the experiences lead me to deconstruct my purpose for being there. We all encompass the opportunity to define ourselves however access and the will to carry this out is dependent on many chaotic factors: place, time, health, mental capacity, heritage etc. This chaos can be positively geared and exploited, more so if one participates rather than spectates. I subscribe to this. At the present, my passion for many things is leading me from one opportunity to the next with great purpose and curiosity. In this process, surrounding myself with the right people and giving back to them is quintessential to building a constantly stimulating environment. Of course I feel lost and deflated at times, but being critical and asking the difficult question pulls me back into line. Case in point: I have hardly left my room this week after the latest weekend, not due to tiredness, but due to interrogating what’s important.

I left the office in a flurry. I dashed onto the Ginza line to head to Askakusa where the Sanja Matsuri Festival was taking place. I rose from the depths of the subway to find Nakmise Street and surrounding areas alive with festive spirit.  The Sanja Matsuri (three shrine festival) is held in honor of Hinokuma Hamanari, Hinokuma Takenari and Hajino Nakatomo, the three men who established and founded Senso-ji Temple. The festival is coursed over three days in the third weekend in May. Its prominent parades revolve around three mikoshi (three portable shrines referenced in the festival's name), as well as traditional music and dancing. We were here Saturday in which approximately 100 mikoshi from the 44 Asakusa districts are carried by the district members. Bojan and I trailed behind a mikoshi party taking pictures and just simply enjoying the moment. An Aussie guy married to a local was part of the carrying parade and he handed his jersey to Bojan and he jumped in. Then a kind local guy handed me a jersey and I jumped in as well. So we bobbed up and down, stepped side to side, chanted and helped carry this two ton mikoshi through the Asakusa backstreets. What a moment. What a privilege. At the end we were gifted with a bento and beer for our voluntary participation. Again it was just wonderful to participate, rather than spectate even if my agenda wasn’t totally parallel with the locals in a religious sense.

We called it a night and it was onto the next event. I rushed back to the university to grab pick up a few things and called my other great mate Cezar. We met each other on my first full day in Japan and the rest they say is history. He is one the most profoundly intelligent people I have ever met. It is always a pleasure to bounce ideas, thoughts and opinions at him because the response will be wise and underpinned by his acute philosophical pedigree…or completely hilarious in the driest of manner. It seems he will be leaving Japan within a month or so and I am not looking forward to his departure in any way. We live in the same dorm and therefore have shared countless hours of doing whatever: eating, drinking, talking, burping, laughing, gaming, debating, hypothesizing, reminiscing and so on and so forth. Consequently, a deep void will be left when he leaves but I am sure a lifelong bond will remain. Our paths will cross again.

Cezar was asleep when I called after he had a comparatively uninspiring experience at the festival earlier in the afternoon. We were both due to go to a friend’s house party out west, and I was doubtful of his participation based on his dreary state over the phone and it already being 10pm. But like a true champ he hauled himself out of his afternoon slumber and agreed to meet me at Sasazuka Station.  We had agreed to stay only until the last train or at worst to take a taxi at a reasonable hour because I had a hiking trip planned the next morning and Cezar doesn’t cope too well with all-nighters, who does really? We strolled through the quaint and labyrinthine Sasazuka streets, enjoying the challenge of listening out for that ‘party’ sound. We eventually found it and made our way inside a well-appointed three storey modern Tokyo home. Julia, our Austrian friend, lives here with a couple of local guys and so the crowd was an even mix of locals and imports. The kitchen, dining and lounge areas were full and the atmosphere was warm, intimate and very social. These healthy characteristics meant that we would inevitably stick it out the whole night. For five or so hours I mingled, drank, snacked and chatted until I snoozed on the balcony until the sun rose. I was due at Shinjuku, with my hiking gear and ready to go at 6:30am. This was rough. Cezar and I left in the full light of day and made our way back home so I could gather myself and head off. Cezar thought I was going to die and rightly so. Nonetheless, like a true crazy person I dashed off and made it to the bus just in time feeling rather ok. I chatted to my seating buddy Bret an English teacher from California for about an hour and then I invested in a couple hours sleep on the bus until we got to our destination at the base of Mount Amagi.

This day trip was orgainsed by the Tokyo Gaijins group who offer a range of events for both foreigners and locals wanting to work in their English. This was my first time to join an event and I was quite impressed. It was very well organised, attracted a good mix of people and the cost was reasonable. Mt. Amagi is a dormant volcano on the Izu peninsula further south of Hakodate in the Shizuoka Prefecture. . The day was overcast so views of Fuji were minimal, but at least it was cool and dry. The hills here are covered in Japanese maple and beech, with rhododendron and heather combining in a variety of colours that are best seen at the end of May. My agenda for the trip was to meet some new people, try out some new gear and get the legs moving in preparation for my Karakoram Himalayan adventure in July/August. These “blind” activities are definitely something I have been more inclined to participate in as being a foreigner; however I plan to echo this attitude when I return home. It really is a great way to meet people and break your routine. After today’s effort I definitely need to strengthen my conditioning but I am confident I will be ready to hit the high mountains in a couple months’ time. At the end of the day after walking and talking for 6 hours we were all completely spent and most slept on the bus back to Shinjuku. I said my farewells, rode the Yamonote line to Otuska and finally made it back to my bed at 10 and crashed. Quite the 48 hours.

As I said in the beginning, the success and of this abroad experience so far to me has been dependent on finding a sense of place. Life for many revolves around three particular qauntitave environments / geographies of work, home and the re-occurrence in between. What binds these environments is the qualitative sense of friendship and one’s own pursuit. When you begin a new life somewhere, whether it is in another country or the next suburb, you have to seek out and nurture these qauntitave and qualitative factors in order to maintain a sustained sense of place and purpose. I feel I have achieved this to a certain extent and it is going to be hard to let it go.