Japan part II: a journey between nature and architecture

Following on from our previous article on our impressions of our short stay in Japan, here is a selection of our favourite places, city by city, memory by memory. 

Tokyo

The residential area where we stayed, to the south of Nishi-Nippori, was quiet in the evenings and mornings but lively during the day, when many merchants open their small shops selling tableware, handicrafts and desserts. An antiques flea market is also held here on Sundays, where you can find many textile treasures. We also came across a cobbler's shop, Blue Bee Shoes, which makes custom-made shoes. It's often difficult to find what you're looking for because of the language barrier, so the best thing to do is wander around and keep your eyes open. To the north of Nishi-Nippori metro station is the textile street, with specialist shops on several floors. Although there are many imported products, you can still find plenty of local textiles and Japanese tools.

Our view at sunrise, a neighbouring façade, custom-made shoes by Blue Bee Shoes.

During our stay in the city, we were lucky to visit an exhibition at the 21_21 museum organised by the Issey Miyake Foundation. In galleries 1 and 2 there was an exhibition of prototypes called "Future Elements: Experimental Laboratory for Prototyping in Science and Design". Curated by Shunji Yamanaka, the exhibition looked at multidisciplinary research processes and their potential for the future. In gallery 3, the exhibition Focus on Stretch Pleats highlighted the process behind Issey Miyake's "me" collection. This material is finely pleated both horizontally and vertically, allowing it to stretch in all directions. A video of the industrial process was shown at the entrance to the gallery, and the sound of the machines punctuated the visit. From the first paper tests through each stage of production to the coloured tops in the collection, you could appreciate the research and complexity behind these pieces.

Views of the exhibitions at the museum 21_21

Of course, we also visited the more central, vibrant and noisy districts, even though we prefer more traditional Japan (we're not getting any younger!). In a quiet corner of the Shibuya district, we visited the famous Tsutaya bookshop, where we were able to browse and stock up on rare books; architecture, traditional carpentry and Boro (the art of traditional mending) were just some of the subjects we chose. We also left the centre of Tokyo to see a bit of nature. Further south, we went to the island of Enoshima, where we could appreciate the textures of the seaside landscape, with the waves breaking on the white rocks and the imposing Mount Fuji in the distance. Then, in Kamakura, we took a tram that seemed to have come out of another century, running alongside the sea, where schoolgirls in uniforms and surfers enjoyed the beach. It was here that we saw the great Buddha of Kotoku-In. We saw the craftswomen at Gram's making jewellery on the spot for visitors, then ended the day at a small pizzeria, Le Blue, hidden away on the second floor of a shopping street, which we found by chance.

Mount Fuji, images of Enoshima, the trams of Kamakura, a custom-made ring by Gram.

At Awonoyoh

In June 2023, we met Taka-San and Tomo-San, the couple behind Awonoyoh, a shibori and kimono workshop. We spent two days in Montreal learning some shibori techniques with them and contacted them to let them know we'd be in the Tokyo area in May. They generously invited us to come and visit their workshop and take a class for a few hours in their incredible facilities. Like something out of a Miyazaki film, we waited for Taka at Fujino train station, where he picked us up in his little truck. On the zig-zagging road to his house nestling between sharp mountains, we were treated to steep fields of green tea. They gave us a warm and friendly welcome to their traditional home, where we shared a heart-warming home-cooked meal (the only one of the trip!) and dyed shades of indigo in their large ceramic vats. Taka and his friends had dug out the stone floor by hand so that they could insert their 8-foot-deep vats, allowing them to control the temperature.

Also on site were two students in residence, who spend two weeks perfecting their dyeing and sewing techniques with the masters. Once the pieces had been dyed, ironed and laid out to dry, we were able to rummage through their books on Japanese textiles and watch the students at work. Taka introduced us to the traditional Mulberry paper, which he uses to make his stencils. Although short, the visit was exceptional. On the way back, with Meitei's music playing in the truck, we caught a glimpse of the late afternoon sun peeking through a bamboo forest, a rather epic sight. Before dropping us off at the station, Taka gave us a tour of his garden, where he grows the indigo he uses in his workshop. We returned to Tokyo with blue hands and the feeling of having had a unique experience.

Views of the workshop and the outside of the house. Thank you Taka for the photos of us at work.

Kyoto

We took the train to the old city of Kyoto, to see the Zen temples, the houses with their unique facades and the antique shops. We brought back a number of antique fabrics, both for framing and for sewing unique pieces for ourselves. We also spent a full day cycling around the city, visiting several iconic places. Our first stop, the Ginkaku-ji (Silver Pavilion), was a unique garden of stone and sand. It is said that the pile of sand was left by the workers when the work was interrupted (in 1467 due to a war) and is said to symbolise Mount Fuji. The wide, curved garden of sand and raised stone with its broad, very straight stripes provides a controlled contrast. On the morning we visited, a dozen or so workers were busy sculpting it, and watching them was very meditative.

Texture in stone, a façade on the way to the temple, the view from above, the stone garden.

We then made our way to Entsuji temple, at the top of a very steep hill, where we enjoyed the mountain scenery framed perfectly by the temple, like a painting. The idea behind its design is for the garden to engage our gaze with the trees and then with Mount Hiei. This idea is called 'shakkei', (translated as borrowed landscape), where the designer incorporates - or borrows - a landscape into the architecture of the garden. Entsuji temple is recognised as one of the most spectacular shakkei.

Views of Entsuji temple and the steep path to get there.

The third stop was Ryoan-Ji, which means "the temple of the dragon's rest", a UNESCO World Heritage site since 1994. The 'hiraniwa' (flat garden with no pond or hill) is simple and harmonious, demonstrating great skill. After a long period of meditative observation behind the temple, in complete peace and quiet, we found the lake and gardens. Difficult to describe, a small carved forest with paths through it seemed surreal. We couldn't find any information about this part of the garden, if it really exists.

Views of Ryoan-Ji temple and the garden behind it.

These three temples, like most temples, are at the top of sometimes very steep hills. Getting there by bike, in the very hot sun, required a lot of effort and meant that we arrived at these places of contemplation feeling more sensitive and vulnerable. The view from the top of a mountain is more beautiful, but the physical effort to get there is part of the experience and transforms the visit into a reward. The time spent pedalling back silently was also conducive to making this an unforgettable day. On the way back, we rode along the river that divides Kyoto in two, and stopped on some stones to enjoy the sunset. A great blue heron lounged just a few feet away, the sky was ablaze, and the mountains in the distance had darker and darker layers of blue, reminiscent of successive dips in indigo dye.

Sunset over the river Tenjin, a great blue heron
and a watercolour of the evening by Emily Bain.

Kyoto still had surprises in store for us, and the next day we found two independent designer boutiques, both very well hidden. We don't know if it was out of humility, a desire for simplicity or to be safe from the tourists, but both boutiques had no visible signage or presence on online maps. We first found the bright, minimalist T.T boutique by doing a search on Japanese designers. At the posted address, we gently slid open a door, hoping we were in the right place. In this space, where light and views are carefully controlled, clothes and works of art sit harmoniously side by side. It was here that we were recommended the next shop, Z otokage-otsukei.

Inside and outside the T.T. boutique

Despite the address, we searched for a long time; the entrance to the shop is hidden from view, at the end of an alleyway in an ordinary residential street. A wooden plank on a wall with a white z painted on it finally pointed us to the entrance. Dark and mysterious, in contrast to the previous shop, Z was like a cavern of a thousand and one treasures. The charming staff told us how a shirt had been dyed, where a pair of stockings had been knitted, what distinguished one designer from another. The atmosphere was so subdued that the staff would describe the colours of the fabrics we were interested in

Teshima and Naoshima

While we thought Japan had already blown us away, we didn't realise that the most grandiose experiences were yet to come. By train and then by boat, we made our way to Teshima to visit the most beautiful museum we've had the chance to visit to date. Teshima is a small island in the Seto Inland Sea, and has been much in the news following the illegal dumping of almost a million tonnes of waste on its shores. The island's 700 inhabitants, half of whom are over 65, have been fighting for over thirty years to remedy this injustice. In 2010, in a bid to revitalise the island, the Teshima Art Museum was built by architect Ryue Nishizawa and artist Rei Naito. The museum itself is a work of art, and the only thing on display is the moving water from the natural springs discharged onto the island. Hard to describe, this unusual museum is similar to traditional Japanese temples in many ways, yet has a completely new aesthetic. This museum will be the subject of an article, the experience was so unique that we want to share it in more detail. That evening, we swam in the sea during a breathtaking sunset before going to sleep in a minka, on tatami mats.

A day exploring the tranquil island of Teshima. We saw as many cats as we did residents.

The next morning, we took the boat again, this time to the island of Naoshima, to visit the Chichu Museum. Built in 2004, this museum was designed by architect Tadao Ando to rethink the relationship between nature and people. Built mainly underground so as not to affect the island's landscape, the museum nevertheless lets in plenty of natural light, allowing the works and the space to be altered by the passage of time, depending on the season or the time of day. The architect designed the spaces in collaboration with the artists or their foundation - the exhibitions are permanent - blurring the boundaries between the museum, the works and nature. We were particularly struck by James Turrell's Open Sky, which seems to be a contemporary version of the contemplation of the landscape enjoyed in Japanese temples. As in Zen gardens, the concept of a borrowed landscape can be found in several places in this museum, with the view of nature, trees and sky forming an integral part of the design. The old and the new are always in conversation with each other!

The Chichu Museum on the island of Naoshima. The third photo is a work by James Turrel, taken from the museum's book.

When we got back to Montreal, we picked up a couple of rosemary plants to remind ourselves of the aromas of Japan. If we could return to this country so rich in culture, we'd like to visit more artists' studios and discuss their practices. We'd like to immerse ourselves in traditional culture, maybe see some Noh theatre, travel less, and stay long enough to develop a Japanese routine.

Thank you to Guillaume Pelletier for sharing their favourites with us. See you next time, Japan!

The cover photo was taken from the Chichu Museum website.