On the Road to Osaka

I’ve spent the last week or so traveling from Hiroshima to Osaka, staying in a couple of towns on the Inland Sea and taking day trips from there.  It’s been a pleasant time with a bit more sun and warmth, though nothing like the 70 degrees I hear New York has experienced. Before I describe my travels, though, I wanted to begin with my impression of the activities around the March 11 memorial to the Great Eastern Japan Earthquake and Tsunami, as it is called here.

Protestors against nuclear reactors

March 11 Memorial.   Over the past couple of weeks, there have been many TV pieces on the effects of the tsunami and nuclear reactor meltdown: people returning to the towns they had had to flee, the vast empty spaces where the debris had been cleared – there was one shot of a lone tree standing and that was all -- and the continuing nagging questions about the level and extent of the radiation.  I found out there was a memorial service in Tokyo where the Emperor would speak and made plans to watch it.  The Emperor’s participation was of real significance since he had just returned home the week before after bypass surgery.

I don’t know if you saw pictures of the service, but it was very simple, moving, and sad.  The Emperor and Empress, both in their late seventies and gray-haired, were dressed in black, she in a simple kimono.  The stage was simple, with a blue arc, a tall wooden upright plaque memorial, and hundreds of white chrysanthemums.  What was interesting was that all of the speakers – the Emperor, Prime Minister, and others – spoke facing the memorial, their backs to the audience. 

In Okayama where I was staying, there was a parade of people near my hotel, protesting the use of nuclear reactors, understandably a big issue in Japan.  But they, like everyone else in the country, fell silent at 2:46, when the earthquake struck.  In some towns, the temple bells sounded and in others the fire sirens rang.  But after that, all was silent for a moment.  Later, I watched news clips of memorial services around the country:  thousands of white chrysanthemums were laid on tables or shrines, and people gathered at shrines, at their former towns, and at the sea.  It was quite moving.

Kosan-ji

Onomichi and the small islands.  Onomichi is the jumping off point for a bike route to several small islands and ultimately to Imabari on the island of Shikoku.  I only went part way – I didn’t think I could walk the next day if I biked the seven hours it would have taken to go the full distance.  Some of the trip was fairly boring, but it was interesting to ride through the farmland on the second island and go across modern bridges.  On the third little island was a temple, Kosan-ji, built by a wealthy businessman in honor of his mother, and a garden entirely of Italian Carrera marble that he had built by a Japanese sculptor who had a studio in Italy.  Let’s just say this was a very unusual complex, bordering on the garish.  It certainly was interesting!

Marble garden at Kosahn-ji

Bizen Pottery.   From Okayama, the next town where I stayed, I took a day trip to Imbe, home of Bizen pottery that has been made since the 12^th century.  Bizen is earthenware, more rustic, utilitarian and durable than the fine porcelain I saw on Kyushu.  It is unglazed, and its reddish-brown or grey-blue coloring comes from adding ash, charcoal, or straw with the red pine that is used in firing.  Unlike the porcelain I saw, each piece is different; there is no exact duplication of a particular shape.

Bizen pottery

At one shop, I met a young Japanese woman, a potter, who had lived for several years in New Jersey near New York City.  She had gone to study English, met her Korean-born husband, and they had returned to Japan a year ago.   Her father is a ninth generation potter and she, as the only child, will carry on the business.  They were preparing the four-chambered kiln for its annual firing, which would use 1,500 bundles of red pine, 6 cut pieces to a bundle.  It was interesting talking to them about their work and new life.  I also think they liked being able to speak with an American.

Okayama's Black Castle

Okayama.  Okayama is a bigger town than Onomichi, with several rail lines connecting here.  I’m not sure what the basis of its economy is, but its interest for tourists is a large garden, Korakuen, and the black Okayama Castle.  I believe the castle is black because of the wood used when it was originally built in 1597.  It, the white trim and the glinting ornamentation make it quite striking.

Korakuen

Korakuen is one of the three most beautiful gardens in Japan.  It is large and has expansive views, unlike the compact Shukkeien Garden in Hiroshima.  As I looked out from the main house, it reminded me of the vistas in the Western US – I guess that tells you how much I have adjusted to the small spaces in Japan!  Korakuen also has a lovely plum tree orchard, next to what will be a stunning cherry blossom display in a few weeks.

Okayama also proved me wrong about shopping arcades, which I had come to think were a bit tacky.  There’s a quite lovely new arcade next to Okayama’s Symphony Hall, in which an entire block is taken by the Tenmaya department store, complete with Gucci and Chanel displays.  The shopping street is Japan’s answer to the US mall, but it’s all-pedestrian, with no parking lots, and you don’t need to heat the walkways.

Ohashi House

Sand toilet

Kurashiki.  I took another day trip to Kurashiki, which sounds Russian as it’s pronounced “Ku-RASH-ki”.  It’s a lovely old feudal town, where the rice warehouses have been restored and converted to museums, galleries, and the like.  I went to Ohashi House, the 18^th-century home of a wealthy merchant.  Compared to where I’ve stayed and the houses I’ve seen as I walked about, it was huge.  It was just beautiful, well preserved with lovely simple flower arrangements in each tatami-mat room. 

I also went to the Ohara Museum of Art, founded by a textile magnate in the early 20^th century, housing an interesting collection of impressionist and modern art, a lovely exhibit of Japanese painters, and a wonderful display of mingei (folk) pottery.  There are so many different kinds of pottery in Japan, each made in different regions, influenced by the type of clay and the (generally) Korean potters who were brought to the area.  There are also many different kinds of bowls and cups, each for a different purpose:  green tea or roasted, sake and other drinks, rice, udon, soba, churashi, etc.  I could spend the year just exploring Japanese pottery and ceramics, and still have much more to learn!

Himeji & its scaffolding

Himeji.  My last stop on the way to Osaka was Himeji, a town known for its huge white heron of a castle, the finest in all of Japan.  Built in the early 1600’s, it is one of the few original castles left, meaning that it has been maintained as it was originally constructed, not rebuilt in concrete.  That’s important, since the castle is now undergoing a five-year restoration, the first full-scale renovation in 50 years (that’s 1964, if you want to feel old).  Instead of seeing a multi-storied main building, I saw a huge white block of screening around it, with the castle outlines traced upon it.   But, what I and the other visitors got to see was the restoration work being done and stunning views of the city from the scaffolding.  What initially was a bit of a disappointment turned out to be an absolutely fascinating visit.  (If you want to see Himeji as it normally is, go to the web.  I haven't mastered uploading pictures from it yet.)

Tile restoration process: display

Plastering the tile

We were taken up eight stories to the top roof, where we could watch the restoration underway, aided by a video of the work to date and clear displays.   For all of the castle’s roofs, 80,506 different tiles were used.  After careful laying and overlaying, and nailing at least the base to the wooden supporting structure, all the joints were covered in plaster.  The type of clay for the tiles, the structure of the roof, and the kind of plaster used all were designed to withstand weather, wind, and wear.

Working on the plasterwork

Plastering process: display

We also saw the walls being plastered.  The workmen first inspected an area to see where the plaster needed to be repaired or replaced, and how deep they needed to go.  In many places they took the plaster down layer by layer to the foundation, which was a combination of wood and bamboo set vertically and horizontally and bound together with hemp.  To rebuild the wall, the workmen pound clay into the structure to make a rough wall.  After that there are five layers of plaster, each made with slightly different ingredients in a different mix, each a different thickness, some laid over dry plaster, other over wet.  It is quite a process, but one done carefully, with pride, and to withstand another 50 years of wind and weather.  

Castle Garden

There were other videos that described the process of repairing or replacing the woodwork:  carved symbols, eaves, etc.  Each section of the building was drawn to scale, initially by hand, and within the section each piece was measured or traced, again by hand.  Then patterns were constructed where needed to make sure the dimensions taken were correct, and from that new pieces were made.   

Bonzai plum tree

As usual, the castle had its own garden, this time with a couple of lovely waterfalls.  The only blooms were on some old, bonzai plum trees -- quite special.