Introduction

Welcome to Japan Apprentice! This is my architectural blog documenting my summer field trip in Japan. It will consist of two parts: Part 1, introducing the main features of traditional Japanese architecture from a perspective that American audiences don’t hear much about. And Part 2, my apprenticeship, learning as much Japanese carpentry as I can on an actual renovation project from a master carpenter with over half a century of experience. Career-wise, I am currently planning to specialize in some branch of sustainable architecture, and look forward to building working relationships with both Japanese and American cultures.

It will be a two-month, two-stop trip, the first and shorter stop being a five-hundred-year-old Zen monastery in Fukui Prefecture, where my father trained for three years in the late 1970s. Temple and residential architecture do differ, but in light of this rare opportunity my first post will be a photo collection of the monastery’s features and building techniques, both inside and out.  

The remainder of the trip will be spent at my grandmother’s home in Satsuma, a small town about an hour north of Kagoshima, Kyushu’s southernmost core city. The hundred-year-old house is a virtual reference library of traditional architecture that I’ll no doubt draw heavily on for examples of the features discussed in Part 1 of each installment. Next door, conveniently enough, is the hillside cottage scheduled for renovation, the focus of Part 2 and my apprenticeship, as mentioned in “About.”

Part 1 will introduce the main features of traditional Japanese architecture in weekly installments that go below the surface to the historical and religious origins that rarely appear in conventional literature, then follow these up with shots of these features on actual houses around town.

Finally, my mother will be joining us for the final two weeks of the project, during which we’ve scheduled three road trips to well- known examples of traditional Japanese architecture in southern Kyushu that promise abundant material of interest: the samurai strongholds of Izumi Fumoto and Iriki Fumoto, and the Kareigawa Railway Station, that began operation in 1903.

Japan Apprentice is shaping up to be not just a rare opportunity, but one I eagerly anticipate as rich in learning experiences. I also hope that, through the blog, my account of the project proves both interesting and educational enough to hold readers’ interest for the duration of the journey.

Week 1: The First Week

I arrived at Haneda Airport from Dulles on May 24th after fourteen hours in the air, and headed for the Shin-Yokohama Prince Hotel (Fig. 1). Next morning, I boarded a shinkansen at Shin-Yokohama Station for Fukui Prefecture and Obama, where my father had trained in Zen meditation. I had been to Japan many times as a child, but this time, as an adult, my first impression focused on how clean and orderly the stations along the way were. There was no litter on the floors, and Japanese passengers moving to and from trains kept to the left in the corridors to minimize congestion.

I changed trains at Tsuruga for the last leg of the journey, an hour-long run that stopped at every station along the scenic coastline. It was still light out when I arrived around 5:00, and on the way to my hotel, I noticed that this was still the small, rural town that that my father had described to me for as long as I can remember. (Fig. 2)

Obama started out as a major seaport that received shipments of goods from China, some that have been dated back to the Kofun Period, ranging from 300 to 538 AD. In the Edo Period (1603 - 1868), it was the starting point of the saba-kaidō (mackerel highway) which was the main route for fish and other maritime products from the Sea of Japan to Kyoto, the former Japanese capital, and the emperor himself.  Obama is still famous for its fishing, but also makes 70% of the nation’s chopsticks. It has always been a popular summer tourist attraction due to its location on the ocean. I was, however, somewhat taken aback as I walked to my hotel at the number stores on main street that had permanently closed their shutters. I heard later that with the exodus of the younger generations leaving for the cities, it has become more and more commonplace for shops to shut down since the aging owners can no longer handle the business themselves and have no one to pass it down to.

I checked into my hotel, then headed back out to explore the town. The streets were mostly empty, but one thing I noticed was the prevalence of mixed zoning areas. Houses were not uncommon in shopping districts, with small shops and restaurants in residential areas. Buildings stood so close together (Fig. 3), in fact, that some streets looked like they were lined with one long structure on both sides. I later learned that, in the Edo period, taxes were assessed according to the footage of storefront property, so the crowding makes perfect sense.

The next morning, I took another walk, this time further from my hotel. Obama’s coastline twists and turns for miles, and my stroll along the beach ended long before the beach did. Later that day, I visited my main destination in Obama that I had been looking forward to for years: Hosshinji temple, where my father had spent three years in training. Not only did I want to see where he had begun his Zen journey, but I also wanted to study the temple’s architecture. I met the head monk—my father’s old friend and fellow trainee—who graciously showed me around. The temple was much larger than I had imagined, with the tour taking nearly two hours. 

Hosshinji (Fig. 4) was built in the early 1500s, although many additions have been made since. Still, even the newest sections are decades old, and yet the structure as a whole remains solid and stable. This is due, in part, to the fact that the temple was constructed without a single nail. Japanese carpentry, especially temple carpentry, focuses on using timber frame joints (Fig. 5) to assemble the frame without nails or other fasteners. Japan sits on multiple major fault lines and experiences many earthquakes each year, which makes this style of construction crucial for a building’s survival. The joints give the structure the flexibility to move with the quake, whereas rigidity would crack the wood under the stress of the lateral loads. (The benefits of wood and wooden joints will be discussed in greater detail in Week 3.)

After leaving the temple, I met one of my father’s friends, Taku, for dinner. He had grown up in Obama and had agreed to show me around for the weekend, so the next day we met at a coffee shop called Amando—one of my father’s favorite spots—and drove an hour down the coast to the village of Kurodani. This village is famous for its traditional washi paper, which is used for shoji sliding doors, among others. Unfortunately, the shop where the paper is made (Fig. 7) was closed, but the houses overlooking streams where tree bark was washed before becoming paper (Fig. 8, 9) and the old shrine we stumbled upon (Fig. 10) were worth the trip.

After driving back to Obama, Taku showed me the city, followed by a tour of the Angel Line (Fig. 11, 12), a scenic mountaintop drive with a panoramic view of Obama and the bay. The sun had just begun to set, creating a truly impressive seascape.

On my third and last day with Taku, we took a cruise around Uchitomi Peninsula in Obama Bay (Fig. 13), home of the Sotomo Arch (Fig. 14), a popular maritime attraction. Lone fishermen sat holding their poles on the huge, jagged boulders next to several large caves along the waterline (Fig. 15), some reported to extend through the entire peninsula. Our guide said many Obama residents had once made the treacherous climb up the near-vertical cliffs to gather medicinal herbs.

We ate lunch, and Taku headed back to Osaka. Later, I made my way to the final destination on my Obama itinerary—Sancho-machi (Fig. 16 - 18), the once red-light district of Obama. I felt transported back in time with my first steps along the rows of residences and geisha houses. The traditional facades remained largely untouched—little hint of the modern world. Interestingly enough, I found three temples on this street (Fig. 19), two of them facing each other from opposite sides of the road. Many Obama geishas lie interred in these temples.

Even though I had seen all of Obama that I planned to, it was still light out, so I walked to Obama Park, just around the corner from the hotel. I came upon a small stone pathway (Fig. 20) that led past a series of stone statues known as jizō (Fig. 22), made in the image of the Jizo Bosatsu, the Shinto guardian deity of children and travelers. These statues were placed along busy Edo period thoroughfares to protect the many pilgrims, samurai and wanderers on the roads.

The path gradually became so overgrown that I could barely pass, but eventually it led to a small graveyard. Up ahead I could see buildings and soon realized I had stumbled upon another temple. Its name was Kojoji (Fig. 23, 24) and, like Obama’s other temples, it looked enticing, but something told me the priests there might frown on me wandering the grounds unannounced at dusk. I snapped a few pictures, turned back up the trail and decided to call it a night.

That was my first week in Japan. From Obama, I’ll head for my grandmother’s house in Satsuma to begin my apprenticeship. Thanks for coming along, and I hope to see everyone again for Week 2!