Writers In Kyoto

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Authors who belong to Writers in Kyoto

Monks on My Mind

February 20, 2024 /

by Cody Poulton

On New Year’s Day in Kyoto my wife and I visited a friend in Fushimi. He is an architect and amateur soccer player who also happens also to be a Pure Land Buddhist priest. I discussed my interest in finding some old house in town to fix up and make liveable. But, of course, the costs involved in all that might be prohibitive. Takeda made me a proposal. If I were retiring and looking for a place to live, I could do worse than becoming a Pure Land priest: free temple, tax free living, funerals as fringe benefits. He gave me a little Pure Land breviary to get the hang of things. Back in Canada I told the story to a couple over dinner. “I always wanted to fuck a priest,” said my friend, before she was ushered swiftly out the door by her husband.
  
Heading north on Gokōmachi toward Marutamachi one night after dinner, my friend Mr. T and I discovered the “Terra Bar,” tucked into an old storehouse on the grounds of a temple. A warm and cosy refuge from the rain. The bartender was the priest, which was Pure Land sect. Enterprising fellows, these Pure Land bonzes! One of the customers sitting next to me told me she’d done a working holiday in Vancouver when she was younger. She was the priest’s wife. Things were fine until the priest did what priests do, and that was give a sermon. This one was on the rather macabre topic of how to dispose of human bodies in space. The priest is a member of a study circle called the “research group on cosmic ethics,” which consists of fifteen students and sixteen teachers. What if you die in space? You can’t get cremated, nor can they bury you. Eject you from your spaceship and your corpses will follow your vessel in orbit, like a loyal dog. Imagine looking out the porthole and seeing Bob out there, tagging along. Since resources are precious, would your body be transformed into food or fuel? How would people feel about that? I watched T grow more depressed as he drank his Corona. We got the hell out of Terra Bar as fast as we could.

Monks on my mind … Downstairs from where I live, there is an izakaya run by a cool and witty couple who serve food that has put them on the Michelin Guide. The okamisan seats me next to a burly guy with a buzzcut who, in short order, tells me he has in-laws coming from Israel, Holland, and Colombia for the holidays. He has three daughters and they married men from three different countries and settled there. He asks me the usual questions. How long have I been in Japan? How old am I? What I do for a living? etc. I reciprocate. It turns out he’s chief priest of Myōkenji, one of the neighbourhood temples. He told me his dream of setting up a piano in the hondō for people to play.
“You know how they put pianos at stations for anyone to come play? ‘Eki-piano,’ they call it. I want to make a ‘tera piano.’”
“Rhymes with therapy,” I said. “Go for it!”

A little later, a bald-pated younger man enters and sits down beside him. He’s the priest of Myōkakuji, just up the road from Urasenke country. Both are Nichiren temples, and the priest of Myōkenji introduced the priest of Myōkakuji as his “disciple” (deshi). Both temples have deep ties to Ogata Kōrin and the Rinpa artists, as well as to the Senke Tea schools, both Ura and Omote. Oda Nobunaga used Myōkakuji as a hotel whenever he was in Kyoto. (That is until Honnōji—bad move, Nobunaga!) The disciple said he knew his master had come to Wasabi because his bicycle was parked outside. He makes regular rounds (manben naku!) of all the local pubs. I am constantly running into him in one watering hole or another.
Master Oikawa (Oi-chan for short), the priest of Myōkenji, is 78 and looks like a sumo wrestler. He said he is often mistaken for a Mongolian. The disciple said approvingly that Oikawa was fit and sturdy from a life on the mats doing judō. That’s why he was still riding a bike at his age.

Oi-chan took off, leaving the disciple with me. By this point, I’m ready to head home too, so I ask for the bill. “You don’t happen to know a pastor, do you?” asks the okamisan. “I run a bridal business on the side and we’re short of them.” I tell her I just happen to know one, an Anglican, in Ashiya. He and I were high school classmates and we both ended up in Japan. “Here’s my card. Give me a wankiri (a ring and hang up ),” she said, in order to register my private phone number. “I do weddings at the railway museum, the aquarium, and the Franco-Japanese Cultural Centre,” she said. “But we’re short of priests. I don’t suppose he’s Protestant, is he?” she asked. I assured her he was.

In a bonze-ridden town, pastors are in short supply.

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For more of Cody’s work in English, see his Palm-of-the-Hand Story, or his account of being In Transit between Canada and Kyoto, or a description by Rebecca Otowa of his lunchtime talk about Japanese theatre.

Here follows a Japanese translation of Monks on My Mind.

「気になる坊主ども」

Cody Poulton

Part I.

こんな夢を見た。
人の集まりに行ったら、誰も赤の他人だった。飼っているペットも初対面。誰かの子猫に噛まれた。次は違う人の犬に噛まれた。最後に誰かの山羊はしっかりと僕の手を噛み突いてなかなか離さなかった途端、覚めた。すぐ妻にその夢を語ると、彼女は「私や！その山羊」、と。

元旦に伏見へ友達のお宅を訪れた。友達は建設の設計士の傍らに、浄土真宗のお寺の住職を務めている。趣味はサッカー。僕は町屋をリフォームして京都に楽隠居しようかという話をした。ただ、セカンドハウスを買う余裕がないのかと悩むと、彼は「こうしたら、お金がかからないよ。坊主になったら、まずお寺をもらう。税金も掛からへん。おまけにお葬式でお小遣いが貯まる。」坊主になるための宿題として『浄土宗日常勤業式』という経本をくれた。
　　帰国したらある晩友達にその話をした。彼らが帰る時に、「神父でもいい、坊主でもいいーずっと前からああいう方を抱きたかったの！」と彼女が言い出したら、旦那に玄関からさっさと連れられて去ってしまった。

ある夜食後に友達との帰りに御幸町を丸太町へ向かうと、お寺の玄関に蔵があった。その中に賑やかな飲み屋の気配がした。バーテンはその寺の住職。ようやるな、浄土真宗の坊ん（ぼん）さん！と思った。入ってみたらこじんまりな、明るい風景。お客さんは五、六人かな。みなさんはウエルコム。一人の女の人は若い頃バンクーバーでワーホリをやった。彼女はその坊主の妻。面白い団欒だと思ったら、坊主は坊主で、いよいよお説教が始まった。最近この坊さんは「宇宙倫理学研究会」の会員になった。その中に学生は１５人で先生はなんと１６人。変な研究会。この間こういう話があった。
宇宙飛行士は宇宙で死んだらその遺体の後始末をどうする、という問題。埋葬はもちろん、火葬も無理。宇宙船から放り出すと、そのまま宇宙船を愛犬のように着いていく。窓から「太郎がそこに」といつも思い出させてくれる。宇宙に材料はとても貴重だ。それなら、その屍を燃料で燃やすか、それとも食べるのか、という討論。
　　これを聞いたら、我が友はますます鬱になることに気がついた。僕は「行こうよ」と言い、二人でそのまま「お寺バー」を逃げた。

気になる坊主ども。僕の住んでいるマンションのすぐ下に居酒屋がある。大将と女将さんはとっても気さくなペアーでおばんざいが美味しい。ある晩女将さんは頭が丸坊主で体が頑丈なおじさんの隣に僕を座らせた。その男は年末にイスラエルからとオランダから、そしてコロンビアからの子供たちと孫たちを迎えると僕に述べた。大変です！みんなそれぞれ言葉が違う。彼の子供は７人の中に娘３人は外国の人と嫁いだのだ。彼の名前は及川さんー愛称は「おいちゃん」。
　　おいちゃんは近所の妙顕寺の住職。これからお寺でやってみたいのは本堂にピアノを置くこと。「駅ピアノって聞いたことがあるやろ？俺は「寺ピアノ」を提供したいのです。近所の人がいつでも自由に弾けるように」と言った。
　　「寺ピアノ？テラピーにかけて聞こえがいいね。是非やるべき！」
　　その後、もう一人の坊主が店に入って隣に座った。彼は近くの妙覚寺の住職でおいちゃんの弟子。妙顕寺と妙覚寺はご存知かも知れないが、日蓮宗のお寺なのだ。どっちも表千家、裏千家の今日庵付近でお茶と深い縁がある。戦国時代に織田信長は妙覚寺をホテルのように使った。妙覚寺の住職の林さんはおいちゃんの自転車が店の前で置いたのを見て先生が入っていることが分かった。おいちゃんは毎晩のように満遍なく近所の飲み屋巡りをしているのだ。がっしりした体型のおいちゃんは昔から柔道をやっているので、７８歳の割に元気なお爺さんだ。
　　おいちゃんがそろそろ飲み終わって帰ろうとすると、僕も会計を頼んだ。「コーディさんは牧師を知らない？」と女将さんに聞かれた。僕はたまたま高校時代の同級生が芦屋で日本聖公会の牧師をやっているから紹介します、と彼女に答えた。彼女は自分の名詞を差し上げて、「この電話番号です。ワン切りして交換しよう。」と言った。彼女は昼の間京都の水族館や鉄道博物館や日仏文化会館などで結婚式や披露宴を企画しているが、この坊主まみれの町に牧師は珍しい。

Authors who belong to Writers in Kyoto

A Discussion with Rebecca Otowa: Artist, Writer, Musician (by Karen Lee Tawarayama)

January 30, 2024 /

Papa Jon’s Café Rokkaku, January 13th, 2024

Writers In Kyoto aims not only to bring together members of the local literary community to focus on writing, but also to support each other’s activities. WiK member Rebecca Otowa exhibited her watercolor paintings between January 10th and 15th at Papa Jon’s Café Rokkaku in downtown Kyoto, a venue well-known for providing exhibition space for local artists, as well as a place for Writers in Kyoto (WiK) meetings. On January 13th, Rebecca was present to welcome visitors and answer questions, and some WiK members came in to enjoy her company and a slice of the café’s delicious cheesecake. Rebecca spoke with me about her paintings and creative process, and some of her direct answers are shared below.

Rebecca is known not only for her literary works but also her mesmerizing images, created mainly with Holbein watercolors (directly from the tube) and aquarelle pencils. From 2011 to the present, she has been particularly productive, having created and preserved approximately fifty pictures. This exhibition at Papa Jon’s is Rebecca’s third, with two others having taken place in and around her town in eastern Shiga Prefecture.

Myxomycetes (Watercolor, 2020), one painting which was on display, is an abstract and colored version of tiny fungi (also called “slime mold”), which live in forest networks. Rebecca became fascinated by their existence when visiting the Wakayama Prefecture-based museum of renowned Japanese naturalist Kumagusu Minakata. This painting, as well as another titled Fun with Kanji II Enjoyment (Watercolor, 2012), have various colorful patterns within outlined shapes, a technique Rebecca often uses. As the creative process unfolds, Rebecca largely allows the image itself to guide her, instead of leading with preconceived ideas.

Myxomycetes (2020)

Café Scene and Fun with Kanji II Enjoyment (2012)

Another strong focus of Rebecca’s work is the four elements of Western philosophy: fire, earth, water and air.

“I’ve made a lot of mandala, all based on four elements. Because there are four elements and four seasons, this lends itself very well to square paper because you have a shape which you can divide into four. One of the first pictures I made was a mandala of four elements based on Mexican art. That was an inspiration I got from a Kyoto Journal exhibition of yarn art by the Huichol Indians of Mexico, but I used paint instead of yarn, with the same visual elements. I also love geometry. Anything that has something to do with geometry is something that I like to play around with. For me, geometry comes from the natural world. You look at plants – you look at the way that stems go, or the way the flowers are set up. All of it is geometrical. It’s very interesting to discover that, and to bring it into your life, as just a fun thing to think about. Also geometric progressions – how a circle becomes a triangle, and how a triangle becomes a pentagram. These things were figured out by the early Greek mathematicians Pythagoras and Euclid. They set up the rules for how you can get from one shape to another. With colors too – I like to notice the difference between very small gradations of color. When I’m painting, I think, a little bit bluer, a little bit redder, or a little bit yellower. Sometimes I mix them, sometimes I use them straight. I have a feeling it has something to do with some sort of mathematics, but it’s just really fun to watch that process.”

Rebecca explained how another painting, “Down the Rabbit Hole” (Watercolor, 2015), demonstrates spiritual themes through a process of unfolding. Merging colors form different levels of being, with the center being the lowest and densest of all, the material world in which we live. Rebecca demonstrates this through the symbolic use of color gradations.

“Some of the things grow out of ideas or some of the things I learned. For example, with color there are the primary, secondary, and tertiary colors, and before that is black and white. In a certain thought system those combinations of colors gradually represent different worlds. Black, grey, and white represent the top and the primary colors represent primary energies. They mix together to form the secondary colors, which mix again to form the tertiary colors, which is where we are, at the bottom. “Down the Rabbit Hole” starts with black, grey, and white around the outside and sort of edges in towards the material world. I was taught that this material world of ours is the densest and lowest of all the worlds, where we’re always interacting with material things. For example, these days I’m always dropping things on the floor. I think, ‘Oh, there goes that pencil again.’ That’s gravity. That’s a material thing that we have to figure out how to handle in our lives. It’s all part of the material world where we live. This material world is very rigid and seems inflexible. Take stones on a wall, for example. Physicists tell us that within the stones there is lots of space between the atoms, but the reality is that if I bump into that wall, I’m going to hurt myself. Human beings are always encountering this material stuff. Now I have to take my coat off, now I have to put my gloves on, now I have to take my shoes off, now I have to do this or that. I think it’s a tremendous lesson for us to deal with this particular kind of world.”

Rebecca with Down the Rabbit Hole (2015)

The themes in Rebecca’s boldly colored work are often drawn from dreams, visions, and her past studies in spirituality and the occult. The Pilgrim (Watercolor, 2013) was inspired by the Omi Shonin (traveling merchants) of the Edo Period. At the upper left is a Middle Eastern hamsa (protective charm), and at the bottom right corner is a Man in the Maze motif from the indigenous culture of the southwestern United States. Another framed work, Corn Maiden (Watercolor, 2014), has a painted image of three Hopi kachina dolls: sun mask (left), rain dance Longhair (right) and Corn Maiden (center). In the center of the Corn Maiden’s robe is a Glass Gems corn cob, which Rebecca grew in her own garden and patiently took time to paint kernel by kernel, so accurately portrayed that it gives the impression of a photograph. The painting’s concept is that of a ritual drum with decorations of feathers and motifs. “In the cultures of the Southwest US,” Rebecca writes, “corn is sacred and corn flour is said to have been used to fashion the first human beings.”

The Pilgrim (2013)

Corn Maiden (2014)

During our discussion, I became curious to know if, as a successful writer, Rebecca applies the concept of “unfolding” to her own storytelling, in explaining her characters’ thought processes and feelings. Also, does she feel that creating art, whether through writing, painting, or her long-time experience of playing musical instruments help Rebecca transcend the seemingly rigid world to a higher awareness or consciousness? After all, we need to make use of the physical world – our bodies, our hands, our brains – to create art.

“It’s similar. It’s a kind of building. The things that I paint are, quite often, things that make me think of something besides what’s in the material world, and some of them are delving deeper into the material world. You’d go deeper and you can find places in there that are not so rigid, not so complicated. There’s a simplicity underneath all of this stuff. you have to use a material thing to get something that’s not material. When a musician is a very good musician, or an artist, or a writer is very good, the art seems to lift itself up from the material equipment that one needs, like a musical instrument or notes on a page, and it goes higher. It goes somewhere else. And that’s a really amazing experience. Maybe you feel like you want to draw something more complicated, But you are not in control. I think that control is actually irrelevant. It’s a power. It’s channeling. You have to use your hands and your eyes. You have to use various physical things in order to get there. That’s the reality. That’s the place where you go in… and then you go up.”

My personal favorite amongst the paintings which were displayed is The Transformer (Watercolor, 2016). As described by Rebecca, this picture “shows how the sun takes the strong energy of the Universe and transforms it into a form that can be used by living things on Earth. It is based on the Kabbalah Tree of Life.”

The Transformer (Watercolor, 2016)

Thanks to Rebecca for sharing her insights and her paintings. We look forward to more of her artistic expressions, in a variety of mediums, in the future.

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Rebecca Otowa is the author of The Mad Kyoto Shoe Swapper, At Home in Japan, My Awesome Japan Adventure, and the creator of 100 Objects in My Japanese House. Her many contributions to the Writers in Kyoto website can be read at this link.

Karen Lee Tawarayama can also be found here and there on the WiK website.

Papa Jon’s Café Rokkaku: 115 Horinouecho, Nakagyo Ward, Kyoto 604-8117

Writers in focus

Garrison Island (by Stephen Mansfield)

January 28, 2024 /

Monochrome images capture the stark realities of Okinawa’s vassal status.

Stephen Mansfield is a Japan-based writer and photographer, one of the leading contributors about contemporary Japan, and a reviewer for The Japan Times. He is the author of 20 books, and his work has appeared in more than 60 magazines, newspapers and journals worldwide.  This photo essay appears in the January 2024 edition of the Number 1 Shimbun (the online monthly magazine of FCCJ, the Foreign Correspondents Club of Japan).

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Guesthouse owner, Masashi Miyagi. Kunigami. © Stephen Mansfield

Visiting Okinawa, a garrison island and holiday destination, can seem like being teleported back to Japan’s agitprop heyday of the late 1960s. Located on the outer periphery of the archipelago, it is part of the modern state but, due to its complicated history, occupies an ambiguous place in the country’s psyche.

The late Masahide Ota, a former governor of Okinawa, insisted that its history was “essentially that of a poor ethnic group at the southernmost tip of the Japanese archipelago, expendable whenever national powers felt it necessary for their larger purposes”. A resurgent pride in island identity, reinforced by challenges to Japanese historical narrative, conflicts with a continued and burdensome U.S. military presence.

The unflappable conviction expressed by young U.S. recruits in their mission, yoked to a strong sense of entitlement, is a reminder that indoctrination is not confined to the training camps of the Peshawar Valley, the terror cells of Mogadishu, or the classrooms of North Korea.

Okinawan photographer and activist, Mao Ishikawa, who is drawn to persistent themes of identity and occupation, believes that historical relations between Okinawans and the Japanese are similar to those between black and white people. On the subject of her own ethnicity, Ishikawa affirms that she is, “not Japanese but an Okinawan”. It is from this firm cultural grounding that her photography draws its strength and inspiration.

My own trips to the islands over the years have provided me with the opportunity to return to an early interest in black-and-white photography.

Okinawa represents – more than any other region of Japan – stark social, political and visual dualities that lend themselves to this more somber, monochromatic depiction. 

Statue of Liberty at the American Village in Chatan. © Stephen Mansfield

Crafting a shisa, or Okinawan guardian lion dog. © Stephen Mansfield

Derelict U.S. fighter plane. Motobu peninsula. © Stephen Mansfield

The late Misako Oshiro, one of Okinawa’s greatest singers. © Stephen Mansfield

Recycle shop storage cage along Route 58. © Stephen Mansfield

Members of a protest movement in Henoko. © Stephen Mansfield

Roadside store advertising. © Stephen Mansfield

To read more from and about Stephen Mansfield on the Writers in Kyoto website, please refer to a list of former posts at this link.

Writings about Kyoto, whether by Japanese or foreign observers

Bin Ueda, Professor and Translator

January 19, 2024 /

by Yuki Yamauchi

When Lafcadio Hearn taught English literature at Tokyo Imperial University (the current University of Tokyo), he praised a certain undergraduate as “the only one that can express himself in English among 10,000 Japanese students.”

The prodigy worth such high praise was Bin Ueda. Born in 1874 at Tsukiji, Tokyo, he enriched his knowledge at Tokyo Eigo Gakko (Tokyo English School) and the First Higher School (precursor of University of Tokyo and Chiba University), before entering the top university in Japan.

Remarkably Ueda had a good command of French, German and Spanish as well as English, and he began to rise to fame after graduation. He came out with Kaicho-on (The Sound of the Sea Tide), a collection of translations of works by French poet Paul Verlaine, German poet Carl Busse and English writers such as William Shakespeare and Robert Browning.

In 1908, he was appointed to be a professor at Kyoto Imperial University, the current Kyoto University. Initially, he stayed at Shigaraki, a ryokan that stood near the Sanshi Suimeisho arbor in Kamigyo-ku, and afterward settled in the northern vicinity of Heian Jingu.

Ueda was one of the earliest readers of Jun’ichiro Tanizaki, and invited the novelist in 1912 when he was on a business trip to Kyoto. The professor was recollected by the literary giant about two decades later:

Judging from the erudition shown in my favorite books of his, such as Shisei Dante [Ueda’s translations of the poetry of Dante], I imagined that he must look like a very aged and fashionable Western professor. Apart from his dark moustache, however, [Bin Ueda] Sensei looked like neither a typical scholar nor a typical man of letters. Rather, he appeared to be either the owner of a large store in shitamachi (old downtown area) or a proper gentleman like a merchant.
― Extract from Seishun Monogatari (My Adolescent Days) by Jun’ichiro Tanizaki

Tanizaki in 1913

Meanwhile, Ueda was such a strong magnet for bibliophiles that some students enrolled in Kyoto Imperial University just to listen to his lectures. Among the listeners was Yoshio Yamanouchi, who, in later years, formed a friendship with French diplomat Paul Claudel as well as translating André Gide’s Strait is the Gate (La Porte Étroite) into Japanese.

Another remarkable student of Ueda was Kan Kikuchi, who later founded the publishing company Bungei Shunju. The professor greatly supported Kikuchi with his research on Irish playwright John Millington Synge.

The distinguished scholar must have been expected to assist up-and-coming students for more years to come. However, illness dashed his hopes; he had a fit during the end-stage of renal disease in July, 1916, which claimed his life. He was only 41 years old.

Ueda’s passing was mourned by his academic colleagues and former students. For example, one of his juniors sorrowfully conveyed the distressing news as follows:

[Bin Ueda] Sensei was practically the most precious figure amongst present-day Japanese. The loss of Sensei is the loss of a greater part of Kyoto Imperial University’s raison d’etre.
― Extract from ‘Ueda Bin Sensei no Koto’ (Regarding Professor Bin Ueda) by Kan Kikuchi (1916)

Indeed Ueda’s sudden death caused an enormous shock, but Kyoto Imperial University successfully handed on its academic torch by inviting professors such as Tatsuo Kuriyagawa and Edward Bramwell Clarke.

Ueda rests in Yanaka Cemetery in Tokyo. Like the capital, Kyoto has lost many of the places associated with the professor. That said, if you visit the vicinity of Keage Incline, you can find a good reminder: Hyotei is a 400-year-old restaurant, where the professor went with Tanizaki and his friend Mikihiko Nagata, lyricist of the song ‘Gion Kouta’. The elegant dining establishment is for sure the place to go if you hope to enjoy the way Ueda spent time with his friends.

Links to the photos:
Photo of Bin Ueda
Photo of Jun’ichiro Tanizaki in 1913

A Bowl of Tea in Kyoto

January 11, 2024 /

WiK Members Enjoyed a New Year’s Bowl of Tea – Jan. 7, 2024
Written by Rebecca Otowa
Photos by Karen Lee Tawarayama and Kirsty Kawano

Four guests from WiK were guided by fellow member Bruce Hamana (Hamana Sosei sensei), a tea master born in Hawaii, and teacher of the Urasenke tea school, to a New Year’s celebratory tea gathering at Tenki, a large and sumptuous tempura restaurant near Senbon Imadegawa, Kyoto, which has a garden and tea house complex. Bruce had been supervising and making tea all day there with his students, one of whom, Minami Okawa, joined us in the tea room as Bruce’s assistant.

            Bruce has worked at Urasenke in various capacities for years, and has served as an ambassador around the world, demonstrating and explaining tea. He now has various groups of students and also “teaches the teachers” how to explain about tea in English. He is the author of 100 Beautiful Words in the Way of Tea (Tankosha 2020), an English guide to poetic seasonal names and expressions used in the tearoom, with plenty of information about them. He is presently working on a book about the 72 Japanese micro-seasons.

We were led through the garden, replete with winter beauty, briefly into another room, to view a traditional New Year decoration which replaced the more usual kagami-mochi with large pieces of charcoal, and had many other symbolic features including the daidai citrus fruit, whose name can also mean “from generation to generation” and signifies the continuation of life and tradition, bridging the New Year period to the next year. A preliminary treat was the serving of hanabira-mochi, a special New Year sweet made with burdock root and miso, many tastes at once, which is particular to Urasenke.  

Purifying ourselves at the tsukubai, a small stone basin, in the garden, we entered the tearoom in the traditional manner through the nijiriguchi, a small square door which must be crawled through, meaning that social differences drop away, and inside the tea room everyone is equal. Bruce had thoughtfully provided small stools for us to sit on, so we did not have to endure the discomfort of the more traditional floor posture known as seiza. This was very considerate, but gave me a stab of regret that due to uncooperative knees, I was no longer able to participate in a tea gathering in the usual way, including receiving the bowl of tea and viewing the utensils afterward, which were difficult from stool level. Bruce and his students were very friendly and caring, allowing us, even though we were not sitting on the floor as is customary, to participate with a few little changes and enjoy ourselves to the full.

The room was small and intimate, and very dim, which made a pleasant change from the brightly-lit environments of everyday. Bruce made the tea with very little fuss, speaking about various things, including instructing us on what to do, not so much the order of the ceremony, which was obviously for him secondary to putting the guests at ease and answering questions. It was a treat for me to watch such an unobtrusive tea ceremony without the usual “Sensei, what do I do now?” which is prevalent in tea classes. Bruce’s mastery allowed us to feel peaceful, and chased away any feeling of being nervous because of unfamiliarity with the procedure. He led us with a gentle and sure hand through the intricacies of being guests at a tea gathering.

The tokonoma was decorated with a camellia bud and shuttlecock-shaped plant in a Chinese formal metal vase, and sweeping branches of willow, one of which was tied in a loose knot. The scroll had the four characters of wakei seijaku (harmony, respect, purity, and tranquility) – characteristics not only of tea, but of traditional Japanese culture as a whole.  The tea was made in front of a formal old-style cabinet, which had a decoration of writing materials on top. We guests were charmed with the serving of dry sweets in small folded boxes, celebratory red and gold in color, and with the variety of interesting bowls in which we received the tea, a few mouthfuls of hot, bubbly moss-green matcha.

After drinking the tea (with some second serves!), the conversation turned to Bunraku, the puppet theatre, where Minami-san works, and she told us of a possible tour of the backstage which may be offered to WiK members later in the year. Watch this space!

Special thanks to Hamana sensei for allowing us to share in this special day, and also to Kirsty Kawano, who helped organize WiK’s participation. It was a telling reminder that there are many ways to experience Kyoto’s beauty, and that Writers in Kyoto is home to many talented people who, not only by writing but in other ways, widen the horizons of all who seek to share this beauty.

Writers in focus

Alan Watts (part five)

January 5, 2024 /

One of the foremost Western celebrities with a particular connection to Kyoto was British philosopher and entertainer, Alan Watts. He has appeared previously on this blog in a 4-part series extracted from his autobiography, but a 2012 biography sheds a different light on the man and adds some further insight into his attachment to Kyoto. In Zen Effects: The Life of Alan Watts (p.172-3), Monica Furlong writes…

During the years 1960-1965 Alan Watts visited Japan two or three times a year, escorting tourists to Kyoto. He was helped in the practical chores of tour guiding by Gary Snyder, who had extensive knowledge of the country; installed in his monastery, he sorted out accommodation and currency problems for Watts and gave him a welcome bolt-hole from the responsibility of looking after his charges. Snyder was by this time advanced enough in Zen studies to be able to discuss some of the things Watts was curious about, such as what went on in the silence of a Zen monastery, for example, and how the system was structured. Snyder introduced Watts to his roshi and to some of the head priests, and arranged for him to attend lectures at the monastery, as well as some of the ceremonies, which Watts enjoyed tremendously.

Snyder was not his only contact in the city, for Watts also knew Ruth Fuller Sasaki to whose daughter he had been married. She had taken over an unused subtemple in Daitoku-ji and was well established (see here). During the 1960s Watts gradually loosened up from the British reserve with which he had arrived in California. He took LSD with Timothy Leary and was influenced by the hippie movement. ‘I got to like him more and more, even though I realized he was getting naughtier and naughtier.’ says Snyder. Along with his womanising went an increasing use of alcohol, to the extent that he became an alcoholic.

Watts spoke only a little Japanese, enough to order taxis and order food, but he felt at home in Kyoto. He was fascinated by the tea ceremony and liked to browse shops for materials for ‘ink and brush meditation’. His favourite place was Teramachi with its array of small shops selling antiques, tea items, Buddhist goods and calligraphy accessories. On one of his visits, he came with his newly-wed third wife, Jane, and together they meditated on the forested slope behind Nanzen-ji. On another occasion they took LSD together, serving each other in sake cups in the manner of a sacrament.

**********************

To read more about other celebrities connected with Kyoto, please see the following:

David Bowie

Edward Bramwell Clarke (pioneer of rugby)

Lafcadio Hearn (six stories)

Isabella Bird

Gary Snyder

Nanao Sasaki

Daniel Ellsberg

Nicolas Bouvier

(Charlie Chaplin’s visit to Kyoto is covered in Donald Richie’s The Honorable Visitors, p.105. David Kidd, William Gilbey and Harold Stewart are covered by Alex Kerr in a piece for Echoes, the WiK Anthology no. 2, page 55-62, published in 2017.)

To learn about the love of Steve Jobs for Kyoto, see here. For his love of woodblock prints, see here. For his love of Japanese ceramics, see here.

To read how Henry Stimson saved Kyoto from atomic destruction, see this BBC piece.

WiK bonenkai 2023

December 12, 2023 /

Writers in Kyoto, Words & Music Bōnenkai, Dec. 10th
Report by Mark Willis

Photos by Kirsty Kawano and John Dougill


Pulling open the door to Irish Pub Gnome at six o’clock on December 10th, I found the basement pub already filled with writers, readers, singers, and listeners gathered for the Writers in Kyoto Words & Music bōnenkai.

I left my daypack on an empty chair, and joined the line at the bar, studying the food and drink menu, while those ahead of me placed their orders for Guinness and shepherd’s pie, red wine and vegetable gratin.


At six-thirty, Kirsty Kawano, the event’s organizer and MC, welcomed a packed house and introduced the first presenter, John Dougill.

John read a section from his recently published book, Off the Beaten Tracks in Japan. He recounted his early days in Kanazawa, and when he described his early missteps with Japanese language and culture, some of us recalled our own first stumbles in the country.

One of two presenters in the evening who chose music over words, Yasuo Nagai sang a cappella an original song of his about the power which memories have on us — those memories that haunt and hold us.

From They Never Knew, Mike Freiling read senryū written in 1942 by Japanese Americans who were being held in a detention center in Portland, Oregon, awaiting transfer to permanent camps. Depicting the anxiety the writers felt, the poems also were occasionally humorous.

Daniel Sofer read from his book of photos on Empty Kyoto

Having chosen to stay in Kyoto when international borders closed due to the pandemic, Daniel Sofer told us how he began to take photos of the tourist-free city which were then compiled in Empty Kyoto. He shared text and photos from his book.

On the Irish pub’s upright piano, Malcolm Ledger played a piece he had recently composed and which was warmly received and applauded. He invited the audience to take a look at his YouTube channel for more of his music.

During the break, WiK members lined up at the bar to order another glass of red wine or pint of Guinness, and mingled, catching up with friends and making new ones until Kirsty announced the start of the second set.

James Woodham, ‘the bard of Biwako’, reads one of his poems.

James Woodham traveled from Shiga to join the bōnenkai, and he read poems inspired by a wide range of topics, from reading Sylvia Plath to a late night out in Kyoto to drones. His advice to us was to “empty the mind and write down what comes out.

Ken Rogers’s reading about taking part in Wesak at Kurama-dera was a preview of a piece written for Kyoto Journal 107 (Fire & Kyoto), which will be published in the spring of 2024, in print. Before that, however, a digital issue on cultural transformations, KJ 106, will be created.

Mayumi Kawaharada read in English, her haiku adorned with awe-inspiring natural imagery — “rain’s golden strings” and “bell cricket chorus.” My personal favorite (and this is a guess at the line breaks) was — “Two vapor trails glow / in the clear blue sky / New Year’s.”

Playing cajón and soprano saxophone, Ted Taylor and Gary Tegler performed jazz improvisations built on the seasonal song “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen.” Ted also read from his writings about how he’d come to Japan following in the fictional footsteps of the character Japhy Ryder in Dharma Bums.

Impro maestro Gary Tegler plays sax with Ted Taylor accompanying

Although the microphone was offered to anyone else wanting to read or sing, no one took the offer, and instead tabs were settled, contact info exchanged, and promises made to read or sing at the next Words & Music event, and I left the pub to make my way home through the December night.

********************

A round of applause goes to Kirsty Kawano for organizing the event and ensuring that it ran smoothly. Also thanks to the owners of Irish Pub Gnome, Yuko and Tatsuya Shirasaka, and to their serving staff, including Joseph Wright. And a special thanks goes to those WiK members who volunteered to share with us their words and music.

Excerpts from the following books were read at December’s Words & Music:
John Dougill, Off the Beaten Tracks in Japan: A Journey by Train from Hokkaido to Kyushu
Mike Freiling, They Never Knew: Senryu Poetry from the WWII Portland Assembly Center
Daniel Sofer, Empty Kyoto


Writers in focus

Cold Waterfall

December 10, 2023 /

by Stephen Benfey

Kazu sat in the freezing waterfall beside the white-bearded yamabushi. The mountain priest’s temple lay below. Kazu knew it from hikes in Kyoto’s hills with his high-school mountaineering club.

He’d sought refuge here three months ago, in November. Heartbreak had sent him, and fear.

It was her smile. Every time his co-worker Emi at the department store smiled, his love deepened.

“We’re soulmates,” Kazu said, one day, “tied by a red thread.”

“You’re an interesting person,” she said. Kazu’s heart froze. Emi’s smiles weren’t for him. They were a sales tool.

The panic attacks started soon after.

The yamabushi had no other acolytes. No sermons, no talk at all. Kazu cleaned, washed, cooked, and foraged for sansai —wild roots, greens, mushrooms. Maybe he’d catch a yamame trout, dredge it in salt, and broil it over glowing embers.

When he wasn’t working or sleeping Kazu meditated with the old man. The falling water smoothed and rounded the sharp shards of his heart. Heijoshin, equanimity, grew to fill the cavern of unrequited love.

For twenty minutes each morning they’d sit under the waterfall. But today seemed longer, much longer. Kazu stole a glance. The old priest’s head lolled sideways, cheek cupped in hand —Buddha enlightened —legs frozen in full lotus.

The local villagers insisted that Kazu leave immediately. He’d be a homicide suspect when the police showed up. They gave him fresh clothes, a bus ticket, and a bento for the once-daily ride back to Kyoto.

As the bus turned onto Shijo Dori in front of the department store, Kazu looked out the window, wondering. His heart had healed. Could his relationship with Emi mend as well? She wasn’t the person he thought she was. And now, neither was he.

**********************

Stephen Benfey’s homepage with examples of his short stories can be found here. For his short story on gardening and rocks, see here. For a New Year story, click here. For his piece on foxes, see here. For Gaijin’s Redemption, click here. For his short story titled Tofu, see here.

Writers in Kyoto Present the Ninth Annual Kyoto Writing Competition

November 26, 2023 /

◆ THEME: Kyoto (English language submissions only)
◆ DEADLINE: March 31st, 2024 (23:59 JST)
◆ GENRE: Short Shorts (unpublished material only)
◆ WORD LIMIT: 300 Words (to fit on a single page)
◆ FORM: Short poems, character studies, essays, travel tips, whimsy, haiku sequence, haibun, wordplays, dialogue, experimental verse, etc. In short, anything that helps show the spirit of place in a fresh light. A clear connection to Kyoto is essential.

SUBMISSION REQUIREMENTS

● Limited to one submission per person
● You do not need to be located in Kyoto to participate. We accept submissions
from anywhere in the world.
● Must be submitted by Microsoft Word attachment file. Submissions by PDF
attachment and submissions within the body of the email will not be accepted.
● At the top of the Microsoft Word attachment (not in the body of the email),
please include the following personal information: Full Name, E-mail Contact,
Nationality, Current Residence (Town, Country).
● Do not provide any special formatting to your piece. We request your personal
information at the top with the plain text directly below. Submissions in [Times New Roman, 12pt] are preferred.
● Please send your Microsoft Word attachment file to:  kyotowritingcompetition2024@gmail.com
● Submissions which do not have the author’s personal address at the top of the attachment file, are not submitted in MS Word format, or are submitted with special formatting will not be considered for judging.
● Submission in multiple competition years is welcome. However, eligibility for each prize is on a one-time basis only.

TOP PRIZES

Kyoto City Mayoral Prize
¥50,000 cash prize, The Nature of Kyoto (Writers in Kyoto Anthology 5), One-year complimentary WiK membership (April 2024-March 2025), a complimentary space in an upcoming Book Proposal Masterclass (valued at £679, or more than 120,000 JPY) by Beth Kempton (WiK Member and Author of books including Wabi Sabi: Japanese Wisdom for a Perfectly Imperfect Life and The Way of the Fearless Writer), publication on the WiK website, and inclusion in a future WiK Anthology

Yamabuki* Prize (awarded to the national of a country in which English is an official language)
The Nature of Kyoto (Writers in Kyoto Anthology 5), publication on the WiK website, and inclusion in a future WiK Anthology

Unohana* Prize (awarded to the national of a country in which English is not an official language)
The Nature of Kyoto (Writers in Kyoto Anthology 5), publication on the WiK website, and inclusion in a future WiK Anthology

* Yamabuki (Japanese yellow rose) and Unohana (Deutzia) are flowers appearing in haiku.

OTHER PRIZES

Writers in Kyoto Member Prize
A book of the winner’s choice authored by another WiK member and publication on the WiK website

Japan Local Prize
A selected ceramic piece from the Robert Yellin Yakimono Gallery and publication on the WiK website

USA Prize
Uncrating the Japanese House (Junzo Yoshimura, Antonin and Noemi Raymond, and George Nakashima), a one-year complimentary membership to the Japan-America Society of Greater Philadelphia, and publication on the WiK website

PUBLISHING RIGHTS/COPYRIGHT

Writers in Kyoto reserve the right to publish entries on the group’s website. The top three winners will be eligible for publication in a future WiK Anthology. All authors retain the copyright of their own work.

SUPPORTERS

In addition to the aforementioned entities, the Writers in Kyoto Ninth Annual Writing Competition is supported by the Kyoto City Cultural Office, Kyoto City International Foundation (kokoka), and Kyoto Journal.

The WiK Competition logo was designed by Rebecca Otowa, author and illustrator of 100 Objects in My Japanese House (2023), At Home in Japan (Tuttle 2010), My Awesome Japan Adventure (2013), and The Mad Kyoto Shoe Swapper (2019).

PREVIOUS WINNERS

Winning entries from four previous competition years can be found here (2023), here (2022), here (2021), and here (2020).

STAY CONNECTED WITH WRITERS IN KYOTO

Please save our website link to your Favorites and follow us on Facebook, Twitter (@KyotoWriters), and Instagram (writersinkyoto). There is also a private Facebook group for paid-up members.

WiK ANTHOLOGIES

Writers in Kyoto anthologies available in Amazon marketplaces in paperback and Kindle editions:

Echoes: WiK Anthology 2 (2017)
ed. John Dougill, Amy Chavez, and Mark Richardson

Encounters with Kyoto: WiK Anthology 3 (2019)
ed. Jann Williams and Ian Josh Yates

Structures of Kyoto: WiK Anthology 4 (2021)
ed. Rebecca Otowa and Karen Lee Tawarayama

The Nature of Kyoto: WiK Anthology 5 (2023)
ed. Lisa Twaronite Sone and Robert Weis

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About Writers in Kyoto

Writers in Kyoto is a group of published and self-published English-language authors working or living in the city. It is run on a membership basis and its purpose is for writers to help each other by creating opportunities for promotion, book launches, readings, the exchange of information, and social events. Read more

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