1950s
The golden age of Japanese film. Watch Kurosawa Akira’s Rashōmon (1950); Mizoguchi’s Ugetsu Monogatari (1953).
1960s
Colour and prosperity arrive. Watch Ozu’s Sanma no Aji (An Autumn Afternoon; 1962).
1970s
Ōshima Nagisa brings new-wave visual techniques and raw sex. Watch Ai no Korīda (In the Realm of the Senses; 1976).
1980s
Imamura Shōhei and Itami Jūzō earn critical success for a new generation. Watch Imamura’s Naruyama Bushiko (The Ballad of Naruyama; 1983); Itami’s Tampopo (1986).
1990s
Actor and comedian Takeshi Kitano emerges as a successful director, winning a Venice International Film Festival Golden Lion. Watch Hana-bi (Fireworks; 1997).
2000s
Anime and horror flicks are international hits. Watch Miyazaki Hayao’s Sen to Chihiro no Kamikakushi (Spirited Away; 2001); Fukasaku Kinji's Battle Royale (2000).
2010s
New voices and visions. Watch Sion Sono's Love & Peace (2015); Hirokazu Koreeda's Our Little Sister (2015).
Literature
Much of Japan’s national literature since the Edo period has been penned by authors writing in Tokyo (now and then the centre of Japan's publishing industry). Consequently, no other city in Japan has a greater hold on the national imagination and, as more and more Japanese works are translated, the global imagination.
Haiku
Poetry in Japan was historically social in nature. Groups would come together to collaborate on long renga (linked verse), with each new verse playing off some word or association in the one that came before. Renga were composed in a game-like atmosphere and were more about witty repartee than about creating works to be preserved and read. Sometime in the 17th century, however, the opening stanza of a renga became accepted as a standalone poem – and the haiku was born. Today, the haiku is Japan’s most widely known form of poetry; at just 17 sparse syllables, it is also the shortest.
Matsuo Bashō (1644–94) is considered the master of the form, and is Japan’s most famous poet. He’s also the origin of the popular image of the haiku artist as a Zen-like ascetic figure. Yet before Bashō left for the wilds of northeast Japan to pen his opus, Oku no Hosomichi (The Narrow Road to the Interior; 1702) he lived in a little hut with a banana tree on the edge of Edo, in the neighbourhood of Fukagawa.
20th-Century Modernism
The most important writer of the modern era, Sōseki Natsume (1867–1916) was born in Tokyo in the last year that it was called Edo. One of the first generation of scholars to be sent abroad, Sōseki studied English literature in London. His ability to convey Japanese subtlety and wit through the lines of the then newly imported Western-style novel, while taking a critical look at modernising Japan and its morals, has endeared him to generations of Japanese readers.
Nobel Prize-winner Kawabata Yasunari (1899–1972) may not have been born in the capital, but he made up for it during his 20s, which he spent living in Asakusa – then Tokyo’s equivalent of Paris’ Montmartre. His novel The Scarlet Gang of Asakusa (Asakusa Kurenaidan; 1930), about the neighbourhood’s demi-monde, was inspired by his time there.
Japan’s other Nobel Laureate, Ōe Kenzaburo (b 1935), confronts modern Japan head-on, using the individual as a stand-in for society in disturbing works such as A Personal Matter (Kojinteki na taiken; 1964). Ōe grew up in rural Shikoku but has made Tokyo his home where, as a vocal pacifist and antinuclear activist, he can still be found speaking at rallies and symposiums. His latest work to be published in English, The Changeling (2000), is the first in a series inspired by the suicide of Japanese film director Itami Jūzō, Ōe’s brother-in-law.
Japan’s most controversial literary figure, Mishima Yukio (1925–70) grew up in central Tokyo, attending the elite Gakushūin (the school attended by the aristocracy). A prolific writer, Mishima wrote essays in addition to dense, psychological novels. His growing obsession with bushidō (the samurai code) eventually led to a bizarre, failed attempt to takeover the Tokyo headquarters of the Japanese Self-Defense Forces that ended with Mishima committing seppuku (ritual suicide). Death in Midsummer and Other Stories (1956) is a good introduction to his work.
Contemporary Writers
Among contemporary novelists, Murakami Haruki (b 1949) is the biggest star, both at home and internationally. His latest novel, Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage (2013), moved a million copies in a week – and this at a time when bestseller lists in Japan are largely filled with how-to manuals and self-help books. The English translation topped the US bestsellers list when it was released the following year. (A collection of short stories, Men Without Women, was recently published.) Of all his books, the one most Japanese people are likely to mention as their favourite is the one that established his reputation, Norwegian Wood (1987). It’s a wistful story of students in 1960s Tokyo trying to find themselves and each other. Like the main character, Murakami once worked at a record store; the university in the novel is modelled after his Alma Mater, Waseda University.
The other literary Murakami, Murakami Ryū (b 1952), is known for darker, edgier works that look at Japan’s urban underbelly. His signature work is Coin Locker Babies (1980), a coming-of-age tale of two boys left to die in coin lockers. Both survive, though the Tokyo they live to face is literally toxic. His most recent work in English translation is the short-story collection Tokyo Decadence: 15 Stories (2016).
Literature in Japan is not, entirely, a boys’ club. Banana Yoshimoto (b 1964) – who picked her pen name because it sounded androgynous – had an international hit with Kitchen (1988). More recently, in 2011, her novel The Lake (2005) was shortlisted for the Man Asian Literary Prize. In 2003, the prestigious Akutagawa Prize for emerging writers was awarded to two young women: Wataya Risa (b 1984) for the novel The Back You Want to Kick (just published in English in 2015) and Kanehara Hitomi (b 1983) for the novel Snakes and Earrings. Wataya has gone on to have further success, winning the Kenzaburō Ōe prize in 2012 for her latest work, Isn't It a Pity?.
Check out the annual anthology of new Japanese writing Monkey Business (http://monkeybusinessmag.tumblr.com). For news and reviews of Japanese works translated into English, see the blog Contemporary Japanese Literature (https://japaneselit.net).
Architecture
Traditional Architecture
Until the end of the Edo period, the city’s houses and shops were almost entirely constructed of wood, paper and tile, and early photos show a remarkable visual harmony in the old skyline. Unfortunately, such structures were also highly flammable and few survived the twin conflagrations of the first half of the 20th century – the Great Kantō Earthquake and WWII. However, traditional elements are still worked into contemporary structures. These include tatami (reed mat) floors and shōji (sliding rice-paper screen doors), which you'll encounter if you stay in a ryokan (traditional inn) or eat at a traditional restaurant. Temples and shrines, though almost all modern reconstructions, more often than not mimic their earlier incarnations.
For more on the city's architecture, see 21st Century Tokyo: A Guide to Contemporary Architecture (Julian Worrall & Erez Golani Solomon; 2010); for a discussion on cinema, see Hundred Years of Japanese Film (Donald Richie; 2012).
Foreign Influences
When Japan opened its doors to Western influence following the Meiji Restoration (1868), the city's urban planners sought to remake downtown Tokyo in the image of a European city. A century-long push and pull ensued, between enthusiasts and detractors, architects who embraced the new styles and materials, and those who rejected them. Tokyo Station, with its brick facade and domes looking very much like a European terminus, went up in 1914. Meanwhile, the Tokyo National Museum, from 1938, was done in what was called the Imperial Style, a sturdy, modern rendering of traditional design. There was also some meeting in the middle: around the turn of the 20th century it became fashionable among the elite to build houses with both Japanese and Weste
rn-style wings; the Kyū Iwasaki-teien is one example.
A few decades later, the International Style, characterised by sleek lines, cubic forms and materials such as glass, steel and brick, arrived in Japan. Many structures in this style were put up around Marunouchi and Nihombashi; though many have since been rebuilt to add more floors, the street-floor facades of some buildings still pay homage to the original structures.
Standing 634m tall, Tokyo Sky Tree (2012) is the world's tallest, free-standing tower. It employs an ancient construction technique used in pagodas: a shimbashira column (made of contemporary, reinforced concrete), structurally separate from the exterior truss. It acts as a counterweight when the tower sways, cutting vibrations by 50%.
Modern Icons
Modern Japanese architecture really came into its own in the 1960s. The best known of Japan’s 20th-century builders was Tange Kenzō (1913–2005), who was influenced by traditional Japanese forms as well as the aggressively sculptural works of French architect Le Corbusier. Some of Tange’s noteworthy works include St Mary’s Cathedral (1964), the National Gymnasium (1964), the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building (1991) and the Fuji Television Japan Broadcast Centre (1996).
Concurrent with Tange were the ‘metabolists’, Shinohara Kazuo, Kurokawa Kishō, Maki Fumihiko and Kikutake Kiyonori. The Metabolism movement promoted flexible spaces and functions at the expense of fixed forms in building. Kurokawa’s Nakagin Capsule Tower (1972) is a seminal work, designed as pods that could be removed whole from a central core and replaced elsewhere.
Kikutake went on to design the Edo-Tokyo Museum (1992). This enormous structure encompasses almost 50,000 sq metres of built space and reaches 62.2m (the height of Edo Castle) at its peak. Meanwhile, Maki’s Spiral Building (スパイラルビル MAP GOOGLE MAP ; %03-3498-1171; www.spiral.co.jp; 5-6-23 Minami-Aoyama, Minato-ku; h11am-8pm; bGinza line to Omote-sandō, exit B1) (1985) is a favourite with Tokyo residents for its user-friendly design, gallery space, cafe and shops. Tange and Maki have both been recipients of the prestigious Pritzker Architecture Prize, in 1987 and 1993 respectively.
Designer City
It may be a fully automated toilet that sings while you use it, or a smartphone that can also check for bad breath – Japanese are inimitable in their flair for tricking out ordinary gadgets with primo engineering and lots of fun, hot looks. Tokyo brims with such innovative Japanese designs; to see classics, head to the display by the Japan Design Council at the department store Matsuya. Trade shows such as Tokyo Designers Week (http://tokyodesignweek.jp) draw the brightest designers and manufacturers from around Japan, as well as massive public attendance.
Next Generation Builders
Since the 1980s a new generation of Japanese architects has emerged who continue to explore both modernism and postmodernism, while incorporating a renewed interest in Japan’s architectural heritage. Among the most esteemed are Itō Toyō and Andō Tadao, both winners of the prestigious Pritzker Architecture Prize. Andō’s works are earthy and monumental; Itō’s are lighter and more conceptual. Both architects have structures along Omote-sandō.
Across the street from Andō’s Omotesandō Hills (表参道ヒルズ MAP GOOGLE MAP ; 4-12-10 Jingūmae, Shibuya-ku; bGinza line to Omote-sandō, exit A2) is the work of one of Itō’s protégées, Sejima Kazuyo, who designed the flagship boutique for Dior with her partner Nishizawa Ryūe in the firm SANAA. Sejima and Nishizawa picked up Pritzker awards in 2010; their structures often have a mutable quality, blurring the line between inside and out.
Meanwhile, Tange protégé Taniguchi Yoshio landed the commission to redesign the Museum of Modern Art (1999) in New York City. He also designed the Gallery of Hōryū-ji Treasures at the Tokyo National Museum and Tokyo Sea Life Park (葛西臨海水族館 GOOGLE MAP ; www.tokyo-zoo.net; 6-2-3 Rinkai-chō, Edogawa-ku; adult/child ¥700/350; h9.30am-4pm Thu-Tue; dJR Keiyō line to Kasai Rinkai-kōen), both of which showcase his minimal and elegant aesthetic.
Japan's most recent Pritzker winner, Ban Shigeru, marches to the beat of his own drum entirely, purposefully using low-cost and recycled materials, building prefab houses and disaster shelters in addition to prestigious projects, mostly overseas.
Another name to know is Kengo Kuma, Tange successor in terms of impact on Tokyo, having received a number of high-profile commissions lately, including the 2020 Olympic stadium. Known for his use of wood and light, his recent works include reboots of Kabukiza, the Nezu Museum and Suntory Museum of Art, Akagi-jinja and the Asakusa Culture Tourist Information Center.
First built in 1278 and last rebuilt in 1407, the Jizō-dō in Shōfuku-ji is Tokyo's oldest building. The temple is located in the northwest suburb of Higashi-Murayama; the Jizō-dō (hall dedicated to the bodhisattva Jizō) is only open to the public on 3 November, the day of celebration for Jizō.
Temple or Shrine?
Buddhist temples and Shintō shrines were historically intertwined, until they were forcibly separated by government decree in 1868. But centuries of coexistence means the two resemble each other architecturally; you’ll also often find small temples within shrines and vice versa. The easiest way to tell the two apart though is to check the gate. The main entrance of a shrine is a torii (gate), usually composed of two upright pillars, joined at the top by two horizontal crossbars, the upper of which is normally slightly curved. Torii are often painted a bright vermilion. In contrast, the mon (main entrance gate) of a temple is often a much more substantial affair, constructed of several pillars or casements, joined at the top by a multitiered roof. Temple gates often contain guardian figures, usually Niō (deva kings).
Onsen
It's known as hadaka no tsukiai meaning 'naked friendship'; communal bathing is seen in Japan as a great social leveller. With thousands of onsen (hot springs) scattered across the archipelago, the Japanese have been taking the plunge for centuries. The blissful relaxation that follows a good long soak can turn a sceptic into a convert, and is likely to make you an onsen fanatic. Even in Tokyo there are opportunities for a dip, in either onsen or sentō (public baths).
A Japanese open-air hot spa | ONEMU / SHUTTERSTOCK ©
Healing Waters
What sets an onsen apart from an ordinary sentō (public bath) is the nature of the water. Onsen water comes naturally heated from a hot spring and often contains a number of minerals and gases; sentō water comes from the tap and is mechanically heated. Onsen are reputed to makes one’s skin sube-sube (smooth), while the chemical composition of particular waters are also believed to help alleviate such ailments as high blood pressure and poor circulation.
Konyoku (mixed bathing) was the norm in Japan until the Meiji Restoration, when the country sought to align itself with more ‘civilised’ Western ideas and outlawed the practice. Within Tokyo's central 23 wards you won't encounter it, but in the countryside and on the Izu Islands (where baths may be no more than a pool in a riverbed blocked off with stones, or a tidal basin beside crashing waves), konyoku is more common.
Outdoor onsen pools are called rotemburo (or notemburo). Facilities can be publicly run or attached to a ryokan (traditional Japanese inn) or minshuku (Japanese guesthouse).
The Japanese Spa: A Guide to Japan’s Finest Ryokan & Onsen (Akihiko Seki & Elizabeth Heilman Brooke; 2005) is a lush coffee-table book covering the country’s most luxurious baths. A Guide to Japanese Hot Springs (Anne Hotta with Yoko Ishiguro; 1986), though dated, still offers up some classic gems.
Where to Soak
You don’t have to travel far outside Tokyo (or leave the city limits at all) to discover onsen. The best have a rustic charm that adds multiple layers to the experience: picture yourself sitting in a rotemburo on a snow-flecked riverside or watching the autumn leaves fall. With express train and bus services, it’s possible to get there and back in a day, though staying in an onsen ryokan (traditional inn with its own baths) is certainly a treat. In addition to having longer use of the baths, a stay typically includes a multicourse dinner of seasonal deli
cacies and a traditional breakfast.
Many onsen ryokan open their baths to day trippers in the afternoon; ask any tourist information centre where there are places offering higaeri-onsen (bathing without accommodation).
Tokyo Onsen
Deep beneath the concrete tangle that is Tokyo, there is pure hot-spring water. The city has several large bathing complexes, where you can spend hours going from pool to pool (and even stay the night). These include Spa LaQua, smack in the city centre with several floors of upmarket baths; Ōedo Onsen Monogatari, in Odaiba, which bills itself as an onsen ‘theme park’ and includes a recreation of an old Edo downtown; and Thermae-yu, a slick new multi-bath facility among the bars and clubs of Shinjuku. All of these also offer spa treatments including massage and body scrubs, if you're that way inclined.
Onsen water is also pumped into some sentō (public baths), including Jakotsu-yu in Asakusa and Rokuryu Kōsen in Ueno.
Tokyo Sentō (www.1010.or.jp/index.php) is the official guide to Tokyo sentō from the Tokyo Sentō Association, while Sentō Guide (www.sentoguide.info) is an English blog with a searchable database for sentō in Tokyo and beyond.
Hakone
Less than two hours southwest of the city is Tokyo’s favorite onsen getaway, Hakone, a centuries-old resort town with several distinct hot springs set among forested peaks. Top public facilities include Hakone Yuryō, Tenzan Tōji-kyō and Yunessun. There are also many onsen ryokan (traditional hot-spring inns) here, ranging from reasonable to lavish.
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