Day 19 in Japan: Kawaguchiko



So here we were in Kawaguchiko, not because it was somewhere we really wanted to be, but because it filled a gap in our itinerary. The tourist season had just finished -- we knew that already because when we tried to book a hotel through the Holiday Inn system at Kyoto, our first choices were closed down for the time we planned to be there. The Kawaguchiko Station Inn was our third or even fourth choice. But it was the only place on our whole trip where we had a communal bathroom -- a big hot tub on the third floor with a view of Mt Fuji -- and though the food advertised for lunch and dinner didn't attract us, they served a very nice Japanese breakfast. Even though Mt Fuji climbing season was over, the hotel had a steady turnover of young people who were there to do just that. At least once I walked into the men's bathroom to find the change area full of enthusiastically chatting young men in various degrees of nakedness, presumably having just had a good soak after the nine hour climb and descent. Somehow, perhaps thanks to my secret repellent powers as a gaijin, I always had the tub to myself, and only ever shared the actual bathroom with one other person. Penny had even less communality in the women's bathroom.

We went walking along the lake shore in the morning. The Art Museum, which promised many renderings of Mt Fuji, had closed at the end of August. We did visit a little museum devoted to a children's writer whose recurring character was an evil looking cat. I've forgotten the names of writer and character; everything was in Japanese, so I guess the character's huge success at home didn't translate into similar success over our way.

The guide book mentioned a museum dedicated to the work of some guy who did stuff with textiles. We found the place, which had an ornate but somehow discouraging gate. I was tempted to let Penny go in and enjoy the textiles while I sat by a little waterfall in the garden outside and enjoyed the dragonflies, but I weakened and we went in together. The first room after the ticket desk was devoted to a bead collection. The garden option was looking good. Then we walked up a flight of stairs into the building the guy had purpose built to house his work, and everything changed. The 'guy' was Ichiku Kubota and his work was completely magical. His life quest was to rediscover a technique for dying kimonos that had fallen into disuse centuries ago. At the age of 60 or so he succeeded, and spent the rest of his life creating spectacular works of art. We couldn't take photos, but we were allowed, even encouraged to get as close as we wanted to these extraordinary works. Here's a photo I've nicked from the Web (and there's more on the site I nicked it from), but it doesn't come anywhere near capturing the splendour of this tie-dyed silk, and actually leaves out the arms. Imagine 40 of these displayed around the walls of a room, forming a continuous landscape that leads you through the seasons of the year as you pass from one to the other. He died with two major projects unfinished -- the Symphony of Light which is the one with the seasons, and one that has maybe 20 kimonos arranged a triangle portraying the cosmos (of which he had only complete a couple). He had an exhibition at the Smithsonian in Washington DC, which makes me happy.



We caught the 'Retro Bus', a little yellow vehicle back into town, had noodles and a soft serve ice cream that looked like blueberry but turned out to be lavender. Kawaguchiko grows a lot of lavender, and I suppose they have to do something with the excess.

Then on to another unpromising museum. Called the Muse Museum, this is dedicated to the work of Yuki Atae, who makes dolls. Onve again, teh exhibition completely overturned my expectations. These dolls were the most extraordinary creations, tiny figures sculpted from paper, with expressive faces and equally expressive hands.



Kawaguchiko was shaping up to be the surprise discovery of the trip.

Posted: Fri - October 3, 2008 at 07:59 PM           |

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