by admin on April 24, 2012
Gassho -zukuri - "Hands joined in prayer"
As the bus winds its way down into the Shogawa river valley and we catch our first glimpses of the UNESCO World Heritage site of Shirakawa-go, it is clear that we are in for something special. The gassho-zukuri (“prayer hands construction”) style of housing, characterised by a steeply slanting thatched roof resembling two hands joined in prayer, ensures that the houses will withstand and shed the weight of the massive snowfalls that the village receives in winter.
Spring arrives late in this tiny village. It’s mid April and the steep banks of ice and compacted snow are stubbornly resisting the warm sunshine of late afternoon. The world has paused temporarily between winter and spring… everywhere the sound of gushing water announces the departure of winter and a single white magnolia uncertainly buds against the expansive backdrop of the densely forested mountains still covered by snow. But there is not much colour here… yet.
We find our way to Shimizu Inn and, seated on the floor, we enjoy a traditional Japanese meal cooked around the open hearth. After unrolling my futon onto the woven tatami mat, I fall into a deep sleep, dreaming of returning to this magical town in high summer when the rice paddies are green and the days are long.
by admin on April 19, 2012
Geiko performer in Kyoto
Her dance is slow and deliberate, punctuated by wistful turns and sad, longing pauses. The term geisha or ‘geiko’ literally means ‘performing artist’. Strictly matriarchal, and requiring a long apprenticeship as a ‘maiko’, the geisha evolved by the 1800s to be a highly independent female professional offering performances of dance, instrument playing, calligraphy, poetry and tea ceremony for the entertainment of men.
In the Gion district of Kyoto, considered to be one of the last havens for the modern geisha, we are watching an odori show performed by a young maiko. Clad in a gold kimono, and with the accompaniment of the three-stringed shamisen, her dance is graceful and elegant… her hands move freely in alternate gestures of hope, homage and dismay. The performance is riveting… it is impossible to take your eyes from the perfectly powdered face, the thick white base with the red lipstick, and the black accents around the eyes and eyebrows.
After more traditional bunraki (puppet play) and kyogen (ancient comic play) the show comes to an end and the curtain falls. Back outside on the streets of Gion the brightly lit white cherry blossom explodes into the April night air. From the bridge over the stream, lined with red lanterned restaurants, I spot a single crane wading below in the water, its beak a white flash against the darkly flowing current.
