Sometimes a stop at one place can lead to a great adventure in another. From an art gallery on Maui to an entirely unexpected experience at a sacred place across the ocean…
In 2012, the Schaefer International Gallery at the Maui Arts and Cultural Center had a ceramic exhibition by contemporary Japanese female artists, “Soaring Voices: Recent Ceramics by Women from Japan.” It was described as pushing boundaries and conveying an internal energy. The works that fascinated me the most were from Shigaraki.
I have wanted to go to Shigaraki, Japan ever since, imagining I would see much more of the beautiful styles of ceramic work that had intrigued me at the gallery. The unique pieces in the show had calcium deposited in the clay. Large, raw, unglazed pieces.
This year, I booked a trip to Kyoto with plans to explore more of the artwork and temples I had looked for on previous visits. This time, I would make my way to Shigaraki. I got up early on a Monday morning and waved goodbye to the front desk at the hotel. I asked one last time, “Are you sure the Ceramic Cultural Center is open on a Monday?” The desk clerk waved back, “No problem, have a good time.” So off I went.
Planning my route, I had looked up the bus and train schedules and both looked complicated. I didn’t want to take the Tozai line and switch to the Keihan Railway to Hamaotsu and from there take the Ishiyama line to Ishiyama train station. Trains didn’t run after a certain hour, so if I missed the last one I would be in trouble. No thanks. I decided a taxi from Ishiyama would be the easiest way to get there.
I got on the subway and went from Gojo to the Kyoto Train Station. At the train station I purchased a ticket to Ishiyama. Hardly anyone was on the train. I got off at Ishiyama and walked out to find a taxi. Grabbing the first one in the line up, I asked him if he would take me to Shigaraki. He was surprised…“Shiga?” I said, “No Shigaraki”. He asked again, “Shigaraki?,” then he sat in silence before asking one more time, ”Shigaraki?” I thought, what is going on? What’s the problem? “Yes, Shigaraki,” I said.
We drove off, headed to Shigaraki. The route was a narrow curvy road into the mountains. The taxi driver didn’t speak English, and I only understand and speak very basic Japanese. We didn’t talk as he drove, I just looked out the window. Halfway to Shigaraki, we came to the famous Miho Museum. He pulled in and asked if I wanted to go there. “No thank you,” I said. “No thank you????,” he repeated, puzzled. We got back on the road and kept going.
Finally, we got to an area with houses and I could see chimney stacks. This must be Shigaraki, I thought. No English signs welcomed me, but I could see many large ceramic pots on trucks and in the distance on the ground near houses. I was getting excited. We’re here!
He pulled up the driveway to the Ceramic Cultural Center and there was a huge gate across the road. He got out of the car and rattled the gate, then got back in and seemed very upset. He quietly pointed to the gate and crossed his arms, making an X. Then he shook his head and said, “No,” and I understood. I had picked the wrong day to see the center. It was Monday, and they were closed. I just gasped. Why wouldn’t they say that on their website? We had driven a long way and my taxi fare was up to $100 at this point. But there was nothing we could do. Disappointed, I told him it was okay and that we could just go back to Ishiyama.
Heading down from the driveway, he got excited and pulled into another tiny museum parking lot. They were closed too, but he could see someone inside so he ran up to the front and banged on the door, asking them to let me in. They all spoke in Japanese, but I could understand some words and read their body language to interpret the conversation. “We have come all this way and the Cultural Center is closed. Just let her come in for a few minutes before we go back to Ishiyama.” The workers agreed, “Well, okay, but we’re closed today.” They flipped the lights on and my driver motioned for me to hurry. “They’re going to let you in,” he smiled. So I walked through the museum as fast as I could. I was a potter for twenty-five years, so as I looked at the works I was ticking them off in my mind…high fire (cone 9-10), wood fired, slip glazes, salt fired, reduction…nothing was really extraordinary, but at least I had seen some ceramics.
As we were leaving town, the driver spotted a café gallery where someone was watering potted plants. He pulled up into their parking lot. Again he ran up to the woman and asked her if we could come in because the Ceramic Cultural Center was closed and we had driven all the way from Ishiyama. She said, “Come back in an hour. I am not open now (she meant her cash wasn’t there so she couldn’t make any sales).” He insisted, “The least you can do is let her come in just to look.” Okay, she agreed. I ran in, checked off my list…electric fired, reduction fired, slip covered reduction pieces, ash glazes, electric fired hand painted pieces. I got back in the cab.
The driver apologized for Shigaraki being closed on a Monday. I said, no, it’s okay, not your fault. He simplified his Japanese and I used few English words, but we accepted what we could understand.
We got back on the road. In silence, he drove the curvy mountain route to Ishiyama. As we got closer to the train station, he said excitedly, “I’ll take you to my church.” I thought, oh no. Your church? I don’t want to go to anyone’s church. Now it’s going to get weird. Oh boy!
He drove into a large parking area, stopped the taxi and got out. This time, he spoke in English and very slowly said, “Please, Ishiyamadera, famous temple, no meter, go.” So I ran out and thought, did he say Ishiyamadera? I’d been wanting to go to Ishiyamadera, but because the directions were so complicated I hadn’t done it. And there I was!
Ishiyamadera is this rare massive rock monument. At the bottom of it is a cave. I think it reminded those who saw it early on of the cave that Amaterasu (the sun goddess, a Shinto deity) came out of. A stream circles the monument like a moat. It’s very impressive. I could feel how the first people who saw this place must have thought, “We have to build our temple around this.” The whole area feels sacred, and I could imagine the many people who had come there over the decades since the temple was founded over 1,265 years ago. It was awe inspiring for sure.
I ran back to the parking lot after about twenty-five minutes and there was my driver waiting for me. I got in and he asked, “Train station?” I said, “Yes, please (onegaishimasu).” When we arrived, he got out to open my door. With his two hands out and his head bowed, he presented a gift to me…a beautiful pink furoshiki (a traditional Japanese wrapping cloth) with a woman painted on it. He had purchased it from the gift shop at Ishiyamadera while waiting for me. What a sweet man. I was beside myself! I thanked him and he giggled.
I wished I could have told him that going to Ishiyamadera was the highlight of my trip. Shigaraki was okay, but Ishiyamadera was WOW! And he made it even more special by being so kind and considerate. My visit was filled with the unexpected. Like the ceramic works that had led me from Maui to Japan, this trip was about pushing boundaries and experiencing the energy of the people and places around me.