Kyoto in August

Kyoto’s summer heat

Kyoto in mid-August is hot. The weather is unrelentingly hot, humid and sunny, but if there’s an upside to these scorching days, it’s the sunsets. The sky lights up with some of the most vivid colors I’ve seen, like the city’s own reward for making it through the heat.

We visited the week after the famous Obon festival, one of the busiest times of the year for travelling. Many Japanese people leave their cities to return home to observe the festival and visit the graves of relatives. It is an annual Buddhist event for commemorating one’s ancestors, that is observed around the 15th day of the 7th month of the lunar calendar, and in Chinese culture is known as Ghost Day or Festival (中元节), and the Hungry Ghost Festival in Singapore. The heat really was intense, and I found myself often going back to the hotel at midday to cool down.

Gion

Kyoto felt a bit less local this time; perhaps due to the festival, people were still trickling back to the old capital. We stayed close to Gion, so our first night was spent exploring Gion Kobu and catching the Gion Corner show, an hour-long showcase of traditional Japanese arts.

Interestingly, Gion Corner exclusively employs maiko who dance in the style taught by the Inoue School of Kyomai, a school that’s been around for about 200 years. Each head of the school takes the name Yachiyo Inoue, Yachiyo meaning “millennia”, starting with Yachiyo Inoue I. After she left her role in the service of the noble Konoe family, the head senior lady-in-waiting was said to have lamented Inoue’s loss from her service so deeply, she said, “I will never forget you, not for the 8,000 years of the Tamatsubaki camellia tree.” The Inoue School’s Kyomai remains the only dance style performed in Gion-cho, keeping their legacy alive, with the school currently helmed by the 68-year-old Yachiyo Inoue V.

The maiko that night were mesmerising — our eyes couldn’t help but follow them. There were two maiko on stage, moving in such visual harmony, creating an almost layered effect. The maiko on the left would frequently be in an upright half-squat, her slightly lowered position adding depth to the scene. Every motion was so precise, with delicate hand movements and ogi folding fans that seemed to float through the air. Up close, the intricacies in their gestures were captivating, but looking at the scene as a whole, it felt like a painting brought to life.

One of the maiko who performed that night at Gion Corner was named Kokinui (小絹).

After the captivating performance, I just had to visit the recently reopened Gion Kagai Art Museum, which offers a glimpse into the lives of Gion’s geiko and maiko. The exhibit features detailed explanations that give us an insight into their world. Some of the highlights include the mokuroku posters, and their distinctive okobo platform sandals. These strikingly tall wooden shoes are often hollowed out for weight reduction, and sometimes contain a hidden bell in the sole. When a maiko walks, the “kobo-kobo” sound resonates from the sandals, creating a duet with the jingling bells, announcing her presence from afar. You don’t often see geiko and maiko walking around in Gion, and they perform in just socks, so knowing about this feels quite special.

The mokuroku posters are vibrant, hand-painted artworks that capture the festive spirit of transformation. They celebrate the transition from ordinary girl as she debuts as a maiko, or when, after many years of hard work, she finally becomes a geiko.

Also on display are senjafuda, tiny stickers that serve as unique business cards. In the Kagai district, geiko and maiko use hana-meishi business cards, small washi paper slips about a third the size of a regular card, personalized with their name and district. These cards, ordered by the okiya lodging house, are used at ozashiki banquets, helping guests remember the young maiko’s names and faces, often with a lovely pattern printed alongside. They are custom ordered with their favourite designs to reflect their personalities, with some shaped like paper lanterns, and others with pictures of seasonal flowers or cute animals.

The uchiwa fans are another peek into their world.

Prominent ochaya tea houses and restaurants receive uchiwa fans from every geiko and maiko in the Gion quarter. In July, the sight of these fans covering the walls of the ochaya tea houses and restaurants is truly captivating. This spectacular sight is also the first sign of summer.

- Gion Kagai Art Museum

These intricate details belong to a world that remains largely inaccessible to outsiders, as geiko and maiko could traditionally only be engaged through introductions and connections facilitated by okiya houses. The tea houses for these intimate dinners are also purportedly highly exclusive, and new customers only accepted if an existing customer serves as a guarantor. However, in recent years, these have become more accessible to foreigners.

A poster for the art museum.

Asahiyaki, Uji River pottery

Along Kyoto’s Uji River, Asahiyaki (朝日焼) has a beautiful pottery shop and gallery, designed to allow the natural light to shine in and bring life to their wares. The house has been producing pottery and tea ceremony utensils for over 400 years, with the 16th heir, Hosai Matsubayashi, now currently leading Asahiyaki.

The works gracefully embody the aesthetic philosophy of Kobori Enshu, “kirei-sabi” (“beauty and simplicity”), where contrasting elements such as tradition and modernity, simplicity and sophistication, strength and gentleness harmoniously coexist.

- Kogei Standard

The furthest corner from the door holds the most precious wares — unique pieces with “truly singular glazes”, fired in a traditional climbing kiln. In the modern world, gas-powered kilns have mostly taken over in the mass production of pottery, prized for their predictability and easy control over firing temperatures. In contrast, the most treasured pieces by Asahiyaki are wood-fired, in the climbing kiln. Pieces have a higher than one-in-two chance of breaking during the three-day-long firing, but the spectacularly unique glazes that appear after surviving the ordeal makes the process worth it, time and time again. Each piece is accompanied by a handwritten note card, and the pricing reflects the artistry and dedication inherent in each creation.

The gallery is incredibly aesthetic, an elegant and tranquil place. Thankfully, it was air-conditioned, which was such a relief to step into after the heat of the mid-afternoon sun. The serene atmosphere was a stark contrast to my hurried journey there, as we had spent a little too long at Nara. Our train to Nara had been delayed, sitting in the station for nearly an hour, and then the deer were so adorable that we couldn’t resist trying to feed them all. After a brisk (and hot) walk across the Uji River bridge from the station, I arrived at Asahiyaki just 30 minutes before closing, bringing in quite frenzied energy, but a few minutes in the cool interior helped bring some calm and quiet.

Unfortunately, I didn’t ask more about the pieces or history of the kiln, but researching for this article has deepened my appreciation for my purchase. I brought home a celadon green shiboridashi, a handle-less teapot that beautifully captures the craftsmanship of Asahiyaki. The shop also holds regular pottery classes and workshops, and visitors can also enter the kiln; something to note for future visits!