Kyoto Imperial Palace: Better Than the Grammies

Let's get things started by taking a quick peek at a map of Japan:

Kyoto is marked with the 'A'.

Historically, Kyoto was the capital and largest city in Japan.  In fact, the word "Kyoto" apparently comes from the Chinese word "jingdu", which means capital city ('Kyoto' and 'jingdu' don't look like they sound the same to me, but what do I know?).  Starting in the 1500s, though, the population of other Japanese cities began to grow, and in 1869, the emperor moved his residence - and thus the capital - to Tokyo, where it remains today.  As of 2010 population statistics, Kyoto had fallen to the 6th largest city in Japan.


However, much Japanese history remains alive and well in Kyoto.  There are over 2,000 shrines there, and the city contains 14% of Japan's designated Important Cultural Properties.  [Although I'm not exactly sure what this means. As you'll see/read, Japan seems to like designating places/buildings/gardens/items as ICPs, National Treasures, etc.]  While it was the capital, the infrastructure of Kyoto sustained damage from earthquakes, fires, and wars.  However, it was  spared much of the destruction that befell other Japanese cities during World War II.  Allegedly, the US Secretary of War during WWII (Henry Stimson) had visited and vacationed in Kyoto and wanted to spare the city as an important cultural site.  [I find this to be an interesting commentary about the power of anonymity is in the commission of acts of violence and destruction. But that is a topic for another post, probably by someone with a degree other than 'Biochemistry'.]


We did not intend to visit 2,000 shrines.  But we did want to take in some culturally relevant sites.  So our first historical stop in Kyoto was the Kyoto Imperial Palace.  When Kyoto was the capital of Japan, this compound was the emperor's residence.  Today, the emperor's residence is at a different Imperial Palace in Tokyo.


We had a special appointment for an English language tour of the Kyoto Palace at 10 AM.  We showed up at the gates a few minutes early and wandered into the compound.  The outer area includes a broad paved path around the Palace complex and is open to the public.  All of the structures are enclosed by an earth-and-tile wall.  


We must have looked lost, because a friendly Japanese gentleman approached and asked whether we needed help.  He assisted us in finding the entrance to the complex and check-in area.


After a brief video introduction that included some history of the compound, as well as a preview of the tour, we set out.  Click here to see a map of the area and the route that we took.  Basically, we were shown several of the gates and a variety of the "work" buildings.  The center and back sections of the complex, where the emperor and his wife/children lived, respectively (that's right, they didn't live together in the same buildings), are closed to the public.


In retrospect, as I looked through my photos, I realized that I had a very difficult time capturing the enormity of these structures with my camera.  Often, I "coped" by merely snapping a photo or two of the rooflines, to give an idea of size and architecture.  Many of my pictures from our first few days in Japan look something like this:

Now that I have identified this trend in my photos, I'm hoping to take some measures to avoid it in the future.  But for now, you're stuck with the photos that I took!  


So let's start with the entrances to the compound itself.  There are at least 6 separate gates that were used to pass into the compound.  Each was designated for a different "class" of visitor.  The fanciest and most convenient gate was for the highest ranking visitors, and so on down through the less-fine gates and less-famous visitors.  If you are familiar with Japan as a hierarchical, structured, and strict society, this type of imposed order shouldn't surprise you.  Below, you can see the Kenreimon Gate (one of the middle-ranking gates):

Why yes.  I have an equivalent "mediocre" entrance for my "less than super famous" visitors... 

Next, we got to peek into the building that was designated as a waiting area for visitors who came to see the emperor.  Just like the entrance gates, this building had 3 different waiting areas to separate guests by rank.  The most basic waiting room had black-edged tatami mats and simple screen paintings.  In contrast, the room where the highest ranking officials waited was several steps higher, with white-edged tatami mats and elaborately painted screens.  The height, the color, the drawings - symbolism, every step of the way!


One of the next buildings we saw was the Shishinden.  

While most of the buildings are neutral in color, the orange painted pillars at the front of the Shishinden indicate that this is a particularly important building.  As you'll see inphotos over the next few days, the torii (traditional Japanese gates) at the entrances to shrines are also usually orange.


The Shishinden is the symbol of the Kyoto Imperial Palace, and was the location of important ceremonies (eg: enthronement ceremonies).  The photos below are taken through the orange gates and into the courtyard of the Shishinden, where the white-grey rocks are raked daily into orderly perfection.  You can see the actual building through the gate in the photos below:

Personally, I was most amused by the trees on either side of the Shishinden entrance.  In the photo on the right (east), you can see a cherry tree beside the steps.  As we approached, our guide told us that the tree on the left (west) was an orange tree, but it would be covered to protect it from winter frost.  I laughed out loud when I peeked into the courtyard and saw...an actual shed erected around the tree.  This is one fancy tree, guys.  No simple burlap sack for this baby!!


Now, if you can manage to look beyond the protective-tree-shed for a moment, check out the roof of the Shishinden and the Kenreimon gate in the photos above.  Traditionally, the buildings in this complex (and similar temple/shrine/government complexes) all had roofs made of many, many layers of cypress bark held together by small, whittled bamboo nails.  Here's a close up:

Many, many layers of cypress bark.

Cypress bark, apparently, makes for great roofing material.  It is very light, making it ideal for roofing a large building.  It is flexible, which allows for sweeping, swooping roof lines (check out the photo of the Kenreimon gate).  It also regulates temperature very well, and allows for the reflection of heat and insulation of cool air inside during the summer.


Unfortunately, many many layers of bark are needed to make a roof.  See below:

Furthermore, such roofs only last about 20 years before they need replacing.  Based on the number of buildings in the Kyoto Palace Complex - by the time all the roofs were replaced, the roofing team would have had to start the process all over again.  The other major disadvantage of such roofs are that they are highly flammable.  Japan has a very bad track record with fire.  Many of the buildings in the complex had burned down repeatedly over hundreds of years.   [Based on what we saw and read at the historic sites we visited, the Japanese obviously would have benefited from a Smokey The Bear visit a few hundred years ago.] 


The result has been depletion of Japan's supply of cypress trees.  Use of cypress barks is now more tightly regulated and only used for certain structures.  Ceramic tiles are used when cypress bark is unavailable.


We also saw the Shunkoden (which I, for some reason, want to keep calling the Skunkoden...), which is the special building where the Palace's treasures are kept.  One such treasure is a mirror, but I can't remember what the others are (educational blogging FAIL).  I'll do a bit more research on this to include in subsequent posts about some of the temples and shrines that we visited - but most of them have some specific "treasures" that are kept in a separate and sacred building.

We saw several other Palace buildings (from the outside only), notably the Seiryoden, where the emperor lived and worked.  There is an elaborate system of partitions, screens, and hanging cloths to separate different areas and facilitate cooling in the summer. Overall, Japan seems to worry about staying warm in the winter; but everyone is concerned about keeping cool in the summer.  I couldn't get any photos that weren't crowded by a bunch of my fellow tour participants.  And the guard that was bringing up the rear of the tour was none-too-pleased about my hanging back to try to snap some "clean" photos.  I hurried along.


Around the next corner, we could see the Oikeniwa Garden.  It was larger than this, but I carefully composed the shot to avoid photos of the garden maintenance team.  Speaking of maintenance - visiting the Palace emphasized to us how central such a complex could be to the economic life of an area.  Obviously, many hands were required, both indoors and out, to keep the place clean, tidy, and fed.  In particular, I remember our tourguide telling us that, when the Palace was in use, the gardeners used to hand pick the deciduous leaves out of the trees before they fell to the ground in the Fall.  

This is considered a "strolling" garden.  See the bridges?

By this point, we were chilly, tired of being in a tour group, and getting hungry.  Research indicated the presence of a good ramen place just a short ride and walk from the palace, so we set off on a Ramen Hunt.  It'll be worth coming back to read and drool over what we found...