There seems to be a whole industry in Kyoto for “Japonica,” of which great parts of the city are the epicenter—the site where Japan’s “authentic past” is staged, mediated, and consumed.
One reason for this is very material: Kyoto was largely spared from U.S. bombing in WWII, meaning its temples, shrines, and machiya houses provide actual historical continuity. And yet, much of this is also manufactured: for international tourism, Kyoto functions as a museum of Japaneseness. Its Japonica is carefully staged, and the staging itself becomes part of the experience.
Japan as wooden townhouses reconstructed to look old, Japan as kimono-clad women shuffling through a warren of alleyways, all framing the perfect Instagram shot.
I think I hadn’t really wanted to take part in that industry, which is why I barely considered Kyoto before coming here. And we hadn’t planned on seeing most of these sites on our second day, but we nixed our train trip up north given the adverse weather there and our waning energy, so everything we ended up doing in Kyoto was a bonus. And while it was obviously very touristy in these spots, I was charmed by other people’s experiences of them. There was something delightful about it all. Please watch the Reel I’ll be posting soon.
One prominent feature I noticed throughout my time in Kyoto was the prevalence many long sightlines across the city, most of which I couldn’t stop to photograph. They’re not accidental: they emerged from a mix of historical urban planning, natural topography, and modern preservation policy.
The city was designed in 794 on a rectangular grid, running roughly north-south and east-west. At the north end stood the Imperial Palace; behind the palace loomed Mount Funaoka and the northern hills, establishing a cosmological axis: the city as a microcosm aligned with heaven and earth. This created a structure where north-south boulevards were deliberately wide and open, giving long, framed views down toward the mountains or across to prominent temples.
Kyoto is also basin city, ringed by mountains on three sides: Higashiyama (east), Kitayama (north), and Nishiyama (west). These mountains act like visual anchors, with many of Kyoto’s long streets terminating in vistas where you see the dark green outlines of temple groves year-round.
My photos largely fail to capture that, as I noticed the most breathtaking views out the bus window. But I still tried to document this characteristic framing feature as best I could.
Two minutes of Japonica at the famous Inari Shrine.
We almost didn’t come here, but we met two people at dinner the night before who raved about the site, and so we figured it would be silly of us not to at the very least pass through.
I actually enjoyed observing the overconsumption of the space. Not because that’s the most optimal way to experience it, but because it felt a little like being at another mega-event—a mini World Expo with Japan itself on display. Place as pavilion. x
On our first night out in Kyoto, we went to @nokishita711, known for its “liquid cuisine” and one of the most unique dining experiences I’ve ever had.
An intimate space with just four seats, the food and cocktails were at once intentional, unconventional, and delicious. Pairings including ingredients like squid and deer transformed in a delicate alchemy into something genuinely wholesome—not the shock factor I was mildly dreading from the concept note.
The evening ended with a tea ceremony and a warm sense of gratitude for getting to experience moments of true calm in the maelstrom of everything around us. x
This is the part where I wade through dangerous waters. It’s the reason you see imperial flags with the word “NO” painted on them in the protest video I shared from Hiroshima. It’s what you’ll read about in the Chinese blogosphere for the 80th commemoration of the end of the WWII. It’s controversial and it does not take away from the solemnity of honoring Hiroshima and Nagasaki as the victims of atrocity that they were, but it’s also important to remember: Japan has a history of imperial violence it must contend with too.
This is one of the markers of that need that we stumbled on while wandering around Kyoto. I’m not sure who this is or who else is buried in this site, but there was a distinctly militarist bent to the posters depicting the 80th over here.
One atrocity does not expunge another. Nor does it justify one, either. That’s a lesson we did not learn over the past century; it’s a lesson we still seem to have a hard time understanding. The cycles of belligerence will not end until we do. x
Kyoto is a spectacle that kinda just works. Unlike other cities that may attempt the same, this place has the depth and history—the “aura,” in Benjamin’s terms—to actually make it work. Nothing feels hokey here, even if the crowds might tend towards amusement park levels. Yes, it’s kinda weird that there’s a Hilton hotel right next to a massive shrine here. Yes, it’s a little silly to sit on tatami mats in the local Starbucks. But it all still kinda works. I’m glad we came. x