Fukuromachi
A typical walking tour of Hikone takes you from the station to the castle, then along Castle Road with its recently rebuilt Edo-style shops, through the mock-Taishō period Yonbanchō Square, to Ginzachō with its genuine Shōwa period arcade. At the end of the arcade, you enter Hanashōbu Street with its unmistakably old buildings, and if you take one of the alleys off to the right towards the Seri River, you’ll find yourself in Fukuromachi.
Fukuromachi is the old ‘licensed quarter’ of the castle town, where prostitutes and entertainers were allowed by the feudal government to ply their trade. These quarters were a feature of every castle town in Japan, allowing the otherwise rigidly controlled samurai to let off steam and relax a bit.
I visited Fukuromachi to talk to the proprietors of a couple of very different venues in the quarter. First I met Matsubara Tomiko who runs a selection of establishments in Fukuromachi including Club Hama, a hostess bar for members, Snack Kuro, a public bar, and the Sushimatsu restaurant. Out of hours, she was in her casual attire, but later in the evening, she would have been fully encased in smart kimono. We took one of the box seats in the huge sitting room of her club, among potted orchids that she received for her last birthday. There’s a piano and drum kit, and a projector. The furnishings and décor are of the highest quality and good taste.
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“‘Fukuromachi’ – ‘Bag town’, is a rather weird name. What’s its origin?”
“‘Fukuromachi isn’t its official name. It’s the old name of the area. This area is like a maze of cul-de-sacs, so it’s like a bag. In the old days, it was a licensed prostitution quarter. In modern times, the official name ‘Fukuromachi’ was abolished. When children went to school, it was considered insensitive if they were known as ‘kids from Fukuromachi’. But I think it’s a shame that the old name was phased out. When I was a child, this was still a red-light district. But the government decided to shut down all the brothels.”
“What sort of customers visit your establishment?”
“The first floor is a club, and our members are mostly the owners of companies in Hikone and hereabouts. The second floor is a bar that’s open to everyone. On the first floor we have a dress code, but in the second-floor bar, anything goes – work clothes, shorts and so on.”
At this point I was imagining a sort of linoleum and Formica setup, but when Matsubara-san took me upstairs to the second-floor establishment I was surprised to find a space whose elegance rivals the club below. Its décor features a bamboo theme, and there are beautiful carved transoms taken from the traditional building that used to stand on this site. In the upstairs bar you can enjoy beer, sake, wine and cocktails with various snack foods like fried chicken and chips, cheese, and sliced tomato. You can also order sushi from the nearby Sushimatsu restaurant.
“Do you serve local sake here?”
“Yes, we have a wide selection. Although our club members tend to drink wine, whiskey, and brandy, I really like sake. Customers at Sushimatsu tend to drink nihonshu.”
“Do you have a particular favourite brand of sake?”
“There are so many good local brands to choose from, so I like drinking a variety of types. At the moment, I’m enjoying the freshly pressed nigorizake of springtime. It’s slightly cloudy. It’s quite strong, but it’s delicious.”
“I haven’t had any nigorizake from Shiga yet.”
“Oh dear! We’ll have to fix that! Nigorizake isn’t one of your fancy modern types. It’s made using the simple old methods. You can enjoy sake as it used to taste in the old days.”
“Do you also serve warm sake.”
“Oh yes! I love it in winter.”
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The conversation turned to the old days when everyone drank sake.
“I used to enjoy exchanging glasses with my guests. That’s how we used to drink socially in the days before everyone became bothered by ‘hygiene’.”
Matsubara-san showed me a selection of the beautifully decorated ceramic bowls used for washing glasses between exchanges. She demonstrated how the glass is pressed against the bottom of the bowl and pulled up sharply, drawing water rapidly up into the glass.
According to Matsubara-san, there were two hundred geiko in the area, and four hundred prostitutes. So it was a very lively place.
“When I was a child, men would come into the area and they’d pick a girl they fancied, then they’d go and watch a film, or see the fireflies in summer, or play scoop-the-goldfish. Often, they’d invite me to join them. Then they’d have dinner together. It was actually very sociable.
Fukuromachi never slept. It was always as bright as day, but once you stepped out of the quarter it was pitch black at night and you needed a torch. Then about thirty-eight years ago, the Ginza shopping street was built, and people came from all over Japan in buses to see it. After that, Fukuromachi has been in decline, but the Fukuromachi Proprietors Association is working to restore the area’s popularity.”
One of these efforts includes the installation of lanterns featuring a beguiling and conspiratorial-looking lady in a kimono, on premises owned by Association members. The lanterns proclaim that the area is ‘safe’, which is another way of saying that there are no longer prostitutes here. The lady on the lantern is Murayama Taka, also known as Takajo. Born in nearby Taga, she became a geisha in Kyōto. She was the lover of Ii Naosuke, and she’s said to have taught the shamisen in Fukuromachi.
The quarter is a fascinating mix of architectural styles and frontages, many of which have been redone numerous times. Elegant geisha houses with red latticework fronts stand next to hole-in-the-wall snack bars. Later in the evening when things in the quarter were getting into stride, I met bar owner Toda Moritake, alias Kenny, who owns Tavern Takazono, an American-style bar. The side of his building has a big mural of Louis Armstrong blowing his horn, but the entrance is very small, and perhaps a little intimidating to first-time visitors. Toda-san, who wears distinctively American clothing and who has some of the atmosphere of Mr. Miyagi from The Karate Kid, is concerned about how to make the area more accessible to foreign visitors. The traditional seating charge of these unique Japanese entertainment districts isn’t something that can be easily done away with, but the challenge is how to make it acceptable to foreign guests.
“Kenny” explains that the cover charge includes a small dish of food, the right to sit at your stool without interruption all night, and a certain amount of entertainment, whether a pleasant chat with the owner or a hostess, or live music and impromptu dancing. The people who frequent Fukuromachi aren’t shy, retiring types. When someone plonks themselves down next to you, you can expect to be drawn into their circle with minimal formalities. Conversation flows, somehow or other. Kenny himself is talented at several instruments, and after a few cocktails or pints of Guinness, somehow it seems easy to get up and dance when he starts drumming to something evocative from the 1980s. He knows the classics of America, Europe, and Japan, going back forty years or more.
Besides the bars, there are restaurants offering Japanese and foreign cuisine, so you can dine most enjoyably in Fukuromachi before the night heats up. Whichever bag you end up in, a visit to toujours gai Fukuromachi is sure to become a cherished memory.
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Ginzachō
Ginza is a shopping area in Hikone, located a short walk south of Hikone Castle. The area saw its greatest development in the postwar Shōwa period, and it still retains the atmosphere and charm of that time.
Around the time that the town around Hikone Castle developed, Kawara and Dobashi emerged as commercial areas. In 1951, the two areas merged to form the current Ginza shopping district.
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In 1930, the Marubishi Department Store opened in the then Dobashi area. Then in 1963, Heiwado opened as the first supermarket with an escalator in Shiga Prefecture. From then until the early 1970s, around one billion yen was spent on urban planning to establish the area as a disaster-proof modern shopping area. But, from the latter half of the 1970s, the development of other shopping areas saw the gradual decline of Ginza.
Many of the shops are shuttered, but those that remain open are energetically pursuing business, and a movement is afoot to restore the area to its earlier liveliness. One of the most prominent shops is Gelateria Azzurro, which offers delicious, authentic Italian gelato in a range of tempting flavours.
The buildings on either side of the arcade are penetrated by tunnel-like walkways, some of which are home to hole-in-the-wall bars. Pass through one of these tunnels and you’ll see the dramatic mural of Ramen Maji, which serves very hearty noodles. Another wonderful eating experience is to be enjoyed behind the arcade at Waon, an izakaya that epitomises the Shōwa period. Try ordering some oden and sake.
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Part of Ginza’s charm lies in its faded glory – the hand painted fonts on the rusted shutters were once avantgarde, and the straight, blocky lines of the concrete buildings, now stained and mottled, originally represented blessed modernity. On either side of the arcade are relics from a much older period. There are old temples and shrines, and a small wooded mound which is all that remains of the outer earthwork of Hikone Castle. Below this hummock is Yama no Yu, an old public bathhouse that once functioned as the social centre of the area.
Kojima Atsuko runs the Kojima Gallery in the Ginza arcade. She recalls the area some fifty years ago during her childhood.
Before the present concrete arcade was built, the only concrete buildings were the Marubishi Department Store and Shiga Bank. As a child, she played in one of the big wooden shops lining the street. “There was a cinema on the left side, and you could hear the opening songs. If you leaned out of the window, you could see the Marubishi Department Store on the right. If you looked down, you could hear the lively buzz of the shopping street and various sounds.
The other view from the second floor was the residential side. A room separated by a corridor. Looking out from there, you could see another world. There was a small mountain like a bush, and through the trees you could see Mt. Ibuki. I also remember that part of the outer moat of Hikone Castle was left, and there were some little wooden boats on it.
Next to it was the Yama no Yu baths. As shown in the paintings of master artist Ueda Michizō, baths were places of entertainment. For men, it was like a salon. They’d take a bath, cool off on the veranda, and play go. My grandfather only had a bath at home every other day, so he used to go to Yama no Yu for small talk and to gather information. You could see the benches over the moat from the second floor of my house. As a child, I remember being embarrassed to see the men nearly naked in their underpants. A gardener told me that he used to work for Yama no Yu. He would take a boat across to cut the grass on the other side of the moat. He said, “The scenery was just as wonderful as a painting.” The public bath was still bright and crowded with people when we went to bed. It was open until late, and when I couldn’t get to sleep and I looked out from the second floor, I could hear the cheerful music of “Rawhide” out of nowhere.
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The Marubishi Department Store was demolished in 2008. Now it’s a big space with the blue sky above it. It’s as if nothing had ever been there. It’s sad.
When I was a child, Kawaramachi and Dobashi were Hikone’s main shopping area, and it was already lively. There was a resident clerk in each store, and everyone lived under the same roof. I grew up watching business. As a child, shops were already open when I woke up in the morning and they were still open when I went to sleep. I wondered if they were open all the time.”
Ebisu is the Japanese god of good fortune and wealth, who is revered by shopkeepers. One of Japan’s three major Ebisu festivals was held in Ginza.
“During the Ebisu festival, wholesalers would send people to help man the shops. Shopkeepers could sell one month’s worth of goods in the for four or five days of the festival. The road was shoulder to shoulder with people. At that time, it attracted shoppers from the north and west of Lake Biwa. Before the war, steamers on the lake made several round trips with passengers from the western side of Biwako.
At that time, there were rows of wooden shops, and the only concrete buildings were Shiga Bank and Marubishi. I can’t forget the splendour of Marubishi’s unique appearance. When I was a child, my grandfather had a store there, so he often took me along and I played on the swings on the roof. Looking towards Mt. Kojin from there, there were almost no houses beyond the Seri River, only rice fields. It was especially beautiful at dusk when it looked just like a picture. There was a diner on the 3rd floor called the “Star Diner”. At that time, eating out was rare, and going up the long stairs to get there felt like going to a different world.
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My father, who was a child at that time, recalled, “In the winter the department store was heated with steam radiators, so I went there to get warm. In the summer, I played in the wooden pool on the rooftop and had curry and rice in the diner. I was fascinated when I saw a cash register for the first time.”
Marubishi was built in 1933 by ten investors from Hikone. At that time, it was very rare for a department store to open in a small or medium-sized city. The predecessor of Itojū recorded it on 9-5 mm film, which was rare at that time, and you can see it at Itoya Jūbē on Castle Road. It’s a valuable video showing the enthusiasm of the people at the time, from the ground breaking festival to the opening of the store, the state of the city, and the parade for the second anniversary of the opening.”
When Marubishi was demolished, Kojima-san went to the site and took a chunk of the concrete rubble. She keeps it on a shelf in her office as a reminder that the department store was really there.
Takajo
When you visit Fukuromachi, the fascinating old licensed quarters of Hikone, you’re sure to encounter a beguiling and conspiratorial-looking lady in a kimono looking down on you from a lantern affixed to an eating and drinking establishment. This is Takajo, or Murayama Taka, also known as Murayama Kazue.
She was born in 1809, in a Buddhist temple at Taga Shrine. Immediately after birth, she was entrusted to a samurai named Murayama who was serving the temple, and at 18, she became a maid of the lord of Hikone at that time, Ii Naoaki.
At the age of 20, she went to Kyōto and became a geisha in Gion, where she learned to play the shamisen. At that time, she gave birth to a boy, but because it was an illegitimate child, she returned to Hikone near her hometown. Here she met Ii Naosuke, a devotee of the shamisen, who lived in modest quarters within Hikone Castle, and apparently became his lover. A few years later, she also had a close relationship with Nagano Shuzen, Naosuke’s tutor and counsellor. Takajo taught shamisen to the geisha of Fukuromachi. The two parted ways when Naosuke went to Edo.
Ii Naosuke became chief counsellor to the Shogun, and in an attempt to quell the faction that sort to replace the shogunate with imperial rule, Naosuke carried out the Ansei Purge, executing a number of his peers. Takajo became a spy, sending information about the rebel forces in Kyōto to Edo. She’s known as the first female agent of the Japanese government to ever be named.
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After Naosuke was assassinated in 1860 outside the Sakurada Gate of Edo Castle, she was captured in 1862 by samurai of the imperial restoration faction. Although her life was spared as a woman, she was tied to a stake in public for three days and three nights in Kyōto. However, her son Tada Tatewaki was killed by feudal retainers of the rebellious Tosa and Chōshū Domains in place of his mother.
After that, she became a nun at Konpuku-ji Temple and died in 1876 Her grave is located at Enkō-ji, the main temple of Konpuku-ji, and there’s a memorial at Konpuku-ji.
For a long time, the specific relationship between Taka and Ii Naosuke was unknown, but at the end of 2011, a letter from Naosuke to Taka was found at the Ii Art Museum in Kyōto. The letter is thought to have been written by Naosuke in his late twenties, and it expresses his painful feelings when he was unable to see her due to the opposition of his family.
Ōmi Sake
Shiga Prefecture has a lot of sake breweries for its size, many of which fall into the Ōmi region. These are typically small, family-run breweries that produce small volumes of high-quality sake. The sake produced by each brewery has its own personality, and each brand has its loyal devotees.
Rather than competing, the brewers work and study together to improve their skills and knowledge, to raise the level of their sake in general.
Shiga Prefecture is a vast basin, with Lake Biwa occupying one sixth of its area. This basin is surrounded by the Ibuki and Suzuka mountains in the east, and the Hira and Hiei mountains in the west. Snowmelt and rainwater percolates down from the mountains, appearing everywhere throughout the region as pure rivers and springs. This water is ideal for brewing sake.
Not incidentally, this abundant water is also perfect for cultivating sake rice. Ōmi has been known as a major rice production area since ancient times, and some of this production was dedicated to types that are particularly suitable for brewing sake. The ancient tradition of brewing sake here is reflected in the fact that one of Ōmi’s breweries, Fujii Honke, enjoys the honour of providing the ceremonial sake used by the Imperial Household and Shintō shrines nationwide.
Four main types of sake rice are used for brewing sake in Ōmi: Yamadanishiki is used nationwide, including in Ōmi. It’s particularly good for brewing ginjō style sake, and it’s popular with brewers for its reliability in the various stages of brewing. Tamasakae is well suited to brewing clean, dry sake. Ginfubuki is a combination of Yamadanishiki and Tamasakae. Shiga Wataribune No. 6 is said to be the progenitor of Yamadanishiki.
Shiga Wataribune No. 6 is one of the ancient Japanese varieties that is the progenitor of Yamadanishiki, but it fell out of use about half a century ago and became a rarity.
However, in recent years, the local agricultural cooperative, JA Green Ōmi, decided to revive it in a move to establish a regional brand. Starting with only about 50 grams of seeds received from the Agricultural Technology Promotion Center in Ōmihachiman, the cooperative re-established Wataribune as a production rice through repeated trial cultivation. It’s now prized as a variety that’s unique to Shiga Prefecture.
The quality of this newly viable Shiga Wataribune is on a par with Yamadanishiki, and the rice is now used in several breweries in Shiga.
The third component essential for sake, yeast, is also produced locally. Yeast breaks down the sugars in rice to produce alcohol, carbon dioxide, and amino acids. Over 200 yeast strains that live in breweries in the region have been collected, selected, and crossed to arrive at a taste that’s dry but refreshing, which drinkers never tire of drinking.
Ōmi sake and food pairing
Lake Biwa, Japan’s largest lake, has many varieties of freshwater fish which are delicious paired with sake. Ōmi sake, which emphasises the umami of rice, makes an excellent match with the mild taste of freshwater fish, while the robust flavour of yamahai and kimoto styles complement the richness of Ōmi’s premium beef.
Since winters in Ōmi are typically cold with considerable snowfall, it’s no surprise that the region’s sake is also perfect served warm. Even in spring and autumn, a flask of warm sake can be very comforting. Try experimenting with sake heated to various temperatures, or visit one of the excellent local bars or restaurants to have your sake heated to the perfect warmth for each type.
Some examples of food pairings are shown below.
Carp with its eggs
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Carp sashimi sprinkled with its own eggs. This dish always features in the spring festivals of Ōmi. A robust sake, served warm, enhances the delicate richness of the sashimi.
Funazushi
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Funazushi served with its fermented rice known as ‘ii’, seasoned with chopped chives. The unique harmony of rich, salty and sour keeps drinkers busy pouring one cup after another. Yamahai and kimoto styles go particularly well.
Stewed beans and shrimp
This dish is unique to the region. Soybeans are stewed with the little shrimp from Lake Biwa. A fragrant ginjō offers a nice counterpoint to the homely taste of stewed beans.
Small sweetfish tempura
Ayu from Lake Biwa remains small even as an adult. In early spring, these little fish are coated in crispy batter and eaten with salt for a delicately fragrant snack. It goes best with a crisp, cold sake.
Stewed carp with their eggs
Carp stewed in a sweet, spicy sauce, served with Japanese pepper. A slightly matured junmai served warm is the best match.
Ii Naosuke
Ii Naosuke was the feudal lord of Hikone and also chief minister to the Tokugawa shogunate. His rise to national power was unexpected, and he was assassinated for his efforts to steer the nation through its difficult entry to modernity.
Naosuke was born in 1815, the 14th son of Ii Naonaka, feudal lord of Hikone. As the 14th son, Naosuke was not in line for succession, and he spent his early years living within the grounds of Hikone castle. He lived frugally and anticipating a life of scholarship and the martial arts, he immersed himself in Zen, the tea ceremony, and Japanese classical literature. He also played the shamisen.
During this time, he founded a school of the tea ceremony, and after he became the lord of the Hikone Domain, he continued to write on the subject. Naosuke’s tea ceremony emphasizes the spirit of the individuals who take part in the tea ceremony, and the importance of experiencing the “thusness” of a unique moment. No matter how many times you have tea with the same people, if you recognise that today’s ceremony is an encounter that will never be repeated, it becomes a once-in-a-lifetime occasion.
The turning point came for Naosuke at the age of 32. By a strange coincidence of adoptions and deaths, Naosuke was suddenly in line for succession as leader of the Ii clan. He became lord of the Hikone Domain in 1850.
In 1853, the American Commodore Perry arrived and the Shogunate was rocked by the issue of how to conduct diplomacy with aggressive external powers. At the same time, radical samurai in certain domains began calling for the overthrow of the Shōgunate and restoration of the Emperor to supreme power. Matters were further complicated by the question of who among several undesirable candidates would become the next Shōgun.
The Hikone lords had always served as advisors to the Shōgun. In 1858, Naosuke was named chief minister. He had responsibility for negotiating with the Americans a treaty that would avert the worst of their imperial ambitions without Japan suffering complete collapse as China had recently. Any agreement was unlikely to satisfy any party. With the realistic fear that unless he did so, the whole of Japan would come under attack, Naosuke signed an unequal Treaty of Amity and Commerce not only with America but with other European countries. The radicals condemned this as a surrender of national sovereignty. As part of the agreement, the fishing of village of Yokohama was opened to foreign ships.
In his struggle to have a young and easily influenced Shōgun appointed next, Naosuke undertook a purge of his opponents among the higher-ranking lords. Several were executed and others were forcibly retired. While this cowed their peers, it only inflamed the anger of lower-ranking samurai, and on March 3, 1860 Naosuke was attacked and killed by samurai from the radical imperial faction, seventeen from Mito and one from Satsuma, outside the Sakurada Gate of Edo Castle.
The Shōgunate was taken by surprise by his murder, and his death wasn’t announced until several months later, after they had faked an illness and his resignation. Naosuke was buried in the temple of Gōtoku-ji, in Setagaya, Tokyo.
The imperial faction ultimately prevailed in 1868 and imperial rule was restored, ending the Edo period and marking the start of the Meiji period. Thanks to Naosuke’s attempts to preserve the then legitimate government of Japan, the Ii clan fell into disgrace, at least outside his home region, and the huge city of Yokohama. More recently, his efforts to safeguard an unprepared Japan from more militarily advanced powers have come to be recognised. Realistic statues of Naosuke can be seen in and around Hikone Castle where he spent his youth, and in a park in Yokohama.
