JAPANESE MINKA LXXVI - INTERIORS 17: SLEEPING AREAS 4

The small, close bedrooms discussed in the last few posts, though certainly ‘specialised’ as sleeping spaces, were also commonly used as storerooms for valuables, and sometimes this was their primary role; from the very first time rooms were partitioned off from previously single-space dwellings, there has been a close association between sleeping and storage. Even in the ancient residences of the nobility, the shinden zukuri (寝殿造り), a corner of the dwelling would be enclosed into a nuri-gome (塗籠), a storage room for valuables that was also used as a bedroom. The name nando (納戸) today refers to a storeroom or ‘walk in robe’; but it once also referred to a bedroom of this type. Often the only partitioned room in the dwelling, with solid, windowless external walls on two or three sides, an equally solid partition wall, often of thick timber boards, on the other interior sides, and a single small entrance, these rooms were the obvious choice for the role of ‘safe room’.

An illustration showing a nurigome (at lower left) in a classical shinden-zukuri residence. The design of the partition wall of stout battens and boards, and the closed board door with its kururu-gi bolt and hole to receive the ‘key’, and keyhole, are clearly visible.

The security of these rooms was completed with a type of lock (kagi 鍵) that adds a ‘key’ known as a kururu-kagi (枢鉤, ‘pivot hook’) and a keyhole (kagi-ana 鍵穴) to the basic sill bolt (otoshi-zaru 落し猿, ‘dropping monkey’; or, in this application, kururu-gi くるる木, ‘pivot timber’). The otoshi-zaru is perfectly adequate for locking a room or house against intruders from the inside when people are home, but it can only be operated from its side of the door, so can’t be used to secure an unoccupied room or house when one goes out; further, a ‘snib’ piece called yose-zaru (寄せ猿, ‘closing monkey’) is required to stop the otoshi-zaru from dropping into its sill mortise accidentally when the door is closed, potentially locking the inhabitants out. In the kururu lock, this drawback is turned into a feature: the yose-zaru is omitted and replaced with the kururu-kagi, so that when the door is closed it locks automatically, but the otoshi-zaru can be lifted, and the door opened, from the outside, at least by the person who has the kururu-kagi, but not by anyone else.

A sliding door with three timber bolts: top, an age-zaru (上げ猿 or 揚げ猿, ‘raising monkey’) with yose-zaru (寄せ猿, ‘closing monkey’); middle, a yoko-zaru (横猿, ‘side monkey’); and bottom, an otoshi-zaru (落とし猿 ‘dropping monkey’) or sage-zaru (下げ猿, ‘lowering monkey), with yose-zaru.

An otoshi-zaru bolt in open position. The otoshi-zaru is raised, but the yose-zaru hasn’t been drawn across to hold it in the raised position, suggesting that this door is open and the bolt is being held up by the sill. If someone closed the door from the other side without remembering to draw the yose-zaru across, the otoshi-zaru would drop into its sill mortise, potentially locking the person out.

An old kururu-kagi (枢鉤) on the left, and on the right a diagram showing how it is used to lift a sill bolt (kururu-gi 枢木) from the other side of the door. Also labelled is the door rail (san 桟) which holds the upper part of the bolt.

A scale model showing the inside face of a hinged door with an otoshi-zaru and ‘pivot lock’ (kururu-kagi 枢鉤) coming through the keyhole (kagi-ana 鍵穴), surrounded by an escutcheon (kagi-ana-tate 鍵穴盾). The end of the kururu-kagi has an elbow, and fits into a hole in the otoshi-zaru.

The outside face of the door, showing the handle of the kururu-kagi inserted into the keyhole. When the bent tip of the kururu-kagi is inserted into the hole in the otoshi-zaru and the handle of the kururu-kagi is rotated clockwise, it lifts the bolt out of its sill mortise (visible in this photograph), allowing the door to be opened.

Unlike a modern key, whose uniqueness lies in the arrangement of its teeth, a kururu-kagi is distinguished from other kururu-kagi by its length. Another random kururu-kagi might fit in its keyhole, but if it is too long or too short, it won’t engage with the hole in the kururu-gi. Though kururu-kagi are simple objects, fabricating one would require the skills of a blacksmith, and to make an effective copy a thief would need to know the distance between the keyhole and the hole in the kururu-gi.

The kururu-kagi normally stayed in the possession of the husband and wife; entrusting their daughter-in-law (yome 嫁) with it was an indication of their recognition of her ‘housewife’s rights’ (shufu-ken 主婦権).

JAPANESE MINKA LXXV - INTERIORS 16: SLEEPING AREAS 3

As we have seen, the oldest and most primitive minka either had no bedrooms at all, or, particularly in cold-climate regions, contained small, cell-like rooms that were used exclusively as bedrooms, and the room itself was the bed. Likewise, the inhabitants might have had no bedding other than the straw laid down to sleep on, or only thin boro-boro (暮露暮露, patchwork) or even nettle blankets. In these houses there were no rooms laid with tatami mats, and naturally no closets (oshi-ire 押入) or other facilities for storing bedding either, since none were required: trunks or chests of drawers were enough for the long-term storage of valuables and clothes.

Below are the floor plans of two minka that are representative of bedroom arrangements in cold-climate areas of the country. The first is from a mountainous district in Fukui Prefecture: there are two bedrooms (ne-doko ねどこ), one for the ‘head couple’ (kachо̄ fūfu 家長夫婦), and the other, next to the stable (maya まや), for the young husband and wife; this room sometimes goes by the name umaya-nando (うまやなんど, ‘stable bedroom’). Other than the later addition of a small window, there are no external openings to the main room (de で) whatsoever. The small, windowless bedrooms are dispersed, and occupied according to the composition of the family. While most minka are dark inside, it is only on seeing an interior like this that one truly appreciates the fact that these farmers’ dwellings were, other than for meal-taking, really just for sleeping in.

Plan of the Higashi (東) family house, Fukui Prefecture, is representative of bedroom arrangements in cold-climate minka. The small, windowless bedrooms are dispersed, and occupied according to the composition of the family.

The second plan is from a minka from Tamugimata (田麦俣), Yamagata Prefecture 田麦俣. The o-heya (おへや, ‘honorable bedroom’) is the bedroom of the master and his wife, and the de-beya (でべや, ‘projecting bedroom’) is that of the young couple (waka-fūfu 若夫婦). The subfloor space under the de-beya is used as a chicken coop (tori-goya 鶏小屋, ‘chicken hut’) — perhaps this pairing was to ensure that the young couple rose early. The ko-beya (こべや, ‘small bedroom’) next to the earth-floored niwa (にわ) is the servants’ bedroom.

Another cold-climate minka, the Shibutani (渋谷) family house, Yamagata Prefecture.

In Akita Prefecture, the room behind the chameya (the chanoma 茶の間, ‘tea room’) is the patriarch’s bedroom; the kojiya in the chūmonbu (中門部, the short leg of the L in the L-shaped chūmon zukuri 中門造り minka) is for the young couple, and the ina-beya (稲部屋, ‘rice room’) next to the doma is for the servants.

In the Tо̄hoku region there is a tendency to partition the rear of the interior into multiple cell-like bedrooms, as shown in the example plan below, a magari-ya (曲り屋, another type of L-plan minka) in Iwate Prefecture.

This magari-ya (曲り屋) minka in Iwate contains five bedrooms, each about two jо̄u (帖) in area. The portraits of the occupants are shown above each bedroom: in the first bedroom (A), the ‘head couple’ (kachо̄ fūfu 家長夫婦) — the master of the household (chichi 父, ‘father’) and his wife (haha 母, ‘mother’) — and their younger daughter (shо̄-ni 小２, ‘elementary school second year’); in the second bedroom (B), the master’s mother (obaa オバア, ‘grandma’); in the third bedroom (C), the young couple — the head couple’s oldest son (otto 夫, ‘husband’) and his wife (tsuma 妻, ‘wife’) — and their baby (mago マゴ, ‘grandchild’); in the fourth bedroom (D), the master’s unmarried sister (oba オバ, ‘auntie’) and the head couple’s older daughter (chū-ni 中２, ‘middle school second year’); and in the fifth bedroom (E), the head couple’s three sons: kо̄-ni (高２, ‘high school second year’), shо̄-roku (小ろ６, ‘elementary school sixth year’), and shо̄-ni (小２, ‘elementary school second year’).

The family tree is shown to the right of the portraits, with the composition of each bedroom indicated by the five bubbles (A to E) drawn over their respective occupants.

The family structure and sleeping positions are shown in the diagrams; to quote from architect and scholar Nishiyama Uzо̄ (西山 夘三, 1911-1994):

“In these hiya (ひや, bedroom), slightly larger than one tsubo (hito-tsuba 一坪, roughly 4m²), futon are laid out over the whole floor; they are of course permanent beds (man-nen yuka 万年床). Around the perimeter of the futon are kept changes of clothes, laundry, small sewing boxes and old chests of drawers. The floors of the hiya are a step higher than the uchi (うち) and niwa (にわ); in this, they resemble the nuri-gome (塗籠) of the shinden zukuri (寝殿造り, villa) in which the nobility of the early Heian period lived; on opening the door to enter one of these hiya, more so than entering the typical bedroom, you have the sense that you are entering a sleeping place. The walls and low ceilings are neatly lined with wallpaper (kabe-gami 壁紙), probably to prevent drafts. Because the hiya are only a bit more than two mats (ni-jо̄ 二帖) in area, once they are occupied with chests of drawers, clothes trunks, and so on, there is barely enough room for a person to lie down. Two or three people sleep in these bedrooms. In this particular house there are comparatively many hiya, but not all farmhouses have this kind of bedroom arrangement. There are even examples where five or six people sleep in a single, terribly overcrowded hiya. Adopting this form of bedroom, in which people sleep packed together in such a tight space, is thought to be partly to prevent cold.”

Below is a photograph of the interior of one of the bedrooms (o-heya) in the Shibutani (渋谷) family residence in Yamagata. When a bedroom lacks a high sill to retain straw or husk bedding, as in this case, timber members called ‘straw stops’ (wara-dome 藁止め) may be used instead. They are arranged in a square or rectangle on the floor, then straw is laid down in this ‘bunded area’ to form the bed. In Japanese, railway sleepers are called makura-gi (枕木), ‘pillow timber’, but the wara-dome at the head of the bed was literally that: its upper side was planed into a ‘fish cake’ (kamaboko 蒲鉾) profile and used as a pillow. In the houses of landholders and others, multiple servants would sleep on such a single, long wara-dome, and it is said that in the morning the end of the wara-dome would be struck with a wooden mallet to get them up.

The head ‘straw stop’ (wara-dome 藁止め) set on the floor of a bedroom. It is about 15cm square in section, with its upper face planed into a rounded profile, indicating that it is used as a pillow. Another wara-dome stands upright against the entry door. Yamagata Prefecture.

A ‘fish cake’ (kamaboko 蒲鉾).

As in the layout common in Akita Prefecture mentioned above, there are regions where a bedroom takes up a corner of the earth-floored utility area (niwa にわ). Often this bedroom is in the position where the stable (umaya 厩) would be, or next to the stable, and is called the mukou-zashiki, niwa-zashiki, shimo-zashiki, etc. It is the bedroom for the young couple, for ‘retired’ grandparents, or for servants. Other somewhat ‘out of the way’ or low-status locations for sleeping included the magi (まぎ), a bedroom above the stable for wakaze (若勢, agricultural indentured servants), and the upper floor of the chūmon (the short leg, usually containing a stable) of a chūmon-zukuri (L-plan) minka, which contained a shishi-mado (獅子窓, ‘lion window’, found in the thatched roofs of farmhouses in Akita and Yamagata that functioned both to admit light and allow smoke to escape, named for its supposed resemblance to the head of a lion), and was a sleeping place for children or servants.

The image below shows a bedroom in the Wakayama family (Wakayama-ke 若山家residence, a gasshо̄-zukuri (合掌造り, ‘praying hands construction’) minka in Shо̄kawa village (Shо̄kawa-mura 荘川村), Gifu Prefecture. In addition to the head couple’s bedroom (chо̄da ちょうだ) at the rear of the dwelling, and the chо̄da for female children, the upper part of the enge (えんげ), a dialect name for a hiro-en (広縁), a deep ‘verandah’ (engawa 縁側) on the south side of the dwelling, has been converted into a low-ceilinged mezzanine-type floor (chū-ni-kai 中二階, ‘semi second floor’), which served as the bedroom (shown in the photograph) for the young women of the household. In this region, only the oldest son and his bride were permitted an official marriage; others entered into an arrangement known as tsuma-doi kon (妻訪婚, lit. ‘wife visit marriage’), a form of marriage in which the husband and wife do not cohabitate; instead the husband ‘commutes’ to the wife’s place of residence. This custom is thought to have influenced the location of the bedroom, chosen so as to make it directly accessible from outside.

A bedroom (chouda ちょうだ) in the residence of a large family in Shо̄kawa village (Shо̄kawa-mura 荘川村), Gifu Prefecture. The room is spread with bullrush (gama 蒲, Typha latifolia) mats (mushiro 莚) called gama-mushiro (蒲莚), and contains a trunk (naga-mochi 長持), lantern (andon 行燈), sewing box (hari-bako 針箱), wooden pillow (ki-makura 木枕), and other items, lending it an antiquated atmosphere.　

JAPANESE MINKA LXXIV - INTERIORS 15: SLEEPING AREAS 2

The evolution of Japanese sleeping spaces is perhaps counter-intuitive from a European perspective, where private, specialised bedrooms are seen as the natural developmental end-point. As we will see, in Japan, the general sequence of development has been: single-space dwellings → small, closet-like dedicated bedrooms → larger, more open multi-purpose rooms; and today, with the Westernisation of Japanese dwellings, a return to private, dedicated bedrooms; but this latter development is beyond our scope.

The first houses humans built were built as ‘lairs’. Of all the functions of a dwelling, its most important is as a sleeping place. Primitive Japanese houses were such enclosures: the whole interior was a single space, and the whole space was for sleeping. So long as a degree of inconvenience and discomfort can be endured, all activities other than sleeping can be undertaken outdoors, but for restful sleep, it is absolutely necessary to have a space with an enclosed perimeter, to protect the body against external attack, predation by wild animals, rain, and cold.

Around the Tempо̄ (天保) era (1831 - 1845), the Edo-period merchant and essayist Suzuki Bokushi (鈴木牧之, 1770 - 1842) travelled to Akiyama-gо̄ (秋山郷), a mountainous district straddling Nagano and Niigata Prefectures, an area of extremely remote rural villages where many old customs survived until relatively recently. Suzuki recorded his impressions in the best-seller Hokuetsu-seppu (北越雪譜, Hokuetsu Snow Notes), published in 1837. Hokuetsu (北越) refers to the west-coast ‘snow country’ (yuki-guni 雪国) region, roughly comprised of the current-day prefectures of Fukui, Ishikawa, Niigata, and Toyama. Suzuki writes:

“The people of Akiyama all sleep in their clothes. They have nothing in the way of bedding. On winter nights they build a big fire in the irori and sleep around it. When it is very cold, they gather straw from other places* and make bags with it to sleep in. Those with wives make bigger bags, and husband and wife go together into the same opening.”

*Farmers in this area practiced slash-and-burn cultivation, so had to source their straw from the plains (hirachi 平地).

As various other domestic activities were gradually brought inside, the first thing to be partitioned off from the rest of the space was the bedroom (shinshitsu 寝室, ‘sleep room’), though these rooms also functioned, sometimes primarily, as ‘safe rooms’ for the storage of valuables. In the Japan Open-Air Folk House Museum in Toyonaka, Osaka Prefecture, there is a minka from Akiyama-gо̄, the former Yamada family (Yamada-ke 山田家) residence. This L-plan (chūmon-zukuri 中門造り) dwelling, unlike the one described by Suzuki above, has a bedroom. It is a hiroma-type three-room layout (hiroma-gata san-madori (広間型三間取り), but the interior is largely open: the nakanoma and dei are only divided by sills, and the bedroom (heya へや), though enclosed with board walls, has a mat (mushiro 莚) hanging over it its entrance in place of a solid door. The dwelling itself has reed-thatched exterior walls, and there are no raised timber floor areas; the earth floor of this ‘earth-sitting dwelling’ (土座住まい) is spread thickly with reed heads and varieties of straw. While this minka is still fairly primitive, it at least has a bedroom with solid, carefully built walls, such that the room could have also been used to store valuables, with the addition of a proper door.

Exterior of the former Yamada (山田) family residence, built in 1776.

Interior view of the Yamada family residence, taken from the niwa looking across the living room (naka-no-ma なかのま) towards the bedroom (heya へや) on the left, with hanging mat over the entrance and high sill, and the open formal room (dei でい) on the right.

Plan of the former Yamada family residence. The bedroom (heya) へや) is at the top right.

Bedrooms of this type, which were still being used even into the 1970s in villages in remote or cold regions, were usually extremely ‘close’ and dark, with solid walls on all four sides, broken only by a small entrance. In warmer climates such as that of the Kinki region, they might have been relatively large, perhaps around six tatami mats in area (9.9 m²), but in cold regions like Tо̄hoku, many are as small as two mats (3.3 m²). Such small, dark sleeping closets were thought effective for peaceful rest, to prevent cold, and to protect against the danger presented by bandits and others.

The whole floor of the bedroom would be spread thickly with soft straw, or, in mountain villages, some variety of rice husk (ine-kara 稲殻 or fue-gara). So that this material would not spill out of the room, the entrance sill was set 20 cm or more above floor level, and had to be straddled to enter. In some areas, this high sill is called haji-kakushi (はじかくし, ‘shame/embarrassment hider’); in other areas it is called hako-doko (箱床 lit. ‘box floor’), because the bed entirely occupies the space within the four walls. Often people would sleep on a thin woven straw sleeping mat (ne-goza 寝ござ) or a large hemp ‘wrapping cloth’ (furoshiki 風呂敷) laid on top of the bedding material, but children and others might sleep burrowed directly into the compacted straw. The term ‘permanent bed’ (man-nen-doko 万年床, lit. ‘ten thousand year bed’) is used in Japan today to describe futon that are ‘unmade’, i.e. not stored away every morning as is proper, but left permanently on the floor, suggesting laziness. Obviously loose straw, let alone rice husks, cannot be practically taken up and stored away every day, especially when there is no storage facility, so the bedrooms described above were true man-nen-doko, without the negative connotations implied by the modern usage of the term.

A negoza (寝茣蓙) sleeping mat.

People slept in these bedrooms completely naked (suppadaka 素裸), either covering their bodies with their day-clothes, or drawing over themselves a patchwork (boro-boro) blanket made of boro (襤褸), rags and ragged clothes, stitched together. This latter practice was common enough that there was even a trade in buying up boro in the Kansai region for bulk resale in the Kantо̄ region.

A boro ‘quilt’ from the 19th century.

Even where households had some form of bedding (in the village Suzuki writes of there were two such houses), it was reserved for guests. Suzuki himself was given the use of this bedding when he stayed a night at one of these houses: a thick cloth (tafu 太布) woven from nettle (ira-kusa 刺草, Urtica thunbergiana), which he soon discovered still contained traces of the stinging hairs (ira 刺). Suzuki gives us his thoughts on this experience, writing:

“I slept on this bedding, but that lint found its way into the folds (suso 裾) [of my kimono], and also much into the lining (awase 袷); it is not something that should be near the body.”

From Kantо̄ to the Tо̄hoku region, there were forms of bedding that differed from the simple rectangular blankets found in Kansai: sleeved yogi (夜着 ‘night gown’) that resembled kimono (着物), and another type known as yo-busuma or yu-bushima (夜衾 ‘night fusuma’). Fusuma (衾), not to be confused with the homophonic fusuma (襖), the opaque sliding door panels of traditional Japanese homes, is a type of bedding used to cover the body, first recorded among the nobility of the Heian period (平安時代, 794 - 1185). Later yogi and yo-busuma used by common people were somewhat different to the original aristocratic versions, but retained the names.

A winter yogi.

Kamakura Period (鎌倉時代 1185 - 1333) nobility sleeping on tatami mats under kimono.

JAPANESE MINKA LXXIII - INTERIORS 14: SLEEPING AREAS 1

It is well understood that the external appearance of any vernacular dwelling is an expression of the various factors that make up its local environment and culture, be that climate, material and technological availability, economic conditions, social and legal codes, and so on. Of course, the evolution of a dwelling’s interior is likewise influenced by the same things; but perhaps less often recognised is that the unfixed contents of the dwelling are also vessels of these factors, and so can have equally significant effects on the internal planning and ‘occupational style’ of the dwelling, even when they may have seemingly little to do with architecture.

These effects may be more evident in traditional or historical vernacular dwellings, but they are also present in our own modern houses, though over-familiarity might make them less obvious to us. Carpet, for example, is an ancient technology, but wall-to-wall fitted carpet only really became feasible after the invention of the vacuum cleaner. There is a modern tendency to think that our things are the way they are because we know better than the people of the past, when we are simply responding, often passively or reflexively, to the particular conditions of our time, just as our ancestors did. In the case of architecture, because buildings can become ‘stranded’ by lasting much longer than the conditions that gave rise to them, it is easy to forget that elements of their design that may strike us today as illogical or irrational probably made perfect sense when they were built. Conversely, the conditions of our own time have made possible certain designs and living arrangements that would have been impractical or nonsensical before these conditions existed.

The subject of the next several posts — the bedrooms (shinshitsu 寝室), sleeping spaces (nema 寝間), and sleeping places (shinjo 寝所) of minka — provides, in the story of the evolution of these spaces, an excellent example of the kind of effects that material and technological developments, as manifested in domestic objects — in this case bedding (shingu 寝具) — can have on the internal development of a dwelling.

Two futon laid out in a Japanese-style room (wa-shitsu 和室) in a modern dwelling.

JAPANESE MINKA LXXII - INTERIORS 13: WET AREAS 4

The ‘sink place’ (nagashi-ba 流し場, lit. ‘flowing place’) is one of the central features and facilities of the indoor wet area or ‘water use place’ (mizu-tsukai-ba 水使い場). In the Kansai region the sink (nagashi 流し, lit. ‘flowing’) is often called the hashiri (はしり), from the verb hashiru (走る, to run), which exactly describes piped mountain water flowing ceaselessly into the sink; in the Niigata area it is called the mizu-ban (水盤, ‘water bowl’), a name that seems fitting when one is filling the wash bucket (arai-oke 洗い桶) with water from the water jar (mizu-game 水甕) adjacent to the sink.

Sinks are categorised both according to where they are in the dwelling, and the posture taken when using them. Regarding the former, there is the doma nagashi (土間流し), a nagashi built in the earth-floored utility area (doma 土間); and the yuka-ue nagashi (床上流し, lit. ‘floor-upon sink’), a nagashi built in the raised, board-floored kitchen (daidokoro 台所). As for the latter, there is the tachi-nagashi (立ち流し, ‘standing sink’), used while standing; and the suwari-nagashi (坐り流し, ‘sitting sink’), used while kneeling or squatting. The yuka-ue suwari-nagashi (床上坐り流し), a sink used while sitting on a raised, boarded floor, is associated with the mizu-ya (水屋) of the tea ceremony (chaseki 茶席), and is thought to be an old style of nagashi. In Kyūshū, the bottom of the sink consists of a bamboo screen (takesu 竹簀); these sinks are called arendoko (あれんどこ), from ara(i no) toko(ro) 洗(いの)所, ‘washing place’.

A ‘sitting sink’ (suwari-nagashi 坐り流し) built in one corner of the doma of an ‘earth-sitting dwelling’ (土座住まい). Water is drawn into it via a pipe. Shiga Prefecture.

An indoor well (uchi-ido 内井戸) and stone ‘standing sink’ (tachi-nagashi 立ち流し) built in the kitchen (daidoko(ro) 台所) of a townhouse (machiya 町家). Shiga Prefecture.

An ‘on-floor standing sink’ (yuka-ue tachi-nagashi 床上立ち流し) built in the board-floored kitchen (katte かって); to its left is a stove (hettsui へっつい) with attached flue (entotsu 煙突), and above it shelving for pots, etc. Yamagata Prefecture.

An ‘on-floor sitting sink’ (yuka-ue suwari-nagashi 床上坐り流し) and water jar in a projecting alcove in the south wall of a multi-purpose room called the idoko. Above them are cupboards for tableware. Nagano Prefecture.

A ‘water use place’ (mizu-tsukai-ba 水使い場) with sitting sink (suawari-nagashi 坐り流し). Piped water is received into a small joined-timber sink called here a masu (桝), which sits in a stepped-down slatted floor area where both cooking tasks and laundry are done. Yamagata Prefecture.

JAPANESE MINKA LXXI - INTERIORS 12: WET AREAS 3

Wells (ido 井戸, lit. ‘well door’) belong to the category of man-made water infrastructure. Wells are essentially just holes dug in the ground that provide an opening or ‘door’ (to 戸) onto a source of groundwater, making it accessible from the surface. If necessary, the hole is reinforced with a lining, as represented pictorially by the kanji 井 (i ‘well’).

Wells have a long history in Japan: timbers determined to be the lining boards of large wells have been excavated from the ruins of Nara Period (Nara jidai 奈良時代, 710 - 794) temples. Common folk could not hope to have such large or deep wells at their houses, however; their wells, such as they were, might rather be thought of as ‘augmented springs’ intended to give a helping hand to naturally-occurring seeping sources of groundwater, by increasing or concentrating the volume of emerging water to make collecting it more practical. The picture below is an example of such a well, called a yoko-ido (横井戸 ‘horizontal well’) or yoko-ana-mizu (横穴水 ‘horizontal hole water’). Often these wells were dug into the bank or foot (suso 裾) of the mountain or hill behind the house, probably because digging sideways is easier than digging vertically down.

Long ago, ‘horizontal holes’ excavations made in banks until the mountain water emerged/seeped out. These old wells are of a type called yoko-ana-mizu (横穴水, ‘horizontal hole water’). Fukui Prefecture.

Even when vertical wells were dug, the excavation would be shallow, and made in a place where the water table was high enough that water seemed already about to emerge; such wells were called asa-ido (浅井戸 ‘shallow well’) or shaku-ido (杓井戸 ‘ladle well’). For the lucky few, there were also artesian wells (fuke-i 噴け井 ‘spouting well’), where underground water comes to the surface under its own pressure.

A shallow well called a shaku-ido (杓井戸 ‘ladle well’). To prevent leaves and other debris from falling into it, it has been covered with a roof made of naturally curved timbers clad with Japanese cedar (sugi 杉) bark. Saitama Prefecture.

As mentioned, the construction of a well required both technical ability and significant expense, so most wells were communal, built in the village ‘square’ (hiro-ba 広場, lit. ‘wide place’), like that shown below. These deep ‘dug wells’ (hori-ido 堀り井戸) used a tsurube (釣瓶, lit. ‘fishing bottle’), a bucket or other container attached to a rope, to draw water from the well, and so were called tsuru-i (釣る井 ‘fishing well’), among other names. The two wells in the photograph below are kuruma-ido (車井戸, ‘wheel well’); each uses a pulley wheel and chain to raise and lower twin buckets.

Two communal wells in the village square. The wells are kuruma-ido (車井戸 ‘wheel well’) that utilise pulley wheels. That there are two wells is probably explained by a division of use: one well for drinking water, the other for general purposes. Kyо̄to Prefecture.

There are also wells that employ as their lifting mechanism a hane-tsurube (跳ね鶴瓶, ‘jumping/bouncing bucket’), a counterbalanced structure somewhat like a yajiro-be-e (弥次郎兵衛) toy, with the bucket on a rope or pole at one end of the lever arm and a balance stone tied to the other.

A traditional balancing toy known as a yajiro-be-e (弥次郎兵衛).

A hane-tsurube and well.

A series of hane-tsurube used to flood rice fields from an irrigation canal (yо̄suirо 用水路, lit. ‘use water road’).

Both kuruma-ido and hane-tsurube well types allow one to use one’s body weight to pull down to lift the water bucket, which is much easier than pulling it up directly.

In the Meiji period (Meiji jidai 明治時代 1868 - 1912), the yashiki-ido (屋敷井戸, ‘villa well’), the private well for the individual use of a single family, previously limited to the houses of upper-strata farming families and temple residences, began to appear in the houses of commoners. In the preceding feudal era (hansei jidai 藩政時代), the amount of water allowed to commoners was extremely small, such that people were said to bathe only once a month, and tableware items would be put away in their box trays (hakozen 箱膳) without being washed; but with the abolition of the class system and its sumptuary laws in the Meiji period, the customs and habits of the upper classes gradually penetrated down to the masses. This change, together with advances in the understanding of hygiene, meant that the yashiki-ido and indoor well (uchi-ido 内井戸) spread rapidly.

The ‘villa well’ (yashiki-ido 屋敷井戸) at the house of a wealthy merchant, with a magnificent stone well enclosure and a shrine for the well deity (ido-kami-sama 井戸神様). Okayama Prefecture.

An indoor well (uchi-ido 内井戸) built in the niwa (the earth-floored utility area, usually doma) of a townhouse (machiya 町家) near Kyо̄to; next to it is a ‘standing sink’ (tachi-nagashi, 立流し). Shiga Prefecture.

JAPANESE MINKA LXX - INTERIORS 11: WET AREAS 2

Last week’s post briefly touched on the man-made waterways (yо̄suirо 用水路, lit. ‘use water road’) - the irrigation waterways, canals, ditches, charged gutters, and so on - that are ubiquitous in Japan. Before the introduction of underground reticulated water supplies, these yо̄suirо served as a source of domestic water for many households, particularly in urban areas. The water drawn off from them was called tsukai-gawa (使い川, lit. ‘use river’), kawaba (川場 lit. ‘river place’), and so on; it was conveyed to either an indoor or an outdoor wet area (mizu-tsukai-ba 水使い場, ‘water use place’), as shown in the images below. In either case, there would be a simple shelf for storing pots, kettles, and other implements at the point of use. This facility is called the mizu-ya (水屋, ‘water roof/house’) in Shiga, mizu-goya (水小屋 ‘water hut’) in Tottori, kawa-dana (川棚 ‘water shelf’) in Saitama, kaidana (かいだな, prob. ‘river shelf’) in Gunma; in and east of Chūbu it is kawa-do (かわど, prob. ‘river place’), kawa-ba (かわば, ‘river place’), kado (かど), etc. In the ‘moat farmhouses’ (kangо̄ nо̄ka 環濠農家) of the Kita Kawachi (北河内) district of О̄saka Prefecture, the perimeter of the eave projecting from the moat-facing side of the main house (omo-ya 母屋) is enclosed to form a wet area, called the hinara (ひなら).

An indoor mizu tsukai-ba served by water that has been branched off from an outdoor source. Gifu Prefecture.

A mizu-ya (水屋, ‘water roof’) erected at the mizo-gawa in front of a house. There are shelves for pots and tableware, and preparatory cooking tasks are undertaken here, outdoors. In the main house there is only a jar (kame 甕) for drinking water. Shiga Prefecture.

The same mizu-tsukai-ba as shown above, in use. Shiga Prefecture.

In contrast to a communal spring, which is somewhat like a natural tap or faucet, where the source of water ‘upstream’ of the point of delivery is protected from pollution or despoilation by being underground, the quality of an exposed, surface-flowing water source such as a yо̄suiro cannot be preserved if every household that relies on it uses it however they please; in particular, downstream users can suffer from the actions of those upstream. So various regulations and etiquettes arose, just as they do when rivers flow through multiple states or countries. General wastewater was directed to a man-made pond (tame-ike 溜池), often used as a carp-breeding pond (yо̄ri-ike 養鯉池) or for some other productive purpose; rice water and urine were used as fertiliser; nappies (diapers) and underwear were washed in water drawn into a tub (tarai 盥) that was then emptied into a dedicated drainage channel. There were also rules relating to times of use: early mornings, for example, were reserved for drawing drinking water, and only after around 7am was it considered acceptable to use the water source for other purposes.

Management and use of a village’s water infrastructure was carefully planned and anticipated from the outset. The picture below shows an example in Gо̄barajuku (郷原宿), an old inn town in Nagano Prefecture. Water for general use (yо̄sui 用水, ‘use water’) flows in front of the roadside houses, while potable water is provided at communal, roofed wells built at regular intervals.

An example of water infrastructure planning: in the village of Gо̄barajuku (郷原宿), a roofed well providing water for drinking (inryо̄-yо̄ 飲料用) has been built, in accordance with the regulations, next to a yо̄suirо carrying general ‘use water’ (tsukai-mizu 使い水) for other purposes. Nagano Prefecture.

Below is an example from Fukui Prefecture. Flights of two or three stone steps are installed at the washing places (arai-ba 洗い場) in front of each house to provide access down to the yо̄suiro. In the winter months, such waterways function as ‘snow disposal gutters’ (ryūsetsukо̄ 流雪溝, lit. ‘flow snow gutter’), carrying away the snow that falls from roofs; they can often be seen in old towns and villages in the Hokuriku region.

Mizu-tsukai-ba established at a man-made ‘gutter’ (yо̄suirо 用水路) running in front of townhouses in a town in Mikata-chо̄ (三方町), Fukui Prefecture. A short flight of stone steps leading down to the water is visible in the lower right corner. This yо̄suirо also serves as a ‘snow disposal gutter’ (ryūsetsukо̄ 流雪溝) to carry away the snow that accumulates on roofs and in front of the houses.

Of the two methods of drawing from either natural or artificial sources of flowing water, those that use pipes (kan 管) are called kakehi-mizu (筧水 ‘pipe water’) or yama-mizu (山水 ‘mountain water’), and those that use open channels (mizo 溝) are called nagare-gawa (流れ川 ‘flowing river’), etc. Mizo is usually translated into English as trench, ditch, drain, channel, gully, gutter, etc., but these words can seem inadequate or inappropriate to describe something like that shown below: even today the water flowing in these waterways is often so clear and clean that aquatic plants, frogs, fish, and even sometimes fireflies can be found in them.

A yо̄suiro in Nishiwaki, Hyо̄go Prefecture.

In addition to ‘artificial’ water sources such as yо̄suirо, natural springs (waku-izumi 湧泉) were also heavily utilised, particularly in rural and mountainous areas. Springs may be, as in the image below, of the kiyo-mizu (清水, lit. ‘pure water’) type, where the water seeps out from the belly (hara 腹) of a mountain; or they may be of the type found in the Susono (裾野) region of Fuji (富士), Shizuoka Prefecture, where underground water flows out like a river to the surface.

A ‘water scooping place’ (mizu-kumi-ba 水汲み場), where spring water seeping out from the belly of the mountain is collected for use. Nara Prefecture.

This is not a normal mountain stream that has ‘picked up steam’ over a long distance from many small springs and streamlets feeding into it; it is groundwater that has emerged from a high-volume spring only a short distance upstream. Shizuoka Prefecture.

Below is a communal village mizu-tsukai-ba built at a moderately-sized spring in the foothills (sanroku 山麓) of the Yatsugatake (八ヶ岳) mountain range straddling Nagano and Yamanashi Prefectures. It is a social gathering place for the villagers; they have also expressed their gratitude for the water by enshrining the water deities (mizu-gami 水神) here.

A communal mizu-tsukai-ba built at a spring, enshrining the water deities; it is also indispensable as a social gathering place for the villagers. Nagano Prefecture.

Springs are called deshizu (出清水 ‘out pure water’) in Tо̄hoku and Hokuriku, kama (かま) in Chiba, demizu (出水 ‘out water’) in Chūgoku, and also kumi-kawa (汲み川 ‘drawing river’), tsubokawa (壷川 ‘pot river’), ike (いけ, ‘pond’), etc.; these names are used indiscriminately to refer to either piped or channelled water. There are many places where spring water (yūsui 湧水) is mainly used for drinking, as indicated by the name nomi-kawa (飲み川 ‘drinking river’); the water is drawn with a ladle (hishaku 柄杓) into water buckets (oke 桶) and carried back to each house to be stored in the large water jar (mizu-game 水甕) that sits beside the ‘sink board’ (nagashi-dai 流し台) in each house.

A glazed water jar (mizu-game 水甕), with wooden lid and ladle, stands next to the ‘sink board’ (nagashi-dai 流し台) in this diorama of the kitchen of a minka.

JAPANESE MINKA LXIX - INTERIORS 10: WET AREAS 1

Though water is of course indispensable to life, and to the ‘living’ of the house, many old Japanese farmhouses (nо̄ka 濃家) lacked their own ‘water use place’ (mizu-tsukai-ba 水使い場) and related facilities. Digging a private well for an individual dwelling was prohibitively expensive, so until relatively recently such wells did not exist, with the exception of the ‘villa wells’ (yashiki ido 屋敷井戸) of very wealthy families. Instead, the bank (hotori 畔) of a stream flowing past the front gate (kado-saki 門先) or back door (sedo 背戸), the village spring (yūsui 湧水), or the communal well (kyо̄dо̄-ido 共同井戸) served the same functions. These locations were also vital places of communication for the village.

A ‘water use place’ (mizu-tsukai-ba 水使い場) at a stream, a common natural source of flowing surface water. Though it has been largely left in its natural state, there are still various rules that relate to its use.

In mountain villages, the springs and streams (keisui 渓水) that supplied the villages with water were at a higher elevation than the houses, so drawing from them was comparatively easy, and there are many examples of such villages where each house was furnished with its own sink (nagashi 流し) and ‘wet area’ (mizu-ya 水屋, lit. ‘water roof’). Today the name mizu-ya is primarily used to refer to an alcove in a tea room (chashitsu 茶室) where items for the tea ceremony (cha-no-yu 茶の湯) are prepared and washed, but in its broadest sense, a mizu-ya is simply a place where water is used.

A modern tea ceremony mizu-ya (水屋), with reticulated water supply and shelves for the tea bowls, whisks, and other utensils.

When establishing a settlement, the preference was naturally for a place with easy access to water, but on the plains, fertile land favourable for cultivation was the priority, so farms and houses appeared even where the water sources necessary for irrigation and daily life were somewhat inaccessible, and the many challenges and difficulties presented by such places were subsequently overcome by the energy of the villagers in constructing artificial irrigation channels and other waterways (yо̄suirо 用水路, lit. ‘use water road’; suiro 水路 means ‘aqueduct’). Water flows in many of these structures to this day, and here and there you can still see the washing places (arai-ba 洗い場) that were established along them.

A yо̄suirо used for crop irrigation. Toyama Prefecture.

Even so, in places with low-volume springs and wells where water was especially scarce, a ‘water-drawing (mizu-kumi 水汲み) timetable’ was implemented, and a household could only fetch water when their turn came, which in some places might even mean waking up and going out in the middle of the night. There were also places where the rainwater that fell on roofs and trees, called tensui (天水, lit. ‘heaven water’) or kimizu (木水, lit. ‘tree water’), was collected and made use of.

In this way, the type of facilities present at the mizu-tsukai-ba, and the nature of its use, depended on the nature of the water source, and each had its own characteristic features. In places blessed with an abundance of springs and streams, water was carried through bamboo pipes (take-kan 竹管) and timber gutters (ki-doi 木樋); such devices were called kakehi (掛樋, 懸樋, 筧 ‘water pipe’).

To convey water, a bamboo tube could be used, with the internal nodes (fushi or setsu 節) knocked out; or, as here, a hollowed-out log, in this case Japanese chestnut (kuri 栗, Castanea crenata). Gifu Prefecture.

The water so conveyed was often received into a water tub or tank (fune 槽) called a mizu-bune, not written ‘水槽’ but ‘水舟’ (lit. ‘water boat’), and often abbreviated to simply fune (ふね). The mizu-bune was made out of a large hollowed-out tree, or of stone, or was constructed as a box-like trough with large jointed boards; these fune might be in the village ‘square’ (hiroba 広場) for communal use, or at each house for the use of individual families.

Water troughs at the communal mizu-tsukai-ba established in the village ‘square’. When this photograph was taken, the village had been provided with a simple water supply system; previously, bamboo tubes had been used to carry water. Yamagata Prefecture.

A water trough for an individual household, fed by a pipe. Over it is a rain cover (ame-о̄i 雨覆い) that makes skilful use of naturally curved timbers, supported by a single post. Gifu Prefecture.

In the mountain villages in the vicinity of the famous village of Shirakawa-gо̄ (白川郷) in Hida (飛騨), large water usage areas (mizu-tsukai-ba 水使い場) called minja (みんじゃ) are provided, with large tree-trunk mizu-bune filled with clean spring water, which is further directed into channels (mizo 溝) for doing laundry (sentaku 洗濯) and other uses.

In Shirakawa village and vicinity in the Hida district, there are expansive communal water-use places called minja (みんじゃ), where pristine spring water (kokusui 谷水, lit. ‘valley water) flows ceaselessly into large troughs made from hollowed-out logs. Gifu Prefecture.

JAPANESE MINKA LXVIII - INTERIORS 9: KAMADO 3

This post is the last on Japanese stoves (kamado 釜土), and will simply present more examples, if only to give a sense of the great variety of kamado that once existed in minka.

The picture below shows a small ‘two-burner’ kamado in a house north of Lake Biwa. It is located in the dwelling’s earth-floored ‘habitable doma’, known in this area as the niuji (にうじ). Likewise, in this region the kamado is called the fudo, and the large ceremonial kama, the о̄-kama (大釜 ‘big kama’), is called the о̄-fudo. The niuji is swept clean until it appears polished, and wearing footwear in it is not allowed. A mat (goza 茣蓙) is laid on the earth floor in the framed area in front of the kamado.

The fudo in an earth-sitting dwelling (doza-sumai 土座住まい). The doma is kept impeccably clean, and shoes are not allowed to be worn in it. The stove is tended from the reed mat (goza 茣蓙) laid in front of it. Hirai family (Hirai-ke 平井家) residence, Shiga Prefecture.

Below is a kamado from a minka at the foot of Mt. Akagi (Akagi-yama 赤城山) in Gunma Prefecture; here the kamado is called hettsui. This example is built into one corner a deep, stone-lined irori; the wife tends both the irori and the hettsui from the ki-jiri (木尻) position between the irori and the doma, from the ki-jiri-dai (木尻台, ‘wood tail platform), which is a step down in level from the main floor.

A kamado built into a corner of the irori, expressing a division of function: the kamado is used for ‘boiling’ (ni-taki 煮炊き) cooking. Akuzawa family (Akuzawa-ke 阿久沢家) house, Gunma Prefecture.

The image below, from Tottori Prefecture, shows an example of a kamado built on the sill (agari-kamachi 上がり 框) side of the kaka-za (かか座), the wife’s seating position, from which the irori and kamado are used in combination for cooking.

A kamado built next to the wife’s seat (kaka-za 嚊座) at the irori, at the edge of the doma. The irori is used only for heating, and boiling water. Tottori Prefecture.

Below is an example of an old, primitive style of kamado: the pot or kettle rests on three stones placed in the irori, which is surrounded by a timber frame. This example is from Amami-О̄shima (奄美大島).

A primitive kamado suggestive of the kamado’s origins, consisting of three stones plastered with clay. Kagoshima Prefecture.

The picture below is an example of how, in regions with cold climates, there is a tendency over time for the kudo to sidle up to the raised, board-floored ‘living room’ or multi-purpose room; a duckboard or slat panel (sunoko 簀の子) is placed in front of the kudo, or a low board floor built there, from which to tend the stove.

Here the kamado has drawn up to the edge of the multi-purpose room. The sink area behind it has already acquired a board floor (and modern kitchen unit); next in the modernisation of the doma, a timber slat floor panel (sunoko 簀の子) would be laid in front of the kamado, then this area too would eventually be floored. Kyо̄to City.

In even colder climates, the kudo is moved right up into the board-floored ‘kitchen’ or daidoko, which also contains an irori, as shown in the image below; the irori and kudo are united within a single perimeter frame. The mountainous region of northern Kyо̄to Prefecture is once such area.

Here the kudo has migrated to the centre of the gathering room for eating and family time (danran 団らん). The irori and the kamado are enclosed within the same frame. Kyо̄to.

Kudo in Kinki region prefectures such as Kyо̄to and Nara are, as in the picture below, often built in a semi-circular magatama plan-form, and carefully finished in fine plaster. After being smoothed with a trowel (kote 鏝), the plaster is polished with camellia (tsubaki 椿, Camellia japonica) leaves.

A seven-burner kudo in the Rakuhoku (洛北) district in north Kyо̄to City. The curved plan-form allows a single person to tend each fire and pot from a central position.

The kamado shown below is in the doji (doma) of the Tsurutomi villa (Tsurutomi-yashiki 鶴富屋敷), built in the early 19th century, in Shiiba village (Shiiba-son 椎葉村), Miyazaki Prefecture. The stove consists of two units: a two-burner stone о̄-kama, and a smaller two-burner kamado for everyday use. The board-floored area behind the stove is called kama-no-ushiro (釜の後ろ, ‘stove’s behind’), kama-sedo (釜背戸, ‘stove back door’), etc., and is used for food preparation and serving.

A two-part, four-burner kamado for both formal and everyday uses. Miyazaki Prefecture.

Below is a kudo installed in the tо̄ri-niwa (通り庭) of a townhouse (machiya 町家) in Kyо̄to City. The tо̄ri-niwa is the long ‘strip’ doma that runs the full length of the narrow machiya, from the street to the rear. From right to left in the picture is the white-plastered о̄-kama-sama, the to-gama (斗釜, ‘to stove’; one to 斗 is 18.039 litres), and the roku-dai (六台, lit. ‘six platform’, presumably a six-burner unit), only partly visible.

A kudo in the tо̄ri-niwa of a Kyо̄to townhouse (kyo-machiya 京町家). The о̄-kama-sama is decorated with a pine branch.

Finally, the picture below shows another о̄-kama-sama (大釜様, ‘honorable big stove’; sama is an honorific, more formal and respectful than san) in Kyо̄to adorned with pine and sakaki branches, enshrining the stove deity. It is not used day-to-day, but only on formal occasions.

An о̄-kama-sama adorned with pine and sakaki branches. Inoue family (Inoue-ke 井上家) residence, Kyо̄to.

JAPANESE MINKA LXVII - INTERIORS 8: KAMADO 2

As discussed in a previous post, many of the dialect names for irori, including the word irori itself, express the meaning of ‘a place of people/a place where people are’ (hito no idokoro 人の居所); many others, such as hidoko (火所) and hodo (ほど), have the sense of ‘fire place’ (hi-sho 火所). There are places where these same names are used to refer to the kamado, and regions where the word kamado is used to refer to the central part of the irori; thus we can observe the same mixing and blurring of boundaries in the names for the irori and the kamado as we do in the geographical distribution of the things themselves.

In many regions, the kamado is called the kudo (くど), or less commonly the hettsui (へっつい); in Shiga Prefecture and elsewhere, it is called the fudo (ふど). Kudo and fudo are both cognates of hodo and so belong to the ‘place of fire’ group of names. Especially grand kudo can be found in Kyо̄to and Nara in the Kinki region, and the section of the doma where they are installed is called the kamaya (釜屋, lit. ‘pot house’), a name that originally referred to a separate building, and has survived the merger of this building with the main house. The kudo of the Kinki region have characteristically beautiful magatama-shaped (magatama-gata 勾玉形) plan-forms, and are carefully finished in fine plaster, sometimes into pillowy, marshmallow-like shapes.

A collection of magatama (勾玉),the curved, comma or embryo-shaped stone beads produced from the late Jо̄mon period (from roughly the 6th century BC) into the Kofun period (300 AD - 586 AD).

Smaller kudo might consist of just three pots, each with its own fire, pot opening, and ‘feeder opening’ (taki-guchi 焚き口, lit. ‘burning mouth’): the ‘rice pot’ (meshi-gama 飯釜), the ‘greens pot’ (sai-gama or na-gama 菜釜), and the ‘tea kettle’ (cha-gama 茶釜). The image below shows a three-burner kamado constructed in a shallow pit dug into the doma floor, an old method that is often seen in very old minka. Its perimeter would have been spread with nekoda (ねこだ, large mats of woven straw or rope) and a wooden bench (suwari-ki 坐り木) placed in front of it.

The older the style of kamado, the lower the ‘firebox opening’ is. When tending such a stove, one sits on the doma (on a stool or bench) with one’s feet in the shallow excavation; this style probably originated in the pit dwellings (tate-ana jūkyo 竪穴住居) of the Jо̄mon period. Former residence of the О̄ta family (О̄ta-ke太田家, originally in Ibaraki Prefecture, now in the Japan Open-Air Folk House Museum (Nihon Minka-en 日本民家園) in Kanagawa Prefecture.

To borrow a term from the modern gas stove, the largest stoves might have as many as eleven ‘burners’, each with its own fire, arranged in order of size in a curved enclosure that allows a single person to manage each fire and pot from a central sitting position.

In the ‘head house’ of the main family line (honke-suji 本家筋), one of these ‘burners’ will be of extremely large construction, and is called o-kama-san (おかまさん, ‘honourable stove’) or some similar name that conveys a sense of respect. These kama were not for daily use, but were decorated with pine branches or sakaki (榊, Cleyera japonica) cuttings, and enshrined the ‘stove gods’ such as Sanbо̄ Kо̄jin (三宝荒神, often simply Kо̄jin), the Japanese Buddhist deity of fire and the hearth. In Kyūshū, these kama are called doku-don (どくどん), ugama-don (うがまどん), or the like; don (殿, usually dono) is an honorific somewhat higher in respect than san, with the meaning of ‘lord’ or ‘master’. These stoves were only used for once-a-year tasks such as boiling the beans to make miso (味噌, fermented soy-bean paste) or the rice to make mochi (餅, cooked rice that is pounded into a smooth, glutinous, gel-like texture), or on formal ceremonial occasions. There was no real need for such a large kama in the houses of the branch families, as these families would gather at the main house to use its oya-kamado (親かまど, lit. ‘parent stove’), which had to be large enough to accommodate them all.

The image below shows the interior of the kama-ya of an old Yamato (current Nara Prefecture) family minka. Only the lower few kama are for daily use; the majority are о̄ya-kamado reserved for the public or communal events of the branch families of the village. As it is an eleven-burner stove, and tended by multiple people at once, the kamaya space in which it stands is also extremely large.

In the houses of district administrators/authorities (о̄jо̄ya 大圧屋) and other officials, there were ‘parent stoves’ (oya-kamado 親かまど) for use by the villagers (burakumin 部落) for formal events. This large eleven-burner kudo, built in the form of arc, stands at the centre of an expansive kama-ya. Nara Prefecture.

The are also examples of o-kama-san built as stand-alone ‘one-burner’ units, separate from the everyday cooking kudo. The image below shows a huge o-kama-sama in the Rakunan (洛南) area of southern Kyо̄to; it is around 140 cm in both height and width. It has grown to this size over the years as a result of the house custom of adding a coat of plaster to it at each year’s end.

A seemingly standalone o-kama-san used for ceremonial and special occasions. The stove has grown over time as it accumulates new layers of plaster year after year. Kyо̄to Prefecture.

In northern Japan, there are large stoves called to-gama (とがま) that are used for heating up horse feed, but when necessary the pot is changed out and they are put to serving the same functions as the o-kama-san.

JAPANESE MINKA LXVI - INTERIORS 7: KAMADO 1

Long ago, when minka were still single-space dwellings and their interiors were not yet partitioned, all the activity of the household - not only cooking, but heating, illumination, drying, and so on - was focused on the large central fire that burned brightly all year; at night, too, the inhabitants of these ‘earth-sitting dwellings’ (doza-sumai 土座) would sleep on mats spread around the fire. In northern Japan, the cold climate forced people to lead indoor lives even during the day, and the houses were close and dark.

In the warm south of the country, on the other hand, houses were only for sleeping and resting in. These dwellings had raised timber floors to keep out venomous insects, snakes, and animals, and had good cross-ventilation. Bringing fire into this type of construction was problematic, and a fire was hardly needed other than for cooking anyway, so it was preferable to keep it outside; this also removed smoke and hot air from the house.

As we have seen in the last few posts, the internal fire of the northern dwelling eventually evolved into the modern, multi-purpose irori. In contrast, the external fire of the south developed into the subject of today’s post: the Japanese stove, the kamado (かまど or 釜土, lit. ‘kettle earth’), which was specialised for cooking. The kamado did not develop out of the irori, but was distinct from the beginning.

A fine example of a comma-shaped Japanese stove (kamado 釜土, here kudo くど) built in the earth-floored utility area (doma 土間) of the Iguchi family (Iguchi-ke 井口家) residence, Kyо̄to City. This fine example is a ‘seven burner’ stove (nanatsu kudo 七つくど). Usually the large ceremonial pot (о̄-gama 大釜) is at the endmost position, but rarely, as here, it is located in an intermediate position.

Eventually the two mixed together, so that minka in the northern Tо̄hoku region also have kamado, minka in the mountains of southern Kyūshū also have irori, and it is not possible to draw a clear or exact border between ‘irori country’ and ‘kamado country’; but we can make the broad distinction that from the Chūbu region north-east the irori is primary, while from the Kinki region west the kamado is predominant.

When using fire to cook in a pot (nabe 鍋 or kama 釜) under primitive conditions, there are basically two possible methods available: either to suspend the pot above the fire via a rope and hook or some other method, or to sit it on a stone or stones placed in or around the fire, with the simplest stable configuration consisting of three points of support. Whereas the irori primarily employs the former method, making use of the ready means of suspension offered by the dwelling’s roof beams, the kamado, with its origins in the outdoor fire, employs the latter principle; even today the kamado is represented symbolically in some regions by three stones, for the purpose of veneration.

Presumably the Japanese had been building simple stone windbreaks around fires since the Jо̄mon period (Jо̄mon jidai 縄文時代, c. 10,000 BC - 500 AD), but the relatively sophisticated, portable clay kamado first appeared in the Yayoi period (Yayoi jidai 弥生時代, c. 300 BC – 300 AD). These kamado are recognisably ‘modern’ in that they almost completely enclose the fire, with an opening in the side to feed and tend it, and a circular hole in the top on which the pot (kama 釜) sits. They functioned not only to shield the fire from wind and prevent the escape of sparks, but also to concentrate the flames under the pot so that scarce fuel could be used more efficiently. Some of the impetus for this development may have been provided by the cultural and demographic transition from a relatively sparse population of Jо̄mon hunter gatherers to one of sedentary Yayoi farmers living on the increasingly denuded and crowded agricultural lowlands.

A Yayoi period (Yayoi jidai 弥生時代) earthenware kamado from the О̄saka area, excavated from the traces of a dwelling. Rice was cooked in the pot, made of the same earthenware, that fits neatly into the opening at the top.

Eventually the kamado grew to become an immobile structure of stone and clay with substantial thermal mass, and the kama was improved by the addition of a lip or brim (tsuba 鍔) to create what is known as the tsuba-gama (鍔釜), which both supports the pot on the edge of the opening and forms a seal with it, thus preventing any of the heat of the fire from being lost upwards. There was also the migration of the kamado indoors, into the earth-floored utility area (doma 土間) of the minka interior. With these changes, even fuels of low energy density, like straw (wara 藁) or pine needles (matsu-ba 松葉), could be made effective use of, a development that would have been especially welcomed by the farmers of the firewood-poor plains.

An old cast-iron tsuba-gama with prominent tsuba, ring handles, and a wooden lid.

A modern aluminium tsuba-gama.

As its convenience came to be recognised, the refined kamado was adopted even in what had previously been exclusively ‘irori country’, and we can see a division of function between irori and kamado emerge, with a kamado for pot-cooking being built in a corner of the irori, and the irori presumably relinquishing this role to the kamado.

Development of the kamado did not end with modernity and electrification, but took a somewhat unrecognised path, and the kamado is still in widespread use today, albeit in disguise: the electric rice cooker, which first appeared in its familiar automatic form in 1955 with the Tо̄shiba ER-4. With its lipped and lidded kama fitting snugly into a heated enclosure, this kitchen appliance is a direct descendant of the kamado, and forms part of the lineage of a cooking technology that stretches back 2,000 years.

The Tо̄shiba ER-4 automatic (jidо̄-shiki 自動式) rice cooker (denki-gama 電気釜, lit. ‘electric pot’)

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Aside from the hook (kagi 鉤) and the fire shelf (hi-dana 火棚) discussed in the last two posts, there are other items associated with and found at or around the irori that are worth mentioning.

One such item is the fairly self-explanatory firewood (maki-gi 薪木) box (hako 箱), called moshigi-ire (もしぎ入れ, ‘firewood container’) in Gunma, ki-wara (きわら), in Toyama, shi-baya (しばや) in Kyо̄to, takimon-buro (たきもんぶろ) in Ishikawa, and so on.

A screen (tsuitate 衝立) is often placed around the firewood box, or around any mess at the irori, to hide these from the entrance. This screen is variously called the soda-gaki (そだがき ‘sleeve fence’), erami (えらみ), mendо̄-gaki (面倒垣 ‘care fence’), and the like.

A delicate semi-permeable tsuitate (衝立) is placed between the entrance and the irori to screen the ‘mess’ from casual visitors standing in the doma.

An additional, smaller screen, called the ita-shо̄ji (板障子, ‘board shо̄ji’), may be placed at the edge of the irori to protect the fire from draughts and prevent sparks from landing on the straw cushions or mats (goza 茣蓙).

An ita-shо̄ji (板障子) made with a thick board of Japanese cypress (hinoki 桧, Chamaecyparis obtusa) and a short length of cypress log (hinoki-maruta 桧丸太) split into two halves to form the legs.

The white stool-shaped object seen in the image below, and the upside down tree root bole (ne-moku 根木) in the image below that, are both crude lamps: called hide-bachi (ひでばち), matsu-dai (まつだい, ‘pine platform’), etc., they are for burning scrap wood (ki-kata 木片, lit. ‘timber odds’) on, for the purpose of illumination. Before electricity, thinly split resinous pine (matsu 松) root, white birch (shira-kaba 白樺, Betula platyphylla) bark, and other timbers were burnt on these platforms to provide additional light.

A ‘platform lamp’ (hide-bachi ひでばち) next to the irori in the former Shiiba family (Shiiba-ke 椎葉家) residence, originally in Miyazaki prefecture but now in the Japan Open-Air Folk House Museum in Toyonaka City, О̄aaka Prefecture.　

This image shows a ‘platform lamp’ (hide-bachi ひでばち) made of an inverted root bole.

From northern Kyо̄to to Hokuriku, and in one particular area in the mountains of Chūbu, there are many minka in which adjustable hooks (jizai-kagi 自在鉤) are not employed, even when a ‘fire shelf’ (hi-dana 火棚) is present. Instead, a large iron trivet (go-toku 五徳, lit. ‘five virtues’) is used. The trivet is also variously called kana-wa (鉄輪, ‘iron ring’), kana-go (かなご, ‘metal go-toku’), or simply kane (かね ‘metal’); large examples might weigh as much as 60 kilograms.

There is a small hi-dana over this irori in a minka in Shiga prefecture, but no jizai-kagi; in its place is an electric light, and the pot is held over the fire by a trivet (kanawa 鉄輪).

This irori from a the former Wakayama family (Wakayama-ke 若山家) residence, originally in О̄no County (О̄no-gun 大野郡), Gifu Prefecture, but now in the Hida Folk Museum in Takayama City, combines a large hi-dana, what looks to be a simple jizai-kagi, and a trivet (kanawa 鉄輪). Hanging from the irori are tsuto (苞, tubes made of bound straw) filled with dried fish.

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Normally, a room containing an irori will not have a ceiling or a floor above it; or, if there is a floor, it is what is called tsushi (つし) or ama (あま), consisting of lashed-bamboo mats (take no su 竹の簀) that allow smoke to easily pass through. In the minka of the mountainous Iya (祖谷) region of Shikoku and in the mountain houses of Chichibu (秩父) in modern-day Saitama Prefecture, none of the rooms have ceilings, and the underside of the roof thatch is directly exposed to the space below. In these houses, a board structure is hung above the irori to catch sparks before they can rise to the roof. This structure is called hi-buta (火蓋, lit. ‘fire lid’), hi-о̄i (火覆い, lit. ‘fire cover’), or the like.

In snowy or mountainous country, one can see a sturdy framed lattice or ‘grille’ (hi-dana 火棚, lit. ‘fire shelf’) suspended over the irori with stout ropes. This device developed out of the hi-buta; in addition to preventing sparks from floating upwards, it plays a role in one of the main purposes of the irori: drying. Wet clothes and snowshoes (yuki-gutsu 雪沓) hanging from small hooks and drying above the fire were once a common sight in minka; seeds and grains (shushi 種子) and other foodstuffs were preserved by placing them on top of the hi-dani.

A sturdy hi-dana in the former О̄ta family (О̄ta-ke 太田家) residence, originally built in Gifu Prefecture but now standing in the Nagoya City Higashiyama Botanical Gardens. Note the smoke-permeable lashed-bamboo floor above the hi-dana. The irori uses both a metal pipe type jizai-kagi and a trivet. Smoke and soot from the fire have made the thick ropes holding the hi-dana as hard as steel cables.

Hi-dana is the ‘standard’ name, and the one the device goes by in Niigata and Shizuoka, but it is called ama (あま, possibly from an old word for ‘heaven’ or ‘sky’, or perhaps a variant of ami 網, ‘net’) in Mino, hi-ama (ひあま) or hi-amu (ひあむ) in Toyama, and tsuri-ama (つりあま, ‘hanging ama’) or hi-yama (ひやま) in Gifu, among other names. Where the hi-dana developed into a two-tier structure, the lower shelf was often called the ko-ama (こあま, ‘small ama’).

A two-tier hi-dana over the irori in a minka in Kyо̄to City.

With the addition of the hi-dana, a long adjustable hook (jizai-kagi 自在鉤) hanging down from the roof beam becomes impractical to operate for various reasons, so a short, easy-to-handle variety of jizai-kagi is adopted, hung from a stout main hook (oya-kagi 親鉤, lit. ‘parent hook’) that is attached to the centre of the hi-dana. The oya-kagi is also called sora-kagi (そらかぎ lit. ‘sky hook’, with the sense of ‘hook suspended in mid-air’), o-kagi-san (おかぎさん ‘honorable hook-san’), kagi-tsuru (かぎつる ‘hook hanger’), o-kage (おかげ) ‘honorable hook’), and so on.

A rustic sora-kagi fashioned from a naturally curled timber.

A fine example of a sora-kagi from Toyama Prefecture, carved from keyaki (欅, Zelkova serrata). This style of kagi is sometimes called daikoku (大黒), for the resemblance of its upper part to the Daikoku-zukin, the cap (zukin 頭巾) worn by Daikoku-ten (大黒天), the Japanese god of fortune. The rope supporting the kagi has also been constructed with considerable skill and flair, which is characteristic of this region.

Daikoku-ten (大黒天), the Japanese god of fortune, wearing his Daikoku-zukin (大黒頭巾) cap.

In this example from Ishikawa Prefecture, instead of a sora-kagi there is a horizontal timber tied to the roof beam, with the jizai-kagi hung from this member, called the tanpa-gi たんぱ木. One end of the tanpa-gi projects out further than the other, and this long end is positioned over the wife’s seat (the kaka-za かか座), the idea being that the gods of fortune (fuku no kami 福の神) will reside over this seat. The other, short end is suspended over the guests’ seat (kyaku-za 客座), and on this end is said to sit the gods of poverty.

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When you sit at the irori, your eye is inevitably drawn to the hook (kagi 鉤) suspended above it, used to hold pots (nabe 鍋) and kettles (kama 釜) over the fire at the desired height. For the mundane but vital role of regulating the temperature of whatever is being cooked or heated, and because the kagi is so visually insistent at the centre of the ‘family circle’, it is the element of the ‘irori complex’ on which the most ingenuity and aesthetic energy is expended. This is in contrast to the irori itself, which in design and appearance is spartan and unornamented, showing little variety from example to example.

The original kagi were created by simply taking a small-diameter tree trunk or branch with a decent number of closely-spaced branches or sub-branches, cutting it to length, trimming the branches short, and suspending it by a rope in its ‘living orientation’ from a beam or ridgepole. The pot or kettle can then be hung from one of the branches, sometimes directly but more usually via another loop of rope tied around the handle. These primitive kagi can still be seen in woodcutter’s huts (kikori-goya 木樵小屋) and backcountry cabins (dezukuri-goya 出作り小屋). In Iwate Prefecture they are called matsu-kagi (まつかぎ probably lit. ‘pine hook’), though they are sometimes fashioned out of deer antlers. The height of the hook itself is fixed; the height of the pot over the fire is changed by simply moving the pot from one branch to another, so these hooks only offer as many different pot-hanging heights as there are branches, and the ‘indexing’ is coarse.

A matsu-kagi made out of a deer antler, hanging by a rope from a beam in the Tsubokawa family (Tsubokawa-ke 坪川家) residence in Fukui Prefecture.

Something of an improvement was made with the development of the ganda-kagi (がんだ鉤) or katsuta-kagi (かつた鉤), in which the tree branch is replaced with a thick timber board, with a number of steps or ‘teeth’, often odd in number, cut into one edge. Ganda has the meaning of ‘serrated’ or ‘bumpy’ (deko-boko 凸凹). Though the gradations are finer, the ganda-kagi is still indexed, and the number of possible pot height positions is limited to the number of teeth on the board.

There are two types of ganda-kagi, as seen in the image below. The more primitive type is mechanically identical to the tree branch kagi: the teeth face upward, the hook’s height is fixed, and the pot and its rope are moved up and down on the teeth. The more complex type has the teeth facing downward, and the hook and pot are moved up and down together, either on twinned ropes, or, as in the Ainu suwattsu (スワッツ), on a U-shaped iron rod. Comparatively many ganda-kagi survive in the Tо̄hoku region.

Top left, a matsu-kagi. Top right, a ganda-kagi of the simpler type, with teeth facing upwards. Bottom left and right, ganda-kagi of the more complex type, with teeth facing downwards.

The Ainu ganda-kagi, known as the suwattsu (スワッツ).

Interior of an Ainu chise showing a rustic suwattsu (スワッツ) with only four teeth, hung over a suspended pole.

The apex of kagi design is reached with the development of the jizai-kagi (自在鉤, lit. ‘adjustable/universal hook’). As the name suggests, the jizai-kagi is freely adjustable and non-indexed. The mechanism by which this is achieved is at the same time simpler and more sophisticated than the ganda-kagi, and will be familiar to anyone who has pitched a tent: the mechanical principle is identical to that of a guy rope tensioner.

A guy rope tensioner.

The element of the jizai-kagi corresponding to the wooden or aluminium bar of the guy rope tensioner is called the ko-zaru (小猿, lit. ‘little monkey’), the horizontal timber (yoko-gi 横木, lit. ‘horizontal wood’) or iron component through which the suspending rope (tsuri-tsuna 吊り綱) or pole is run. The advantage of using a metal ko-zaru is of course that it can’t be burnt; the disadvantage is that it can become uncomfortably hot if too close to the fire.

The principle by which the jizai-kagi operates is as follows: the suspending rope is run through a hole in one end of the ko-zaru and fixed at its underside with a knot. The other, free end of the rope is looped over a beam, pulley, etc., and then down through a hole in the other end of the ko-zaru. A small hook is attached to this free end to hold the pot or kettle. When the kagi is in its resting or normal state, the weight of the pot pulls the fixed end of the ko-zaru up so it is inclined; the top and bottom, diagonally opposed edges of the free hole in the yoko-gi then grip the free end of the rope, and this friction holds the rope in place and prevents it from sliding. To adjust the pot height, the ko-zaru is lifted into a more horizontal position, which frees the free rope in its hole, allowing it to be slid up or down.

A more refined version of the jizai-kagi replaces the single rope with an iron rod that runs through the hole in the free end of the ko-zaru, and a separate rope that attaches the tail of the ko-zaru to a bamboo tube into which the upper free end of the rod is inserted, so restraining the rod from lateral movement.

Section of a modern interpretation of a rod-and-tube type jizai-kagi, using a wire (waiyaa ワイヤー) and bolt (boruto ボルト) to attach the yoko-gi (横木) to the bamboo (take 竹) tube.

Three types of kagi: on the left, a ganda-kagi; in the middle, a rope-and pulley type jizai-kagi; on the right, a more sophisticated rod-and-tube type jizai-kagi.

Two simple jizai-kagi over a single irori. Each is hung from its own non-adjustable hook rather than directly from the rafters or from a suspended grille (hidana 火棚). The difference in thickness of the hooks and their ropes provides a striking and pleasing contrast. Fish are popular subjects for carved ko-zaru, perhaps because, in addition to being a common food, when suspended in space above the irori they convincingly appear to be swimming through the room.

Other names for the yoko-gi or ko-zaru include chūji (しゅうじ) or chо̄ji (ちょうじ), from the meaning of ‘envoy’ (chūshi 中使) or ‘errand boy’ (tsukai-aruki no ko-tsukai 使いあるきの小使い), ko-aruki (小あるき ‘little walker’), ko-bashiri (小ばしり ‘little runner’), ko-asobi (小遊び ‘little player’), ko-zara (小ざら ‘little tray’), ko-giri (小ぎり), and so on.

A jizai-kagi, here called a sora-kagi, consisting of a bamboo tube and simple board ko-bashiri, hung from a naturally-curved piece of timber at ceiling level. Despite the presence of a bamboo tube, this is not a ‘tube and rod’ type jizai-kagi; the tube appears to function only to hold the two runs of rope together, for the sake of neatness of appearance.

Ko-zaru range from nothing more than primitive pieces cut from timber boards or poles, to examples made of Japanese zelkova (keyaki 欅, Zelkova serrata) and other fine timbers, and carved into forms such as folding fans (sensu 扇子) or fish. These have come to be called ki-tai (木鯛, lit. ‘timber sea bream’), kita-muki funa (北向き鮒, lit. ‘north-facing carp’), agari-buna (上り鮒, lit. ‘rising carp’), iri-tai (入り鯛, lit. ‘entering sea bream’), and the like, though often it is difficult to discern whether they are actually meant to depict tai (鯛, family Sparidae) and funa (鮒, Carassius sp.), or simply a generic ‘fish’. The last three names are in reference to the custom of orienting the fish so that its head is facing ‘up’ or ‘into’ the ‘rear’ (oku 奥) of the raised-floor or habitable part of the dwelling, and away from the earth-floored utility area (doma 土間) and entry. In contrast, the hook (kagi 鉤) should face the entry, giving rise to mnemonic sayings such as de-kagi iri-zakana (出鉤入り魚, lit. ‘out hook in fish’).

A rod-and-tube type jizai-kagi with a kita-muki funa (北向き鮒, lit. ‘north-facing carp’) and an elaborate wrought-iron ‘chain’ connecting it to the tube. In this example, the head of the fish is the free end of the ko-zaru.

A variant of the rod-and-tube type kagi called hako-kagi (箱鉤, lit. ‘box hook’) in which the bamboo tube is replaced by a square timber ‘box’. This type is common in the Tо̄hoku region where bamboo is not cultivated.

A jizai-kagi consisting of a delicately-carved ko-zaru and metal pipes.

A rope-and-bar jizai-kagi suspended from a large post-like ‘parent hook’ (oya-kagi 親鉤).

A jizai-kagi consisting of a substantial ki-tai (木鯛) and rope, suspended from a thin timber peg attached to the underside of a large fire shelf (hi-dana 火棚).

The rod-and-tube type jizai-kagi on the left features a fine ko-zaru in the form of the uchide no kozuchi (打ち出の小槌) of Japanese folklore, a magic mallet that has the ability to ‘tap out’ whatever is wished for.

An iron kagi that incorporates the guard (tsuba 鍔) of a sword.

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Seating positions around the irori have long been determined by convention and formally assigned. Interestingly, though there are regions in which these seating conventions gradually weakened over time, and those where they are (or were) strictly maintained, there is very little variation observed across the country in regards to who sits where. In contrast, while the seating assignments themselves have been highly stable across time and place, the number of dialect variant names for them is huge, so this post will be as much etymological as anything else.

The highest ranking position around the irori, marked ‘1’ in the images, is the uppermost seat (jо̄za 上座), the one on the ‘interior’ side furthest from and facing the doma. This is the place occupied by the master of the house. It affords the best view of the dwelling’s entrance, whether that be in the façade (typically the long side) or the gable end (short side) of the building. It is the most favourable position for observing and giving orders to family members and employees undertaking activities in the ‘kitchen’ (katte 勝手) and doma (土間), and for keeping an eye on the condition of the animals in the stable (umaya 厩), among other things. The most common name across Japan for the master’s seating position is yoko-za (横座, lit. ‘side seat’), so called because a tatami mat or other sitting mat (goza ござ) was laid beside (yoko 横) the irori here. Other names include teishu-za (亭主座, ‘husband seat’), danna-ido (丹那いど ‘husband place’), and oya-zashiki (親座敷 ‘parent zashiki’). The custom of the ‘active’ master of the household sitting in this uppermost position appears to contradict modern practice, but it stems from the belief that the master of the house was the ‘priest’ of the guardian deity of the household, and is thought to trace back to ancient times, predating the etiquette of the feudal period. Therefore the heads of families of ancient lineage and the priests of family temples relinquish this seat, but Kawashima Chūji’s own father did not, occupying the position even after retirement: the only others who would be suffered to sit in the yoko-za were deemed to be ‘cats, fools, and priests’.

Seating positions around the irori (炉). Top (1), the ‘formal room side’ or ‘habitable room side’ (zashiki-gawa 座敷側), usually called the yoko-za (横座); at right (2), the rear/back side or ‘back door side’ (sedoguchi-gawa 背戸口側), usually called the kaka-za (嚊座); at left (3), the facade/front side or ‘door side’ (toguchi-gawa 戸口側), usually called the kyaku-za (客座); and bottom (4), the ‘doma side’ (doma-gawa 土間側), usually called the ki-jiri (木尻).

The second-ranking seat, marked ‘2’ in the photographs, near the kitchen (勝手 katte) at the rear (opposite to and farthest from the façade side) of the dwelling, is the women’s seat, centred around the wife (shufu 主婦). If the house faces south, this position is on the north (kita 北) side of the irori, so is sometimes called the kita-za (北座), but it is most commonly called either the onna-za (女座, lit. ‘woman seat’) or kaka-za (嚊座; kaka 嚊 means ‘to breathe through the nose’, ‘snort’, and by extension ‘wife’, ‘one's old lady’). The grandmother and daughters also sit in this position, lined up below (on the doma side of) the wife. Other names for the position include kaka-zashiki (嚊座敷 ‘old lady zashiki’), nyо̄bо̄-ire (女房入れ ‘wife container’), onna-jiro (おんなじろ ‘wife place’), uba-za (うばざ ‘granny seat’), baba-zashiki (ばばざしき ‘granny zashiki';), merojiya (めろじや ‘woman place’), and kami-san-zashiki (かみさんざしき, ‘god zashiki’). Because this is the position from which the wife serves meals, etc., there are also many names for it that relate to eating (ke, 食): keza (けざ ‘eating seat’), kedoko (けどこ ‘eating place’), kedomoto (けどもと ‘eating origin’), kenza (けんざ ‘eating seat’) kegura-za (けぐらざ), and mikenza (みけんざ); also nabeza (なべざ ‘pot seat’), nabejiro (なべじろ ‘pot place’), tanamoto (たなもと), chani-za (茶煮座 or 茶煎座 ‘tea boiling seat’), cha-in-za (茶飲座 ‘tea drinking seat’), cha-no-za (茶の座 ‘tea seat’), chai-no-za (ちゃいのざ ‘tea seat’), tane-za (たねざ), yaze (やぜ, from yashinau 養う ‘to nourish or nurture’), bonshi (ぼんし ‘meal’), and so on. Alternatively, as the place from which the wife feeds the fire (taku 焚く, ‘to kindle/boil/cook’), the seat may be called 焚座 (ta-za? or taki-za?), omo-hijiri (主火尻 ‘main fire bottom’), etc.

Finally, because the wife’s seat was the place from which she would keep a close eye on the master’s sword, laid beside him (on his left), it was also called koshi-moto (腰元, female servant, lit. ‘hip origin’).

In farming families, the agricultural work undertaken by the wife was as important as that done by the husband, and she also presided over the housework, so her seating position was not considered ‘low’ in status.

Plan showing a common location for the irori (炉) within the minka, in the main habitable room or ‘living room’ (here the hiroma ひろま) in the house. Position 1 at the irori is to its left; position 2 is above it; position 3 is below it; and position 4 is to its right. The ‘kitchen’ of the dwelling is the area above the dot-dash line.

The third-ranking seat, across the irori from the wife’s seat and nearest the (façade) entrance, marked ‘3’ in the photographs, is the position for guests or visitors, so is called kyaku-za (客座, lit. ‘guest seat’); when there are no guests, it is the seat for the men of the family other than the master, so is also called otoko-za (男座, lit. ‘man seat’). The woman seat and man seat were also called the tate-za (竪座), from their relation to the yoko-za; tate (竪) is the antonym of yoko (横) and is generally used to mean ‘vertical’, ‘standing’, etc. In the same way, the kyaku-za was sometimes called the ‘minami-za’ (南座, lit. ‘south seat’) in opposition to the wife’s kita-za, or the mukо̄-za (向う座, lit. ‘across seat’). It was also called yori-tsuki (よりつき), yori-tsuke (よりつけ), and yori-za (寄座), all derived from the verb yoru (寄る ‘to drop by’, ‘to visit’) and the compound verb yori-tsuku (寄り付く ‘to approach’, ‘to come close’). Other names that relate to the seat being that of the guest (kyaku 客) include kyaku-ro (きゃくろ ‘guest place’), marito-za (まりとざ, from mare-bito 稀人, an incorporeal visitor from the otherworld), hito-zashiki (人座敷 ‘person zashiki), hito-za (ひとざ ‘person seat’), etc.; also, because it is the seat of the bridegroom (shinsei 新聟, lit. ‘new son-in-law’) it is called the muko-za (聟座 ‘son-in-law seat’), ani-za (兄座 ‘older brother seat’), etc. Names that derive from the position being the otoko-za include otoko-zashiki (男座敷 ‘man zashiki’), otoko-ire 男入れ ‘man container’), otoko-jiro (男じろ ‘man place’), and so on.

View of the irori from the doma, with the four seating positions labelled: the yoko-za (横座), corresponding to (1) in the images; the kaka-za (嚊座), corresponding to (2); the kyaku-za (客座), corresponding to (3); and the ki-jiri (木尻), corresponding to (4).

The fourth position, marked ‘4’, across from the yoko-za and adjacent to/at the edge of the doma, is the lowest-ranking seat, and usually goes by shimo-za (下座 ‘lower seat’) or ki-jiri (木尻, lit. ‘tree/wood tail’). The seat of employees and ‘casual drop-ins’ or those not high enough in status to sit at the kyaku-za, it is also called matsu-za (末座, lit. ‘end/trivial seat’), shimo-jiro (しもじろ ‘lower place’), shimo-iri (しもいり ‘lower container’), ge-sui (げすい), and dekansa (でかんさ, from the meaning of ‘employee’). As it was not used by family members it was also called ake-moto (あけもと ‘empty place’). As the position from which the fire was fed, the seat might be called hota-jiri (榾尻 ‘woodchip tail’), takimono-jiri (焚物尻 ‘firewood tail’), ki-no-moto (木の元 ‘wood place’), or ki-jiro (木じろ ‘wood place’); ki-jiri itself belongs to this group of names. Due to the many taboos applying to young brides (yome 嫁), this was often the only position in which they could sit, and so it is also called the yome-zashiki (嫁座敷 ‘wife zashiki’). Where the wife sits, so children and cats gather, so the position is also called ko-ido (こいど ‘child place’), ko-mochi-jiro (子物じろ ‘child holding place’), ako-jiya (あこじや ‘baby place’), neko no yoko-za (猫の横座 ‘cat yoko-za’), neko-no-ma (猫の間 ‘cat space’), neko-zashiki (猫座敷 ‘cat zashiki’), etc. Some of these names display a folk humour and irreverence that is not seen in the names for the other positions, with the possibly tongue-in-cheek exception of kami-san-zashiki.

For the convenience of being able to step into the irori without removing footwear, there are irori with the ki-jiri-za side partly cut away or entirely omitted, and those where the width of the ki-jiri-za (the distance between the edge of the irori and the room-doma edge is narrowed (the irori moved closer to the doma) with a moveable wooden platform called a ki-jiri dai (木尻台) placed in the doma up against the edge of the floor. There are places where the shimo-za goes by the strange name kinsuri-za (きんすり座), because when the ki-jiri dai is moved aside, those tending the fire from the doma would rub (suru 摺る) against the edge of the floor.

Example of an irori without a fixed ki-jiri seating position: the doma side of the irori is fully open to the doma. There is a low, gapped-board clad (sunoko-bari 簀の子貼り) ‘fire-side platform’ (hijiri-dai 火尻台) at the open ‘fire side’ (hijiri-gawa 火尻側) of the irori.

A girl standing on the ki-jiri dai set in the doma up against the narrow ki-jiri side of the irori. Note also the kindling piled next to the ki-jiri, and the cat.

The seating positions at the irori, and their many names, reflect the domestic and familial order that grew out of the high-low and master-servant status systems and distinctions of the feudal period; but, as we have seen, they can also be said to have a rational basis, when considered from the point of view of everyday life and the practical considerations and demands of the dwelling.　

Seating at the irori. 1) the yoko-za (横座, lit. ‘side seat’). 2) the kaka-za (嚊座; kaka 嚊 means ‘to breathe through the nose’, ‘snort’, and by extension ‘wife’, ‘one's old lady’). 3) kyaku-za (客座, lit. ‘guest seat’). 4) hijiri-za (火尻座, lit. ‘fire bottom/buttocks seat’), the side of the irori on which firewood and kindling is stored and from which the fire is fed. From the residence of the Takeda family (Takeda-ke 武田家), Tokyo Prefecture.

A large irori 太炉 in the ‘living room’ (oe おえ) of a Gasshо̄-zukuri minka in Gokayama district (五箇山地方) of Toyama Prefecture, the residence of the Murakami family (Murakami-ke 村上家), an important cultural property. To the rear of the yoko-za (1) is a chо̄dai-gamai (帳台構え), a formal entrance to a bedroom.

Seating at the hearth in the ‘formal room’ (dei でい) is not strictly determined/absolutely fixed; here the positions of the kaka-za (2) and kyaku-za (3) are reversed in relation to the layout of the room. The former residence of the О̄i family (О̄i-ke大井家), originally Gifu Prefecture, now relocated to the Open Air Museum of Old Japanese Farmhouses (Minka Shūraku Hakubutsukan 民家集落博物館) in Toyonaka City, О̄saka Prefecture (豊中市大阪府).

JAPANESE MINKA LXI - INTERIORS 2: IRORI 2

The place where the sole or primary irori is located in the minka is the place of everyday family activity. This room or space is called the joi (常居), chanoma (茶の間), daidoko (台所), idoko (いどこ 居常) and the like; it is the ‘gathering room’, the place of dining (shokuji 食事) and danran (団らん or 団欒, lit. ‘group-harmony’), a word without a satisfying English equivalent, meaning ‘sitting in a circle’, as a family. The room with the irori corresponds to the modern ‘dining-kitchen’, usually placed immediately beyond (oku 奥) and ‘upwards’ (kami-te 上手 or uwa-te 上手) of the earth-floored utility area (doma 土間) that contains the main or everyday entrance (о̄do-guchi 大戸口, lit. ‘big doorway’) through which the inhabitants enter the dwelling. In cold regions, there may also be additional irori in the part of the doma used for cooking (suijiba 炊事場), in the board-floored room (ita no ma 板の間) that functions as the ‘kitchen’ (katte かって), and in the façade-facing formal room (dei でい or 出居) used for receiving guests (о̄setsu 応接). Irori may also vary in size and location depending on the activities of the household, for instance in the minka of farming families engaged in supplementary activities like growing tobacco (which must be dried) and raising silkworms (which require a certain minimum temperature).

A family sitting around the irori engaged in danran (団らん), ‘family togetherness’.

In addition to its obvious practical roles in cooking (suiji 炊事), heating (saidan 採暖), drying (kansо̄ 乾燥), and illumination (shо̄mei 照明), the irori is also the locus of ceremonies associated with year’s end (saimatsu 歳末), the new year (shin-nen 新年), childbirth (o-san お産), and other rituals and ritual-like events. Indeed, the irori is perhaps less often written about in an architectural context than in a folkloric one, and it is deeply interesting in this regard.

As the place of the central fire, the irori is regarded as sacred, and actions such as spitting in it or burning impure items in it are taboo.  In this light, customs such as smoothing down the ash with a trowel (kana-gote 金鏝), or making patterns in the ash using a metal comb (hai-narashi 灰ならし, lit. ‘ash smoother’), as in the gardens of Zen temples, can be interpreted as functioning to preserve of the purity of the irori.

Image of an irori showing the perimeter area of the pit, the roen ろえん), always kept clean with a straw broom (wara-bо̄ki 藁箒), and the central ‘pit within pit’ part, the hodo (ほど), which contains the fire.

Patterns raked into the ash of an irori.

A metal comb (hai-narashi 灰ならし) used to make patterns in the ash (hai 灰) of the irori.

Kawashima Chūji writes of visiting villages deep in the mountains and often hearing inhabitants claim that the ‘hearth fire’ (ro-no-hi 炉の火) of their house hadn’t once been extinguished since the minka was built.  True or not, these stories indicate the importance in the distant past of keeping the ember (hidane 火種) alive at all costs, when starting a fire was an onerous thing.  Today we can effortlessly provide every room with light and a heat source, but when the irori was the only source of light and heat in the house, the gathering of the family around the fire carried a different significance.  The famous book The Age of Fire (Hi no Mukashi 火の昔) by the Japanese folklorist Yanagita Kunio (柳田国男, 1875 – 1962) goes into great detail on this subject.

The word irori itself is much younger than the thing it describes, first appearing in the Muromachi period (Muromachi jidai 室町時代, 1336 - 1573). Before then, firepits were called hitaki (比多岐), among other names.  Unsurprisingly for such a universally distributed and commonplace object, there are a great many regional and local dialect names for the irori, and for its constituent parts.  Some of these names are thought to be etymological derivatives of ancient words that are no longer in use (shigo 死語, lit. ‘dead word’).  The modern distribution of dialect names is highly complex and confused, and clear classificatory statements along the lines of ‘name x is mainly used in region y’ are difficult to make.  There are instances where the same word is used in two regions very distant from one another, and instances where different words are used from village to village and even from house to house in a single region.

Etymologically, most dialect names for the firepit derive from words meaning either ‘place of people’ (hito no i-basho 人の居場所) or ‘fire place’ (hi-sho 火所).  Irori can be written 囲炉裏: literally ‘surround-furnace-lining’, meanings which when taken together bear some relationship to the object itself, but they are actually ateji (当て字), characters chosen primarily to represent the phonemes of a word rather than its meaning; irori in fact belongs to the former group of names, with the sense of ‘a place where people are’.

Other dialect names for the firepit with the sense of ‘place of people’ or ‘sitting place’ (za-suru basho 座する場所) are iroi, iruri, irui, iri, ijiro, yururi, yurui, yurori, yuriba, yurube, yurugi, and yurii. Of these, yururi and yurui are in use over a relatively wide area. On the other hand, names for irori that mean ‘fire place’ (hisho 火所) include hidoko, hihodo, shiboto, hibito, hijiro, hijiri, hibata, jiro, and jiru. The jiro in these names has the sense of ‘place’, and is cognate with the shiro of ajiro (網代), a mat of woven flat strips of timber or bamboo, and nawashiro (苗代), a rice seedling nursery. Other names for the irori include hinata, in-naka, en-naka, hen-naka, en-nata, and henaka.

Names for the central part of the irori where the fire burns include hodo, hodonaka, kamado, etc. The perimeter timber frame is variously called the irubuchi, jirobuchi, doenbuchi, hinota; the earthen part within the frame goes by roen, doen, etc., and the perimeter is called the jironohata, robatana, and so on.

JAPANESE MINKA LX - INTERIORS 1: IRORI 1

After the two previous series of posts on minka structure (kо̄zо̄ 構造), in which we examined how minka are put together, and minka layouts (madori 間取り), in which we looked at how minka are partitioned into functionally differentiated rooms or spaces, we will now begin a new series, on minka interiors (naibu 内部). This series will be more concerned with the particulars of how people lived in and interacted with the minka and its appurtenances, and so will be less technical and more anthropological or ethnographical in content than the previous two. Like those series, however, this will be a loose translation of Internal Layouts, Structure, and Interiors (Madori・Kо̄zо̄・Naibu 間取り・構造・内部), the second volume of Kawashima Chūji’s (川島宙次) three-volume work on minka titled Disappearing Minka (Horobiyuku Minka (滅びゆく民家); with the completion of this series, we will have basically covered all of Volume Two of that work. The first and third volumes, incidentally, are Roofs and Exteriors (Yane・Gaikan 屋根・外観) and Sites/Auxiliary Structures and Typologies (Yashiki-mawari・Keishiki 屋敷まわり・形式) respectively; these volumes may also get their own series here eventually.

Kawashima’s work on minka interiors covers such elements as firepits (irori いろり) and the various devices and seating conventions associated with them; stoves (kamado かまど); facilities and customs relating to the use of water (mizu 水); sleeping places (nedoko 寝所); ‘living rooms’ (hiroma 広間) and ‘guest rooms’ (dei 出居); ‘formal rooms’ (zashiki 座敷) and their decorative alcoves (toko-no-ma 床の間); perimeter spaces (engawa 縁側); bathing rooms (yoku-shitsu 浴室) and bathing facilities; toilets (benjo 便所); formal entries (genkan 玄関); and stairs (kaidan 階段).

Let’s begin then, with an examination of the irori (いろり or 囲炉裏 or simply 炉): the hearth or ‘firepit’ of the traditional Japanese home.

The irori is the primary and cardinal element of the minka interior, at the centre of the core activities of the dwelling and also at its symbolic heart. In Japan’s earliest residential structures, the prehistoric pit dwellings (tate-ana jūkyo 竪穴住居) and ‘on ground’ or ‘on grade’ dwellings (hirachi jūkyo 平地住居) of the Jо̄mon period, fires were contained in jiro (地炉, lit. ‘earth furnace’), basically an indoor campfire dug into the earthen floor and given a border of large rounded river stones (tama-ishi 玉石), or, in later examples, shaped or dressed stone. Jiro persisted into the 20th century in the earth-floored utility areas (the doma or niwa) of minka, and in the living areas of ‘earth-sitting’ (doza 土座) dwellings, i.e. dwellings without a raised-floor area.

An Ainu irori, called the apeoi (アぺオイ).

A large jiro (地炉) installed in the floor of the niwa of the Nara family (Nara-ke 奈良家) residence in Akita Prefecture (Akita-ken 秋田県), an important cultural property. Inhabitants and visitors sit on the thick cushion-like woven mats (nekoda ねこだ) laid around it, in a scene reminiscent of the age of ‘earth sitting dwellings’ (doza-sumai 土座住まい).

A more modern photograph of the jiro dug into the floor of the doma of the now-former Nara family residence, Akita Prefecture. Another irori is just visible in the background, in the raised-floor part of the interior. The house dates to the mid-18th century.

An irori in the floor of the ‘kitchen’ (daidoko だいどこ) of an ‘earth-sitting dwelling’ (doza sumai 土座住まい), with a surround (robuchi 炉縁) of large rounded river stones (tama-ishi 玉石). The former residence of the Nokubi family (Nokubi-ke 野首家), Gifu Prefecture, now relocated to the Hida Folk Village (Hida Minzoku-mura 飛騨民俗村) in Takayama City, also in Gifu Prefecture.

In the earliest raised-floor dwellings (taka-yuka jūkyo 高床住居), whose mode of living eventually came to predominate in the country’s southern regions, constructing a fireproof enclosure or ‘container’ (irori can be written with the single character 炉, lit. ‘furnace’ or ‘kiln’) for the fire was considered difficult, or at least not worth the effort, since in these warmer climates, where an indoor heat source was not necessary or even desirable, the fire could be exterior to the dwelling. This explains why irori are still most densely distributed in the colder Tо̄hoku and Hokuriku regions of eastern Japan. In later periods, once methods for installing them into raised timber floors were developed, irori were also widely adopted in the minka of the mountainous areas of western Japan, such that today we can no longer draw a hard distinction between regions that use irori and those that use only stoves (kamado かまど or 釜土).

Today irori built into a raised timber floor, such as the example shown here, are far more common and familiar than the in-ground jiro.

Irori are typically square in shape, and range in size from half a tatami mat to a full tatami mat in area (from around 91cm x 91cm to around 130cm x 130cm). There are various methods of construction, but the typical example consists of a concave base of stones or rubble built up below the floor to the level of the floor bearers; this base is lined with clay, on which is laid down a layer of sand, then ash. There are regions in which the perimeter part of the irori is finished with fine white plaster (shikkui 漆喰) or cement, with the central part left unplastered.

Edge section of a typical irori construction (though by no means the only method). Labelled are the stone base (ishi-gumi 石組), clay (nendo 粘土) and ash (hai 灰) layers, bearer (oobiki 大引) and joist (neda 根太), floorboards (yuka-ita 床板), and the irori’s perimeter frame (robuchi 炉縁).

The perimeter timber frame, typically called the ro-buchi (炉縁, lit. ‘furnace edge’), is either flush with or somewhat higher than the finished floor level. It and the ‘walls’ of the irori usually surround the pit on all four sides, to fully contain the fire and ash, though there are regions in which one side of the irori abuts and is open to the doma, allowing direct access to the fire from that side; this type of irori has the advantage of allowing transfer of food, pots, and fuel from the doma to the irori without having to remove one's shoes and step up into the room, and also makes the removal of ash easier.

Example of an irori whose doma-side is partly open to the doma, with the lower seat (shimo-za 下座) omitted; one can ‘step into’ the irori from the doma without taking one’s shoes off. In this district, the entire room seen in the picture beyond the irori is referred to metonymically as the yoko-za (横座). The Iwakami family (Iwakami-ke 岩上家) residence, Tochigi Prefecture (Tochigi-ken 栃木県).

In this irori, the doma side is fully open to the doma. There is a gapped-board clad (sunoko-bari 簀の子貼り) ‘fire-side platform’ (hijiri-dai 火尻台) at the open ‘fire side’ (hijiri-gawa 火尻側) of the irori.

Many minka contain two or more irori. In this example, the one in the foreground is in the ‘living room’ (dei でい), the one in the background is in the ‘kitchen’ (daidoko だいどこ).

JAPANESE MINKA LIX - PLANNING 37: NOTATION SYSTEMS

We have finally reached the end of this long series on minka layouts, which began with single-space minka and progressed through one-room, two-room, three-room, four-room, and multi-room layouts, with many digressions, tangents and reiterations along the way.

Here is a good time to remind the reader that this series, like the one before it on minka structure, is a loose translation of Internal Layouts, Structure, and Interiors (Madori・Kо̄zо̄・Naibu 間取り・構造・内部), the second volume of Kawashima Chūji’s (川島宙次) three-volume work on minka titled Horobiyuku Minka (滅びゆく民家, lit. ‘Disappearing Minka’). The first and third volumes are Roofs and Exteriors (Yane・Gaikan 屋根・外観) and Sites/Auxiliary Structures and Typologies (Yashiki-mawari・Keishiki 屋敷まわり・形式) respectively.

So by way of conclusion, and for the last post of the year, this one is strictly for the nerds: an explanation of the various symbolic notation systems, including Kawashima’s own, developed to represent minka layouts non-pictorially.

Kawashima points out that such a system had already been pioneered by Ishihara Kenji (石原憲治) before World War II.  Ishihara’s work in organising, classifying, and statistically analysing a great number of minka layouts has been extremely useful to later researchers, and in Kawashima’s view he deserves great respect for bringing the study of layouts into focus earlier than would otherwise have been the case. 

Ishihara’s notation system, expressed with numerical and arithmetical symbols, is able to capture the basic gist of minka layouts, but it is highly reductive and has two major shortcomings: first, though it is possible to visualise the number and general arrangement of rooms from the notation, the names or uses of the rooms are not indicated: the system does not convey whether a particular room is allocated for use as, for instance, a formal zashiki or as a bedroom (nando), so it is impossible to know the mode of habitation of the rooms, or of the dwelling as a whole. 

The second drawback of Ishihara’s system is that it is not even always possible to determine the layout type from the notation.  For example, a front-zashiki type three-room layout (mae-zashiki-gata san-madori  前座敷型三間取り) and a parallel lineup three-room layout (jūretsu-gata san-madori 縦列型三間取り), two very different layouts, are both simply represented as ‘3’. 

This latter deficiency can be addressed by adopting a symbolic system that indicates not only the number of rooms but also the layout type or style.  For this purpose, Kawashima offers the following symbols and definitions:

• H Hiroma-type (Hiroma-gata 広間型) layout

• S Regular (Seikei 整形) layout

• K Staggered (Kui-chigai 食違い) layout

• Y Perpendicular lineup type (heiretsu-gata 併列型) layout. Since ‘H’ is already taken, ‘Y’ is used for the equivalent term Yoko-narabi (横ならび, lit. ‘horizontal lineup’). The lineup of rooms runs perpendicular to the room-doma boundary.

• T Parallel lineup type (jūretsu-gata 縦列型) layout. Since ‘j’ is already taken, ‘T’ is used for the equivalent term Tate-narabi (縦ならび, lit. ‘vertical lineup’). The lineup of rooms runs parallel to the room-doma boundary.

Throughout this series on layouts, we have used the ‘X-type N-room’ (or alternatively ‘N-room X-type’) format, as in ‘regular four-room layout’ (seikei yon-madori 整形四間取り) or ‘three-room layout hiroma-type’ ( 三間取り広間型).  To convert a minka layout written in this way into Kawashima’s ‘layout type + number of rooms’ format, we simply take the letter that represents the layout type, and follow it with the number that represents the number of rooms, with the two separated by a dash.  So the ‘regular four-room layout’ (seikei yon-madori) is written ‘S - 4’ and the ‘three-room layout hiroma-type’ (san-madori hiroma-gata) is written ‘H - 3’.  For a staggered four-room layout (kui-chigai yon-madori 食違い四間取り), we write ‘K - 3’.

Kawashima’s system also remedies the first shortcoming of Ishihara’s system, by using alphabetical characters to represent room names (and thus uses), a method which he notes is adopted as-is from that used by Nishiyama Uzо̄ (西山夘三) in the farmhouse volume (Nо̄ka-hen 農家編) of his work Japanese Dwellings (Nihon no Sumai 日本の住まい).  Use of an upper-case letter indicates that the room runs the full width (harima 梁間) of the dwelling; lower-case letters stand for the names of rooms that are not full width, i.e. are divided from other rooms by partitions perpendicular to the room-doma boundary. 

The room symbols and definitions employed by Kawashima are as follows:

• n  Sleeping space (shinshitsu kūkan 寝室空間).  Common names: nema, heya, nando

• z  Reception space (sekkyaku kūkan 接客空間).  Common names: zashiki, genkan

• d  Dining/ ‘housework’ space (shokuji・kaji kūkan 食事・家事空間).  Common names: daidoko, katte

• j  Family ‘public’ space (kazoku no kо̄kūkan 公空間).  Common names: jо̄i, chanoma, iroma, nakanoma

• o  Public space admitting guests/visitors (kyaku o fukumeta kūkan 客をふくめた空間).  Common names: omote, dei

• W  Interior (generally earth-floored and full-width, thus capitalised) work/utility space (yanai sagyо̄ kūkan 屋内作業空間).  Common names: niwa, daidokoro, doji

• m  Livestock space (kachiku no kūkan 家畜の空間).  Common names: maya, daya, umaya

• s Storage (shūnо̄ 収納) space such as a closet (oshi-ire 押入, mono-iri 物入), cupboard (todana 戸棚); or a decorative alcove (toko 床, toko-no-ma 床の間), Buddhist alcove (butsuma 仏間), or the like.

• e Liminal or ‘edge’ (en 縁) space such as a ‘verandah’ (engawa 縁側) or entry vestibule (genkan 玄関). 

As an example, using this ‘room name + spatial arrangement’ system to describe regular four-room layout, consisting of a nando, zashiki, daidoko, omote, and niwa, gives us:

n d

—— W

z o

If we render each of the major layout types and styles into the four descriptive formats (the conventional word-based format and the three symbolic notation systems) discussed above, we obtain the following table of 18 plan diagrams, where each plan is accompanied by its description in each of the four formats, usually to the right of the plan.  

Plan diagrams of the various minka layout types.  To the right of each plan diagram is a ‘quadrant’ of four ways of describing the layout, in either words or symbolically.  The quadrant contains the following: top left, the layout description in words; bottom left, a symbolic representation consisting of the layout type followed by the number of rooms, and that followed optionally by the stagger type, e.g. ‘K - 4T’; top right, a symbolic representation of the function and position of each room in the layout, with the arrangement of letters conveying the location of each room and spatial relationships between them; bottom right, in parentheses, Ishihara Kenji’s system of notation, using numbers, the arithmetical symbols ‘+’ and ‘x’, and occasionally a character suffix such as ‘併’ (hei) to indicate what I call the ‘perpendicular’ lineup’ layout, or ‘全’ (zen) to indicate that a room is ‘full (width)’. 

By way of example, the first and simplest layout is shown below.

Plan diagram of a one-room layout (ichi-madori １間取り) and its various descriptions.

At the top left is the layout description in words: ‘prototype one-room layout’ (genkei hito-madori or genkei ichi-madori 原型１間取り). 

Below that, at bottom left, is the reduction of this description into its alphanumeric layout symbol or ‘code’: in this case, simply ‘1’.  There is no letter here to indicate a layout type, because in a one-room layout there is no possible variation in this regard.

At top right is the symbolic spatial description of the room layout, which adds room and spatial information to the alphanumeric code: here, ‘J W’, meaning an earth-floored utility space (W) and an adjacent family ‘public’ room (J), both capitalised since both run the full width of the dwelling.

The number is parentheses, here (1), is the layout expressed in Ishihara Kenji’s notation system.

Now let’s take a more complex example, shown below: a perpendicular stagger four-room layout.

Plan diagram of a a perpendicular stagger four-room layout (tate kui-chigai yon-madori 縦食違い４間取り) and its various descriptions.

Its description in words is tate kui-chigai yon-madori (縦職違い４間取り).

Expressed alphanumerically, this becomes ‘K - 4T’.  The ‘T’ here comes after the number, so indicates that the stagger of the four-room layout is of the perpendicular type (tate kui-chigai 縦食違い), and is not to be confused with a ‘T’ before the dash, which indicates a parallel lineup type (jūretsu-gata 縦列型) layout.  Likewise, a ‘Y’ after the number would indicate that the stagger of the layout is of the parallel type (yoko kui-chigai 横食違い), whereas a ‘Y’ before the dash indicates a perpendicular lineup type (heiretsu-gata 併列型) layout.

The spatial description of the room layout is:

n d

/ \/  W

z o

The horizontal three-bar zigzag indicates the perpendicular stagger; further, the fact that the peak of the zigzag is on the left and the valley on the right indicates that the partition between the nando and the zashiki is rearward of the partition between the daidoko and the omote.

Finally, Ishihara’s notation for this layout, shown in parentheses, is ‘2+2’.  The plus sign indicates this as a staggered four-room layout, distinguishing it from a regular four-room layout, which is written ‘2x2’.

If we want to be able to reconstruct plan diagrams from our symbolic notation systems with more detail and greater accuracy, we can introduce the elements of floor area and linear dimensions.  For example, to the letter indicating the ‘layout type’, we can add numerals that indicate the overall building dimensions (length x width) in ken (間, 1 ken = 1.818m).  For example, a hiroma-type layout minka that is 12 ken long and 5 ken wide would be written as:

H 12 x 5   

Note that in adding the dimensions to this ‘layout type + number of rooms’ notation system we have lost the ‘number of rooms’, so for this ‘layout type + building dimensions’ notation to be of any use, it must be complimented by the ‘room name + spatial arrangement’ notation system; or, to put it another way, when accompanied by the ‘room name + spatial arrangement’ notation system, the numeral indicating the number of rooms is redundant.  Combining both the ‘number of rooms’ and the ‘building dimensions’ in the ‘layout type’ notation would probably require putting parentheses around the ‘building dimensions’ to avoid the formula becoming messy and ambiguous.  If the above ‘H 12 x 5’ minka were a four-room layout (‘H - 4’), for example, we could write the whole as:

H - 4 (12 x 5)

We can add the element of area to the ‘room name + spatial arrangement’ notation system too, by affixing numerals indicating the area of each room, measured in tatami mats, to the letters representing the room names.  A tatami mat is one ken in length and half a ken wide, i.e. 1.818m x 0.919m, so the area of a single mat is around 1.67m2.  The counter suffix for tatami is jо̄ (帖); an eight-mat zashiki, expressed symbolically here as ‘z8’, would be read as hachi-jо̄ no zashiki (８帖の座敷).  To obtain the area of a room in tatami mats or jо̄, simply multiply the length of the room by the width, both measured in ken, and then multiply the result by two.  So a room measuring 3 ken long by 2 ken wide has an area of 2 (3 x 2) = 12 jо̄.

Let’s now apply all this to a real-world example: the former residence of the Sakuta/Sakuda/Tsukuda (作田) family, originally of Sanbu County (Sanbu-gun 山武郡), Chiba Prefecture, but now relocated to the Japan Open-Air Folk House Museum (Nihon Minka-en 日本民家園) in Kanagawa Prefecture, and designated an important cultural property. 

The plan of the house is fairly complex: a six-room wrapped-hiroma type (tori-maki hiroma-gata 取巻き広間型) layout, with the added complication of being a ‘separate ridge style’ (buntо̄-shiki 分棟式) construction, meaning that the dwelling is comprised of two buildings that are structurally independent and have separate roofs, but (in this example at least) are internally continuous.

Plan of the former Sakuta/Sakuda/Tsukuda (作田) family house, a wrapped-hiroma type (tori-maki hiroma-gata 取巻き広間型)  ‘separate ridge style’ (buntо̄-shiki 分棟式) minka.  Labelled are the earth-floored utility area (doma どま), which occupies its own separate building; the large, board (ita 板)-floored hiroma or omote (here the kami かみ) with firepit (irori, marked ro 炉), Buddhist alcove (butsuma, marked manji 卍) and shallow decorative alcove (oshi-ita 押板); the ‘dining room’ (daidoko, here cha-no-ma ちゃのま) with firepit; the bedroom (nando なんど); the rear formal room (zashiki, here oku おく) with decorative alcove (toko とこ); the ‘middle room’, also formal (naka-no-ma なかのま); and the formal entry ‘anteroom’ or ‘vestibule’, the liminal (en 縁) genkan げんかん).  Part of the doma is taken up with the stalls of a stable (maya まや, unlabelled).

Expressing the layout in both the ‘layout type + building dimensions’ and ‘room names + room areas + spatial arrangement’ notation systems gives us the following:

Two complementary symbolic descriptions of the Sakuta house.  On the left, the ‘layout type + building dimensions’ description.  On the right, the ‘room names + room areas + spatial arrangement’ description.

On the left we have the ‘layout type + building dimensions’ description.  ‘TH’ stands for for ‘wrapped-hiroma type (torimaki hiromagata 取巻き広間型), and this is followed by the total dimensions of the main building: 8 ken long by 5.5 ken wide, or around 14.5m x 10m. ‘W’ indicates the earth-floored work or utility area (the doma 土間 or niwa にわ); the ‘+’ separating the ‘TH’ and the ‘W’ indicates that these are two separate buildings; in other words, the minka is a buntо̄ (分棟 ‘separate ridge’) construction.  The ‘doma building’ is 3 ken long and 6 ken wide, or around 5.5m x 11m.

Using only the ‘layout type + building dimensions’ formula of ‘TH 8 x 5.5 + W 3 x 6’, it is possible obtain a preliminary outline plan like that shown below. The dashed lines representing room divisions are ‘anticipatory’ and cannot be derived from the ‘layout type + building dimensions’ formula alone.

A preliminary reconstruction of the external walls and overall length (maguchi 間口) and width (okuyuki 奥行) dimensions (measured in ken 間) of the two buildings of the Sakuta house, obtained from the description ‘TH 8 × 5.5 = W 3 × 6’.  Note that the half-ken difference in depth between the doma building and the main building’ is resolved here by showing the doma building extending out at the rear, with the two buildings drawn flush on the facade side, but this is an assumption that cannot be derived from the symbolic description alone.  Likewise, without knowing the customary style of minka in the area, one cannot know from the symbolic description alone that the two buildings are internally continuous and not fully separate.

The intimidating-looking formula on the right is the ‘room name + spatial arrangement’ description, with the addition of numerals that the floor area of each room.  

For the sake of convenience, let us assume that the building is oriented so that the facade (the hiroma or omote side) faces south, though this information is not carried in the symbolic descriptions, as not relevant.

Starting on the left, we have first a capital ‘E’, for an engawa running the full width of the building; the width of this space is not described. 

From the next part of the formula we can determine that there are six rooms: a rear zashiki with associated storage or alcoves, another zashiki, a facade-side engawa or other liminal space, a bedroom (nando), a dining-kitchen (daidoko), and the main room (omote). 

Next, the ‘W’ before the plus sign indicates that there is a full-width earth-floored utility area (doma or niwa) at the opposite end of the main building to the full-width engawa (‘E’).

The two horizontal lines represent partition lines: the top line terminates at the ‘W’ and the bottom line terminates at the ‘O’ (which should be lower case); from the positions of the room symbols relative to these lines we can determine that there is a ‘column’ of three rooms non-adjacent to the niwa (the rear zashiki with rear storage/alcove, the ‘middle’ zashiki, and front en space), that the omote runs from this column to the niwa, that the combined length of nando and daidoko is equal to that of the omote, and that the daidoko is adjacent to the niwa but the nando is not, being between the daidoko and the rear zashiki.

The floor area of each room, measured in tatami mats, is indicated by the number suffixed to it.  So the rear zashiki ‘z’ is ten tatami mats in area (jū-jо̄ １０帖), and so on.

Now for the difficult part: reconstructing the dimensions (length and width) of each room from the given floor areas.  Let’s start from the column of three rooms on the left, the combined width of which must equal the width of the building, 5.5 ken.

We know that each zashiki is 10 tatami mats (10 jо̄) in floor area, and that the en space is 5 jо̄ in area.  Keep in mind that a tatami mat is 1 ken (1.818m) long and 0.5 ken (0.909m) wide.  We know that the rear zashiki has a storage closet (oshi-ire 押入), decorative alcove (toko 床), or the like at its rear, as indicated by the small ‘s’ above the ‘z10’.  The depth (the width or transverse dimension) of this ‘s’ space is not given, but let’s assume that it is the standard 0.5 ken (0.909m).  This leaves us with 5 ken of building width (oku-yuki 奥行, lit. ‘rear going’) to distribute across the two zashiki and the en space.  Assuming that the layout is regular (seikei 整形) and therefore the transverse (vertical) partitions of these three rooms are aligned, it makes sense to also assume that each room is 2.5 ken (2.5 tatami lengths or 5 tatami widths) long; by dividing this length into the area of each room and then dividing the result by 2, we can obtain the widths of the rooms with reasonable confidence that they are correct.  For each zashiki:

(10 jо̄ / 2.5 ken) / 2 = 2 ken

For the en space:

(5 jо̄ / 2.5 ken) / 2 = 1 ken

So the dimensions of the two 10-mat zashiki are 5 tatami widths by 2 tatami lengths, i.e. 2.5 x 2 ken, and the en space is 5 tatami widths by 1 tatami length, i.e. 2.5 x 1 ken.

Next, we know that the bedroom (nando) and kitchen (daidoko) are both 10 tatami mats in area, but again, assuming the layout is regular (seikei) and therefore that the longitudinal (horizontal) partition boundary between the nando/daidokoro and the omote is aligned with that between the two zashiki, the width of these rooms must be the same as that of the rear zashiki (2 ken) and its ‘storage’ space (0.5 ken) combined, i.e. 2.5 ken.  Knowing the width (2.5 ken) and the areas (10 tatami mats or 10 jо̄ each) of the nando and daidoko, we can calculate their length by dividing the area (10 jо̄) by the width (2.5 ken, i.e. 5 tatami widths), which gives us 2 ken, or two tatami lengths.  Therefore the nando and daidoko are both 2 ken long by 2.5 ken wide. 

We know that the omote is 24 jо̄ in area.  Its length must equal that of the combined length of the nando and daidoko, i.e. 2 + 2 = 4 ken, and its width must equal that of the combined zashiki and engawa space, i.e. 2 + 1 = 3 ken.  Doing the area calculation

2(4 ken x 3 ken) = 24 jо̄

confirms that that these dimensions are correct.

As mentioned, there is a full-width engawa (‘E’) at one end of the main building, and an earth-floored utility area (niwa, ‘W’) at the other end. We know that, as the overall width of the building is 5.5 ken, these spaces must also be 5.5 ken in width, but their length is not given. We do know, however, the overall length of the main building (8 ken), and from our calculations of the room dimensions and orientations we also know that the total length of the rear zashiki, nando, and daidoko, and the total length of the front zashiki/en and omote: both sum to 6.5 ken. By subtracting this length from the overall length of the main building, we obtain a leftover length of 8 ken - 6.5 ken = 1.5 ken. It is impossible to know what share of this 1.5 ken is apportioned to the engawa and what to the niwa, but it is reasonable to assume a standard 0.5 ken for the engawa, leaving 1 ken for the niwa.

Next is the separate niwa building, the ‘W’ in ‘TH 8 x 5.5 + W 3 x 6’.  We know from the ‘3 x 6’ that this building is 3 ken long and 6 ken wide, for a total area of 2(3 x 6) = 36 jо̄ (or equivalent, since this area is earth-floored so the tatami figure here is ‘virtual’).  Comparing the width of the niwa building with that of the main building, we see that the former is 0.5 ken wider than the latter; whether because the distance between the external structural wall/posts lines themselves are more widely spaced, or because a 0.5 ken under-eave space to either the front or rear of the niwa is enclosed, we cannot tell. 

Finally the, ‘m8’ after the ‘W’ indicates that within the niwa building there is a stable (maya) or similar (‘m’) and that it is 8 jо̄ in area, though its exact position within the niwa is not captured by the symbolic description.

The layout of the Sakuta house, as reconstructed from the formulas given.

In general, though it is possible with effort and practice to arrive at the correct reconstruction using only the formulas given, there remain ambiguity and the possibility of error in translating them into the correct length and width dimensions of the various rooms, the correct room orientations, and the correct partition locations.

In terms of legibility and detail, Kawashima’s system is a significant improvement on Ishihara’s, though by Kawashima’s own admission it still isn’t perfectly comprehensive or able to capture every particularity of minka layouts in all their messy variety.  Because only the area of the rooms is given, not their length and width, the interpreter is left to puzzle out the ‘aspect ratio’ and orientation of each room: an 18 jо̄ space, for example, might be 1 ken by 9 ken, or 2 x 4.5, or 2.25 x 4, or 3 x 3, or 4 x 2.25, or 4.5 x 2, or 9 x 1.  Though the correct arrangement can usually be arrived at with common sense and some thought, this effort could be eliminated by including the length and width dimensions for each room, just as they are given for the structure as a whole. 

In the end, a notation system capable of capturing the full range of layout types and all nuances of their sub-variations to a degree of detail that guaranteed accurate reconstruction of every possible minka plan would probably be so complicated and unwieldy that one might as well use plan diagrams, which at least have the advantages of being comprehensible at a glance and of instantly conveying the ‘feel’ of the minka interior in a way that symbolic notation cannot. 

But, as Kawashima points out, there are benefits to using these symbol systems as a kind of shorthand in certain situations, such as when surveying multiple minka of a particular style in a particular region: one can undertake a detailed plan-drawing of a single representative example, and for all the others record only symbolic data, which can interpreted and reconstructed at leisure ‘back in the office’ by reference to the plan, thereby greatly reducing the labour and time (money) required for fieldwork.  Kawashima also suggests the possibility of using computers to digitise and automate the process of reconstructing and generating plan diagrams from symbolic inputs. 

This may seem quaint to us, but it is a reminder, and important to recognise, that Kawashima, Ishihara and others were surveying minka at a time either entirely before computers, or in the era of punch-cards and room-sized machines, when digital memory was scarce and expensive (Disappearing Minka was first published in 1973), to say nothing of digital cameras and all the other conveniences of our own time, including modern roads and transportation networks; in pre-war and immediate post-war Japan, just reaching some of the remoter mountain villages and islands would have been a challenge in itself.

JAPANESE MINKA LVIII - PLANNING 36: HIROMA TYPE LAYOUTS 10

The final building to be featured in this series on minka layouts is the residence of the Sakurai family (Sakurai-ke 桜井家), a large kaisendoiya (回船問屋), the combined house and business premises of a ship cargo wholesaler or shipping agent, on the Noto Peninsula (Noto Hantо̄ 能登半島), Ishikawa Prefecture. Fittingly, this grand minka is the largest we have looked at so far, at least by room count, and probably also by floor area.

The plan can be interpreted as a ‘wrapped hiroma type’ (tori-maki hiroma-gata 取巻き広間型) core, to which rooms have been added in two directions: the kyaku-ma (きゃくま) and tsugi-no-ma (つぎのま) to the facade or front side (the bottom of the plan below), and a column of five rooms, from the kami-zashiki (かみざしき) to the shufū-shitsu (主婦室), to the upper (kami-te 上み手) side (the right side of the plan). As befitting a ‘modern’ Meiji era (1868-1912) minka, the layout is a well-developed regular multi-room layout (seikei ta-madori 整形多間取り).

Plan of the residence of the Sakurai family (Sakurai-ke 桜井家), Ishikawa Prefecture.  The many rooms are arranged in a regular (seikei 整形) layout, but as with the hon-mune zukuri minka discussed in last week’s post, the layout can be seen as a wrapped-hiroma type core with the daidoko as its nucleus, to which a row/column of rooms have been added to each of the ‘upper’ and facade sides of this core.  Labelled are the passage (doma どま) with ‘big door’ (о̄do 大戸) and step platform (shikidai 式台); the niwa (にわ); the partly board (ita 板) floored kitchen (naka-shimoto なかしもと) with stove, sink, and well; another board-floored room (unlabelled) off the kitchen that is likely a pantry; the expansive (22.5 tatami mats) main living area (daidoko だいどこ) with two firepits (irori, marked ro 炉); the ‘shikidai room’ (shikidai-no-ma しきだいのま) with firepit; the ‘guest room’ (kyaku-no-ma きゃくのま) with its own shikidai; the ‘second room’ (tsugi-no-ma つぎのま) and ‘upper zashiki’ (kami-zashiki かみざしき) with shelves (tana たな), both served by a semi-internal ‘verandah’ (en えん) that leads to the bath (yoku 浴) and ‘upper toilet (kami-benjo 上便所); the Buddhist room (butsuma ぶつま) with Buddhist alcove (marked 卍); the ‘lower zashiki’ (shimo-zashiki しもざしき); the ‘anteroom’ (hikae-no-ma ひかえのま); the bedroom (nando なんど); the ‘small room’ (ko-beya こべや), likely also a bedroom, the wife’s room (shufū-shitsu 主婦室); and the husband’s room (shujin-shitsu 主人室).  To the rear of the building is a separate storehouse (kura くら).  A long wraparound verandah (mawari-en 回り縁) runs from the shimo-zashiki to the daidoko.  The interior floor area, including the doma and niwa, is roughly 270 square metres.

An unusual feature of the plan are the partitioned areas, two ken long and half a ken wide (approx. 3.64m x 0.91m), above and below the bedroom (nando なんど); presumably these function as double-fronted closets, accessible from both the nando and from the rooms on either side of it. The area above the nando could have also been used as an internal corridor to allow the husband and wife to access their respective rooms from the everyday living area (daidoko だいどこ) without disturbing anyone in the nando, but it is more likely that the ‘wraparound verandah’ (mawari-en) was used to access these rooms; with the exception of the nando and the hikae-no-ma (ひかえのま), every room in the building is accessible via either the mawari-en, the other en (えん), or the doma/niwa. The strip between the ‘small room’ (kobeya こべや) and the wife’s room (shufū-shitsu 主婦室) appears to be a stair, with storage below.

The passage-like doma (どま), corresponding to the tо̄ri-niwa (通り庭) of the traditional townhouse (machiya 町家), opens out into the large niwa (にわ) and beyond it to the part earth-floored, part board-floored kitchen (nakashimoto なかしもと).

Interior view of the Sakurai house, looking across the daidoko into the shikidai-no-ma, with part of the niwa visible on the right.  The fine finish on the timber elements, white-plastered infill panels, delicate latticework on the sliding partitions (tategu), expansive use of tatami (both with and without fabric edging heri 縁) and the presence of glass all make it evident that this is a later-period minka of an affluent family. 

JAPANESE MINKA LVII - PLANNING 35: HIROMA TYPE LAYOUTS 9

From the Matsumoto plain (Matsumoto-daira 松本平) in central Shinshū (信州), current day Nagano Prefecture, to the Iga Valley (Iga-tani 伊賀谷) and Kiso Valley (Kiso-tani 木曽谷) in south-west Nagano, there is distributed a very distinctive style of minka with shallow-pitched gable roofs (kiri-zuma 切妻), gable-end entries (tsuma-iri 妻入り), and large ridge and gable ornaments. This style is called hon-mune zukuri (本棟造り, lit. ‘true ridge construction’).

Exterior view of the Baba family residence (Baba-ke juutaku (馬場家住宅), a hon-mune zukuri (本棟造り) minka in Matsumoto City (Matsumoto-shi 松本市), Nagano Prefecture.

The plan of the Yamashita family (Yamashita-ke 山下家) residence, shown below, is an example of the kind of layout found in hon-mune zukuri minka. At base, it is a regular (seikei 整形) nine-room layout (kyū-madori or ku-madori 九間取り), close to what is called i-ji gata (囲字型), so named for its resemblance in plan to the character i 囲, ‘enclosure’. It is thought to have developed from a ‘wrapped-hiroma type’ (tori-maki hiroma-gata 取巻き広間型) layout, with an extremely large hiroma, called the oe (おえ), to which a formal zashiki has been added.

The Yamashita family (Yamashita-ke 山下家) residence, Nagano Prefecture.  There is a long, passage-like, front-to-back earth-floored utility area (doma どま) reminiscent of the tо̄ri-niwa (通り庭) of Japanese townhouses (machiya 町家).  The front section is the entry, the middle section contains the stove, and at the rear is a ‘picklery’ (tsukemono-beya つけものべや) and sink (nagashi ナガシ).  The rooms named are the formal entry (genkan げんかん), the large, partly board-floored living room (oe おえ) with firepit (irori, marked ro 炉) and cupboard (todana 戸棚), the naka-shimoto (なかしもと), likely a kitchen-dining room; the ‘flour room’ (kona-beya 粉へや); the bedroom (nema ねま); the ‘Buddha room’ (butsu-ma ぶつま) with Buddhist alcove (卍); the ‘middle room’ (naka-no-ma なかのま); the ‘inner room’ (oku-no-ma おくのま); the ‘lower zashiki’ (shimo-zashiki しもざしき); and the ‘upper zashiki’ kami-zashiki (かみざしき) with shelves (tana タナ) and decorative alcove (toko とこ).

Interior view of the Yamashita house.  Looking from the oe (おえ), the nucleus of the hon-mune zukuri layout, across the firepit (irori) towards the doma (どま).

In prefectures such as Niigata and Toyama on the Sea of Japan side of the Honshū (本州), the country’s main island, there can also be found machiya (町家) townhouses that resemble hon-mune zukuri construction in their external appearance and layout.