Edo Era Reality and Fantasy: Imai-cho and Eigamura

by Richard Humphries

I don't think there is anyone left who can actually remember what it was like to live during the Edo era in Japan. Even I can't think back that far. Nonetheless, there are a variety of ways in learn about or try to experience the past. You could sit in a library and read about the past and while that would make for a good start, it's best to hit the road and have a look. Where you should go depends on what you are after. If you want to see something reasonably authentic, where actual Edo homes are still occupied, often by families who have been there for hundreds of years, you could do a lot worse than to head to Imai-cho, a small town in Nara Prefecture. Or, if samurai dramas are your thing and you prefer to let your imagination run riot, you can visit Eigamura, or Movie Village, and located in Kyoto. I decided to do both even though I am not a particular fan of samurai dramas.

Imai-cho is not too far from Kashihara, and only a few minutes walk from Yaginishiguchi Station, on the Kintetsu Line. I arrived there in the early morning hours. At first sight it was hard to believe that this town wasn't a museum or a movie set. I remember being very careful not to make too much noise and certainly didn't want to drop any litter on the ground. The town was so spotless, it looked as though it had be cleaned by determined people wearing white gloves. On its narrow lanes, lined on either side by white-painted machiya townhouses, there were hardly any people. This was deceptive and there were soon signs of life. Children grabbed their bikes and rode away to school.

For those who assert that the past is a closed book, a visit to Imai-cho village should serve as a compelling corrective. The Tokugawa era may be long gone but something of its spirit certainly lives on there. The village is compact and measures roughly 600 meters by 310 meters. Contained within are some 700 houses, of which at least 80% date to the Tokugawa era, and many of those to the 17th century. The houses are in the traditional machiya (townhouse) style and Imai-cho is one of the best places in Japan to see that form of architecture.

Some 1,700 people now live in Imai-cho, according to Junko Morimoto at Hana Iruka, the town's community center. In the 16th century there were as many as 4000 people living in 1200 houses. The village had been founded in the early part of that century when houses began to cluster around an important local temple, Shonenji, built by members of the militant Buddhist Jodoshin sect. Imai-cho grew quickly. At one point it was considered possibly the wealthiest settlement in Yamato Japan as there was quite a lot of gold there.

A singularly bad choice of enemies almost brought about the Imai-cho's demise during the wars of the 16th century. At one critical juncture, Oda Nobunaga-who was never one for lengthy small talk-was ready to destroy the town but luckily for the Imai-cho, one of its merchants belonged to Nobunaga's tea circle and a timely "letter of forgiveness" was obtained. Connections worked then just as they seem to do now. That and the fact that there have been no significant fires in the town for hundreds of years have guaranteed its unusual preservation.

At 10 A.M. it was time to visit some of the houses. Eight of these have been designated Important Cultural Properties and seven are open to the public, typically upon payment of a small fee (¥100~¥300). I did read that it is quite a process by which properties are designated in that fashion, and involves various planning councils and resident's associations. I believe this is done so as to make sure something historic isn't torn down and replaced by structures more lucrative financially. In Imai-cho, the grandest of the houses is Imanishi-ke, which in size bears some resemblance to a fortress. The Imanishi family at one time exercised a kind of municipal jurisdiction-Imai-cho was largely self-governing-as the heads of the sodoshiyoris, or town administrators. The house possessed two jails. That I suppose, would be one reason for dinner guests to remain on their best behavior.

The inside was typical of many Imai-cho structures, though on a larger scale. On one side was a doma, or large earthen floor. Time has worked to give it the strength of cement. Facing the doma were six rooms, lined up in two parallel sets of three and partitioned, when necessary, by sliding doors. A back door led to a small garden.

As Mr. Takagi, a very exuberant chap, showed me around his house in Imai-cho, Nara prefecture, he indicated one very practical feature it possessed-a low interior ceiling. Evidently this served to deter any visitor or customer during the Tokugawa era (when the building contained a sake brewery) from pulling his sword in a fit of anger or one of drunken exuberance. I did notice several sake shops in town so it may have been true that low ceilings were definitely a great idea.

I enjoyed my visit to the Takagi House. This two-story machiya had an open-book tile roof. Originally, Imai-cho roofs were of thatch but during the Genroku period (1688~1704) tile began to dominate. The interior room pattern was similar to that at Imanishi-ke. However, at Takagi House the living room was more recessed at the back. As serious merchants they did not want their business discussions overheard.

Upstairs was an interesting feature possessed by many machiya houses in Imai-cho, the mushiko-mado or insect-cage window. Under Tokugawa restrictions, non-samurai were not meant to have the high ground. Therefore they were supposed to refrain from looking down upon their social superiors. Therefore, these small circular or rectangular grilled portholes, of decidedly limited use against mosquitoes, afforded household members a view of the neighborhood and a way around the restrictions. Out of sight, out of mind.

Although Imai-cho offers an excellent window to the past, sometimes the imagination craves more, especially if children are accompanying you. Where are the samurai, the daimyo, and the geishas? It's just as in America where children might imagine a West full of cowboys and not one of businesspeople with cellular phones. Unfortunately, Imai-cho's residents live in the present and lead normal lives. If you want over-the-top fantasy on and want it right in your face you need to look elsewhere.

Luckily you don't have to go to far but you need to be prepared to part with some money, depending on how "old" a child you are. Eigamura Movie Village), which is part of Toei Kyoto Studios. It was completed in November 1975 and began accepting tourists at that time. The area of Kyoto that Eigamura is situated in, Uzumasa, was, at one point in the 1930s, home to eight movie studios. In recent decades the Japanese film industry has changed shape. The big studios that turned of Tora-san after Tora-san, and the epics by that most sensitive of actors, Godzilla, have declined in favor of office dramas and independent films but no matter. The spirit of the big studios reigns supreme at Eigamura. In fact, the theme park was built for two reasons: to contribute to creation and development of the Japanese film industry and to preserve Japanese film as a cultural asset.

There are several attractions but most people head for the 'recreated' Tokugawa era set. Included are samurai houses, public baths, old style inns and shops, a Yoshiwara pleasure quarter, machiya and, somewhat implausibly, a special effects pool. Inside that was a brown dragon with flashing eyes that raised its head from time to time. For some reason I couldn't picture a green dragon turning the tide of battle in a shogunal war but then again, I wasn't there and perhaps the dragon was a hit with 6-year old future samurais. Eigamura also has an SFX area.

The highlight of any visit is the filming, usually of TV samurai dramas that occurs during a visit. A number of "characters" in period dress wander through the village (when not needed for filming) and are quite friendly to visitors, frequently posing. The filming is interesting and I did witness one. Everything moved rather quickly. First an area is cordoned off, and equipment such as screens and lights was moved into place. Then the cameras and microphones were synchronized and the actors in Tokugawa costume did their bit of derring-do, or another scene I saw just chatted. The filming really drew the crowds who during the filming remained quiet but became animated once it was over. One only wished the actors wouldn't smoke so much between shots as that did detract from the effect. I might be wrong but I thought only dragons were allowed to smoke during the Edo era.

Should you desire, photos taken while you wear Tokugawa style clothing and headpieces are possible, as are ones of you sitting next to "geisha" in Yoshiwara. The truly enthusiastic dress-up fan might consider purchasing a complete outfit at one of Eigamura's souvenir shops. Be warned, however, the past is not cheap. Prices for a complete and realistic-not plastic man's headpiece begin at over ¥90,000, and a woman's one at over ¥200,000. Still, this is the stuff of fantasy and of dreams. Maybe the price doesn't matter.

Eigamura is just 13 minutes on foot from Uzumasa station (JR Sagano Line). It is even closer, 5 minutes on foot, from Uzumasa station on the Keifuku Arashiyama Line)

Admission

¥2200 (Adults)

¥1300 (High & Junior High School Students)

¥1100 (Age 4~)

Open

March~Nov. 9:00~17:00,

Dec.~Feb. 9:30~16:00

all year-round (except Dec. 21~Dec. 31). (RH)