デジタル祭プロジェクトは工事中: Under Construction

Posted on January 23rd, 2007 by Jay.
Categories: Announcements.

The digital matsuri project is still being built. I have a lot of footage to encode, and I’m getting it done piece by piece.

Currently available festivals:

The Asakusa Sanja Matsuri
The Sakura Matsuri in Ueno Park
The Ikebukuro Oeshiki Matsuri
The Tori no Ichi Matsuri (Azabu-Juuban, Asakusa)

Currently working on:

New Years at the Meiji Shrine
The Shitaya Matsuri
The Bon-Odori


When the site is fully launched (by this spring) I’ll have 10 hours of footage and over a dozen festivals.

Did you know: You can change the background of this page by clicking on one of the boxes at the top.

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Tori no Ichi Matsuri (Azabu-Juuban, Asakusa)

Posted on November 4th, 2006 by Jay.
Categories: Announcements.

The official homepage of the Asakusa Tori no Ichi Matsuri (English)

The Tori no Ichi matsuri is an open-air market festival whose tradition stretches back hundreds of years to the period of Japanese history known as the “Edo Period” (1603-1868). The name “Tori no Ichi” or “Market of the Rooster” comes from the fact that the festival takes place on the “Days of the Rooster” in the Chinese calendar, which in the Western calendar fall in November. Shrines across Tokyo celebrate the festival, but the most famous one is near Tokyo’s Asakusa district.

You can find an excellent description of the festival’s history at the official homepage (linked above).

Moving to an area not too far from Asakusa in October 2005, I first saw signs for the Tori no Ichi matsuri around my neighborhood a few weeks after arrival. I’d not heard of the festival before, but the first time I went to get a haircut near my place I mentioned to the barber that I was interested in filming some festivals, and he said that I should be certain to go to the upcoming Tori no Ichi festival, which featured some interesting o-mamori (amulets) in the shape of rakes.

Those amulets in the shape of bamboo rakes are the most famous symbol of the festival. Some are the size of your palm, others are so large you’d probably need a truck to take them home. They are charms for happiness in the upcoming year; in fact the Tori no Ichi festival is considered part of the start of the New Years season in Tokyo.

The first year I went to the Tori no Ichi festival I walked from my apartment to the shrine, whose exact location I wasn’t quite sure of, but I figured there’d be a lot of other people nearby going there and I should just follow where the crowds were heading. I was right; trailing some families eventually took me to the crowded road leading toward the “Otori shrine.” Police stood on top of vans shouting instructions with bullhorns, telling cars not to park or drop off passengers nearby while requesting that the crowd move toward the shrine without pushing.

I waited with the crowd that was inching its way toward the entrance of the shrine, overhearing conversations, many of which were on how many people had come this year. (I heard the same thing repeated the year after, though, so the large crowds seem to be normal.) When we reached the entrance gate to the shrine, young men in priest attire waved gohei over our heads, branches with specially folded strips of paper on them.

Inside the shrine was dazzling- the result of bright lights bouncing off the gold foil of the many rake charms being sold by vendors. I continued with the crowd, moving slowly toward the main sanctuary, where people were tossing coins for good luck and fortune. After tossing, many gave a small prayer, and then moved quickly on (with little choice- the police monitored everything carefully and gave mere seconds for each group of festival goers.)

The inside of the shrine was packed by vendors selling rake charms; every inch of space was taken up by one booth or another. Each time a sale was made the vendors clapped their hands and made a lot of noise, drawing attention to their booth. Also making brisk business were part-time shrine maidens working for the shrine selling other amulets such as for good health and luck in studies. Around the exterior of the shrine, dotting the maze of alleys were various yatai, festival stalls that sell foods, snacks, and toys. I walked home that year with a large grilled cob of corn in hand, while the people in front of me had purchased a large rake that easily cost them over 10,000 yen ($90).

This is not the only shrine celebrating the Tori no Ichi festival, though. In 2006 I wanted to see how the festival was performed by a different shrine. I asked my barber for a suggestion, but he tilted his head, sucked in some air, and professed that while he knew other shrines in the city held the festival, he couldn’t single any out. Around the city I saw some signs- there was a shrine in Shinjuku celebrating the festival, and all around Azabu-Juuban were promotional banners for their upcoming version of it. I decided the latter would be more interesting in comparison to Asakusa.

I arrived in Azabu-Juuban in the afternoon of the 4th, the first day of the Tori no Ichi festival in 2006. (There were to be two others in November.) I could hear festival flutes and drums, but they were being played by a tape recorder in a store on the shopping district street. Turning the corner near the Juuban’s Inari shrine (a shrine to the Fox God) I saw a number of stalls selling food and a few games for kids to play. As you can see in the video below, there weren’t that many people there, and there were even fewer who stopped by the nearby shrine to toss coins. It seemed like a small celebration for locals.

In contrast, arriving at Iriya station I saw families and holding rake charms walking in the direction toward the Otori shrine. I was coming from a different route, but like the year before I only had to follow the crowds to make my way to the shrine. The festival was as I’d remembered it from the year before. This was one of the few festivals I’ve had the opportunity to film twice, and I think it’s pretty interesting to see how much of it stays the same each year.

2006 - Azabu-Juuban and Asakusa PART 1

High resolution video (100 megs; right click, save-as)

Low resolution Youtube streaming:


2006 - Azabu-Juuban and Asakusa PART 2

High resolution video (100 megs; right click, save-as)

Low resolution Youtube streaming:


2005 - Asakusa Otori

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Low resolution Youtube streaming:


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The Asakusa Sanja Matsuri

Posted on May 21st, 2006 by Jay.
Categories: Festival Videos.

The official homepage of the Sanja Matsuri (Japanese only)

The Sanja Matsuri is held by the Asakusa Sanja Shrine on the grounds of the Asakusa Kan’non Temple in Taito-ku, Tokyo. In 2006, it was held May 19th-21st.

It is known as one of the “three great Tokyo festivals,” dating back to the Edo period. On the first day of the festival, there is a grand procession with traditional dancers and musicians who parade around the Asakusa area. On the second day, around one hundred mikoshi parade in the area around the Asakusa Temple, with the mikoshi having been brought from nearby neighborhood associations. The third day is the climax of the festival, where the three mikoshi belonging to the Sanja Shrine are paraded in three different routes that surround the shrine’s parishoner district. The grand finale takes place in front of the Sanja Shrine around 8pm, with the last of the mikoshi being brought down the long avenue of nakamise that line the road to the Asakusa Kan’non, and then turning toward the Asakusa Shrine.

Asakusa is located in Tokyo’s shitamachi or Low City, where the traditional culture of Edo thrived, and which is considered ‘traditional Tokyo’ today as well. Originally, Asakusa was outside the purvue of the Low City, which was located in Nihonbashi and Ginza, but with the growth of Edo to Tokyo, the area known as shitamachi has come to encompass Asakusa. During the Sanja matsuri, the neighborhoods of the shitamachi are filled with banners and posters promoting the festival, and as you walk down certain backstreets, you can hear recordings of flute playing or drums being beat- you are nearing one of the mikoshi that a local neighborhood association (chonaikai) is going to bring to the festival.

I live in the shitamachi, in an area of Tokyo called Negishi, which is a twenty minute walk from Asakusa. On the days of the festival, I walked through these neighborhoods, and it felt like the entire shitamachi was alive with song. In addition, at the same time the Sanja matsuri took place, there were various other small festivals being held at nearby shitamachi shrines.

The first day of the festival is the slowest. There are opening ceremonies at the Asakusa Shrine as well as a parade of costumed performers who walk around Asakusa, although I wasn’t able to get close enough to the Sanja Shrine to get good footage of the ceremonies there. I’m including video of the first day here more because I’m a completionist than because it’s interesting. Apart from those who came to see the ceremonies at the shrine, the crowds were low and many of the festival booths (yatai; sellers of snacks and candies) weren’t even open yet.

The second day of the festival is a lot of fun. Mikoshi surround the temple as far as the eye can see. Behind you are mikoshi, in front of you are mikoshi, and to the left and right of you- you guessed it- mikoshi. We start off Day 2 heading from the side of the Asakusa Kan’non Temple grounds going toward the temple’s back, where many mikoshi finish their parade route. We then move toward the front of the temple and see mikoshi being presented to the crowds who line the road of the nakamise; a hundreds-year-old long row of shops that sell everything from toys and trinkets to confections, snacks, and clothing. Later on in the day there are various performances held, such as taiko drum demonstrations.

Unfortunately, despite the fact that it was considerably hot and humid, a sudden downpour that began in the late afternoon ruined the rest of the day’s festivities. I was buying roast corn from a vendor when he turned to the sky and said, “It looks like rain.” And sure enough, within a minute, it was pouring. Hundreds of people gathered inside the Asakusa Temple, waiting it out. I stuck around for forty minutes, but when it appeared the rain wouldn’t let up, I ran from the temple (not having brought an umbrella with me) toward the covered marketplace where I’d left my bicycle. There, protected from the rain, mikoshi were still being paraded. In fact, one had just finished its parade route, and parked the mikoshi next to my bicycle, making it a bit hard to reach.

The third day is the festival’s climax, and I followed one of the three mikoshi being paraded around the shitamachi. The choice was rather arbitrary; I stuck with the first mikoshi I saw, which was in Senzoku, slightly northwest of Asakusa and not too far from where I live in Negishi. First I came across groups that were waiting for their turn to hold the mikoshi, then I struck the flood of people that followed the mikoshi (which, in this case, was coming toward me like a tidal wave.)

One thing I noticed, and that I hope you get a sense of in the videos, is the strong police presence that was watching over everyone, especially as the mikoshi moved through the streets that day. Police stand on the streets, line the crowds, and hover over in towers above, ensuring that the festival is kept as peaceful (and controlled) as possible.

As I followed this particular mikoshi around Senzoku, I at one point got too close and was swept up in the crowds of people who were moving back and forth (in violent motions) with the palaquin itself. Which is a lot of fun if you’re not holding a very breakable digital camcorder. Luckily for me, I came at the end of that neighborhood’s run, and it wasn’t too long before they had to stop (which is kind of like trying to stop a rolling boulder- you have to do it slowly) and I was free of their gravitational pull. I was able to film the end and restart ceremonies (when a new group began carrying the mikoshi for the next leg of its route) there in Senzoku, before I headed toward Asakusa to wait for its return.

In Asakusa I was struck by the great crowds already assembled, far more than even that of the previous day. I somehow managed my way up to the steps of the temple, where I was able to catch the early arrival of one mikoshi, before it continued on to the rest of its route. Assuming that the best place to catch the final ceremonies of the festival would be on the steps of the temple, where the day before all the presenting of mikoshi had been made, I claimed a spot around 4pm, when the crowd on the step had gone down (everyone apparently went to go eat dinner or grab some food from the stalls, knowing that the mikoshi wouldn’t be back until nightfall.)

I stood there, hoping that we were looking at a 5:30pm or so arrival of the mikoshi. It turned dark, but the only thing that happened was the police corded off the courtyard in front of us, and on the sides. No one could come up to the steps of the temple, but neither was it easy to get off. And by the time we were corded off around 5:30 a significant crowd had already assembled on the steps of the Asakusa Kan’non Temple. I found myself a pretty good position, in the center toward the top, leaning on the box where coins are tossed into and underneath the temple’s large lantern. But as time passed, the people around me began getting agitated. Some foreigners near me eventually gave up and left. Several old Japanese men, with large, professional-looking cameras, snapped at anyone who dared get in the way of their shot, shouting at people to kneel even without anything to take a photograph of, and jeered when (as the clock started hitting 7pm) a couple people decided to leave.

Hours had passed with no sign of the mikoshi’s return. Finally we heard sounds and crowds, only to be dissapointed that they were coming from the Asakusa Shrine’s courtyard next door. At this point it dawned on some people that perhaps we’d settled in the wrong place- the festival was that of the shrine and not the temple, after all. But we continued to wait.

Around 7:30 we could see a lot of movement happening in the nakamise. The priest of the Asakusa Shinto Shrine, along with lantern bearers and many other officials, began assembling in the blocked-off courtyard. It took some 45 minutes for the mikoshi to get from Kaminarimon (the “Lightning Gate” that marks the entrance of the nakamise) to the courtyard, with the festival finally ending around 9pm. I’d been standing on the steps of the temple for five hours. But seeing the final ceremony from the temple’s steps was well worth it.

DAY 1 - Opening Ceremonies

Low resolution Youtube streaming:


DAY 2 (Part 1) - Mikoshi assembling at the back of the Asakusa Temple.

High resolution video (100 megs; right click, save-as)

Low resolution Youtube streaming:


DAY 2 (Part 2) - Mikoshi being presented at the front of the Asakusa Temple.

High resolution video (100 megs; right click, save-as)

Low resolution Youtube streaming:


DAY 2 (Part 3) - Taiko drums and rain.

High resolution video (40 megs; right click, save-as)

Low resolution Youtube streaming:


DAY 3 (Part 1) - Mikoshi is being paraded around the low city; crowds and police are legion.

High resolution video (100 megs; right click, save-as)

Low resolution Youtube streaming:


Recommended video!
DAY 3 (Part 2) - We become entrapped in the movement of the mikoshi, and witness a changing of the guard.

High resolution video (100 megs; right click, save-as)

Low resolution Youtube streaming:


DAY 3 (Part 3) - Back at the Asakusa Temple, mikoshi begin to arrive.

High resolution video (100 megs; right click, save-as)

Low resolution Youtube streaming:


DAY 3 (Part 4) - The final ceremony of the festival takes place.

High resolution video (160 megs; right click, save-as)

Low resolution Youtube streaming: (Please note, the Youtube version is difficult to see due to it being filmed at night. I recommend the high resolution version instead.)


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Sakura Festival - Ueno Park

Posted on April 1st, 2006 by Jay.
Categories: Festival Videos.

High resolution video (100 megs; right click, save-as)

Low resolution Youtube streaming:




Perhaps no flower is as beloved by the Japanese as is the Sakura, the cherry blossom. Countless poems have been written about them, countless works have been painted of them. The cherry blossom is a symbol of life and death, of beauty, and spring. Each spring millions of Japanese perform Hanami, flower viewing, waiting until the cherry blossom trees have reached their full blossom and the petals have begun falling down in pink-tinged whirlwinds. Families, friends, school classes, and work associates will gather under the trees for Hanami parties where the sake is flowing and the food is plentiful.

One of the most popular spots for Hanami in Tokyo is Ueno Park. Located near Ueno Train Station, this is one of the largest public parks in the city, and is famous for its Sakura-tree lined walk, as well as its zoo, numerous museums, and nearby Shinobazu Pond. Ueno Park was one of the five original public parks developed under the Meiji government in the late 19th century, and is perhaps today the only one which still remains in its original character as a park. (Others, such as Shiba Park, have been largely eaten away by the urban environment.)

Each year, Ueno Park- supported by the local businesses that surround it- holds a “Sakura Festival” celebrating the blossoming of its cherry blossom trees. The word used for ‘festival’ remains “matsuri,” but it’s a slightly different usage of matsuri than the traditional festival with mikoshi palaquins that we tend to think of when we consider a Japanese festival. Indeed, the usage here is symbolic of the fondness the Japanese have for the word matsuri, which is used in a wide variety of contexts.

While there is no palaquin being paraded around Ueno Park during the Sakura Festival, the park is filled with a feeling of merryment and auspiciousness. Hanami has a variety of associated imagery. One is the cherry blossom, which people enjoy watching both blooming on the trees and falling down from them, and the other is the festivities. Loud, singing drunkards and sitting under the stars with sake and snacks are both common to Hanami and you’ll see both in this video if you pay close enough attention. (Unfortunately I didn’t get enough video of the drunk singing guy!) All around are partiers, who keep going late into the night and into the next day, turning Ueno from a park into a wonderland of public enjoyment.

To participate, however, you need a spot, and these are highly prized. People will stake their claim for a small patch on the cold concrete days ahead of time, sometimes taking turns with friends to stay there and ensure that their claim is kept. Once the party gets into full swing, the park is so packed that it’s hard to move without tripping over someone sipping sake on a blue, plastic mat that is sold at nearby convenience stores for the almost explicit reason of this kind of use.

Most of the people will prepare foods or bring food that they’ve purchased to their mat. Restaurants sell special Hanami packs which include a variety of foods that I guess go well with cherry blossom viewing- McDonalds even sold their chicken nuggets with a special dipping sauce made from cherry blossoms. Dominos had pizza packs for the Hanami enthusiast; even delivering them to groups at the park. I’d love to know what kind of directions the delivery boys were given to bring the food to this or that mat as I saw those pizzas being delivered to people in the park!

Hard at work are the police, who attempt to keep the celebration as orderly as possible. The police presence is very strong and they keep a watchful eye on those who get a little too drunk. Unfortunately there’s little they can do about the mountains of garbage that pile up all around the park. Although the park’s keepers set up special garbage areas all over, many people are just as content to form their own garbage pile. Walking around the park at night, I came upon garbage mountains ten feet high, piled up against a tree. One middle-aged man tossed an empty beer can on top, perhaps a fitting nightcap to the day.

1 comment.

The Ikebukuro Oeshiki Matsuri

Posted on October 20th, 2005 by Jay.
Categories: Festival Videos.

The official homepage of the Ikebukuro Oeshiki Matsuri (Japanese only)

Information on Oeshiki festivals at the Japan National Tourist Organization homepage

The Oeshiki matsuri relates to a Buddhist funeral service held usually in October, a celebration that commemorates the death of the founder of the Nichiren sect of Buddhism, Nichiren Shonin who lived from 1222 to 1282.

Oeshiki matsuri are held by Buddhist Temples all over Japan. They involve a parade of intrically decorated mando (literally “10,000 lanterns”) which look like lit umbrellas, beneath which are beautiful wooden pagodas that often feature pictures or carvings of Nichiren and scenes from his life. Walking around the mando are people swinging matoi, used by firemen in the Edo period to signify brigades and serve as means of communication. Surrounding them and following in front and back are flute players and drummers, who make the festival very lively.

The most famous and grandest of the Oeshiki matsuri is that held in Ikegami Honmonji. Unfortunately I do not have video of that festival, although you can search Youtube for some fine footage. Rather, this Oeshiki matsuri took place in Ikebukuro.

On the Yamanote line train that circles central Tokyo, six stations are written in bold: Tokyo Station, Ueno Station, Shinagawa Station, Shinjuku Station, Shibuya Station, and Ikebukuro Station. Each of those stations serves as a hub that brings people from other parts of Tokyo or Japan into Tokyo proper. Shinjuku, for example, is the hub to Tokyo’s vast western suburban population. Ueno serves that of the population to the northeast of the city, Shibuya for the southwest and Yokohama. Ikebukuro is the hub for the northwest.

Around each of these hubs a “city center” has grown; large department and electronic stores, myriad restaurants and entertainment venues, as well as large shopping districts. Near the train station Ikebukuro is bathed in the neon lights of karaoke joints, fast food restaurants, pachinko parlors, and more. Unlike the shitamachi or low city where I live, it is a bustling place (a sakariba). A major festival taking place in Ikebukuro was in many ways more interesting to me than even the grander Oeshiki matsuri in Ikegami. The question I asked myself in filming this festival was, “How does one hold a grand event such as this in a busy city quarter?” I hope as you view these videos you keep that thought in mind.

I took the subway to Ikebukuro, and as I was walking toward the entrance I could hear the drums and flutes of the parade. The video starts off as I step out of the station and find the parade is passing immediately across the street. As a policeman helps start and stop the parade to match with traffic patterns, the participants draw energy from the many passersby that stop to watch the parade, sometimes spotting friends and waving to them.

The parade was considerable in length, featuring dozens of floats, each sponsored by a different neighborhood in Ikebukuro. Much of the video below is an attempt to gauge the size of participation- we’ll start around the middle of the parade, head toward the end, then skip to near the front.

As the parade left the heart of Ikebukuro and into its quieter neighborhoods, where the host temple was located, the streets darkened but the lively nature of the parade did not let up. Participants were noisy and rowdy.

The closer we came to the temple, the narrower the streets became, and the more crowded and pressed together we were. It was all leading to the festival’s center stage, the presenting of the lantern at the temple itself, and the praying of the participants at the temple’s altar. Police control of the festival was present, but not as heavy as in some of the other festivals I’ve seen; in contrast, this was the only matsuri I attended it more than a year of filming where I witnessed an actual fight (some of which you can see shakily in part four.) The nearby police put a stop to it almost as soon as it happened.

Around the temple grounds were yatai or stalls, selling candies, snacks, and toys. They snaked around the grounds of the temple, where festival-goers congregated. All over the grounds, various other ceremonies were taking place- even after praying at the central altar, groups continued onto various smaller shrines located nearby.

PART 1 - Watching the parade of mando and matoi.

High resolution video (100 megs; right click, save-as)

Low resolution Youtube streaming:


PART 2 - Continuing down the parade, through Ikebukuro.

High resolution video (100 megs; right click, save-as)

Low resolution Youtube streaming:


PART 3 - The parade performs and weaves through narrow alleys, arriving at the temple.

High resolution video (100 megs; right click, save-as)

Low resolution Youtube streaming:


Recommended video!
PART 4 - Now at the temple, we make our way through rows of stalls to the central altar.

High resolution video (100 megs; right click, save-as)

Low resolution Youtube streaming:


PART 5 - Praying at the central altar and seeing the festivities around the temple grounds.

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Low resolution Youtube streaming:


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