2024-12-10

Inari Shrine

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Ryueiinari-jinja: A Hidden Inari Shrine in the Heart of Tokyo
隆栄稲荷神社:下谷神社の境内に佇む小さな稲荷社


Ryueiinari-jinja is a small Inari shrine located within the same shrine courtyard and tucked away under some trees of Shitaya Shrine, which I have introduced in recent posts. While Shitaya Shrine is a traditional Shinto shrine, Ryueiinari-jinja is specifically dedicated to Inari, the deity of rice cultivation and harvest.

Inari shrines can exist independently, but they are often found within the grounds of larger Shinto shrines. This made me wonder—why would an Inari shrine be located in this urban neighborhood of Tokyo, a city that has been a major metropolis for over a century?

To answer this, it’s important to remember that not all of Edo (modern-day Tokyo) was fully developed. By the mid-1800s, Edo had a population exceeding one million, making it one of the largest cities in the world at the time. However, some areas still had land dedicated to agriculture.

While researching historical maps, I came across two—one from 1824 and another from 1854. The older map depicted numerous rice paddies north of the imperial palace, along with many Inari shrines concentrated in what is now the Asakusa area of Tokyo. By 1854, the map showed a much more urbanized landscape, with fewer rice paddies and a noticeable decline in the number of Inari shrines.

Yet, despite these changes, both Shitaya Shrine and Ryueiinari-jinja remained, even though the remaining rice fields had shifted farther north, beyond the Sumida River. This suggests that while the immediate area may have transitioned away from agriculture, the shrine continued to serve the community, preserving its historical and spiritual significance.

Standing before the small shrine today, several traditional elements caught my eye. Hanging from the eaves is a thin shimenawa (標縄), a sacred rice straw or hemp rope that marks a ritually pure space. Attached to it are shide (紙垂), zigzag-shaped paper streamers, which further signify the presence of the divine.

In front of the shrine, a thick rope hangs for ringing the suzu (鈴), a round, hollow bell with a jingling sound, used to call upon the deity before offering prayers. Below it sits the saisenbako (賽銭箱), a wooden offering box where visitors leave monetary donations.

Flanking the shrine are two stone fox statues, each adorned with a red bib. In Shinto belief, the kitsune (fox) serves as Inari’s messenger, protecting rice fields and ensuring bountiful harvests. One theory suggests that foxes earned this role by hunting rodents in rice paddies, inadvertently safeguarding the precious crop. The red bibs, commonly seen on Inari shrine foxes, are thought to ward off illness and evil spirits, reinforcing their protective role.

Ryueiinari-jinja may be small, but it offers a fascinating glimpse into Tokyo’s past—one where agriculture and urban life coexisted, and where traditions persist even as the landscape changes.

  • Location: Shitaya Shrine Grounds, Taito-ku, Tokyo
  • Timestamp: 14:38・2024/12/10
  • Fujifilm X100V with 5% diffusion filter
  • ISO 1250 for 1/30 sec. at ƒ/10
  • Astia/Soft film simulation

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Unauthorized use for AI training is strictly prohibited.
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Floral Panda

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Floral Panda at Shitaya Shrine’s Water Font
下谷神社の花手水:パンダの彩り


Most Shinto shrines include a small, roof-covered purification font called a temizuya (手水舎; sometimes read chōzuya). This freestanding stone basin provides running water and ladles for shrine visitors to rinse their hands and mouth in symbolic purification.

The name temizuya comes from te (hand) and mizu (water), referring to the act of purifying one's hands under a small covered structure (ya). Bamboo ladles are commonly provided for washing the hands and cleansing the mouth. Regardless of faith, all visitors are welcome to take part in this purification ritual when visiting a shrine.

During the pandemic, many temizuya were temporarily closed to prevent the spread of infection. However, shrine staff had a wonderful idea—they repurposed the font as a flower vessel, filling the water basin with freshly cut flowers. This practice quickly gained popularity, and due to its widespread appeal, many shrines have continued the tradition. The beautifully arranged flowers now attract visitors of all ages, leading to the temizuya being affectionately renamed hanachōzu (花手水; hana meaning flower and chōzu meaning water font).

Shitaya Shrine, where this photo was taken, often incorporates a panda motif in its floral arrangements. This is a nod to the twin pandas, Xiao Xiao and Lei Lei, who reside at the nearby Ueno Zoo. The shrine’s Instagram feed regularly showcases its latest flower displays, delighting visitors with each new creation.

This particular arrangement caught my eye due to the striking contrast between the dark stone water font and the bright, delicate flower petals floating on the water. In the background, deep vermilion torii gates and flags add an additional layer of visual depth. While the scene is cluttered with lines, patterns, and colors—much like the energy of a Tokyo neighborhood—narrowing my focus to just the flowers brings a sense of calmness and joy. It’s heartwarming to think that someone carefully arranges these flowers simply for the enjoyment of shrine visitors.

  • Location: Shitaya Shrine, Taito-ku, Tokyo
  • Timestamp: 14:37・2024/12/10
  • Fujifilm X100V with 5% diffusion filter
  • ISO 500 for 1/30 sec. at ƒ/10
  • Astia/Soft film simulation

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© 2011-2025 Pix4Japan. All rights reserved.
Unauthorized use for AI training is strictly prohibited.
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Shitaya Shrine Craftsmanship

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Subtle Craftsmanship of Shitaya Shrine
下谷神社の唐破風と飾金具・小口金物


The Shitaya Shrine in Higashi-Ueno, Tokyo’s Taito Ward, caught my eye with its use of a curved gable called karahafu. This elegant architectural feature has been used on the roofs of Shinto shrines, Buddhist temples, and even Japanese castles since the late Heian period (794–1185), originally signifying prestige and importance.

Shitaya Shrine follows a more traditional design, using unpainted wood that is lightly decorated with bright metal fittings. These fittings, placed at the ends of rafters extending to the eaves and at the base of pillars, not only add visual interest but also help protect the structure from weathering.

I was particularly drawn to the long, narrow ornamental fittings nailed horizontally along the frame members. The golden accents contrast beautifully with the dark, aged wood, creating a harmonious balance between decoration and simplicity. Unlike more elaborate shrine embellishments, the metalwork here is used sparingly—enhancing the shrine’s elegance without feeling excessive.

Such fittings are often made of iron, copper, or gilt bronze. While they serve a decorative purpose, they also reinforce and protect structural elements, ensuring the longevity of the shrine’s intricate craftsmanship.

1. Timestamp: 14:32・2024/12/10
  • Fujifilm X100V with 5% diffusion filter
  • ISO 160 for 1/30 sec. at ƒ/10
  • Classic Chrome film simulation

2. Timestamp: 14:44・2024/12/10
  • Fujifilm X100V with 5% diffusion filter
  • ISO 160 for 1/30 sec. at ƒ/3.6
  • Astia/Soft film simulation

3. Timestamp: 14:45・2024/12/10
  • Fujifilm X100V with 5% diffusion filter
  • ISO 160 for 1/30 sec. at ƒ/3.6
  • Provia/Standard film simulation

References:

Copyright Notice for All Images:
© 2011-2025 Pix4Japan. All rights reserved.
Unauthorized use for AI training is strictly prohibited.
Visit www.pix4japan.com to learn more.



Shitaya Shrine

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Large Torii Gate Nestled Within the Urbanscape
下谷神社の大鳥居:町内の景観に溶け込む歴史の象徴


The large vermilion torii gate is one of two such gates marking the entrance to Shitaya-jinja—a local Shinto shrine with origins tracing back to the year 730, making it one of the oldest inari shrines in Tokyo. This rich historical legacy stands in stark contrast to the surrounding urban environment.

Today, two buildings, each over six stories high, occupy the street corners near the torii gate. The gate has likely stood here since the shrine's reconstruction in 1934, following its destruction in the 1923 Great Kanto Earthquake.

The building on the western side of the torii is astonishingly close to the tip of the top lintel (the horizontal beam). My immediate thought was: how has the building avoided damaging the gate during Tokyo's frequent earthquakes?

The vermilion gate may appear slightly out of place amid the modern urbanscape, yet this juxtaposition feels quintessentially Tokyo—a city where centuries-old traditions coexist seamlessly with cutting-edge infrastructure.

  • Location: Shitaya Shrine, Taito-ku, Tokyo
  • Timestamp: 14:23・2024/12/10
  • Fujifilm X100V with 5% diffusion filter
  • ISO 1000 for 1/250 sec. at ƒ/9
  • Provia/Standard film simulation

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Shinto Shrine Nestled Within the Urbanscape
下谷神社:町内の景観に溶け込む歴史の象徴


Shitaya-jinja—a local Shinto shrine with origins tracing back to the year 730, is one of the oldest inari shrines in Tokyo. This rich historical legacy stands in stark contrast to the surrounding urban environment.

  • Location: Shitaya Shrine, Taito-ku, Tokyo
  • Timestamp: 14:32・2024/12/10
  • Fujifilm X100V with 5% diffusion filter
  • ISO 160 for 1/30 sec. at ƒ/10
  • classic Chrome film simulation

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Copyright Notice for All Images:
© 2011-2025 Pix4Japan. All rights reserved.
Unauthorized use for AI training is strictly prohibited.
Visit www.pix4japan.com to learn more.



Higashi-Ueno 5-Chome

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A Walk Through Time and Motion in Higashi-Ueno, Tokyo・台東区東上野5丁目の街歩き

A short walk around 5-Chome of Higashi-Ueno in Tokyo’s Taito Ward revealed three moments that captured my eye—each telling a story of the area's history, contrasts, and vibrancy.

Amid the gleaming, modern skyline of office buildings, residential condominiums, and hotels, a humble mixed-use building quietly persists. This relic of the Showa era, with a shop on the first floor and residential space above, feels like a lonely survivor of a bygone era. Surrounded by parking lots and overshadowed by towering developments, it seems destined to make way for yet another sleek office block or high-rise apartment building. Yet, for now, it stands, hinting to me a nostalgia of a different Tokyo—one of small mom-and-pop shops and tightly knit communities.

Across the street from where I had just finished a meeting with a client, another piece of history caught my eye. An old wooden residence, likely the home of the monk or caretaker of Ryūkoku-ji Temple, exudes a quiet elegance. This traditional structure, with its graceful tiled roof and weathered wooden exterior, is thought to have been rebuilt alongside the temple after the devastating Great Kanto Earthquake of 1923. Standing next to a gleaming steel-and-glass high-rise, this residence preserves centuries of culture and tradition in contrast to the rapid modernization that defines much of Tokyo today.

A few blocks away, the quiet hum of the city was suddenly interrupted by the shrill sound of alarms and a booming announcement over a loudspeaker. Firefighters sprang into action, swiftly donning their gear as fire trucks roared to life. The energy was intense as I hurriedly took photos, trying to capture the scene. Among the many frames, only one was sufficiently sharp: a firefighter securing his oxygen tank, a moment of focus and readiness amidst the chaos. Though my slower shutter speed made sharper shots difficult, this one image managed to freeze the motion just enough to convey the urgency and determination of the moment.

Higashi-Ueno’s 5-Chome, a small triangular-shaped subdivision that includes about 21 blocks of cramped buildings, isn’t much different from the thousands of other small subdivisions scattered throughout Tokyo’s 23 wards, where the past and present coexist in fascinating ways. From the quiet resilience of old buildings to the rapid pulse of a modern city at work, I was able to catch a glimpse of Tokyo’s layered character during my short break before returning to my office in Yokohama. My walk around this corner of Taito Ward reminded me of how much life unfolds in even the smallest details of a city’s urbanscape.

  • Location: Higashi-Ueno, Taito-ku, Tokyo
  • Timestamp: 14:12・2024/12/10
  • Fujifilm X100V with 5% diffusion filter
  • ISO 640 for 1/250 sec. at ƒ/8
  • Acros film simulation

  • Location: Ryūkoku-ji Temple, Taito-ku, Tokyo
  • Timestamp: 14:14・2024/12/10
  • Fujifilm X100V with 5% diffusion filter
  • ISO 1250 for 1/250 sec. at ƒ/9
  • Classic Chrome film simulation

  • Location: Ueno Fire Station, Taito-ku, Tokyo
  • Timestamp: 14:20・2024/12/10
  • Fujifilm X100V with 5% diffusion filter
  • ISO 3200 for 1/60 sec. at ƒ/9
  • Astia Soft film simulation

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© 2011-2025 Pix4Japan. All rights reserved.
Unauthorized use for AI training is strictly prohibited.
Visit www.pix4japan.com to learn more.



Grave Markers

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Location: Ryūkoku-ji Temple, Taito-ku, Tokyo
Timestamp: 14:07・2024/12/10
Fujifilm X100V with 5% diffusion filter
ISO 320 for 1/600 sec. at ƒ/8
Acros film simulation

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Location: Ryūkoku-ji Temple, Taito-ku, Tokyo
Timestamp: 14:09・2024/12/10
Fujifilm X100V with 5% diffusion filter
ISO 320 for 1/1250 sec. at ƒ/8
Classic Negative film simulation

Itatōba: From India to China to Japan
板塔婆の旅路:インドから中国、そして日本へ


While enjoying a short break from a business meeting near Ueno Station in Tokyo, I took a short break to wander through the local area before heading back to Yokohama. My meandering walk brought me to Ryūkoku-ji Temple, a small, nondescript oasis in Taito Ward, Tokyo.

Compared to my family’s cemetery in rural Shizuoka Prefecture, which is surrounded by bamboo groves and rice paddies, this cemetery in central Tokyo struck me as surprisingly similar. Despite being nestled within the urbanscape of high-rise towers made of glass, steel, and concrete, it felt just as calm, quiet, and peaceful as the one back home in Shizuoka minus the croaking frogs.

As is quite common at most Buddhist cemeteries in Japan, wooden grave markers stood upright behind family gravestones or leaned against them. These markers, known as itatōba (板塔婆), hiratōba (平塔婆), or sotōba (卒塔婆), all essentially mean the same thing: flat, wooden grave markers.

Unlike similarly looking markers found at Shinto cemeteries, these markers feature five notches on either side, symbolizing the five elements of Japanese Buddhist thought: sky, wind, fire, water, and earth, from top to bottom. A vertical inscription in Sanskrit further hints at their Buddhist origins.

The history of these markers originated in India from where they made their way to Japan via China. Over the centuries, the symbols and their designs evolved, yet the reference to the five elements has remained a constant connection to the spiritual traditions they represent.

During this late afternoon, the clear, bright sky provided beautiful contrasts, with the dark shadows and bright areas facing the sun creating a dramatic effect. I felt this scene would be good for a monochrome shot, capturing not only the details of the itatōba but also the quiet atmosphere of the cemetery.

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Pendant Tiles

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Engatou: Decorative and Protective Roles of Pendant Tiles in Japanese Temples and Shrines
「台東区にて、炭黒の『龍』と鮮やかな銀杏の葉」


Upon wrapping up a business meeting in Tokyo, I crossed the street from my client’s office and stepped into the courtyard of Ryūkoku-ji Temple (龍谷寺) in Taito Ward, Tokyo.

Originally established in 1616, the temple was relocated to its current site in 1655. However, the original structure was severely damaged during the Great Kanto Earthquake of 1923. The temple we see today was reconstructed after the earthquake—just one of many symbols of Tokyo’s history and resilience.

Adjacent to the temple grounds, I noticed a small pile of round eave-end roof pendant tiles, known as engatou (円瓦当). Each tile features a circular pendant inscribed with the kanji character “Ryū” (龍), the first character of the temple’s name.

Pendant tiles like these are a common feature on the eaves of roofs in Shinto shrines and Buddhist temples throughout Japan. Not only do they serve a decorative purpose by forming a symmetrical finish along the eaves, but they also provide functional protection by preventing rainwater from seeping between and under the roofing tiles and the roof sheathing.

What immediately caught my eye was the striking contrast between the charcoal-black engatou and the vibrant yellow ginkgo leaves scattered around them. Adding to the scene’s charm was the use of “seal script” for the kanji character imprinted on the tiles.

This style of writing, called tensho-tai (篆書体) in Japanese, is akin to a specialized font for kanji. It is widely used in Japan on banknotes, passports, and official seals (known as ginko-in, or bank hanko stamps). Tensho-tai’s elegance and historical significance make it a fitting choice for temple ornamentation.

As I admired the scene, I couldn’t help but wonder about the story behind these tiles. Were they spares, waiting to replace damaged ones? Were they broken, or perhaps removed during a renovation? Where are such tiles manufactured, and how expensive are they to produce? Why was tensho-tai chosen for the inscription, instead of one of the other scripts commonly used in Japan?

These unanswered questions have left me eager for a future visit. Perhaps next time, I’ll have the chance to speak with a monk or the temple’s groundskeeper to learn more about the history and craftsmanship behind these captivating tiles. It’s remarkable that, despite living in Japan for over 40 years and seeing these tiles on roofs everywhere I go, this is the first time I’ve looked at them up close and begun to wonder about their story. Reflecting on this, I can’t help but feel a small twinge of regret for not being more curious about them decades ago.

  • Location: Ryūkoku-ji Temple, Taito-ku, Tokyo
  • Timestamp: 14:03・2024/12/10
  • Fujifilm X100V with 5% diffusion filter
  • ISO 3200 for 1/9 sec. at ƒ/8
  • Classic Chrome film simulation

  • Location: Ryūkoku-ji Temple, Taito-ku, Tokyo
  • Timestamp: 14:08・2024/12/10
  • Fujifilm X100V with 5% diffusion filter
  • ISO 1000 for 1/250 sec. at ƒ/8
  • Classic Chrome film simulation

References:


Copyright Notice for All Images:
© 2011-2025 Pix4Japan. All rights reserved.
Unauthorized use for AI training is strictly prohibited.
Visit www.pix4japan.com to learn more.