Asakusa has always been a special place for me. It’s nostalgia meets the present, and it actually has nothing to do with me. From Shibuya, one can take the Ginza line all the way to Asakusa, and I think it’s a thirty-minute ride, but I’m not sure because one of the things I love about walking or traveling around the city is losing time. Being on a schedule in Tokyo is horrific to me, and I prefer the days when I can leave my residence and look in both directions, either the right or the Left. And since I lean toward the Left politically, I usually go left. The route I prefer to go to Asakusa is taking the Yamanote Line from Meguro to Ueno Station. Four million people a day use the Yamanote Line, and it never fails. It gets crowded, and I avoid early morning and rush hour from 5 to 7 p.m. Beyond that, it is a comfortable ride from Meguro to Ueno, which takes about 30 minutes.
Once at the Ueno Station, which is busy and large, I leave from the exit/entrance on Asakusa Dori (Avenue). This large street leads one to Asakusa, and it’s a forty-minute walk. But with me and no schedule, I can take as long as I want to explore the area. Visually, there are some stunning sights, but not in that tourist sense of visual, but more of the beauty of architecture among the usual structures. The above building looks like it was squeezed between these two other structures. I’m unsure if it is a commercial business, a private residence/studio, or maybe even abandoned. But it’s fascinating that the other buildings couldn’t remove this property to build something else. One day, perhaps this little structure will leave us, but it is a consistent joy for me to see it standing there and defying the neighborhood.
This Showa-era creature/robot has been here for ages, and I feel like I’m seeing a great friend whenever I pass this ramen shop. Holding the day's specials, this found art sculpture fits the neighborhood perfectly. The rust, due to the four seasons in Tokyo, adds a human/nature touch to it all. It’s hard for me to analyze why I love this piece in this specific space, and I think I love it because it’s so organic in its approach. Japan has a firm love for its pop culture, and although it is on a surface level, it is, for me, almost a spiritual experience.
A junk shop or a second-hand store is always a wonderful exploration, no matter what city, culture, or part of the world. What people throw out in their lives becomes treasure to someone else. I suspect that there is no inventory control here, which is my favorite type of shop to visit. There are a lot of kitchen tools and instruments here, which makes sense because we are very close to the restaurant wholesaler’s section, often called Kappabashi, where one can purchase plastic food displays, as well as the sharpest knives ever made. But what gives this shop charm is that they also sell paintings here. And where did these artworks come from? Where did all this stuff come from? I try to imagine the various narrations that run through this store—a life that has stopped, but someone picks it up and continues.
The entrance to Kappabashi is the building with coffee cups on each floor. It is like a Claus Oldenburg artwork, but it’s not. That and the building directly across the street is also owned by the Nimi Co. Ltd. They supply tableware, cookware, and appliances for restaurants, kitchen utensils, and supplies. The other building has a giant statue or bust of a classic Chef’s head. Why it is not a Sushi chef instead of a European chef is a mystery to me. Still, 170 shops in this area focus on everything to do with the restaurant industry, not the food itself. Unless it’s plastic, then they sell it.
Once I entered Asakusa, I discovered this shop focusing on walking canes. It is a gentleman’s shop, but women use canes as well. Still, there is something masculine about this place. It was closed when I arrived, but I was very impressed that they had an image of the patron saint of cane users: Charlie Chaplin.
My trip of the day ended here.
Thank you Tosh. What a wonderful stroll in a place completely unknown to me.. the photo of Chaplin WTH your image in the mirror seemed appropriate.