The third of a three-part series looking at superstitions surrounding fishing in Yaizu, one of Japan’s most notorious fishing ports.
The first day of painting was the coldest but instead of going inside the wooden house we retreated further into our jackets to stay and watch Kami and Sasu make preparations. On that wintery day, these two mural painters were covering a concrete wall outside an old house in the backstreets of Shibuya. Tins of paint, brushes, rollers and bags are spread out to form a work station on the side of the road by the wall.
Tokyo has cleverly disguised its Sento as lavish temples and the only evidence of their true identity, and the naked bathing inside, comes from the steam rising above the tiled rooftops and the chrome smokestack. However, careful eyes can pick them out by the “hafu,” a curved wooden shape hanging over the entrance. “It symbolizes an entrance to paradise,” says Sento writer Shinobu Machida. There are only three other places where you can see such a shape: at the entrance to a temple, on a funeral car and outside a soapland (brothel).”
Online gallery of
Japanese Contemporary Art
www.azito-art.com
Kiyoto Maruyama is one of two remaining “Penki-eshi” (Sento painters) in Tokyo. Today he is painting the back wall of Fujino-yu, but as we arrive he climbs down from the scaffolding, walks through the coffee cans and paint tins to sit down in front of us. His track pants and slip on canvas shoes are coated in a dense patina of blue and white paint and behind his seated silhouette, today’s wet, half-finished portrait of Mt. Fuji is drying in the afternoon sunlight.