Cluster Twenty-Six:
Haiku Stones in Aoyama

Aoyama is one of Tokyo's upscale residential and shopping districts - the latest addition to its fame is the bright, polyhedral glass structure of Prada by architects Herzog and De Meuron - and not an area where one would expect to find any haiku stones. Wrong - there are temples and so there are haiku stones as well. The temples are tucked away but lead their own quiet life behind the glossy facade of Aoyama's boutiques. There are two stones with haiku by Basho in the Zenkoji and Kaizoji temples, as well as a kuhi bearing a haiku by modern poet Nakamura Kusatao in the grounds of the Seinan Elementary School...

Sometimes there are things you are looking for sitting right under your nose, while you are not aware of it: not far from my apartment in Tokyo stands the Seinan Elementary School and this school is also in the happy possession of an interesting kuhi. I discovered this when I read Haiku de Aruku Edo-Tokyo (Walking around Edo-Tokyo with haiku) by Yamashita Kazumi and Utsugita Yoshie (Chuokoronsha 2003), a little book that gives haiku for 88 places in Tokyo (although only a small number are kuhi). As the haiku stands in the schoolgrounds, it can not normally be visited, but you can see it through the fence, to the right of the main gate.

The haiku is from the pen of Nakamura Kusatao (1901-1983), who was born in Amoy, China, where his father served as Japanese Consul. He studied at Tokyo University and graduated with a thesis on Shiki. Kusatao led the quiet life of a teacher and professor; he also founded his own haiku school and haiku magazine. His work tends to be rather philosophical.

Kusatao had been for two years a pupil of Seinan Elementary School - that was still in the Meiji-period (1868-1912), as Kusatao was born in 1901. In this poem, written twenty years later, he revisits Aoyama and his old school. It is a snowy day. The neighborhood has changed beyond recognition, and the Meiji-period is a thing of the far-away past. Perhaps Kusatao is reminded that his own youth, too, has ended.

Just behind the bustling Omotesando Crossing with its boutiques and fashionable crowds, stands a quite nunnery of Pure Land Buddhism. Called Zenkoji, it is affiliated with the famous temple of the same name in Nagano. Originally, this temple was founded in 1601 in Yanaka, after Chikei, the 109th abbot of Zenkoji, had received permission from Tokugawa Ieyasu. The temple moved in 1705 to Aoyama, but fell prey to repeated fires so that the present halls are all of recent date. The beautiful Nio Gate stands half hidden behind the shops lining Aoyama-dori. When I visited for the haiku stone, the main hall was under repair and the grounds littered with building materials. There are several monuments in the grounds. One is dedicated to Takano Choei (1804-1805), who studied with Von Siebold to become a doctor but was thrown into jail when he wrote a book criticizing the policies of the Bakufu government; the other to the three inventors of the rikisha, Izumi Yosuke, Suzuki Tokujiro and Takayama Kosuke.

Zenkoji

There is also a haiku stone here, as I learned from a recently published book, Edo no Basho wo Aruku ("Walking Edo's Basho", Kawade Shobo Shinsha, 2007). In fact, after fruitlessly searching the grounds, I found the stone in the small garden of the temple office. It sits behind a gate, but if you ask permission at the office you will be allowed inside the fine and well-manicured garden. The stone is fairly old: it dates from 1848 and was put up by one Taizan.

The haiku was written in 1685, when Basho walked along the Tokaido over the pass between Kyoto and Otsu. There is no link with Zenkoji, except that already in the 19th c. this area was called Aoi Yama, "Green Hills," which may have reminded people of violets.

When you follow Aoyama-dori in the direction of Akasaka and turn left into Gaien-Nishi-dori at the next large crossing, you will soon see the red dragon gate of Kaizoji on your right, next to a Muji shop. This is again a spot I hade passed before without paying attention. The temple is a concrete affair, belonging to the Obaku Zen School, and there is really nothing to see - except the kuhi, which stands immediately left after you enter the gate. The stone is even older than the one in Zenkoji, as it dates from 1817. Referring to the haiku, it is also called Hitoha-Zuka, or "One-Leaf Mound." Basho wrote this haiku in 1688 as a humorous comment on the tongue fern: even in the midst of summer, when all other plants put out countless leaves in a riot of green, this lonely fern has only one leaf.

When you continue along Gaien-Nishi-dori and then turn right at the first crossing into Seizoroi Slope, you will find another haiku temple, but this one unfortunately is not open to the public. Ryugonji's gate is firmly shut, although it does have a haiku stone dating from 1793, called the "Plum and Moon Mound." The haiku, however, is already known to us - it is the famous one about "the scenery just getting a bit like spring with plum and moon" - I found it already in the Hyakkaen Garden. According to a new book, Ishi ni Kizamareta Basho ("Basho Engraved in Stone") by Hironaka Takashi (Tomo Shobo, 2007), there are 97 stones bearing this popular haiku in Japan, of which 7 in Tokyo alone. The temple also used to be a place where haiku and tea fans met in the past and looking through the gate at the quiet grounds, one can easily imagine that. Here the bustle of Aoyama is far indeed. It is a good idea to leave this temple alone.

Ryugonji