Tuesday, 13 October 2020

Of Blackened Teeth: Japanese Traditional Beauty

Speaking of Old Japan, I’m sure some of you may have heard of blackened teeth being a traditional sign of beauty in Japan. It was, and can still be seen sometimes (though only for reënactment purposes as far as I know)

Called ohaguro[1] (お歯黒), it started around the 8th century and continued up until fairly recently, only starting to fade after the Japanese government banned the practice in 1870 in an effort to modernize the country[2].

【Note: I’ve since written a full essay on ohaguro (tooth blackening in Japan). You can read it here.】

It may look strange and distasteful to us today, but how will some of our fashions today look to people in a few hundred years? At any rate, it did have benefits beyond those of fashion. It is thought to have strengthened the teeth and protected them from cavities and other gum diseases.

Follow the following link for more details on the practice, as well as a brief look at a yokai who still practices the art.

LINK: The Allure of Blackened Teeth

[Last updated: 8 Sep 2025]

  1. oh-hah-goo-roh See: Pronunciation of Japanese  ↩

  2. Which itself was primarily motivated by an attempt to avoid being colonized.  ↩

A Satire of Old Japanese Aesthetics

Japanese artist and composer Meitei has released a new album, named Kofū. It is a really interesting take on traditional Japanese sounds.

As he puts it:

‘Kofū’ allows full immersion into fragments of the past without the trappings of nostalgia.

A sample:

Lots of experimentation, with hip-hop rhythms and samples from old Japanese music, ambient sounds, vocal samples from old Japan, ephemeral piano chords. Sounds like an odd combination of things, but it works. Recommended.

LINK: Kofū

Saturday, 10 October 2020

Going Home

There is an old Chinese poem. It goes:

少小离家老大回，乡音无改鬓毛衰
儿童相见不相识，笑问客从何处来。

I left home young, now old, I return care free, My tongue unchanged, my hair now thinner be.

Unknown I am to the boys and girls I meet, Smiling they ask, “Sir, from whence come thee?”

Presumably this bicycling salaryman hasn’t been away at the office quite that long, but then again, knowing Japanese office demands, I wouldn’t be surprised…

But rather than Chinese poetry, maybe he has a simplier tune echoing in his head

Heigh-ho, Heigh-ho
It’s home from work I go

Although bicycle usage perhaps isn’t as high as the stereotype, it still is a pretty common way to get around, even for businessmen. The idea of seeing a businessman in a nice suit and tie on a bicycle might seem somewhat comical (or sad1) in the States, but it is a common enough occurrence as to be normal in Japan2.

  1. One is reminded of the Margaret Thatcher quote, “Anyone who rides the bus after 25 is a failure.” A harsh opinion from the Iron Lady. It doesn’t seem farfetched to think she may have extended that quote to riding a bicycle to work.  ↩

  2. Nested in the bicycle basket was his briefcase. As in the US, hard briefcases went out of fashion a couple decades (or more) ago, but you still see them occasionally, especially with older folks. The type of bicycle he was riding—and the most common type you will see in Japan—is casually referred to as a mamachari (ママチャリ, literally “mom’s bike”). Despite the name, everyone uses them. They aren’t stylish, but they are solidly constructed and work well.  ↩

Friday, 2 October 2020

Once Upon a Time in the East

Welcome to Rokusho Shrine (六所神社), the beautiful family shrine of Tokugawa Ieyasu. Or at least the entrance to it.

Once upon a time in the East, a man named Tokugawa Ieyasu was a pretty big deal. He would go on to conquer Japan in 1600 and be declared shōgun in 1603, and his family would continue to rule the country until 1868 when the emperor took charge again1.

Long before he rose to that height, however, he was known as Matsudaira Takechiyo, and he was born in Okazaki Castle, in Mikawa, near Nagoya. The shrine in the photo was his family shrine.

Because of that connection, after he became shōgun, this shrine became much more popular. The Tokugawa government protected it and fixed it up, renovating the buildings in the shrine complex and adding more. Only the most powerful regional lords were allowed to actually enter the shrine. All others had to be content to simply look at it and pray from the outside.2

This gate in the photo is a great example of a rōmon gate, which is common at the entrances to larger or more important shrines. Rōmon gates are two storied gates, but the second story is often sealed and not accessible. The shrine itself is still popular these days, mostly with pregnant women, as a visit here is suppose to bless them with an easy childbirth and gives them hope that their own child will grow to be as successful as Ieyasu.3

  1. This would be the Emperor Meiji, grandfather to Hirohito (Emperor Shōwa), and he was only a young man when this event went down so it is debatable how much say he had in things, at least in the beginning. The emperors of Japan have mostly been puppets since ancient times, so he would go on to be the first Japanese emperor in many centuries to actually hold some degree of power.  ↩

  2. Only lords whose domains produced more than 50,000 koku of rice were allowed to enter. 1 koku (石) is roughly equal to 5 bushels, approximately 180 liters, which was considered enough to feed one person for a year. Koku of rice produced was basically the measure of power in pre-modern Japan. 50,000 koku would have been equal to about 9,019,534 liters or 255,953 bushels. That’s a lot of rice.  ↩

  3. And, perhaps, also conquer Japan someday.  ↩

Wednesday, 30 September 2020

Star Wars Groove

Just when you thought you’d heard every variation of the Star Wars theme, here is a groovy 1978 remix of the Star Wars soundtrack from Osamu Shoji. Shoji was best known for his Jazz/Synth fusion anime records, and this follows suit. It’s weird, but delightful.

There is more in the archives