Friday, Sept 12.
On my third day in Kagoshima, I finally made it to the Shôkoshûseikan. Putting all that nonsense with Kagoshima Station, and with the station staff telling me there was no way to get out there except by taxi, I found out about the CityView bus, and just took that. It’s a tourist bus, to be sure, but it operates much like a regular public bus – wait at the bus stop, get on, pay the right amount (I think it was less than 200 yen) when you get off. Simple as that. No reservations or tour package membership needed. And it lets off right in front of Shôkoshûseikan.
I had noticed in the last few minutes of the bus ride a few smaller sites – monuments and the like – which I wanted to check out, so I put the whole Shôkoshûseikan compound on hold for a bit, and walked back down. There I found the Isoijinkan (Iso Foreigners’ Hall), a major famous Meiji piece of architecture which also serves as the setting for the only kabuki play of which I’m aware that has anything to do with Ryukyu. Sadly, it’s a postwar play, not an Edo period one, so it’s not really something that falls within my typical purview of study. Or, rather, I should say, of course I could go and analyze it or whatever if I so chose, but it won’t reveal anything about Edo period views or attitudes.
Anyway, it’s a gorgeous and very Meiji-looking building, which was used as housing for British & other foreign engineers. I wish we had more structures like it still in use. Two other Western-style wooden buildings located just down the street, which look like they would be right at home in old 19th century California, house other galleries and such; one is a glass studio. Later in the day, I glimpsed people working with the furnaces, and blowing glass, but I never did end up making it back over there to check it out any more closely. The other of the two buildings was originally built as an office managing the Shimazu clan’s gold mines, but I’m not positive what it’s used for today. Other monuments included one for Satsuma’s first Western-style shipyard, and of its first industrial spinning mill (today the site of a 7-11).
I then returned to Sengan’en, the large gardens adjoining the Shôkoshûseikan, and home to the lord of Satsuma’s secondary residence, the so-called Iso Palace. In the Meiji period, after the castle was taken over by the central government, the samurai class abolished, and the daimyo (lord) re-titled, re-situated into the new aristocracy, this became his primary residence. By that time, the palace was already surrounded by – i.e. the gardens were already filled with – industrial foundries, power plants, and the like. Today, the Shôkoshûseikan is just two museum buildings, but originally, back in the Bakumatsu & Meiji period, all of this would have been one large complex, with the lights (and other things?) at the palace being powered by a hydroelectric dam (!!) on-site, as early as 1892. ʻIolani Palace in Honolulu likes to boast having electricity (or is it phones?) before even Buckingham Palace or the White House, and this was only six years later than ʻIolani.
One aspect that’s particularly interesting about all of this is that the Shimazu began the process of developing these various technologies – steamships, reverbatory furnaces for forging cannon – before Japan “opened” to the world. This is something the Shôkoshûseikan museum exhibits will emphasize to you time and again. Whereas most of the rest of Japan’s modernization/industrialization in the 1850s-1860s (and later) was done with Western experts, Western equipment, etc. directly imported from Europe and the United States, this earliest (and rather successful & impressive) effort by the Shimazu was done chiefly from Western /books/ alone, with Satsuma scholars reading Western materials, looking at pictures, and using their own Japanese techniques and raw materials to attempt to construct these technologies. Though as I’ve said before I’m not too interested in being a Bakumatsu/Meiji Satsuma fanboy, one has to admit this is all pretty damn impressive. I wonder how unique it is. Were Chôshû, Mito, or others doing anything at all of the sort?
Of course, it’s not just industrial technology that was a major activity at the Shûseikan factory complex. It was here, in the mid-to-late 19th century, that Satsuma wares (ceramics) and kiriko glasswares were developed and produced. Satsuma can boast all they like about these great “traditional” art forms, but so far as I’m concerned, beautiful and impressive as they are in certain ways, inventions of the Bakumatsu and Meiji periods are generally not “traditional” in my book. Especially since kiriko glassware was only produced for a very short time in the Meiji period, and then went unpracticed for the better part of a century before being revived in the 1980s. I can just imagine someone in 1890 saying “look at these marvelous glasswares; we’ve been producing them in Satsuma ever since a few years ago; they’re a great long-lasting traditional famous craft product of our region,” or someone in 1930 or 1950 saying “remember those great glasswares we produced for just a few years in the 1880s? Yeah, they really symbolize and embody Satsuma culture, Satsuma identity.” Ha.
Anyway, the gardens are pretty extensive, including not only the former sites of quite a few industrial factories and the like, but also a lengthy hike up the mountain to see a great view of Sakurajima, and out over the port. A small exhibit discusses Jigen-ryû swordsmanship, of which Satsuma is oh-so-proud, and lets you try it out a bit yourself.
A tour of the palace itself (for an extra 600 yen, and incl. a very rushed/brief tea ceremony experience at the end) is quite nice, though no photos are allowed, and though the tour is only about 20 minutes. I might have preferred to walk around on my own, at my own pace, as at so many other historical houses. We are taught that Shimazu Tadayoshi, last lord of Satsuma, kept his topknot and much of his traditional or samurai-style practices, e.g. in terms of his clothing, and the furnishings of his residence, though we are also shown fairly lavish Western-style reception rooms, complete with elaborately carved European-style wooden dining room table and chairs, a chandelier made in England & powered by the nearby hydroelectric dam, Satsuma kiriko glassware, and a European set of “china” (serving set – plates, teacups, silverware).
One of the highlights for me, of course, was a small pavilion gifted to the lords of Satsuma by the king of Ryukyu. It’s a pretty plain-looking thing, just a small tile-roofed and stone-floored rest space, like that you would find in a Chinese garden. I wonder if it was originally more lavishly painted, perhaps in red and gold. Today, it looks quite plain, in unpainted wood. Still, it’s a neat thing to see. And for those who are interested in sites related to the great heroes of the Bakumatsu/Meiji, this exact pavilion was the site of a famous conversation between Katsu Kaishû and Shimazu Nariakira.
Unlike a lot of formerly waterfront sites which are now further inland, due to redevelopment (land reclamation) and/or natural sedimentation or whatever, Sengan’en remains quite close to the waterfront today, with just a single road, and set of train tracks, between the compound and the beach. It’s really something to think of the Shimazu lords, relaxing in their gardens, right on the sea.
Above: The main torii at Tsurugane Shrine, looking out over the water; you can see just how close Shôkoshûseikan and the Sengan’en gardens are to the water. Both compounds run right along the waterfront, with only (today) a single road, and a set of rails between the walls of the compound and the beach. Below: The innermost cloister, so to speak, of Tsurugane Shrine.
The Sengan’en / Shôkoshûseikan compound also includes a Shimazu family Shinto shrine, called Tsurugane Shrine, and the two buildings of the Shôkoshûseikan Museum proper. There’s some pretty incredible stuff in here, including mainly armor, weapons, and other objects belonging to the Shimazu lords, going all the way back to the Kamakura period, as well as letters & other documents associated with the Shimazu, portraits of them, and the like. The exhibits are pretty well-done too, looking very sleek and up-to-date in style. Sadly, here too no photos are allowed, so I was forced to simply take notes best as I could, rather than photographing the gallery labels and having their full text available to look over later. The exhibits begin with the pre-modern and early modern (that is, up until 1860s) history of Satsuma, with a particular focus on (1) Satsuma as semi-independent, doing its own thing politically and economically, and possessing its own distinctive culture, and (2) Satsuma as a maritime place; the phrase “Kaiyô kokka Satsuma” (Maritime State Satsuma) appears a number of times. Following this pre-modern / early modern portion, the remainder of the exhibits – the majority – focus on Satsuma’s industrialization efforts in the 1850s-1870s or so, at the Shûseikan itself in particular.
After my frustrations with the meager offerings at the Reimeikan museum shop bookstore, I had sort of pinned my hopes on the Shôkoshûseikan; sadly, they did not have any of those Reimeikan offerings, nor too many of their own catalogs, though they did have lots of other neat stuff. Lots of clear files (file folders) with neat designs – incl. family trees of the Shimazu and Tokugawa, and synopses of the Bakumatsu & Meiji periods. Cell phone straps in a variety of designs. Plenty of books about Bakumatsu & Meiji Satsuma. I picked up a cellphone strap of the Satsuma/Ryukyu five-pointed star official National Decoration that Satsuma gave out at the 1867 World’s Fair, where it boldly appeared with its own separate booth, to the consternation of the Tokugawa Shogunate, who was trying to represent Japan as a whole. (Incidentally, Hawaii had its own pavilion at the 1970 Osaka Expo, far on the other end of the grounds from the USA pavilion. But I’m not sure anyone thinks too much of it…)
I eventually asked one of the staff about the possibility of obtaining catalogs from previous exhibits, even though I figured that their non-appearance on the shelves most likely indicated they simply weren’t for sale. To my surprise, she came back from the back room with three catalogs, and when I asked whether they were for sale, she said that for someone (like me) with a genuine interest, I could have them for free! Bam. Sometimes it really doesn’t hurt to just ask!
I spent two more days in Kagoshima after that, but there’s not too much to say about those days, which were quite a bit more bara bara, as I just visited a lot of bookstores, did a little clothes shopping, got caught in the rain, poked around a few sites I hadn’t been to yet, went back to the Prefectural Library, and failed to get into the Kagoshima University Library, which is apparently closed both on weekends during the summer, and on national holidays (that Monday was Respect for the Elderly Day).
Right: Tagiruba, a small yatai bar at Kagomma Yatai-mura, specializing in buri, among other things.
Highlights of these last few days included the Museum of the Meiji Restoration – which does allow photos, thanks so much!, and which features some dramatic and not too cheesy video / animatronics shows about the period – and getting to spend my last dinner in Kagoshima at a tiny yatai bar eating actual local specialties and chatting with people. The whole thing may be really touristy, I don’t know, but at least at the bar I was sitting at, there seemed to be some regulars, close friends of the main guy behind the bar. For some reason, this whole month I’ve had trouble finding good places to eat, and have ended up more often than not at family restaurants, fast food places, and the like. But in Kagoshima, I did find one place with excellent tomato ramen, and this yatai, this was an excellent way to end my time in Kagoshima. It’s a small maze of something like fifteen (maybe more) little stalls, each with only about ten or fifteen seats, at most, and each offering different local specialties. Most of them served pork of one kind or another. One specialized in Amami Islands cuisine, which would have been really cool, but it was just too too crowded. In fact, they were all crowded, and it took me four or five times walking through, and almost giving up twice, before I finally found a seat at the one place I did end up at. And the food was excellent. Buri (yellowtail) sashimi, buri “fried fish” chunks with tartar sauce, cream cheese tofu (which is a lot better than it sounds – really delicious), and good drinks and conversation.
Thanks, Kagoshima! I had a blast. The next day, I was off to Okinawa.