Oshi Pilgrim Lodgings
Lodgings for Fuji pilgrims: long narrow plots running back from the road, with a channel drawn in for purification.
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Lodgings for Fuji pilgrims: long narrow plots running back from the road, with a channel drawn in for purification.
Paper for calligraphy, made since the 1500s and still varied sheet by sheet to control how ink bleeds.
A paper town that also makes fireworks - the shells are wound from paper, so the two trades grew together.
Shingen ruled from a square residence, not a castle - his saying that people are the castle, left in the ground.
Rather than sealing the river, the levee is deliberately gapped to let water escape - engineering doctrine as landscape.
Trellised vineyards covering the slopes, where Japanese winemaking began; Meiji brick cellars still stand.
In the same park as the art museum, showing manuscripts as much for the hand as for the text.
Eight springs fed by Fuji's groundwater, visited in sequence by pilgrims - belief mapped onto terrain.
The exact spots Hokusai and Hiroshige drew can still be stood on, and the compositions checked against the view.
Thin lustrous silk that sold in Edo for linings and umbrellas, woven in this valley.
A highland community founded by an American missionary, its timber lodge buildings still standing in the woods.
A railway at 1,375 metres, a single drawn line across the plateau that photographers return to.
Stone that weathers to rust-red, quarried for gardens; the craft includes choosing and setting it, not only cutting.
One of Japan's three great cherries: hollowed out and held up by props, standing as a form made by time.
From pseudo-Western schools to postwar modernism, Kofu keeps the layers of a provincial city's modernity.
A pilgrimage stop between two sacred mountains, its houses stepped up stone terraces on a steep slope.
A temple-gate trade in Buddhist implements, the beads turned and the tassels braided by separate hands.
Zen spread here under Takeda patronage, leaving medieval halls and images scattered across the province.
A jewellery quarter grown out of crystal carving, its cutting, setting and lapidary studios packed into the city.
A white granite peak worshipped as a body of the god, its climbing path punctuated by stone shrines.
A street aimed straight at Mt Fuji, its Showa shopfronts and the mountain falling into one frame.
The keep is gone; only the rough-stacked stone walls remain, rising in the middle of the modern city.
In this basin the roadside deity is not carved into a figure but is simply a rounded stone - a form found almost nowhere else.
Thirty kilometres of cliff formed by pyroclastic flow, with halls dug sideways into the rock face.