Haiku in the Streets of Matsuyama
Over ninety boxes stand in the streets for posting haiku - literature installed as municipal infrastructure.
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12,708 entries / page 164 of 530
Over ninety boxes stand in the streets for posting haiku - literature installed as municipal infrastructure.
Citrus terraces cover the island's slopes; Toyo Ito has worked here on tying farming back to architecture.
On winter mornings a river fog pours down to the sea; the river changes character with the season.
The southern temples lie deep in the hills, where the paved pilgrim road and its distance markers survive longest.
Among Japan's major Chagall holdings, in a building faced with local plaster and tile, and fitted with a Noh stage.
The photographer whose images of Katsura changed how Japanese architecture is seen; all 34,000 of his works came here.
On a headland with galleries cantilevered over the Pacific, holding letters whose handwriting breaks into something like drawing.
On the Chosokabe clan's castle site, covering medieval Tosa and the province's folk material.
For two nights a year the screens are set out along the shopfronts and lit only by candles - as they were meant to be seen.
Its tengujo is the thinnest handmade paper in the world - 0.03 mm - and is used to conserve artworks globally.
On the river that made the paper, following the process from bark to the thinnest sheet in the world.
Forged without templates, each blade shaped to its order - a trade built on hatchets and sickles for mountain work.
For the creator of Anpanman, who found his great subject in his mid-fifties, and who was also a poet.
No dam on the main course, so the meanders remain; bridges and villages are all placed on the assumption of flood.
Six Kuma buildings in a mountain village of three thousand, each designed outward from locally sourced cedar and thatch.
Local cedar split thin and hung from the ceiling like falling timber; shoes come off, and readers lie on the floor.
Giverny recreated in a mountain valley with the foundation's blessing - and here the blue water lilies Monet never got actually bloom.
A landowner taught himself clockmaking by taking one apart, then built this tower - gears and all - by hand.
Rows of little tile eaves are set partway up the walls to shed typhoon rain - a climate detail that became the elevation.
Begun as a domain industry, and still turning out the same everyday jars and bowls.
Each earthquake lifts the coast a little more, leaving terraces - a global geopark where the ground's movement is legible.
Where Kukai trained in a cave, and from whose opening - sky and sea only - he is said to have taken his name.
Sandstone eaten by wind and wave into honeycombs and marbled surfaces - a shoreline carved by weather.