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【JR旭川駅、都市環境と自然のコントラスト】



 ひとりだけであちこち「探訪」主体の行脚を重ねるときは、高齢化とともに早寝早起きスタイルに適合でき、主目的に完全にアジャストする「寝られればどこでも」がわたしの選択基準。
 一方で夫婦での旅では、宿泊先選択はカミさんの専権事項。わたしはボーッとして従順に隷属。
 今回は旭川駅直結のAEONモールの上階のホテル選択でした。
 で、はじめて宿泊したのでそこにたどり着く「道順」はまったくわからなかった。とくに市の中心そのものの駅直結ということなのでそこに到達してからでなければ、事前では説明会話はほぼムダ。たぶん1回行ってみなければわからないのだろうなと思っていましたが、まさにその通り。逆に1回たどり着くとその便利性は、チョーわかりやすかった。体感と表現の乖離とでも言えるのかなぁ。
 で、この旭川の駅周辺環境自体はわたしは何度か来ていて、実感していたので、2日間とも早朝には、カミさんを連れ立って駅の南側の忠別川河畔の緑地帯を楽しく散策しておりました。
 駅の建物までの先端的な「都市」環境から一歩、忠別川側に出るとそこは一気に初源的な河川の流路が自然の活力を伝えてくる自然環境。なかなかにコントラストが効いていて楽しい環境。たぶん、安楽な都市環境からすぐに「スイッチ変換」できるスポットなのですね。やはりというか、案の定というか、都市景観賞を獲得しているようで、北海道民としては喜ばしいなぁと思っていました。
 21世紀の現代的な地方都市としての生き残り、生存戦略としてなかなか有効な環境作りかなぁと。
 しかしこれまでの「買い物公園通り」は、このAEONモールの利便性に太刀打ちするのは難しいようで、各店舗はけっこうシャッター街化していた。こういう現実はどうしても必然なのでしょうね。地域の生き残り戦略として、その象徴的な「街の変容」を感じさせられていました。
 そういった変化の過程ですが、しかし自然とすぐにアクセス出来る都市環境、というコンセプトはやはり北海道の都市が獲得しやすいポイントだと思える。北海道という地域がこれからも「自然」の魅力を最大化させながら生き延びて行くには、ひとつの象徴的事例かと感じておりました。
 しかしJR駅構内はイマイチ活用し切れていないようにも思えた。先日の札幌駅北口側通路にも感じた内容。都市環境の生き残り策、興味深いですね。

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[JR Asahikawa Station: The Contrast Between the Urban Environment and Nature]
The “survival” strategies of regional cities in Hokkaido are quite interesting. The interplay between the natural environment—where rivers in the north converge—and the convenience and urban character of the city is fascinating. …

 When I’m traveling alone on a series of trips focused on “exploring” various places, my choice is guided by the principle that “anywhere I can sleep is fine”—a philosophy that fits well with my aging body’s need for early to bed, early to rise routine and aligns perfectly with my main objective.
On the other hand, when traveling as a couple, choosing where to stay is entirely my wife’s domain. I just zone out and obediently go along with it.
This time, she chose a hotel on the upper floors of the AEON Mall, which is directly connected to Asahikawa Station.
 Since it was our first time staying there, I had absolutely no idea how to get there. Especially since it’s directly connected to the station—which is right in the heart of the city—any attempt to explain the route beforehand was practically pointless; it wouldn’t make sense until we actually arrived. I figured I’d probably have to go there once to figure it out, and that’s exactly how it turned out. On the flip side, once I actually made it there, the convenience of the location became crystal clear. I guess you could call it a disconnect between experience and description.
 Anyway, since I’d been to the area around Asahikawa Station several times before and was already familiar with it, both mornings I took my wife for a pleasant stroll along the greenbelt by the Chubetsu River on the south side of the station.
Just one step away from the cutting-edge “urban” environment of the station building, stepping out toward the Chubetsu River, you’re suddenly immersed in a natural setting where the river’s pristine course radiates the vitality of nature. It’s a delightful environment with quite a striking contrast. I suppose it’s the kind of spot where you can instantly “flip the switch” from a comfortable urban setting. As expected—or perhaps unsurprisingly—it seems to have won an Urban Landscape Award, which I found quite gratifying as a resident of Hokkaido.
 I think this kind of environmental design is quite effective as a survival strategy for a modern regional city in the 21st century.
 However, the former “Shopping Park Avenue” seems to have a hard time competing with the convenience of this AEON Mall, and many of the shops there had become shuttered. I suppose this reality is simply inevitable. As a survival strategy for the region, I could really sense that symbolic “transformation of the town.”
 Amid this process of change, I still believe that the concept of an urban environment offering immediate access to nature is an advantage that cities in Hokkaido are particularly well-suited to achieve. I felt this was a symbolic example of how the Hokkaido region can continue to survive while maximizing the appeal of its “nature.”
 However, it also seemed to me that the space inside the JR station wasn’t being fully utilized. I had a similar impression regarding the passageway on the north side of Sapporo Station the other day. Survival strategies for urban environments are truly fascinating.

● Announcement
My book, “Writers and Living Spaces,” has been published as an e-book by Gentosha.
Available on Amazon.
 

【倉本聰さんのご冥福祈願。富良野にて合掌】


 きのうは今回の旅路の最終目的の富良野へ。先般9/18に世を去られた倉本聰さんにお別れのご挨拶をしてきました。
 わたしは住宅雑誌発行者であった2011年前後に、2回ほど倉本聰さんに取材してインタビューを行っていました。1回は知友の住宅建築会社の「単行本」の対談企画のコーディネートとして、そしてもう1回は、わたし自身がインタビュアーになって、いわば「倉本聰の住宅体験論」をヒアリングしていたのです。
 この時期は、北海道からスタートした住宅雑誌の「関東版」発刊時期に当たっていて、インタビューは「関東版3号目」に掲載していた。しかし、その直後2011年3/11に東日本大震災が発生して、まったく行動制限が掛かってしまい、関東版は休止のやむなきに至り、また、東日本大震災で大きな被害を受けた東北地域の住宅再建施策の広報誌として「東北の住まい再生」というボランティア雑誌に注力していくことになっていた。
 そういう激動時期だったので、倉本聰さんとのご縁はそこで凍結された状態になっていた。
 人間の人生というものはオモシロいもので、その時点の激変で自分自身の、ある「志向性」は封印されて、ひたすら東北の震災復興に少しでも役立ちたいという出版事業取り組みに向かって行っていた。

 この写真は、Replan関東版2011/冬春号誌面に掲載された倉本さんとインタビュアーのわたしのツーショット。
 この掲載雑誌もいまはほぼ部数が限られてしまっている。
 そしてなおわたし自身も、今回の富良野訪問での「ごあいさつ」まで、こういう倉本聰さんとの住宅論議をまったく忘却しきってしまっていた(泣)。室外に置かれた遺影にご挨拶したとき、一陣の風に巻き上げられましたが「おお、あの話のつづき、どうするのよ?オレ住宅建築、好きだから、つづきをやれよ!」みたいな氏からの声掛けを感じた(笑)。
 このインタビュー時点で倉本聰さんは76歳ほどの年齢。会場は氏のご自宅にうかがってさせていただいていた。そして高齢期の自邸についてのキーポイントのようなお話も聞き込んでいたのです。
 稀有な現代の表現者としての氏とのやり取りの記録。そこをしっかり「掘り込んで」置くべきだと思っています。
 どうも今回の旅路は、世を去った人たちとの邂逅の機会だったのかも・・・。

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English version⬇

[Praying for the repose of Satoshi Kuramoto’s soul. Hands clasped in prayer in Furano]
“I love residential architecture, so hurry up and publish the next installment!” The voice of the late artist reached me on a gust of wind. It is the duty of the living…

 Yesterday, I traveled to Furano, the final destination of this trip. I went there to pay my respects to Satoshi Kuramoto, who passed away on September 18.
Around 2011, when I was the publisher of a home design magazine, I interviewed Satoshi Kuramoto on two occasions. On one occasion, I served as the coordinator for a dialogue feature in a “book” published by a housing construction company run by a friend; on the other, I acted as the interviewer myself, gathering his insights on what might be called “Satoshi Kuramoto’s Theory of Housing Experiences.”
 This period coincided with the launch of the “Kanto Edition” of the housing magazine, which had originated in Hokkaido, and the interview was published in the “Kanto Edition, Issue No. 3.” However, immediately afterward, on March 11, 2011, the Great East Japan Earthquake struck, imposing severe restrictions on movement. This left us with no choice but to suspend the Kanto Edition, and we shifted our focus to a volunteer-run magazine titled “Tohoku Housing Reconstruction,” which served as a public relations publication for housing reconstruction initiatives in the Tohoku region—an area that had suffered extensive damage from the earthquake.
 Given the turbulent nature of that period, my connection with Satoshi Kuramoto was effectively put on hold.
 Life is a curious thing; due to the drastic changes at that time, a certain “orientation” within me was put on hold, and I devoted myself entirely to publishing efforts aimed at contributing, even in a small way, to the reconstruction of Tohoku following the disaster.

 This photo is a two-shot of Mr. Kuramoto and me, the interviewer, that appeared in the Winter/Spring 2011 issue of Replan Kanto.
 Even this magazine is now available in very limited quantities.
 And I, for one, had completely forgotten about these discussions on housing with Satoshi Kuramoto—right up until my “greeting” during this visit to Furano (sob). When I paid my respects to his portrait placed outdoors, a gust of wind blew it away, but I felt as if he were calling out to me: “Hey, what are you going to do about the rest of that conversation? I love residential architecture, so let’s continue it!” (laughs).
 At the time of this interview, Satoshi Kuramoto was about 76 years old. The interview took place at his home, where I had the privilege of visiting. I also listened intently as he shared key insights about his own home during his later years.
 This is a record of my exchanges with him as a rare contemporary artist. I believe we should thoroughly “delve into” and preserve this record.
It seems this journey may have been an opportunity to encounter those who have passed away…

● Announcement
My book, *Writers and Living Spaces*, has been published as an e-book by Gentosha.
Available on Amazon.
 
 

【明治41年頃、祖父・林業挑戦の地「美深」へタイムトラベル】




 さて今回の道北旅でのわたし的目的地への「家系史時間差旅」扁であります。
 人間のいきる中では常に成功するばかりではない。さまざまな試行錯誤が当然に生起する。失敗から学ぶということは絶対に避けて通ることのできないことだろう。いやむしろ、その意図と、結果の事実から孫子の世代としては、貴重な「教訓」を学び取っていくことが、最大の「供養」になるのだと思う。
 祖父は「仏壇を背負って」家系の「当主」として、温暖な瀬戸内海に面した福山市周辺の故地から、1905(明治38)年に北海道に渡って来ている。次男三男層の多かった北海道開拓者たちとは違った「目的」を持って渡道してきている。
 当時の福山市松永周辺では、江戸期から続いていた「塩田」ビジネスによって大量の製塩用加熱木材資源が全国から、さらに海外からも尾道港を経由してもたらされていた。この木材集積に着目した履物商の丸山茂助(まるやま もすけ)は、それまで桐材しか使われていなかった下駄の素材として「どんな樹種でも使う」という生産革命・機械化ビジネスで脚光を浴びていた。全国の下駄の6割以上を生産するビッグビジネスに成長させていたのだ。
 そういう「地元経済」の動向を踏まえて、当時開拓入植が進んでいた北海道の最北部の山林資源に注目して、地域の物流の主力である河川としての天塩川を流下させて天塩の港から環日本海交易路に材を乗せて、地元・福山市松永に下駄の原材料を供給しようと企図したと考えられるのだ。
 いまでも美深の面積で86%が山林であり、そして天塩川は地域の大動脈として流れている。
 故地・福山周辺で伯父の一統が「時安」という山林資源の豊富な山間地域経済に関わって生活していた縁を頼って、地域の山林ビジネスを覚え込み、それをもって道北・美深の地にチャレンジをしたワケだ。
 ビジネスとしての企図、事業構想には十分な合理性があったように思える。
 一方で、ではどうしてそれが失敗してしまったのか、具体的なプロセスを解明することが、子孫としては絶対に大きな教訓になっていくと思えるのだ。
 ・・・ということでの、解明の思索、多くの「現場体験」的に直感的な手掛かりが得られた。
 その地理空間性が、非常に多くの「証言」を伝えてきてくれると実感させられた次第。思考を熟成させたいと深く思い至らされる。写真は手掛かり群・・・。

●お知らせ
拙書「作家と住空間」幻冬舎から電子書籍で発刊
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English version⬇

[Around Meiji 41: A Journey Back in Time to “Bifuka,” Where My Grandfather Took on the Challenge of Forestry]
By confronting my grandfather’s unfulfilled legacy, this experience conveys profound lessons to future generations from that very place and time. The deep meaning of time travel…

 Now, this post is about my “time-shifted family history journey” to my personal destination during this trip to Northern Hokkaido.
Life isn’t always a series of successes. It’s only natural to go through various trials and errors. Learning from failure is something we absolutely cannot avoid. In fact, I believe that for us, the descendants, the greatest way to honor our ancestors is to draw valuable “lessons” from their intentions and the actual outcomes of their actions.
 My grandfather, “carrying the family altar on his back” as the “head of the family,” crossed over to Hokkaido in 1905 (Meiji 38) from his ancestral home near Fukuyama City, which faces the warm Seto Inland Sea. He came to Hokkaido with a “purpose” distinct from that of the many second and third sons who were among the Hokkaido pioneers.
 At that time, in the Matsunaga area of Fukuyama City, the “salt field” business—which had continued since the Edo period—brought in vast quantities of firewood for salt production from all over Japan and even from overseas via the Port of Onomichi. Mosuke Maruyama, a footwear merchant who recognized this concentration of timber, gained prominence through a production revolution and mechanization initiative that involved “using any tree species” as material for geta—a type of wooden sandal that had previously been made exclusively from paulownia wood. He grew this into a major business that produced more than 60 percent of the nation’s geta.
 Given these trends in the “local economy,” it is believed that he turned his attention to the forest resources in the northernmost part of Hokkaido—where settlement and development were progressing at the time—and devised a plan to transport the timber down the Teshio River, the region’s main logistics artery, to the port of Teshio. From there, the timber would be shipped along the Sea of Japan trade route to supply raw materials for geta production in his hometown of Matsunaga, Fukuyama City.
 Even today, 86 percent of Bifuka’s land area consists of forests, and the Teshio River continues to flow as the region’s lifeline.
Relying on the connection that his uncle’s family had established in his hometown of Fukuyama—where they were involved in the economy of a mountainous region rich in forest resources known as “Tokiyasu”—he learned the ins and outs of the local forestry business and used that knowledge to take on the challenge of settling in Bifuka, in northern Hokkaido.
 It seems his business plans and vision were entirely reasonable.
On the other hand, as a descendant, I believe that uncovering the specific process of why it ultimately failed will undoubtedly serve as a major lesson.
 …With that in mind, as I reflected on this quest for understanding, I gained many intuitive clues through “hands-on experience.”
 I came to realize that this geographical context has provided a wealth of “testimonies.” It has deeply inspired me to let my thoughts mature further. The photos represent a collection of these clues…

● Announcement
My book, *Writers and Living Spaces*, has been published as an e-book by Gentosha.
Available on Amazon.

【いけね! データHDD忘れもの。旅の恥は〜】



 昨日書いたように、10/12早朝から札幌を出て、旅路についております。
 宿泊は旭川の街の中のホテルなのですが、わたしたち夫婦の「数寄」で、北海道内でも屈指の思い出の風景地・三国峠を目指したのです。昨日の総走行距離は450kmほどという長距離運転旅。
 しかしそれでも、1日の「歩数」はわたしは10,000歩を超えカミさんも15,000くらいになっていた。(これは旭川到着後、便利な立地なので買い物行脚しすぎ(笑)の結果。)
 写真は、三国峠からのビューであります。ことしはすっかり紅葉は終わってしまっていましたが、相変わらずの巨視ビューポイントぶり。また、十勝の方からだんだんと上がっていく高度の途次にもたくさんのビューポイントがあるのです。毎年来ているのですが、昨年まではそれほどインバウンド系のみなさんは見かけなかったのですが、さすがにことしはたくさんのアジア系・欧米系のみなさんの姿が見られました。
 日本の観光資源が調べ尽くされて、円安環境のもと、こういう秘境ポイントも注目されてきている。
 で、わたしは久しぶりの長距離運転。どうかなぁと一抹の気がかりもあったのですが最終のホテルまでしっかりと安全運転を継続することができておりました(どやぁ)。まぁ加齢と共に安全運転度が向上して、ほぼ制限速度以内に留まって、後続車が「急ぎ気味」の場合には、適当な停車ポイントを見つけては駐車灯を点灯させて、大いに追い越し・パスをお願いしたりしての運転であります。
 ドライブ心理としては、せっかくの自然環境を愛でるのに、ゆっくり楽しみたいというもの。
 高齢者らしく「ながくお世話になっている自然環境に感謝」という思い一択なのでしょうか。
 ということで、夫婦で楽しく語らいつつ、ホテルにたどりついたのですが、そこでMacの周辺環境、ほとんどのデータ類が入っている外部HDDを忘れていたことに気付いてしまった(泣)。ありゃりゃ。
 執筆中のデータもない。う〜むであります。運転は順調だったけれどもの忘れという「加齢現象」が順調に(笑)襲ってきてしまった。
 旅の恥、でありますが「書き捨て」はせず、「毎日更新」はしっかり継続して、執筆は日延べして準備作業を重ねたいと思います。予定は2泊3日。どうぞよろしく。
 

●お知らせ
拙書「作家と住空間」幻冬舎から電子書籍で発刊
お求めはAmazonで。
https://amzn.asia/d/eUiv9yO

English version⬇

[Oops! I left my data HDD behind. Better to be safe than sorry…]
I was so focused on getting ready for the long drive that I accidentally left something behind in my PC workspace. Oh well. I’ll just make the best of it and have a fun, meaningful trip within the limits of what I can do…

 As I wrote yesterday, we left Sapporo early in the morning on October 12 and are currently on our journey.
 Although we’re staying at a hotel in downtown Asahikawa, my wife and I—driven by our shared passion—set out for Mikuni Pass, one of Hokkaido’s most memorable scenic spots. Yesterday’s total driving distance was about 450 km—a long road trip.
 Even so, my “step count” for the day exceeded 10,000, and my wife’s was around 15,000. (This was the result of us going on too many shopping sprees after arriving in Asahikawa, thanks to its convenient location (lol).)
 The photo shows the view from Mikuni Pass. Although the autumn foliage had completely faded this year, it still offered its usual spectacular panoramic view. There are also plenty of scenic viewpoints along the route as you gradually climb in elevation from the Tokachi region. I’ve been coming here every year, and while I didn’t see many international tourists until last year, this year I definitely noticed a lot of Asian and Western visitors.
 With Japan’s tourist attractions having been thoroughly explored and the yen remaining weak, even these hidden gems are starting to attract attention.
 As for me, it had been a while since I’d driven such a long distance. I had a slight worry about how it would go, but I managed to drive safely all the way to our final hotel (take that!). Well, as I’ve gotten older, my safe driving habits have improved—I mostly stay within the speed limit, and when the car behind me seems “in a hurry,” I find a suitable spot to pull over, turn on my parking lights, and politely ask them to go ahead and pass.
 Psychologically speaking, when driving, I want to take my time and enjoy the natural surroundings—after all, it’s a rare treat.
 Perhaps, as befits an older person, my sole motivation is simply “gratitude for the natural environment that has sustained me for so long.”
 So, my wife and I arrived at the hotel while enjoying a pleasant chat, only to realize I’d forgotten my Mac accessories—specifically, the external hard drive containing almost all my data (sob). Oh no.
 I don’t even have the data I’m currently working on. Hmm… The drive went smoothly, but the “signs of aging”—like forgetfulness—are steadily (lol) catching up with me.
 It’s a bit embarrassing to admit while traveling, but I won’t just “throw this away”; I’ll keep up with my “daily updates” and postpone the actual writing while I focus on preparation work. The plan is two nights and three days. Thank you for your support.
 

● Announcement
My book, “Writers and Living Spaces,” has been published as an e-book by Gentosha.
Available on Amazon.

【深まる紅葉、北海道の今年をみる旅路へ】



 だんだんと世間の暦とズレてくる高齢者。ありがたいことと感謝です。
 まだ仕事の流れ自体は継続性があるとは言え、おおむねスケジュールは自分で決められる。そのメリットを活かして連休をずらし、本日から道内の「観葉」旅であります。あ、自分で決めると書きましたが、これはまったくカミさんの決定に従順に従っているだけなので、やや書きすぎかも(笑)。
 わたしたち昭和20年代後期の年代の健康状態は、それまでの日本人平均からは劇的に栄養状態が改善したので、いま70代半ばですが、毎日10,000歩越えの散歩をこなせるほど。
 前期高齢者と後期高齢者という概念が行き渡ったのは、アメリカでの実勢が基礎となって日本にも反映したといわれる。自分自身がその年齢層に到達してきてやはり強く実感できます。まだ「前期」。
 また、わたしは兄弟(姉も)6人なのですが、全員まだまだ元気であります。わたしは末っ子ですが、長兄は11才上でも毎日元気に散歩して、ゴルフも楽しんでいるとのこと。どうやら、健康長寿が日本人に広範に現実化してきているのでしょう。
 そうなってくると、社会システムも対応して変化していくことが予想されますが、それはまだ手探りで、現実が積み重ねられてきているというところ。考えて見ると、これこそが日本の再成長の根源的な「資産」なのではないかと思えます。どう活かされるか?
 もっといえば、わたしたち年代はそういう「フロンティア」に位置していて、高齢化・健康長寿世代がどう社会に貢献できるかの実験的世代なのかと。しかしそうはいっても、直接的生産活動的「体力」までは計算できないので、より「文化」的な領域開発になっていくのでしょう。
 まぁまだまだ新規領域の開発が可能で、オモシロい人生模様かなぁ(笑)。
 ということで、新鮮な目線で北海道の魅力を再探訪していきたいと思います。
 写真は朝の散歩路「西野緑道」スポットがみごとな黄葉ぶりを見せてくれた様子と、わが家近くに遡上して産卵行動に入ったサケの様子です。さて、旅路ではどんな秋が目の前に広がってくれるかなぁ?

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English version⬇

[As the Fall Foliage Deepens: A Journey to See What This Year Holds for Hokkaido]
Taking advantage of the “long weekend” at a slightly different time than most. How can the generation that has achieved greater health and longevity contribute to society? They may hold the key to Japan’s “renewed growth.” …

 As I get older, I find myself gradually falling out of sync with the general public’s calendar. I’m truly grateful for that.
 While my work itself still has a certain degree of continuity, I’m generally free to set my own schedule. Taking advantage of that, I’ve shifted my long weekend and am embarking today on a “houseplant-viewing” trip around Hokkaido. Oh, I wrote that I set my own schedule, but since I’m actually just obediently following my wife’s decisions, I might have exaggerated a bit (laughs).
 For those of us born in the late Showa 20s, our health has improved dramatically compared to the average Japanese person of that era, thanks to better nutrition. So even though we’re now in our mid-70s, we’re still able to manage daily walks of over 10,000 steps. It’s said that the concepts of “early-stage seniors” and “late-stage seniors” became widespread in Japan because they were based on actual conditions in the United States.
 Now that I’ve reached that age group myself, I can truly feel it. Also, I have six siblings (including an older sister), and all of us are still going strong. I’m the youngest, but my eldest brother—who is 11 years older than me—still goes for brisk walks every day and enjoys playing golf. It seems that healthy longevity is becoming a reality for the Japanese people.
 As this happens, we can expect social systems to adapt and change accordingly, but this likely means we’re feeling our way forward as reality unfolds step by step. When I think about it, I believe that this is precisely the fundamental “asset” driving Japan’s renewed growth. How will it be put to use?
 To put it another way, our generation is positioned on that “frontier”—we’re the experimental generation that will explore how the aging, healthy, and long-lived can contribute to society. That said, since we can’t rely on the “physical strength” required for direct productive work, our contributions will likely shift toward developing more “cultural” domains.
 Well, there’s still plenty of room for development, so I suppose it’ll be an interesting chapter in life (laughs).
 With that in mind, I’d like to rediscover the charms of Hokkaido through fresh eyes.
 The photos show the stunning autumn foliage along the “Nishino Greenway”—a spot on my morning walking route—and salmon that have migrated upstream near my home to begin spawning. I wonder what kind of autumn scenery will unfold before me on my travels?

● Announcement
My book, “Writers and Living Spaces,” has been published as an e-book by Gentosha.
Available on Amazon.

 
 

【タコとんび・ニシンを楽しく包丁&手捌き】



 わが家近くの河原で毎日のようにサケの産卵・次世代への引継の神聖ないのちの絶唱をみつめていると、買い物で入手するさまざまな魚類のことが心理に深く「入ってくる」。
 先日も、産卵を終わったと思えるメスのサケが体力をすべて使い切って、水深のほとんどない河原で横たわっている様子を凝視していて、思わず「その最期は謹んで食す」のが、最善の「供養」と思えていました。さすがにそれは自重して自然のままに放置していました。そのような魚類のいのちの「いとなみ」を見ると、さらに鮮魚店で購入する魚類にも感情移入する。いや、思わさる(北海道弁)。
 写真はタコの口(くちばし)の周辺の筋肉の「タコとんび」と捌いたニシン。
 タコとんびはタコの中にある黒く硬いくちばし(あご)の形が、鳥の「トンビ」のくちばしに似ていることからこのように呼ばれるようになったもの。タコ1匹から1つしか取れないため、貴重な珍味とされる。カニの甲羅を砕くほどタコが日常的に使っている筋肉のため、非常にコリコリとした弾力があり、噛むほどに旨味が出てくるヤツ。余市の鮮魚店ではじめて購入して以来、ご近所の食品店でも目にして、ちょこちょこ、家庭料理メニューから途切れないように購入しています。わたしの場合は、塩ゆでして冷ませてから、黒い「くちばし」を手で外して身だけにしてほぼ1口大に切り分け、酢醤油などで味付けして食します。1日に食べるのはほんの2−3切れ程度ですが、楽しくて欠かせない一品。いつも購入している店舗では、非常にお手頃価格で、10コ程で300円程度と庶民的。
 一方は北海道の地サカナとも思えるニシン。ナマのニシンを捌くのですが、もうすっかり定番捌きになっていて、非常に楽しい。通常は3匹で300円程度。3枚におろして冷凍させておいて、焼いて食します。こちらもわたしはほんの少々、写真の1枚の1/5程度で十分。しかし、息子や嫁さんたちは、モリモリと1枚食べきったりする(笑)。若さは素晴らしい。
 焼き魚にすると、その独特の味わい、風味が北海道ネイティブなマインドを刺激してくれる。今回のヤツは超大型で4匹で800円。しかも1匹はメスで数の子入り。捌いているとそういう楽しみも満喫できる。
 高齢期のたのしみ、日々のサカナ捌きのご紹介でした。

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English version⬇

[Fun Ways to Prepare Octopus and Herring with a Knife and by Hand]
As I enter my golden years, working with a knife has become my “ultimate joy.” I’m deeply grateful to these fish—which brighten up my daily life at such an affordable price (laughs). …

 When I watch the salmon spawning near the riverbank close to my home—that sacred, final chorus of life as they pass the torch to the next generation—almost every day, the various kinds of fish I buy at the store really “sink in” deep within me.
 Just the other day, as I gazed intently at a female salmon—who appeared to have finished spawning—lying on the riverbank in water that was barely deep enough, having completely exhausted her strength, I couldn’t help but feel that “respectfully eating her at the end of her life” would be the best way to “honor her memory.” Of course, I refrained from doing so and left her to rest in peace. When I witness such “struggles” for life in fish, I find myself empathizing even more with the fish I buy at the fish market. Or rather, it makes me feel that way (in Hokkaido dialect).
The photo shows “takotobi”—the muscles around an octopus’s beak—and a filleted herring.
Takotobi got its name because the shape of the black, hard beak (jaw) inside the octopus resembles the beak of a “tonbi” (kite). Since only one can be extracted from each octopus, it’s considered a rare delicacy. Because it’s a muscle the octopus uses daily—even to crush crab shells—it has a very crunchy, springy texture, and the more you chew it, the more umami flavor comes out. Ever since I first bought it at a fish market in Yoichi, I’ve spotted it at neighborhood grocery stores too, so I buy it here and there to make sure it never goes missing from our home cooking menu. Personally, I boil them in salted water, let them cool, then remove the black “beak” by hand to separate the meat. I cut the meat into bite-sized pieces and season it with soy sauce and vinegar before eating. I only eat about two or three pieces a day, but it’s a delightful and indispensable dish. At the shop where I usually buy them, they’re very affordable—about 300 yen for 10 pieces—making them a true everyday treat.
 On the other hand, there’s herring, which I consider a true Hokkaido local fish. I fillet raw herring, and it’s become such a routine task that I really enjoy it. Usually, three fish cost about 300 yen. I fillet them into three pieces, freeze them, and then grill them to eat. I only need a tiny bit of this—about one-fifth of the fillet shown in the photo is plenty for me. However, my son and daughter-in-law wolf down an entire fillet (laughs). Youth is wonderful.
 When grilled, its unique taste and aroma really appeal to the Hokkaido soul. The ones I got this time were extra-large—four for 800 yen. What’s more, one was a female with roe. Preparing them lets me fully enjoy that kind of little pleasure, too.
That was my introduction to the joys of old age: preparing fish every day.

● Announcement
My book, “Writers and Living Spaces,” has been published as an e-book by Gentosha.
Available on Amazon.
 
 

【宮城県産ひとめぼれ「新米」を研ぎ、ほおばる】



 9月中に受け取っていた今年度産の新米ひとめぼれ。毎回60kgを1回に宮城県の農家から送ってもらっているのですが、ようやく昨年産のお米が一段落したので、今週から食しはじめております。 うまい。
 農家の方からは「今年は昨年のような高温障害無くて美味しいです」という情報。
 いや、昨年米も十分楽しませていただいていましたが、専門家としてはそういう「変動」もあったようです。
 農家の方から「直売」で購入させていただくと、当然コミュニケーションがそこに発生して、いろいろな「思い」が伝わってきて、毎日の食事に「こころ」が波動してくる。いかにも人間が精魂込めた「いのち」のようなものが感じさせられるのですね、とくに「主食」なので。
 毎日の食事作りでごはんについては、調理担当はわたし。
 計量して、米とぎして炊飯器で炊き上げるプロセスは「日課」になっていて、深く沁みる部分。
 米とぎして、1粒1粒の手ざわりから感じられるものがあって、それが心底に残ってくるのですね。ほんのちょっとした拍子に1粒程度米粒が行方不明になったりすることがあっても、丹念に「捜索」して拾い上げている。こういうのは日本人の特有の心理なのではないかといつも思わされる。
 こういう米粒1粒へのこだわりって、生産者との「語らい」の1つの表現なのでしょうね。自分的には、そういう主食へのリスペクトこそが日本人の基層心理だと思っている部分。
 米とぎするとそのコメから白濁した洗浄水が発生するけれど、その水の「白さ」にもある心理投影がある。
 清廉潔白というコトバがあるけれど、やはり日本人の心底の「白さ」には、このコメのとぎ汁の白さが、アナロジーされているようにも思われます。
 欧米の人びとは、麦類からパンを生成させるとき、どう「思う」のかなぁと想像が羽ばたく。きっと、日本人とコメと相似したような心理があるのでしょうね。主食へのリスペクト文化。
 毎日、出張時以外、こういう時間を持てていることに感謝しております。

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English version⬇

[Rinsing and Savoring “New Harvest” Hitomebore Rice from Miyagi Prefecture]
From rinsing the new harvest rice—observing the whiteness of the rinse water, savoring the texture of each grain—to finally taking a bite. A “conversation” with one’s staple food. The Japanese people. …

 I received this year’s crop of Hitomebore rice in September. I usually have a farmer in Miyagi Prefecture send me 60 kg at a time, and now that I’ve finally finished eating last year’s rice, I’ve started enjoying this new batch this week. It’s delicious.
The farmer told me, “This year’s crop is delicious because we didn’t have the high-temperature damage we had last year.”
Well, I certainly enjoyed last year’s rice as well, but as an expert, it seems there were such “fluctuations.”
 When I purchase directly from the farmer, communication naturally arises, and I receive all sorts of “thoughts” and “feelings” that infuse my daily meals with a sense of “heart.” I can truly feel the “life” that the farmer has poured their heart and soul into it—especially since it’s our “staple food.”
When it comes to preparing our daily meals, I’m in charge of cooking the rice.
 The process of measuring, rinsing, and cooking the rice in the rice cooker has become a “daily routine,” and it’s something that touches me deeply.
 When I rinse the rice, I feel something through the texture of each individual grain, and that feeling stays with me deep in my heart. Even if a single grain goes missing by accident, I meticulously “search” for it and pick it up. I’m always reminded that this might be a mindset unique to the Japanese.
 This attention to even a single grain of rice is likely one expression of our “conversation” with the farmers. Personally, I believe that this respect for our staple food is the very foundation of the Japanese psyche.
 When you rinse rice, a milky-white washing water is produced, and there is a psychological projection in the “whiteness” of that water as well.
 There is a phrase meaning “purity and integrity,” and it seems to me that the “whiteness” deep within the Japanese heart is analogous to the whiteness of this rice-rinsing water.
 My imagination runs wild as I wonder what people in the West “think” when they make bread from grains. Surely, they must have a mindset similar to that of the Japanese and rice—a culture of respect for staple foods.
 I am grateful that I am able to have moments like this every day, except when I’m away on business trips.

● Announcement
My book, “Writers and Living Spaces,” has been published as an e-book by Gentosha.
Available on Amazon.
 

【過去への探究旅に「迷宮」地下空間出現(笑)】


 わたしはいま、家系史での江戸期〜明治以降に生きた祖先の「生き様」を追っています。
 知れば知るほど波瀾万丈、時代の「うねり」に翻弄されながら必死に生きてきた実相が明滅してくる。その時空間旅を継続中。その活動では「法務局」などでの不動産の推移確認が重要な根拠事実を提供してくれる。写真は、札幌の法務局への道筋、地下鉄札幌駅を下り繁華なJR札幌駅南口側から「北口」側の法務局まで広大な「地下空間」。建築的にもオモシロい現代都市の地下に出現した異空間。
 ちょうど住宅建築関係でながく関わった「新住協」全国大会が札幌で開かれていた日程だったのですが、こうした調査活動に没頭していて、うっかり失念。ふっと気付いて「あれま」と思ったのですが、まぁ後の祭り。昨日、上階に事務所同居しているReplan発行元の札促社スタッフに様子を尋ねたら「あ、鎌田先生から三木さんどうしてる?元気?」と声掛けされたとの報告。「あ、やべ」でありますが、まぁ仕方ない。
 事業譲渡した人間は、あまり騒音にならないように静かにしているべきと考えます。
 で、前述のそうした調査活動の甲斐があって、江戸後期から明治期までのわが家系の「住所地」が特定できた。わたしは「住空間」にこだわって生きてきた人間なので、空間認識を特定できると、いわば脳味噌がスッキリとしてくる実感があるのです。空間が特定されると、そこで生きた人間のありようが俄然「カラー化」してくる。
 そして現代の利器・GoogleMapを利用すると、その特定された住所地の「現在の画像情報」が瞬時に得られてくる。それをモニター画面で見ながら、想念を巡らすことができる。
 その周辺にはなんどか足を運んでいるので「土地勘」は実装されている。「あ、ここだったのか」という静かな落着感が心理に充満してくるのですね。
 まぁここまで至るには、明治最初期の戸籍謄本に記載された「番屋敷」住所表示の歴史的変遷という巨大な壁が存在していました。日本の近代化システムが最初、試行錯誤を経験したあと、現代のような整合的記録環境が成立してきたのですね。さらに、現行システムからしか「過去の実相を遡る」ことができない。逆はまことに至難なのですね。大きな進展にワクワク。導いてくれた動線上の「天井」オモシロ(笑)。

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English version⬇

[A “Labyrinth” Appears in the Underground During My Journey of Exploration into the Past (lol)]
The area around Sapporo Station is just too interesting, with the bustling downtown to the south and that “hollow” feeling to the north (lol). This mysterious urban environment served as a guide to unearthing the past (lol)…

 I am currently tracing the “lives” of my ancestors who lived from the Edo period through the Meiji era and beyond, as recorded in my family history.
The more I learn, the more the reality of their lives—filled with dramatic ups and downs as they struggled desperately while being tossed about by the “tides” of their times—begins to emerge. I am continuing this journey through time and space. In this endeavor, verifying changes in real estate ownership at places like the “Legal Affairs Bureau” provides crucial factual evidence. The photo shows the route to the Sapporo Legal Affairs Bureau—a vast “underground space” stretching from the bustling south exit of JR Sapporo Station, where the subway’s Sapporo Station is located, all the way to the Legal Affairs Bureau on the “north exit” side. It’s an intriguing, otherworldly space that has emerged beneath this modern city, architecturally fascinating in its own right.
 It just so happened that the national convention of the “New Housing Association” (Shinjukyo)—an organization I’ve been involved with for a long time in the residential construction sector—was being held in Sapporo during that time, but I was so engrossed in this research that I completely forgot about it. When I suddenly realized it, I thought, “Oh no,” but it was too late. Yesterday, when I asked a staff member from Sapporo Soku-sha—the publisher of *Replan*, whose office shares the floor with mine—how things were going, they reported that someone had asked them, “Oh, has Professor Kamata asked how Mr. Miki is doing? Is he doing well?” “Oh, crap,” I thought, but oh well, it can’t be helped.
 I believe that someone who has transferred their business should keep a low profile to avoid causing a fuss.
 Anyway, thanks to the research activities I mentioned earlier, I was able to pinpoint the “residential addresses” of my family lineage from the late Edo period through the Meiji era. Since I’m someone who has lived my life with a strong focus on “living spaces,” I actually feel a sense of clarity in my mind when I can pinpoint a specific location. Once a space is identified, the lives of the people who lived there suddenly come to life in vivid color.
 And by using the modern tool Google Maps, I can instantly access “current imagery” of those identified addresses. I can let my thoughts wander while viewing them on the monitor screen.
 Since I’ve visited the surrounding area several times, I’ve developed a “sense of the terrain.” A quiet sense of resolution—“Ah, so this is where it was”—fills my mind.
 Well, to get to this point, there was a massive hurdle: the historical evolution of “ban-yashiki” address notation found in family register transcripts from the very early Meiji period. After Japan’s modernization system initially went through a period of trial and error, a coherent record-keeping system like the one we have today was finally established. Furthermore, we can only “trace back to the reality of the past” from the current system; doing the reverse is truly extremely difficult. I’m thrilled by this major breakthrough. The “ceiling” along the path that led me here is quite interesting (lol).

● Announcement
My book, *Writers and Living Spaces*, has been published as an e-book by Gentosha.
Available on Amazon.

 

【いけ花の感覚は空間づくりとつながる。ふむふむ・・・】


 写真は恥ずかしながらわが家の様子。
 先日友人が「いけ花」の展示出展ということで「取材」してきて掲載しましたが、ときどきブログ記事に有益なコメントをいただく方から反響意見も受け取って、気付かされたことがあります。その方は住宅建築の専門家ですが、インテリアコーディネーター制度が日本でできて、その「担い手」として多くの「いけ花」修得者のみなさんが、その制度資格を得て、主として「室内インテリア」について活躍の場を得たのだ、という「流れ」をご指摘いただいた次第。
 空間の「しつらい」を考えて行くとき、素材それぞれの個性を読み、それらの関係性を整えて全体をつくる『構成思索』は、いけ花とインテリアでたしかに類縁的なのだと気付かされた
 自分自身、わが家のさまざまな変遷の末にいま、写真のような「主室」で暮らしていますが、ここでの暮らし方を考えるときに、メインの無垢材テーブルと、さまざまな生活装置での相関関係が常に基本的条件設定としてあることに気付かされる。
 このメインの無垢材テーブルは、北海道産のナラ材ですが、産地で自然乾燥されていた様子を直接見に行って購入したもの。その後、苦労してわが家に搬入してもらって「そのながく生きる場で乾燥」させ続けた後に、知人の大工さんに現場で加工・仕上げしていただいた。
 かなり強烈な「そり・ねじれ」を持った個性的な素材(笑)で、ほんとうにご苦労をお掛けした。しかしそういう素地が、いかにもわたし自身の個性ともオーバーラップして、愛着を感じている。そういう問題児である素性と「折り合いを付けて」生きるしかない(笑)。
 そんな心理と「いけ花」の取り組み方、素材との対話の仕方が近接していると感じる。
 で、インテリア構成としてはその他の必要不可欠な生活用具・家具との「ほどよい」配置関係を無意識ながら構成し続けるのが、人間の生き様なのでしょう。わたしの場合は、この無垢材テーブルとの「会話」が基調トーンを形成して、建築の基本である壁のブロック素地や、天井の幾何的なコンクリート仕様に囲まれて過ごしている。いまは孫がときどき同じ時空間を過ごすので、床にはカーペットを臨時的に敷き込んでいる。そういう「一期一会」的な空間のしつらい。それもまた楽しい。
 ふ〜む、であります。いけ花文化がそこに重なるとは・・・。

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English version⬇

[The art of ikebana is connected to creating spaces. Hmm, I see…]
It makes me realize the connection between “ikebana” and interior design. I completely agree that there’s a similar essence to the way spaces are arranged. …

 I’m a bit embarrassed to share this photo, but it shows what my home looks like.
A few days ago, a friend of mine was exhibiting “ikebana” at a show, so I went to “cover” the event and posted about it. I received some feedback from someone who occasionally leaves helpful comments on my blog posts, and it made me realize something. This person is an expert in residential architecture, and they pointed out a “trend”: after the interior coordinator certification system was established in Japan, many ikebana practitioners—as “pioneers” in this field—obtained that certification and found opportunities to work primarily in the field of “interior design.”
 When considering the “arrangement” of a space—reading the unique characteristics of each material and harmonizing their relationships to create a whole—I realized that the “compositional thinking” involved is indeed closely related in both ikebana and interior design.
 Personally, after various changes in my living situation, I now live in the “main room” shown in the photo. When considering how to live here, I am constantly reminded that the interrelationship between the main solid-wood table and the various household furnishings serves as a fundamental framework.
 This main solid wood table is made of oak from Hokkaido; I went to see firsthand how it had been naturally dried at the source before purchasing it. After that, I went to great lengths to have it delivered to my home, where I continued to let it “dry in its long-term living environment.” Finally, a carpenter I know came to my home to cut and finish it on-site.
 It’s a unique piece of wood with quite intense “warping and twisting” (laughs), and it really put him through the wringer. However, that very character overlaps so much with my own personality that I’ve grown quite attached to it. I have no choice but to “come to terms” with this troublesome nature and live with it (laughs).
 I feel that this mindset is closely related to the approach to “ikebana” and the way one engages in dialogue with materials.
 And when it comes to interior design, I suppose it’s simply the human way of life to unconsciously continue arranging things in a “balanced” relationship with other essential household items and furniture. In my case, the “conversation” with this solid wood table sets the underlying tone, and I spend my days surrounded by the exposed brick walls—a fundamental element of architecture—and the geometric concrete finish of the ceiling. Now that my grandchild occasionally spends time with me in this same space, I’ve temporarily laid down a carpet on the floor. It’s a way of arranging the space with a “once-in-a-lifetime” sensibility. That, too, is enjoyable.
 Hmm, indeed. To think that the culture of ikebana overlaps with that…

● Announcement
My book, *The Artist and Living Space*, has been published as an e-book by Gentosha.
Available on Amazon.

【北海道神宮のこども写生大会の受賞作に見入る】



 先日は友人の「いけ花」を参観してきましたが、本日は絵画であります。
 昨日は久しぶりの散歩コースで北海道神宮参拝のコースへ。北海道神宮はその創始からまだ150年ほどで明治国家の北海道開拓の神域として造成された地域。隣接する「円山公園」はアメリカから開拓期に教師役として採用されていた「御雇い外国人」たちが都市計画でも主導して、原始に近い自然をそのままに保持する考えで公園が維持されている。北大構内も原始の札幌の「土地の雰囲気・空気感」を保持していますが、神宮の神域も、自然な調和を見せてくれている。
 で、参拝したあと、神殿の左側に子どもたちの絵が飾られている光景が目に飛び込んできた。
 みると「第56回 北海道神宮写生大会作品展」と題されていた。そこでいちばん最初に煌々と展示されていたのが、この作品。雨除けにビニールが上履きされているので、若干見栄えは残念感があったけれど、この「特選」とみなせる作品は、拝殿の様子を描いた作品。
 堂々たる重量感がみるものに訴えかけてくるあっぱれな絵。「神社」という建築へのある種のリスペクトが画筆に感じられ、小学4年生の少年の率直な受け止めが見る者に、ストンと落ちてきていた。
 なんといっても屋根の重量感が圧倒的に少年のこころを捉え、その心情がストレートに伝わってくる。
 う〜む、たしかに力感があって素晴らしいね、であります。
 ・・・遠い日、いまから67年前、小学校2年生だったわたしは、札幌とアメリカ・ポートランド市の姉妹都市提携を記念しての「児童画交換のためのコンクール」に、担任の美術が専門の先生から情報を受けて、一生懸命に「相撲の立会い」の絵を一心不乱に描いていた。テレビがわが家にやってきて、NHKの相撲中継に見入っていて、その立会いの一瞬の「呼吸感」が描きたかったのです。
 人間の念の入ったあの瞬間の力感を、なんとか描きたいと思っていた。それとテーマ性としてアメリカの子どもたちに相撲という日本らしい「体文化」が最適と考えていた。
 そして選ばれて、その絵は彼の地に送られた。
 この神社の絵を見ていて、そういう記憶がフラッシュバックしていた。
 どうも同じような「重量感」を表現したかったのではないかと。まぁ、勝手な個人としての感想。

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English version⬇

[Gazing at the Award-Winning Entries from the Hokkaido Jingu Children’s Sketching Contest]
I’m transported back to when I entered a contest myself as a boy—67 long years ago. I find solace in the solid, weighty quality that defines the theme. …

 The other day, I went to see a friend’s “ikebana” exhibition, but today’s topic is painting.
Yesterday, I took a walk along a route I hadn’t taken in a while—the path leading to Hokkaido Jingu Shrine. Hokkaido Jingu was established only about 150 years ago and was developed as a sacred site for the Meiji government’s colonization of Hokkaido. The adjacent “Maruyama Park” was maintained under the guidance of “foreign consultants” hired from the United States during the settlement period to serve as teachers; they also played a leading role in urban planning, and the park is preserved with the philosophy of maintaining its near-pristine natural state. While the Hokkaido University campus also retains the “atmosphere and spirit” of early Sapporo, the sacred precincts of the shrine also exhibit a natural harmony.
 After paying my respects, my eyes were immediately drawn to a display of children’s drawings on the left side of the main hall.
Upon closer inspection, I saw it was titled “The 56th Hokkaido Jingu Sketching Contest Exhibition.” The very first piece on display, shining brightly, was this work. Although the plastic sheeting used to protect it from the rain slightly detracted from its appearance, this piece—which could be considered a “Special Selection”—depicted the worship hall.
 It’s a magnificent painting whose imposing, weighty presence speaks directly to the viewer. You can sense a certain respect for the architecture of the “shrine” in the brushstrokes, and the fourth-grader’s candid perspective really resonated with me.
Above all, the sheer weight of the roof overwhelmingly captured the boy’s imagination, and his emotions come across directly.
Hmm, it certainly has a powerful presence—it’s truly wonderful.
 …Long ago, 67 years ago now, when I was in second grade, I received information from my homeroom teacher—who specialized in art—about a “Children’s Art Exchange Contest” held to commemorate the sister-city partnership between Sapporo and Portland, Oregon. I worked tirelessly, single-mindedly drawing a picture of a “sumo face-off.” A television had just arrived at our home, and I was captivated by NHK’s sumo broadcasts; I wanted to capture the “sense of rhythm” in that split second of the initial clash.
 I was determined to somehow depict the power of that moment, infused with human intensity. I also thought sumo—a quintessentially Japanese “physical culture”—would be the perfect theme to introduce to American children.
 My painting was selected and sent overseas.
 Looking at this painting of the shrine, those memories came flooding back.
It seems I must have wanted to express a similar “sense of weight.” Well, that’s just my own personal impression.

● Announcement
My book, *Writers and Living Spaces*, has been published as an e-book by Gentosha.
Available on Amazon.