“The beauty of silence,” “silence is golden,” and “if it is hidden, it is the flower,” are expressions that reflect a long-standing concept in Japanese culture: the virtue of discretion and not speaking unless spoken to. Although not all Japanese may adhere to this mindset today, this notion is often not understood outside of Japan. In the Western context where self-expression is cherished, appreciating silence could come off as a rather esoteric idea. Yet, when we delve deeper into Japanese tradition, we come to appreciate the beauty that can indeed reside in silence.
Kurochaya in Akiruno is a place that is overflowing with the beauty of silence. The ingredients of the food served, the materials used for the building and garden, the way natural light enters the space, and the positioning of the lighting are all thoroughly curated. There is an air of sincerity in the attention to aesthetics that could only be achieved with dedication. Yet, there is little explanation provided. When Kenji is asked about the understated beauty, he humbly replies that he is just a countryman. But his words are full of aesthetic sensibility. “I was born and raised outdoors, so it is natural for me to want to coexist with nature. Throughout my work at Totoan, Ichukyo (now closed), and overseas establishments, what has remained consistent is my desire to create buildings that will decay naturally. Many modern buildings are constructed to resist nature, using materials that don’t rot or withstand rain, and when they collapse, they leave behind non-biodegradable waste. I choose only materials that will not become the earth’s trash when they decay.”
Wabi-Sabi: The Beauty of Tranquility and Impermanence
The aesthetics of “wabi-sabi,” widely known even overseas, value the beauty of things that decay and change over time. Wabi-sabi is a philosophy that respects the beauty found in the imperfect and ephemeral, expressing an acceptance of aging and natural changes. Although Kenji never explicitly stated it to the end, what he pursues is wabi-sabi. “Moss grows on the roof, microorganisms flourish, and various living organisms coexist there. As a result, when it rains, the wood begins to rot. As in Kyoto, the beauty of decaying things brings peace to the human eye. I want to pursue the aesthetics of decay and aged beauty, so I make efforts to preserve nature while making minimal interventions.”
Pointing to a giant tree visible from the tatami room in Kurochaya, he said, “I brought that tree and all the other trees you see here from the mountains and planted them myself. People now say that the place is surrounded by nature, but after 60 years, the trees have grown so thick that they appear natural. If you hire an ordinary gardener, they tend to over-cultivate things, making things less interesting. I wanted to create a garden that would integrate with the river on the other side of Kurochaya. As an amateur with a certain aesthetic sense but no real foundation, I put together what was available, so there were many failed attempts. Sometimes I think afterward, ‘I should have done it this way,’ but there’s also a unique charm in those failures.”
Evade Flashiness: Too Cool Is Uncool
Kenji’s gardens and architectural designs have garnered widespread acclaim from experts in the field. A world-renowned Japanese architect once drew a fascinating comparison, likening Kenji to the legendary Kitaoji Rosanjin.
Rosanjin (1883-1959) is known for his extraordinary talent and free-spirited life. He was a world-renowned cultural figure as a gourmand, cook, and potter, and is known to have scorned Picasso. Rosanjin was an autodidact, who learned most of his skills independently, incorporating techniques developed from his unique perspective, without following any particular masters.
Kenji also mastered gardening, flower arrangement, and tea ceremony with a unique sensibility. He speaks of creating beauty by setting constraints to approach the beauty found in nature. “As an amateur who knows nothing, one has no choice but to learn from nature. Restoring a kominka is like turning an old building into what it was before. However, simply restoring it isn’t enough to create a meaningful old private residence, so we need to add a new perspective. For example, when we built Ichukyo, we lowered the height of the window frames to match the scenery outside. There are also many constraints in the tea ceremony room, and these constraints are very important.”
He continued, “If I am asked to build something in a place where there are no constraints, for example, ‘Build something in the desert,’ I will start with imposing a constraint. I may create a window frame at the spot in the desert where the sunset is most beautiful, using it as a picture frame to express a living painting. I love design and architecture so much that I’m often tempted to make adjustments, but if I try too hard to be clever, it leaves an unnatural impression. The ultimate beauty is born from paring things down and creating space.”
In the Guise of Wind: Ultimate Luxury Lies in the Everyday
Fushi, the luxury inn that was just opened and is limited to one group per night, is the culmination of Kenji’s hospitality and aesthetic sense. Fushi is named after Zeami’s (1363-1443) Fushikaden written 600 years ago. Zeami, who developed the Noh theater that continues to the present day, wrote about the art of performance in terms of gestures and mannerisms. Fushi’s philosophy is to offer unique and unparalleled hospitality knowing that “the desires of people are drawn out according to the times, and follows the sensibility of the Noh master, who said, “the flower is that which is rare in the heart of the beholder.” To allow guests to spend private moments with their loved ones, the staff perfects the art of discreet service. However, when called, they appear swiftly like ninjas. They sharpen their senses and design even the subtlest aspects of ambiance.
“Since we only accept one group per night, we can offer a truly bespoke hospitality experience,” he says. “From the moment we receive a reservation, we begin to imagine everything – where they’re coming from, whether they’re a couple, a family, or a group of friends. We might show them Noh, or provide them with an experience that will stay in their memories forever, on that day, in that moment.”
When asked why Kenji serves cuisine using ingredients from the mountains rather than kaiseki or kappo cuisine, he replied, “We are particular about using the bounty of nature from the local area. Lobsters and tuna don’t fit in this place. From a foreigner’s point of view, Japan is an island nation, so we sometimes serve a little seafood to foreign guests. But Japanese people don’t want to eat such things after coming all the way here. So what we do is serve local seasonal wild vegetables, like bracken and royal fern, which are precious.”
Fushi is about the ultimate luxury without the obvious luxury. Kenji’s Zen-like words test the chef of Fushi, who is also the head chef of Kurochaya. “We don’t use high-end ingredients like caviar or lobster. In pursuing what makes people happy, we find that true luxury exists in the everyday. Impressions derived from small things tend to be much more memorable than those from exaggerated performances or extravagant items. So we serve natural water freshly drawn from the mountains, grill steaks on stones brought from the river, and quickly prepare freshly caught fish, just-picked bamboo shoots, and wild vegetables right before your eyes.”
The Monk’s Words: Be the Eternal Flame
Kenji still cherishes the words spoken to him by a Buddhist monk when he was young: “Dig the soil under your feet.” It meant to embrace what you have in your hometown, add value to it, and give it form.
“After graduating from high school, our family’s long-standing silk manufacturing business went bankrupt. My mother, brother, and I started various businesses, but they didn’t work out. At 28, I felt my life was in complete darkness. I went to a mountain temple near my home for zazen meditation, where a monk told me, ‘Don’t seek what you don’t have; count what you do have. And become like a firefly. Fireflies are small, but when they gather in large numbers, they become bright. Shine in your hometown.’ At that moment, fireflies were flying around, shining brightly. So, I don’t think about grand things, but instead focus on what’s already here, creating things that shine, even if they’re modest.”
Kenji’s mission is to pass on the goodness and importance of Japanese culture to the next generation. “I created Totoan and Ichukyo as places to transmit Japanese culture. Totoan is named after a word that signifies culture being passed on over generations endlessly. Ichukyo means ‘a frog in a well peeping at stars.’ While a frog in a well doesn’t know the great ocean, it knows the depth of the small sky it can see and the beauty of the shining stars. Many people say you should look more at the world because you can only see a few stars when looking up from inside a well. However, I’m saying the opposite: let’s go into the well and look at the stars – let’s take another look at Japanese culture. This is the message I wish to leave for the future.”
Kenji Takamizu, CEO, Kurochaya and Fushi
Kenji is the founder of Kurochaya, a beloved restaurant in Tama that has been around for over half a century. It specializes in authentic cuisine using fresh ingredients from the mountains. He also manages Totoan, a dining and gallery space created from a renovated warehouse of an old family home in the same area. His mission is to repurpose and preserve historical buildings in the community for future generations. As the culmination of these endeavors, he opened Fushi, an exclusive inn that hosts only one group per day in March 2024. Fushi is designed to offer guests an immersive experience of the area’s nature, climate, culture, and cuisine.
About Akiruno
Akiruno is located in the western part of Tokyo. The eastern part of Akiruno is a plain surrounded by gentle hills, while the western part features mountainous areas that are part of Okutama. The area once thrived on forestry and silk spinning, and the remnants of those days are shown in the old kominka that are still in existence, a testament to the history and culture of those times. The rich natural environment, exemplified by the Akikawa Valley, attracts enthusiasts of fishing, camping, hiking, and trail running. It is known as a place where the convenience of urban life can be combined with the pleasures of rural living.
Photography Seiji Kondo