As I lift a bowl of frothy matcha during a Japanese tea ceremony in the lounge of the Rakudo-An hotel in Tonami, Toyama Prefecture, I hear a staff member whisper something to the guests behind me, followed by a soft murmur of surprise. I turn around to my mother to check that I’ve not just made an embarrassing faux pas, but she nods encouragingly, albeit with a vaguely nervous smile. It’s only when I finish sipping and lay down the bowl that she leans in and says, in an amused tone, “You just drank from a 300-year-old priceless antique. Thank god you didn’t drop it.”
The chawan bowl, a pristine example of Korean Joseon dynasty pottery — the historically prized ceramic of choice for Japanese tea ceremonies — is one of dozens of museum-worthy antiques and artworks housed in Rakudo-An, a newly opened boutique hotel in the heart of Toyama’s agricultural Tonami Plain. A 15-minute walk from the nearest station and surrounded by nothing but rice fields and a scattering of distant farmhouses, it’s an unusual location for an art hotel. There are no galleries, parks, cafes or shops — just arable land, irrigation waterways and the sounds of nature.
“When I moved back to Toyama after living for years in Tokyo, I really thought that there would be nothing here to make me stay,” says Sari Hayashiguchi, producer of the Mizu to Takumi Toyama West Tourism Promotion Association, which manages Rakudo-An. “But I was surprised to find so much going on. Toyama has a lot to offer — not just agriculture, but history, culture and craft.”
The remote location of Rakudo-An is intentional. A 120-year-old farmhouse renovated into three guest rooms, a restaurant and shop, the hotel offers tourists the experience of staying in Tonami Plain, one of Japan’s largest by area dispersed farming settlements known as sankyoson. Earlier in the day, Hayashiguchi had taken us to a hilltop observation post to view the region’s unique layout: a vast patchwork of fields dotted with the gabled roofs of traditional Japanese azumadachi (east-facing) farmhouses and their private woodlands. We also stopped by a fully restored house, part of the Tonami Sankyoson Museum, to wander through its earthen floor entrance, sunken hearth sitting room and large tatami-mat living quarters.
Often spanning hundreds of square meters of land, Toyama’s azumadachi seem grand in scale. When farmsteads thrived during the Edo Period (1603-1868), they were not just dwellings but also community spaces where families welcomed friends, guests and local priests for meetings and gatherings. Today, as individual farms decline with depopulation, a few of the structures in the Tonami Plain have been transformed into restaurants or other small businesses. Most, however, remain family residences, handed down for generations. Many are also abandoned and in disrepair.
For Mizu to Takumi, which was established by a network of six Toyama city governments and around 80 local businesses and organizations, azumadachi conservation is a part of its agenda of regenerative tourism. Its Rakudo-An renovation showcases the architectural style’s bright, white plaster gables latticed with dark wood. Inside, a framework of thick horizontal wooden beams supports unusually high ceilings. Built without the use of any metal nails or fixtures, it’s a perfectly restored example of a complex traditional structure called wakunouchi.
Rakudo-An also sets aside a portion of its accommodation fees for sankyoson preservation activities. The hotel is filled with mid-century modern furniture, antiques and artworks that support local craftspeople or reflect Japan’s agrarian and cultural roots — even the rooms’ wallpaper, flooring and fittings are made in Toyama. Il Clima, the hotel’s restaurant, features seasonal dishes using local farm produce, all served on vintage and handcrafted tableware. Even the toiletries are made with locally blended essential oils.
“We wanted Rakudo-An to be a place where guests can enjoy examples of all the virtues of Toyama, like a hub of information,” says Hayashiguchi.
As my mother and I admire some of Rakudo-An’s prized artworks — a katazome dyed byobu screen by Keisuke Serizawa (1895-1984), rustic pottery pieces by Shoji Hamada (1894-1978) and woodblock prints by Shiko Munakata (1903-75), all artists designated as living national treasures — it becomes clear that Toyama has strong connections to Japan’s mingei folk art movement.
A trip the following day to Kotokuji Temple in Nanto, a 20-minute drive from Tonami, sheds more light on these connections, which we learn led to many acclaimed mingei artists’ works becoming part of museum collections in Toyama Prefecture.
Outside Kotokuji, an array of enormous pottery jars dot the precincts, “just for decoration,” says the ground’s attendant. Inside, the main hall gleams, its shrine and interiors covered in shimmering gold leaf. Though it seems expansive and elaborate, we are told that the temple is not especially large for Toyama, a prefecture with deep ties to Pure Land Buddhism. It does, however, have the most unusual and extensive display of mingei.
According to Hayashiguchi, Kotokuji’s 18th head priest, Kansho Kosaka (1905-92), was an avid reader of art books and magazines, including Shirakaba, an early 20th-century literary publication that featured articles by Soetsu Yanagi, the founder of the mingei movement. Inspired by Yanagi’s belief that the natural and serendipitous quality of mingei aesthetics had affinities with the “pure love” of Pure Land Buddhism, Kosaka began collecting folk art during his world travels. His interest in mingei led to a friendship with Hamada, who took him to the Mingeikan museum in Tokyo. There, Kosaka met the ceramicist Kanjiro Kawai, who introduced him to Munakata, and the priest and artist became friends.
Munakata became such a regular visitor to Kotokuji that when he evacuated Tokyo during World War II, Kosaka invited him to stay in Toyama.
“He ended up living here six years and eight months,” says Hayashiguchi. “He stayed in sankyoson and built his own house in Fukumitsu (a town just north of Nanto).”
Kotokuji is home to a small gallery space showcasing rare Munakata works, including “Kegonmatsu,” a dynamic sumi-e depiction of pine branches that stretches across six fusuma (sliding screens). A spontaneous piece inspired by a walk in the countryside, it was painted using a makeshift brush of several smaller ones tied together. The buckets of ink needed to create such a large masterpiece, we are told, were mixed by Munataka’s wife, with the help of some friendly neighbors.
Elsewhere in Kotokuji, we find tatami mat rooms displaying folk art collected by Kosaka and the two generations of head priests who succeeded him. Japanese ceramics line antique wooden shelves, and African masks and Asian textiles hang on the walls while tribal rugs protect the tatami mats from wicker chairs and polished tree trunk stools. It’s eclectic but cozy, with hundreds of the antique and vintage items — glassware, stoneware, carpentry and textiles — hailing from all over the globe.
“Mingei is not just Japanese,” Hayashiguchi says, reminding us that other cultures heavily inspired Japanese folk art pioneers.
To get a glimpse of contemporary mingei, Hayashiguchi takes us to the other side of Nanto to meet ceramicist Kim Kyungduk, whose minimalist, natural colored works blend local clays with traditional Korean wheel-throwing techniques. A resident of Toyama for more than 20 years, Kim welcomes us like old friends and guides us straight into his studio where he skillfully throws an enormous vase in minutes and invites us to try our own hand at the wheel. Afterward, he leads us next door, where his pottery and tableware fill an entire room, before ushering us into a simple tatami mat lounge to meet his wife, drink tea and chat.
When someone points to a strand of ivy that has tenaciously worked its way indoors through a tiny gap between a window frame and wall and snaked across a sideboard, Kim’s wife smiles, explaining that they like it like that.
“When we first found this house, it was in terrible condition, and everyone thought it was too damaged to live in,” Kim says, laughing. “But I just couldn’t stop thinking about it, so a year later we came back and bought it anyway.”
He talks enthusiastically about his experience moving to Toyama, mentioning the friendliness of neighbors who gave him tools to help him renovate his home and the unexpected enjoyment of rebuilding the house using salvaged parts. He originally moved to Toyama with his family because it was his wife’s hometown, he explains, but an almost inexplicable elevated sense of well-being, happiness and creativity has kept them there.
Earlier, Hayashiguchi had told us that there is a term that Toyama locals often use: “dotoku,” which literally translates to “virtues of the earth.” Believed to have been coined by Yanagi, it’s used when describing an appreciation of the quality of life gained from a close relationship with nature. Before, I didn’t fully understand what this meant. But as we leave Kim’s home, my mother turns to me and says, “I think ... this is dotoku.”
Tonami Sankyoson Museum and Kotokuji Temple are open to the public. To visit Kim Kyungduk’s studio, contact the Mizu to Takumi Toyama West Tourism Promotion Association.
Lunch in Tonami Plain
There are several restaurants inside azumadachi farmhouses within Toyama’s dispersed village of Tonami Plain. Each offers dishes made with fresh local produce and the opportunity to see traditional Japanese architecture up close.
Le Cafe de Maison Yuinote Histoire
Run by Hirohata and Shito Akita, who originally moved to Toyama to farm pesticide- and chemical-free rice, Le Cafe de Maison Yuinote Histoire is a cozy restaurant offering hearty, original home cooking within the front section of the couple’s home.
Meals are served at small tables or in a raised tatami area in the entrance section of the house. Local vegetables and wild edible plants feature in all dishes, which change with the season and are served on an array of colorful vintage plates. Each meal includes a generous serving of Akita’s homegrown rice, individually cooked at the table in hagama pots.
Farmer’s Restaurant Ookado
Farmer’s Restaurant Ookado allows customers to enjoy local shōjin ryōri (Buddhist vegetarian cuisine) right in front of an azumadachi’s butsudan altar. Toyama butsudan are renowned for being large and ornate, making Ookado’s a striking centerpiece.
The seasonal menu features Ookado’s handmade somen noodles and regional variations of Buddhist cooking, which friendly staff are more than happy to explain to diners. It’s all served on 100-year-old red lacquerware.
Rakudo-An: Il Clima
Yudai Ito, the executive chef of Il Clima, trained in France and Italy and brings a little European flair to his elegant fare. As the restaurant of the luxury boutique hotel Rakudo-An, diners can expect high-end dishes beautifully presented on a mix of vintage and locally made tableware.
The menu changes daily at Il Clima, with Ito creatively finding new and unusual ways to serve local vegetables, seafood from Toyama bay, garden-grown herbs and foraged ingredients. It’s impossible to predict what guests will be served, but considering Ito’s background, it’s sure to be interesting.
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