It’s Okay to Step on the Tatami Edges

I’m Fumiya Otsubo, Deputy Editor-in-Chief of Hokuroku.

The interview took place around the end of 2019. I’ve visited Higashi Chaya District many times before, but this was my first time at night.

Unlike the bustling daytime atmosphere, most shops were closed. The only people I saw were two or three foreign tourists holding cameras.

I felt like I might get lost, but I eventually found the teahouse I was looking for at the end of an alley.

Fujinoya, the newest teahouse in the Higashi Chaya District, was the location for this interview. It was also featured in the first article of this series.

There is a bar called Suiren on the first floor, and the teahouse is on the second floor.

I don’t usually go to teahouses—or even bars, for that matter—so my nightlife experience is limited. The entrance door looked as intimidating as a bank vault to me.

Nervously, I pushed it open, and the proprietress, Ms. Yaeko Yoshikawa, greeted me with a warm smile.

— “Good evening. I’m Otsubo from Hokuroku.”

Yoshikawa: “Welcome. Mr. Otsubo, right? I’ve heard about you. Y-san is on his way but is slightly delayed due to traffic. Please go ahead and take a seat in the tatami room.”

Teahouses are a world of exclusivity, where first-time visitors are prohibited unless they have an introduction. This time, I was able to join a gathering at the teahouse thanks to the connections of our editorial team, through Y-san, a business owner in Kanazawa, and his friend, K-san.

Upon entering the bar on the first floor, I took off my shoes at the base of the stairs.

As expected in a historic wooden building, the staircase was quite steep. At the top, there was a small 3-tatami-mat-sized anteroom with a very low ceiling—I had to be careful not to hit my head.

I placed my belongings in the anteroom and slid open the fusuma doors. Inside was a 12-tatami-mat room, with neatly arranged tables and chairs. The tables were set with hand towels, chopsticks, glasses, and coasters.

As I stood frozen in place, unsure of how to proceed, Ms. Yoshikawa spoke to me.

Yoshikawa: “Please take a seat and make yourself comfortable while waiting for Y-san.”

— “Um… We’re not supposed to step on the tatami edges, right? I remember learning that in middle school judo class.”

Yoshikawa: “You’re a guest, so don’t worry about it. Please relax and enjoy yourself.”

With that, Ms. Yoshikawa left the room. Now, only the photographer, our editor-in-chief (who arrived a little late), and I remained.

Even though we were told to “relax,” none of us could settle down. We spoke in hushed tones, though no one was listening in.

A Place to Enjoy Conversations and Performances with Geisha

After about ten minutes, Y-san and K-san arrived.

Y: “Sorry for being late! Thank you for having us today!”

K: “Nice to meet you. My name is K, and I run a company in Kanazawa. I look forward to our time together.”

From their clear, confident greetings, I could immediately tell they were business leaders.

Y-san had just returned from an overseas business trip the day before. He was a professional who traveled the world, full of energy and enthusiasm.

K-san, on the other hand, was the president of a Kanazawa-based company that sold daily life equipment. He had a calm, composed demeanor, often observing Y-san from a step behind.

As we sat down and began discussing the purpose of our interview, Ms. Yoshikawa reentered the room, accompanied by two geisha. They bowed politely before stepping inside.

To the left was K-san, then geisha Touko-san, and Y-san

The geisha accompanying us were Kochiyo-san, who was affiliated with Fujinoya, and Touko-san, who belonged to another teahouse called Nakamura.

Curious as to why a geisha from a different teahouse was here, I asked about it.

I learned that Kanazawa’s teahouses are not only places to enjoy conversations and performances with geisha but also serve as their professional bases, where they act as producers for the entertainment of the evening.

However, geisha are not employees of the teahouses—they are independent contractors who sign exclusive agreements with specific establishments.

Teahouses generally invite their affiliated geisha to entertain guests, but this is not a strict rule.

If a customer requests a specific geisha, or if a geisha is unavailable due to a scheduling conflict or illness, another teahouse’s geisha may be called in.

Kochiyo-san

That explained why Touko-san, from Nakamura, was here at Fujinoya.

As we chatted, drinks were poured, and after a toast, a lively conversation began, lasting about thirty minutes.

Topics ranged from the interview itself to updates about teahouses and Kanazawa in general.

Different Rhythms in Kanazawa’s Three Teahouse Districts

As expected, the geisha were exceptionally skilled in conversation.

Whenever a topic arose that I was unfamiliar with as a non-local, they subtly adjusted their explanations, almost like translators, making it easier for me to follow along. At this point, I finally started to relax.

Once we were comfortable, the setup of the room changed, signaling the start of the geisha performances.

The first act was a flute performance by Touko-san. The room’s lights were dimmed, and in the quiet atmosphere, she sat up straight and prepared her flute.

Touko: “I will now play a piece on the flute. The title is Bamboo Grove.”

The flute’s melody was just as the name suggested—it carried the sound of wind passing through a bamboo forest, with a dynamic yet gentle rhythm. After the four-minute performance, we chatted briefly before the next act, a seasonal dance.

This time, Touko-san danced while Kochiyo-san played the shamisen and sang a long ballad. The piece was called First Snow.

Following this, the ozashiki daiko (parlor drums) performance began, featuring five pieces: Bamboo and Sparrow, Fourth Street, Eighth Street, Seri, and Mushiokuri Daiko.

Unlike the flute and dance, these drum performances had a lively, energetic rhythm that shifted the room’s atmosphere entirely.

Ozashiki daiko (parlor drums)

I learned that, even with the same songs, the drumming rhythms differ slightly between Kanazawa’s three teahouse districts: Higashi, Nishi, and Kazuemachi. There are no written scores—it’s all passed down through experience.

A typical evening at a teahouse consists of conversation, followed by performances of dance, flute, long ballads, and ozashiki daiko.

At the end of the evening, guests have the opportunity to experience ozashiki daiko (parlor drums) under the guidance of the geisha.

On this night as well, Y-san called out, “Shall we play Taiko no Tatsujin now?”—a playful invitation to the drumming session.

Y: “Since you came from Toyama, Otsubo-san, you should give it a try!”

By this point, I had already downed five beers and an entire bottle of sake. I was feeling far more relaxed than one might expect during an interview.

With a cheerful “Alright, let’s do this!”, I took my seat in front of the drum, receiving instructions from Touko-san.

Just an hour ago, I had been stiff with nerves, but before I knew it, my expression had loosened into a carefree grin.

(Editor-in-Chief’s Comment: This teahouse report, which was supposed to be a fun and lively piece, turned out rather stiff due to the author’s nerves.

However, if you watch the teahouse entertainment video featured in Vol. 3, you’ll probably be surprised—”Was the atmosphere really this lively?” Even if just through the screen, I hope you get a feel for the experience.)