Nothing gets in the way or even near Aomori Prefecture's summer festivals, the grandest among them parades of immense illuminated floats depicting ancient warriors, accompanied by troops of live dancers and musicians.
Nothing gets in the way or even near Aomori Prefecture's summer festivals, the grandest among them parades of immense illuminated floats depicting ancient warriors, accompanied by troops of live dancers and musicians.
Depending on where you are in the prefecture, these floats are called "nebuta" or "neputa." Aomori city's Nebuta Matsuri festival is the largest and most raucous of the events, so much so that actually getting near the floats can be a challenge.
A better idea is to head to the more genteel city of Hirosaki and its smaller, more approachable Neputa Matsuri.
If you really want to get up close and personal with a nebuta while there, duck into the narrow Hirosaki Chuo Shokuhin Ichiba marketplace and ask the fishmonger and green grocer to show you theirs.
"Making nebuta is serious business around here," says Tomoyoshi Kudo, 57, the fish seller. "There are guildmasters and apprentices and a system to decide who is going to do what. But there's no rule saying that we can't make them too."
Together with Mamoru Nakata, 55, the vegetable dealer in the stall across from his own, Kudo has been making nebuta since 2005, slowly filling the market with their creations even as other vendors have vacated for lack of customers. The self-taught pair work with bamboo and wire frames, paper and paintbrushes, inspired by -- but not exactly copying -- the city's best known floats, which are gathered in the Neputa Village museum in a corner of the Hirosaki Castle grounds.
"It's one way to keep our hands busy and bring people into the market. They like to check in and see how far we've gotten," says Nakata. The pair share a former butcher's stall as their studio but work separately from each other, taking months to complete a single nebuta.
Full-size nebuta floats can tower as high as 8 meters -- making them impossible to move, because of low power lines. Those in the market, measuring about 2 meters high, fit snugly into several stalls and add brightness to an otherwise half-lit, well-worn market. Opened 40 years ago, the market is a rare holdover even in provincial Hirosaki, where big-box stores and supermarkets on the outskirts have pulled business out of the city center.
"Most nebuta depict warriors, but I've never been much interested in those," says Kudo, who traces his inspiration to his childhood, when he saw a small nebuta in a glass case at the barber's. "I prefer to make ones that symbolize fortune, such as the Seven Lucky Gods and maneki neko cats. They're more cheery, and they sell."
He made his first nebuta, a depiction of Ebisu, for his mother's food stall, also in the market. When word of the small nebuta got out, locals started visiting the market, among them professional nebuta makers ready with advice and restaurant owners looking to buy the works as decorations. Big-city visitors have also come, seeking genuine examples of naive folk craft to take home.
"I always tell them to name their price and be prepared to wait," says Kudo, searching for the switch to illuminate his colorful works. "I can't say which of these works mean the most to me. It started as a way to pass the time, but I've put so much time and feeling into them that I feel they have their own spirits now."
With that he flicked off the light and returned to his stall.